#giffing content from almost two years ago

[byuneuijoo]

SAN: HALAZIA FANCAM 230112

[kingkaisen]

“WELL, WE SHOULD PROBABLY FUCK, RIGHT?”

♡ — SUMMARY; you & gojo are both sealed away in the prison realm. with nothing else to do, you might as well start fucking, right?

♡ — CONTENT; 18+ ONLY // MDNI — fem! reader, unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (fem receiving), missionary, degrading nickname, best friends to friends with benefits, bickering, slightly jealous gojo, you & gojo are both the strongest sorcerers in the world.

♡ — A/N; based on this drabble (: I love this man sm, I’d do his taxes for him btw // also, pls don’t repost my gif!

♡ — WC; 3k

“This is all your fault, Satoru.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Okay, so I was distracted,” Gojo kicked up his feet, placing his black boots across a pile of dusty skeleton heads as if he was at home, relaxing on his plush couch, and not trapped inside of the prison realm. “If I remember correctly – and I do remember correctly because it happened thirty seconds ago – you were distracted too. Who knew that seeing your dead classmate would throw you off?”

“Throw me off?” You frowned, moving around a pile of bones to sit down somewhat comfortably. “You nearly passed out. I saw it with my own eyes, Satoru.”

“Oh,” Giving a small chuckle, Gojo tilted his head a bit as he smirked. “So you could see that, but you couldn’t see the weird guy with the two short ponytails almost obliterate you?”

“I don’t remember that. Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“See this?” Gojo lifted a skull pressing against his right leg, and he dangled it in front of you. “This would’ve been you if it wasn’t for me.”

“You dumbass,” you paused, rolling your eyes, “because of you, we’re both gonna end up exactly like that skeleton. You do realize we’re trapped in here, right? No way out?”

“Calm down. Someone will save us. I have faith, don’t you?”

“Hell no,” a small sigh fell from between your lips, “and you know what? I hope we don’t get saved. The fact that we let ourselves get captured like this is embarrassing. I absolutely cannot leave this stupid box and look another sorcerer in the eye after this. I’d rather die.”

“You’re pretty dramatic,” Gojo sighed. “I hear you, though. We really screwed this up. We should’ve picked different careers. I could’ve been a really nice basketball coach.”

“I would’ve been a coffee shop owner.” Distracted by your own what-if daydreams, you mistakenly leaned back on a pile of skeletons, nearly jumping out of your skin once you remembered that you were indeed lying on a pile of skeletons. “Shit! I gotta get outta here, I can’t do this.”

“Just calm down, it isn’t so bad.” As Gojo adjusted himself, he grunted. “Remember when you dressed up as a skeleton for Halloween? You manifested this.”

“I should’ve never taught you that word,” frowning, you stood up, glancing around the dark inner workings of the prison realm. “How can you relax in a place like this? Aren’t you uncomfortable? Or at least a little bit scared?”

“Hmm, no.” Gojo grinned.

“I shouldn’t have asked. You’re too stupid to know when to be scared.”

“Ouch,” Gojo said dramatically, a hint of amusement coating his words. “Ya know, I’m glad you’re not a coffee shop owner. You’d probably toss random shit in someone’s coffee, sweetheart.”

“Oh my god, please shut up.”

“You shut up,” Gojo retorted childishly.

Deep breathing exercises had certainly come in handy during moments such as this one.

Although years upon years had passed since you and Gojo were kids, running around in Halloween costumes and splitting popsicles, it felt as if no time had passed at all whenever you two held a conversation.

Even so, how exactly did it come to this?

Gojo never truly had an ordinary childhood — you were the only normal thing in his life at the time — but you grew up rather unextraordinary.

A normal girl, one who went to school and did her classwork before sneaking off to a secluded lake in the late afternoons with Gojo, skipping rocks and eating sandwiches together.

It was a beautifully plain life. One that was ripped away from you by curses and sorcery.

The only silver lining that truly existed was your old classmates; the dear friends you made once you attended Jujutsu High all those years ago, and in particular, a dark-haired, mellow guy.

“Must’ve been really hard for you,” Gojo suddenly mumbled, “seeing Suguru again. You two had gotten pretty close, right? Up until he . . . left?”

“What’s up with the mumbling? Now isn’t the time for you to get jealous.”

“I’m not,” Gojo mumbled once again, turning his head away from you. “It’s not like that was the real Suguru anyway. Our Suguru is gone for good.”

“Yeah.” The sad tone of your voice is what grabbed Gojo’s attention. One thing that was stronger than his jealousy over you and Geto’s old fondness for one another was his deep concern for you.

“Hey, c’mere,” Gojo smiled softly, facing you once again.

“Huh?” You raised your eyebrows.

“I said come here.”

Hesitantly, you walked over to where Gojo was stretched out among the bones, sitting down on the ground beside him as best as you could with all the skeletons around. As you looked at him, it was rather impossible to understand how he could relax so comfortably.

“Come closer,” he held his arm out, waving you over.

“Why? What for?”

“‘Cause I wanna hold you, so just come here.” Suddenly, Gojo leaned up a bit, grabbing ahold of your wrist before pulling you on top of him.

With his other hand, he gripped the back of your thigh, moving your leg over his hips as he leaned back. He sighed with contentment once you were fully on top of him. Releasing your wrist, the white-haired man touched the side of your face, slowly guiding your head to his chest. “See? Isn’t this better than laying on those skeletons?”

“I guess so,” you mumbled against his chest.

“Why are you so tense?” Gojo guided his hand across one of your shoulders, and he started to rub it.

“Hard to relax when you’re trapped in the prison realm,” you paused. “Not to mention I’m literally laying on top of you.”

“So? We hug and stuff all the time.”

“This is more than hugging, and we’ve barely done that,” you smiled softly. “Kinda nice, though. You’re pretty warm.”

“You’re pretty warm too. And really soft.” With his other hand — the one that never left your thigh — Gojo slowly stroked you, gliding his hand up and down, but not daring to touch your ass just yet.

But he wanted to. Desperately.

Suddenly, Gojo shifted his body, squirming just a bit.

“You okay?” You questioned, lifting your head off of his chest to look at his blindfolded face. “Want me to get off?”

“No, not at all, everything’s fine,” Gojo lied.

Truth be told, his dick was starting to harden in his pants, and he could barely stand it.

“Oh, okay,” laying your head back down on Gojo’s chest, you spoke once again. “Satoru? What are we supposed to do until someone saves us? Just sit here and wait?”

“No, that’s a bad idea,” Gojo said.

“Then what should we do?”

Before he answered, Gojo placed his finger underneath his blindfold, pulling at it playfully.

“Well, we should probably fuck, right?”

It took a moment for Gojo’s sinful words to fully sink in. Upon realizing that you had heard him correctly, your head snapped up, your eyes widening with utter shock.

“What?”

“You heard me, sweetheart,” Gojo smirked. “No need to make such a big deal out of it. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Yes, but . . .” You paused, darting your eyes across the vast, skeleton-filled, dark space. “Here? Of all places?”

Gojo shifted once again. He gripped his pants, but he truthfully wanted to grip his cock instead.

“I’d fuck you anywhere,” Gojo said lowly. “I just think it’s time we finally fuck each other, don’t you?”

Suddenly, his large hand gripped the back of your head, and your best friend shoved his lips against yours.

“Hmm,” Gojo moaned softly, kissing you passionately with those sweet, feathery lips of his. Kissing you — finally, after so many years of dreaming about it — was a magical experience. Before, he never believed in soulmates or seeing fireworks when kissing someone — until now.

“Shit, you’re so . . .” His words trailed off as he pulled away, his warm breath patting against your pretty face.

“Satoru,” you mumbled against his lips, “I didn’t know you thought of me this way. I didn’t think that I’d be someone you’d wanna sleep with.”

“Really? Why’s that?” As Gojo spoke, he took off his blindfold, staring at you — then your lips — with those vibrant, ocean-blue eyes of his.

“We’ve barely even hugged,” when you frowned, just a little bit, Gojo wanted to kiss your pouty lips over and over again until his mouth was sore.

God, he wanted you in ways he couldn’t even begin to vocalize.

But he’d certainly try.

“And I thought I was being obvious this entire time,” Gojo paused. “Whenever we would fight together, side by side, do you know how hard it was to concentrate? All I could ever focus on in the middle of battle was trying not to let myself get distracted by you. Hearing you grunt and groan, just watching the way you’d move. I’ve always wanted to take you home with me once the fight ended, toss you on my bed, and find out all the noises you can make; see how loud you can get. I just gotta hear you moan for me, baby. I have to.”

Running his thumb over your soft mouth, he slightly pulled down on your bottom lip, all before he leaned in again, moving his thumb away and replacing it with his lips.

This time, when he kissed you, he didn’t hold back. That sweet tongue of his entered your mouth as if it was on a mission, and he swirled his tongue around yours, enjoying every little surprised noise you made just as much as he enjoyed tasting your delicious mouth. He’d kiss you forever if he could.

A small part of him hoped that the two of you would never get released, and he could spend eternity with his tongue sloppily flicking against yours.

A pair of large hands suddenly gripped your ass. When you gasped, pulling away from Gojo’s lips, he smiled. You were just too cute.

Who knew that the prison realm would actually turn out to be heaven?

“You’re so tense,” Gojo said with a hint of a teasing tone. “Has no one ever touched you like this before?”

“People have — I mean, I’ve done stuff before, it’s just . . .”

When you failed to finish your sentence, Gojo took it upon himself to finish it for you.

“It’s just that no one’s ever made you feel good before,” his sly grin only grew. “Right?”

“I-” you stammered, “that’s none of your business.”

“Lay down.”

“Why?” You asked, your curiosity at its peak.

“I wanna eat you out, sweet girl. Now lay down.” Gojo’s hands moved from your ass to your hips, and he lifted you off of his lap and laid you down next to him.

He then flipped over on top of you, giving you another kiss — a little, quick one — before he started to impatiently unbutton your pants.

“What kinda best friend would I be if I just let you keep living your life without having had a proper orgasm?” He said, shrugging off your bottoms. “Told you not to waste any time with all those shitty guys. You should’ve been with me from the start.”

“Yeah, yeah,” rolling your eyes, you sat up on your elbows, looking down at the sorcerer between your thighs, who slowly pulled down your underwear and held your legs open. “You’re not the first guy who has said a bunch of hot things to me, but then failed to deliver-”

You were interrupted by your own unexpected gasp, as it was elicited from your throat thanks to Gojo’s skillful tongue, which had swiped right across your clit.

He was such a tease; that tongue of his could work wonders. And it did. He flicked at your clit rapidly, and during every quick stroke, his eyes never glanced away from your face.

You started to squirm, but he held onto your thighs, convinced that absolutely nothing in this world could make him want to stop eating your pussy. Not when it tasted so undeniably good.

“Had no idea this pretty pussy was so damn delicious,” he pulled away, mumbling against your wet folds. “Should’ve done this a long time ago, baby.”

When he dived back into your pussy, he licked and sucked, sucked and licked. Good god, you tasted amazing. So, so amazing. He couldn’t help but moan as he made a mess of your pussy; your juices and his spit decorating his face.

“Oh my god, Satoru,” you moaned, “I’m close-”

Once again, your words were cut off by your own uncontrollable moans. That sweet orgasm was brewing right in the pit of your stomach.

You expected him to pull away once you warned him about your approaching orgasm, but he didn’t. Instead, he pressed his calloused fingertips into your plush thighs even harder, and he ate your pussy as messily as possible. Licked at it more rapidly. Sucked on your clit more hungrily.

“Cum in my mouth,” he moaned out in between licks. “Don’t hold back; I want it all. Cum in my mouth right now.”

“Gojo!” You called out. Last warning.

Instead of pulling away, he reached forward, grabbing ahold of your soft tits. With his fingers, he flicked at your hard nipples through the thin fabric of your shirt.

And with that, you arched your back off of the hard ground, moaning his name over and over again like a sinner praying for forgiveness.

Gojo lapped up your juices as if he was dying of thirst. He’ll be damned if he missed even a single drop of it.

“Damn it,” he said as he detached his lips from your swollen clit. “I wanna eat you out over and over again, but I gotta fuck you. I just gotta know what it’s like to be inside of you.”

Gojo sat up on his knees. He unbuttoned his pants. When he pulled them down, along with his boxers, his hard dick flung out.

You couldn’t help but stare at the mesmerizing large dick. The tip of it was red and swollen, precum dripping from his aching hole. Two long, thick veins ran along his member.

“You’re so big,” you stated, darting your eyes between his hard cock and handsome face.

“It’s okay,” Positioning himself in between your legs, he said, “I’ll make it fit, baby.”

When he pressed the tip of his dick against your awaiting hole, it felt like he was stepping through the gates of heaven.

One hand was placed next to your head, holding himself up, while his other hand gripped your hip.

His dick slid inside of your soaking wet pussy as if it belonged there; pieces of a puzzle coming together. The sinful moan that fell from between his lips was beautiful.

He couldn’t help it.

Not when your pussy was so tight, wet, and warm.

“Hmm, hey baby?” Gojo whispered, his warm breath patting against your ear, soft white hair tickling the side of your face. “You called me Gojo instead of Satoru earlier when I was eating your pussy. I want you to moan it again for me, over and over again. Can you do that?”

You nodded eagerly.

“Such a sweet girl,” he gave the shell of your ear a quick little lick. “So, so sweet.”

He didn’t wait too long to start thrusting in and out of you once your pussy had adjusted to his size. He simply couldn’t. Not when you felt so utterly amazing.

With his lips still close to your ear as he fucked you, the chatty man whispered all sorts of dirty things. And it only made you moan even louder.

“I could fuck you just like this forever. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He grunted, slamming himself inside of you at a quicker pace. “Sorry if I’m being too rough. I can’t help it, baby. Your pussy’s driving me crazy, just like I knew it would. I knew my best friend would feel this good. Who else other than me would know what to do with a pussy like this? Hm?”

“Gojo,” you called out, gripping his shoulders for dear life. “Gojo, I can’t- I’m gonna cum again!”

“Already?” He smirked, pulling away from your ear, his face only a few inches away from yours. “Gonna cum all over my dick? Make a mess?”

You didn’t respond — you couldn’t respond — not when he rhythmically fucked you like a doll, the tip of his dick reaching all the right spots inside of you.

“Shit,” Gojo suddenly groaned. “Think I’m gonna cum too, baby. I can’t hold it . . . Can’t fucking hold it much longer. I’m gonna fill you up. Stuff that pretty pussy with my cum. No one else will get to.”

“Please do it,” you stammered out with a whine, struggling to speak from the way your body was being pounded into. “P-Please!”

Suddenly, Gojo felt your pussy tighten around his cock. A wave of pure bliss washed over you, making your toes curl as you moaned his name in broken syllables.

The prettiest tears started to fall from your eyes. Gojo kissed them away.

His own orgasm was approaching quickly, building up in his lower stomach, dick, balls, and even his thighs.

“I’m so close — I’m right there, baby. I’m right there. Shit — I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum right inside of you, baby — there’s so much of it. I’m cumming-”

Feeling your cum coat his cock as your pussy milked him pushed him right over the edge. He moaned so loudly, it would have been entirely unsurprising if someone could have heard it from outside of the box.

He shot ropes upon ropes of warm, thick, pearly cum inside of you. His dick throbbed with every pulse, spilling every last drop of his semen into your stuffed hole.

“Baby,” Gojo whined lowly, attempting to catch his breath. “I didn’t think I’d ever stop cumming. You drive me crazy.”

“Can we go again?” Looking into his eyes with a pleading glance, you said, “I need more, Gojo, make me cum again. Please?”

“Did I just turn my best friend into my little slut?” Smirking, Gojo leaned down, kissing your lips once again. It was his favorite thing to do. “I’ll make you cum as many times as you want, sweetheart. We might be here for a while, so why not?”

Suddenly, Gojo lifted you, switching your positions until you were sitting right on top of him, his dick still inside of you.

“The prison realm doesn’t seem so bad anymore,” you grinned.

Gripping your hips, Gojo’s eyes scanned over your beautiful body, admiring the perfect view as you started to ride him.

Perhaps, he would have to thank Kenjaku someday.

🏷: @allofffmypeaches @manjiroswifo @yourusernames @armani78 @darkphoenix3432 @komonika

[lavenderspence]

Sweater Thief | A.H.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Content warning: fluff, domestic fluff, mention of scars, inaccurate use of law jargon

Word Count: 1.5K

Summary: You’ve always loved wearing Aaron’s quarter zip, especially when he is away on a case. But he also loves coming home and seeing you in it.

A/N: Welp, this is my first Hotch fic! Honestly, I love this so much, and the inspo is simply my love and appreciation for Hotch in a quarter zip sweater, simply delicious. Enjoy this little baby, I have more Hotch fics in the works. And also, storyboards or gifs, what's better?

masterlist

The house felt unusually cold for mid-September. The sun had long ago gone down the horizon, taking the little warmth it had provided with itself. Your home was quiet - Jack was spending the 3 day weekend with Jessica, and Aaron had been on a case in Massachusetts for the past 4 days. 

You were feeling the loneliness slowly start to take over. Although Jack had been gone for no more than 4 hours, you had gotten used to it being the two of you whenever Aaron was away. He’d become your little partner in crime in the year and a half you've been dating his dad. He was an unbelievably charming and calm kid - you guessed the perfect mixture of both his parents. At least you thought as much, from what Aaron, Jessica, and Jack had shared about Haley. 

He loved cartoons, and he loved building things - legos and 3D models. He also loved puzzles, especially when you helped him assemble them. 

But you also shared one very important thing - you both loved and missed his dad whenever he was traveling for work. That’s why having each other was so special, and spending time together was always a blast - you baked together, you played, and you went on walks. You were there for each other whenever Aaron had to work.

To be fair, neither you nor Jack blame Aaron or his job. You knew how important it was to him and how important his work was to the families that faced tragedy. He was an important part of the BAU, and he needed to do what he was doing - he was made to help people. 

But not having him here and not having Jack to love on, and take care of, the house felt far too empty and quiet. It was bringing forth a sadness that often came with the feeling of missing him, and in this case, missing them both.

With a defeated sigh, knowing you had nothing to do this evening, and with the cold chilling you almost to the bone, you started for the stairs and walked into the master bedroom. You made it into the closet and went searching around deep in Aaron’s winter clothes until you found what you were looking for and pulled it free. 

The quarter zip was dark brown and soft against your palms, and it faintly smelled like him. It was one of your favorite pieces of clothing he owned and your favorite to wear when he wasn’t home. 

You pulled it on, almost melting into the fabric. It was a little big on you, reaching down past your hipbones, and around your fingers. That was fine though, it was just another reason to love his clothes. You felt like you were wrapped around him, calmed by the feeling and the scent of him around you. It made you feel just a tad less lonely, especially today. 

You went around the house, doing small things here and there, trying to pass the time. After an hour though, you felt like you needed your mind occupied, just for a little while longer. Like a part deep inside of you was expecting Aaron home tonight.

It wouldn’t be the first time you’d stayed up to wait for him to get home, but he usually called if he was returning in the late hours of the evening. A call hadn’t come though, neither had a text, and still you felt it. 

You found yourself in the study, pulling a book from the shelf before you relaxed on the little couch there and cracked it open. No more than 40 minutes had gone by, escaping into the world the pages painted for you, when you heard the front door. The familiar clank of Aaron’s keys being put on the little table by the door followed. 

You dog-eared the book, too excited to search for anything else to mark your progress, and then you left the room, making your way towards the front to welcome him home.

He’d just taken his shoes off, pulling his tie free, when you spotted him by the door. He heard you walk it, smiling your way gently, if a little tiredly.

“Hi, honey.” He greeted you with a whisper, just as you stepped in front of him. Your arms automatically wrapped around his middle, and your face found its’ favorite place - at the crook of his neck. You sagged against each other, a sigh escaping him, just your touch enough to make him relax.

“Hey, I missed you.” You whispered back, as he pulled you even closer to himself, one arm low on your back, as the other cradled your head with a gentle touch.

“I missed you, too.” He pulled back, only to lean in for a sweet kiss. His lips pressed against yours tenderly, a magnetic current passing through you at the touch. As you relaxed into the kiss, letting him bleed his love though, the longing within you quieted. You took everything he gave, and still wished for more, starving for him and his touch, after days when you couldn’t have him like this.  

You’d never get enough of the kisses he pulled you into the moment he walked home. The yarning for each other and the quiet relief of finally being in the arms of the person who loved and cherished you like no other. Kisses full of want and love. So similar in taste, but vastly different every time, as if each time was the first time he was coming back home to you. 

When he pulled away, he cradled your face in his hands. You studied him, the dark circles under his eyes were now more evident than ever. His hair looked unkempt as if the frustration of the job had really gotten to him this time. The more he looked at you, the more his eyes softened, and the worry left his body gradually. 

“Why are you up this late?” His thumb ran across your cheekbone.

“Had a feeling you might be coming home tonight.” He pulled you to him, kissing the side of your head as you slowly started pulling him towards the bedroom. He left his go bag next to the door, leaving the worry of unpacking for tomorrow. 

You finished pulling his tie free, before removing it. His suit jacket came off next, and you draped it over the back of the vanity chair. 

His hands found a place on your hips, and every few seconds he’d give you a light squeeze as you worked on unbuttoning his shirt.

“Isn’t this the sweater I was looking for before I went to Boston?” He tugged on it gently, a furrow in his brows, but the smile on his face betrayed him, he was amused because he already knew the answer.

“Oh, this one? I must have been thinking about another one, sorry honey.” You were barely holding in your smile. This was in fact the quarter zip he had been looking for 4 days ago, wanting to pack it in case of bad weather, but you’d stashed it deep into the closet after the last time he’d worn it. 

He chuckled, sounding tired, as you pulled off his shirt, laying a few kisses on his chest and abdomen as you chased the phantom pain of the scars left standing from his past. Each one got attention, just like every time you undressed him. His breathing always picked up, at first in surprise, and quickly after that out of love. 

You knew his feelings about the scars left from a dark moment in his life, having talked about it at length, and you always told him the same thing. Regardless of his past, his demons, fears, and even those scars, the man that he was now, was the man you loved. The man you went home to, kissed every morning and each night, whose smile you saw in your sleep. Nothing was going to change that. 

You went in search of a sleep shirt for him as he finished getting undressed. 

“I knew you were a heart thief, sweetheart, I mean, I have the evidence to prove it, but a sweater thief, I didn’t take you for.” He pulled you into another kiss, voice teasing, as was the smile on his face. He always claimed you stole his heart, but then again, he’d stolen yours just the same. 

“Your honor, the prosecution has no evidence to support such a claim, it’s all a ploy to smear my good name,” You rambled, getting a rich laugh out of him, “In all fairness, it smells like you, reminds me of you in the sweetest and hottest way possible. It’s comforting, whenever you’re away on the job.” You confessed. 

He searched your eyes before he pulled you in to kiss your forehead, “Next time we’re sent on a case, I’ll make sure to leave something for you to wear while I’m away.” He promised, before he undressed you too, pulling one of his shirts over your head, and taking you to bed, where he cuddled you until morning. 

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

[the-archxr]

forever is the sweetest con

bucky barnes x afab!reader

summary: you and bucky might not have forever, but at least you have each other.

content: 18+, mdni. porn with plot; implied slow-burn, will they/won’t they/right-person-wrong-time bullshit; avoidant attachment behaviour (jumpscare, I know); angst; coworkers/friends to…something more…?; mutual yearning/pining; fingering; semi-public sex—an attempted quickie; love confessions—this shit is very romantic.

a/n: *gif isn’t mine, its from pinterest* reputation, specifically dress, was on repeat when I wrote this. take from that what you will.

word count: 4.6k

main m.list

•••

It had been three years since you last saw him.

Three years, almost down to the day, since you decided that your days as an Avenger were coming to an end.

Sam had donned the shield, and somehow, that was enough for you to officially head into retirement. A final closing of the chapter on your bygone era. For good, this time. No more owed favours or defences left to join.

It was the first time in your life you had ever felt so certain.

Until he asked you to stay.

Three years ago, Bucky—shrouded in smoke and strobing ambulance lights, smelling of diesel and earth—asked you if there was any harm in staying.

His timing was a bit odd, having waited until you were in your car before finally laying it all out on the line.

Or maybe it was perfect.

Because ever since then, you’ve thought about his question—about him.

If your seatbelt hadn’t been fastened, you might not have driven away. You just might have actually stayed.

But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

Because of this, you always told yourself that if you ever saw him again, it would be different. He would be different. You told yourself he would not be the same Bucky you traded for a life of peace.

But with the way he’s looking at you now—across the gilded room, eyes finding yours around every moving body—you can’t help but be unnerved.

This isn’t what you planned for.

Bucky looks at you in the exact same way he did all those years ago. Tender. Raw.

A small circle of oblivious partygoers beside you attracts your attention. Their laughter and clinking glasses bubble, becoming one with the rest of the crowd as they stumble off.

With the distraction gone, you finally braved looking back across the room.

Needing to find his gaze, if only one more time, was instinctual at this point. Something you couldn’t suppress, even if you tried.

And fuck, have you tried.

You scan the room, looking at faces and exposed hands, drinks and smiles. But Bucky is nowhere to be found.

He disappeared just as quickly as he had come, and you know that it’s because of you.

Propped up in the corner alone, entirely too sober, and visibly uncomfortable, you become painfully aware of yourself.

But maybe this is your karma. Maybe this is why your circumstances are so unfortunate—you weren’t even supposed to be here in the first place. Technically, the gala invitation had been meant for your boss. But you were eager to impress. Like, somehow you had to ‘prove’ your normalcy.

But you didn’t have to. You had it.

You just became too overzealous.

Icarus flew too close to the sun, and you accepted filling in for your boss on a networking gig that you really should’ve asked more questions about.

And now you have to face the consequences.

“It’s kind of you to hold up the wall.”

Your body goes cold. Erratic fingers now remain frozen in place.

When you turn, you see that Bucky is already smiling at you, two flutes of champagne in hand. “Hi, —.”

You take a shaky breath. “Hi, Bucky.”

Up close, you can confirm that he really looks no different than when you left. You figured that your eyes were just playing tricks on you earlier, imagining things. For your sake, you hoped that if you saw him again—face to face, wandering eye to wandering eye—he’d be unrecognizable.

But, no. He just looks like Bucky—your Bucky.

That fact feels more like a curse than a blessing right now.

The two of you stand in silence, unsure of what to say or if you should even say anything at all. You opt to busy yourself with the lines on the parkade floor instead.

“Thought you’d never be caught dead at one of these again.” He says the words like they’re an inside joke. You have to remind yourself to breathe.

“It’s a work thing”, you respond flatly. “I honestly didn’t know it was for you guys.”

Bucky sips at his drink, warily maintaining eye contact with you. “I’m glad you’re here, though,” Bucky eventually says. The shyness in his voice surprises you. “It’s really…really good to see you, —.”

You don’t respond, but you manage to force a little smile. Measured. Pleasant. Evidence of you being on your best behaviour. Besides your roaming eyes, at least.

Unfortunately, they’re not as controlled as you’d like them to be.

But, if push comes to shove, you could always blame tradition.

You and Bucky have an unspoken agreement. A ritual, of sorts, that you rely on during moments like this. Observe and pretend.

If your years in SHIELD taught you anything, it was how to watch and how to see with the briefest of passing glances.

Visual study is light work for trained government agents.

But when it comes to this—when it involves the two of you, and whatever it is that you guys are—it’s not so simple. It’s more than just observing how time passed shows on each other’s skin.

It’s about taking the time to commit everything you see to memory.

To document it all—the slick-backed hair curling behind his ear, the flecks of grey in his beard, the eyes that darken in the moody amber light—and lock it away. Keep it safe for some lonely night in the future where all you can do is ruminate, and the only thing you can think about is ‘what if’.

“…You look good,” you say wistfully. A mindless and stupid act on your part. Heat floods your face, forcing your eyes down. “I-I meant, you look like you’re doing good.”

Bucky chuckles. The sound of it makes you ache.

“Thanks. I’ve, uh, actually been getting some sleep, so I’ve been feeling a lot better.” You nod and take a drink. “You look good, too, by the way. …Beautiful, actually.”

The champagne in your stomach threatens to come back up. Bucky, though, is none the wiser—still looking at you, soft and fond.

With rolled back shoulders and a straightened spine, you clamour to change the subject. “You’ve, uh, been busy, too—lately, it seems.”

Mindless. Stupid.

Bucky clears his throat. “Who knew, right? …One minute I’m wanted by the state, then the next—“

“You’re an Avenger,” you continue. “And a Congressman.”

A sly grin forms on his face. One, he doesn’t even try to hold back. “Have you been stalking me, Ms. —?”

You roll your eyes and bite back a familiar grin. “You wish, Barnes. I just have a strong internet connection and a knack for boredom-fuelled curiosity.”

“A deadly combination,” Bucky hums into his glass.

In trying to suppress the wide smile breaking free, you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood. The sting is a good stabilizer.

“So, what about you?”

When you look up to meet his eyes, you realize that the two of you have been gradually getting closer. Another annoyingly instinctual response.

You try not to give the sparking in your chest too much attention.

“—How’s retirement been treating you?” Bucky asks.

You hesitate for a moment, unaware of how to sum up the past three years of your life.

“Um…good.” The word feels wrong immediately. “Quiet,” is your correction.

“Quiet, huh?” Bucky looks away briefly, over to a boisterous group in the centre of the room. From the slight fondness in his features, you assume they’re likely his new team. “Well, that’s—I’m glad. That’s what you always wanted, right?”

You nod despite him not looking your way.

Bucky shifts his weight from one foot to another, still lost in thought. Then, slowly, they travel back to you and settle on your hands. “And, is it…just…you?”

“…You mean, am I seeing someone?”

Bucky’s shoulders fall back against the wall. He gulps, too, although he tries to hide that more. “I’m just…curious,” he says a bit defensively. “I didn’t—I don’t see a ring. That’s why I’m asking.”

“You were looking for a ring? Congressman…” you tease.

Bucky’s smile is genuine, but it still doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I just happened to notice. Don’t flatter yourself, doll.”

The nickname—a simple word that, at the end of the day, you’d hate if it came out of anybody else’s mouth—hits you hard. It makes your stomach twist, and your hands shake, and your mouth go dry.

It also makes you want to beg him to say it again.

You polish off the rest of your drink, which at this point has gone flat. Then, quietly, you say, “No, I’m not seeing anyone—not right now. …Not anymore.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Bucky stiffen. A fist clenches at his side, and his eyes shut for a few seconds before he seemingly releases himself. Guilt cramps in your stomach at the sight.

A guilt for what? You’re not entirely sure.

You don’t even know if you should be telling him this. If it even matters. If at this point it’s morally right to do so, or just plain cruel.

All you know is that you’ve never been able to hide anything from Bucky. Even when your insides scream at you to turn away, to run and hide, to forget you ever saw him.

“…His name was Connor. We, um, dated for two years.”

Bucky’s silent. You wait. It’s painful. Your lungs can’t hold onto air for the life of you, and your fingers are sore from being constantly picked at.

“Was he…” Bucky takes a harsh breath. “Was he good to you?”

His words force you to pause and collect yourself. “Yeah. He was. Actually, Connor was kind of perfect, in a way. He was kind, a-and attractive, and funny, and he always tried to bring me breakfast in bed on Sundays. …He just…he had a wonderfully quiet life.”

Bucky hardly makes a sound, but you know that he’s listening. You know that he’s just taking the time to digest all that you’ve said.

Out loud, speaking of Connor feels like admitting to a long-kept secret. And the thought makes you sick. He was the longest relationship you’ve ever had—by no means a secret. You lived together. You had a life together.

But it was a life that Bucky didn’t get to witness. A life you made sure he wasn’t a part of—in any capacity.

That fact alone nearly disables you.

Bucky has his bottom lip tucked behind his teeth, gnawing on the flesh nervously. His voice cracks when he goes to speak. “Why’d you break up? If you don’t mind me asking…”

“We stopped understanding each other, I guess. He wanted to do more with his career, and…after everything I’ve seen and done, the plans he had, they just… Like I said, we didn’t understand each other anymore.” Your voice trails off. You unintentionally end up mimicking Bucky’s slumped figure.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky whispers.

You shrug plainly. “It is what it is.”

A waiter comes by, collecting both of your empty glasses before hurrying off into the party. You end up going back to spinning the gold ring around your finger. “What about you, Barnes—are you seeing anyone special?”

You offer Bucky a friendly smile, even though the thought of him with someone else makes you physically ill.

“No.”

Your heart leaps. Shame immediately crawls in from behind your ribs.

“No one?” The shock in your voice is evident. “…Not even dating?”

Bucky shakes his head gently. “I think in the past three years, I’ve been on a total of…two dates? Neither one got very far.” Your jaw falls open just enough to grab his attention. “…Is something wrong?”

“N-no! No, I just…I’m surprised, that’s all. Surprised that no one would…you know…”

He turns against the wall on his shoulder, closing whatever distance was left. The air was thinning; muddled with all the nagging thoughts and feelings you keep stifling.

“I never said I didn’t date because no one has been interested in me,” Bucky says simply. “I don’t date because I don’t want to.”

You can’t help yourself from asking ‘why’. And, at this point, you’re convinced your curiosity has a mind of its own. Like it’s completely set on orchestrating your downfall.

Bucky hesitates, gears visibly turning in his head. Until his eyes flash to yours, something sure and smouldering within them. “I guess I’ve just been too busy holding on.”

“Holding on to what?” You echo.

“Hope.”

Your mind skips—a broken record, a preemptive warning.

Turn away. Stop. Go back. Turn away.

“Hope is a dangerous thing to have,” you find yourself saying.

“It’s a damning thing to have,” Bucky concludes. Between you, a calloused hand attempts to reach out; fingers brushing your knuckles without any hesitation. “It’s hard to want someone else when I’m hoping for you.”

It’s not that time slows down or speeds up in that moment. You just become more aware of it.

As if, suddenly, your body is completely and wholly cognizant of everything. Of where you are, of what you’re wearing, of the blood pounding in your ears, of the pinky touching yours, of the earthy scent that makes your chest contract.

You’re exposed, and it’s because of him.

It’s all because of him.

When you first became friends, you found it kind of funny that you got along so well, that you guys just clicked. He understood you better than anyone else had before, and he’s been the only one to truly know you like that ever since.

Hope is a damning thing—his words.

The light refracting from the chandelier above is dimmed by Bucky’s shadow. It looms over you, but never cages you. He’s still giving you the chance to run.

The freedom only makes it that much harder on you.

Blinking back an onslaught of tears, you will yourself to look him in the eye. “Do you…remember what I said to you—that night, wh-when you asked me to stay?”

A pause.

“You, uh…you said we were ‘too smart’ for ideas like that,” Bucky answers quietly. So quiet that you’re surprised you can still hear him.

You’re nodding before you speak. “Well…that’s what I’m saying to you now.”

A loud roaring laugh passes by your sheltered corner. It kills you a little to see people so elated while you stand here and break the love of your life’s heart all over again.

Bucky holds his breath. You see it in his chest—the expansion, the stillness.

“—…”

“No—Bucky, please.” You wince. “…It doesn’t work out for people like us. Right? You—you know that…”

The man in question frowns, a sad acceptance.

You always swore you had a strong resolve. A thick backbone. You had to in order to be a SHIELD agent-turned-Avenger.

Whether your time out of the game had turned you soft, or if it was just Bucky’s presence, you’re not sure. But as you acknowledge yours and Bucky’s hurt, your resolve crumbles.

It hurts to encourage the pain. But you reason now—as you have had to many times before—that it’s for the best. That this is the right thing to do.

The responsible thing.

“Because of what we do, who we are, this—this would never work. It has never ended well. …We’d only be hurting ourselves in the end, Buck. It’s—it’s not worth it.”

“…Connor was worth it, though, right?” Bucky’s words are sharp, cutting. They scar you right where you stand.

“Bucky—“

“I’m just saying, —. You sit here and talk about being smart a-and how distance and all that is good. You know, sounding exactly like how I used to—“ At this point, the man is gasping for air. “But…but you fall in love with someone else? Two years of your life, —; was that not worth it?”

“It was worth it! Because at least I knew that every time he left the house, he was coming back,” you snap.

Silence.

Bucky’s eyes are a marvel: big and watery and as wildly blue as a stormy ocean. “What makes you think I wouldn’t come back home to you?”

The sound you make then is agonizing. “You can’t guarantee that.”

Without warning, Bucky places a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’re right,” Bucky whispers into your hairline. Your eyes involuntarily flutter, as if doing so could allow you to feel the gesture tenfold. “But I can promise you that I would try.”

You want to tell him that it’s not enough. Being an Avenger doesn’t allow for the same liberties as everyone else. Death and loss, and irrevocable change are all part and parcel. Commitment, partnership, love—they don’t belong in that lifestyle.

At least you and Connor had the luxury of stability, of reassurance. But with Bucky, the act of being in love is a terrifying one.

Loving Bucky is easy, despite what he says. But being in love with him, consciously choosing to love him, takes a lot of inner strength.

But you’re selfish.

You’re selfish to fall in love with someone while they’re falling in love with you. You’re selfish to test the waters, only to run in the other direction at the first sight of a rippling wave. You’re selfish to hope, even slightly, that Bucky would wait for you after all this time.

“If I allow myself to love you, I won’t be able to let you go.” Your lowly confession successfully slips through the chinks in your armour. It hangs heavy in the air once it’s free, and you’re entirely too tired to rein it back in.

Bucky hands still on your shoulders, holding you as he tries to meet your eyes.

“I don’t want you to.”

He looks at you like you’re everything. You look back at him because you know he is.

You let out a breathy laugh. “Since when did you become good at having emotional conversations?”

“Since you became so damn bad at it," he replies without missing a beat.

Bucky’s smile almost triggers yours. Almost. You’re still terrified of the reality that stands before you.

It’s a scary thing to care about something this much that you innately anticipate losing it.

Because those two things—love and loss—go hand-in-hand. They’re inseparable. One can’t exist without the other.

“…Will we regret this?”

Bucky sighs. “Maybe.” Hands delicately cradle your face. Careful, yet unafraid. “…But not right now.”

His face is so very close to yours, champagne lingering on his breath. You expect to move, to cross that line. But he doesn’t.

He waits.

Your mind fires off reservations, fears, worries, unaddressed concerns and technicalities that you’re sure you’ll feel tomorrow.

Not right now.

The first kiss is soft. A feather-light touch; skin on skin. It’s hesitant, not scared. An effort of held-back anticipation rather than apprehension.

Bucky, the old-fashioned gentleman that he is, is the first to pull away. He keeps a safe distance: far enough where he gets to measure your reaction, yet still satisfy whatever desire he has to be as close to you as possible.

It’s you who pulls him back in.

The second kiss is firm. It exhibits a hunger, a desperation that could only be triggered by starvation. With a few nips to his lower lip and your hand clawing at his chest, you hope to tell him just how badly you need this.

Bucky backs you up into the wall, both hands—hot flesh and cold metal—holding your face still as he prods at your mouth. You scratch at his face, letting the thin skin of your palms become familiar with the feel of his scruff.

You want to feel more. You need to feel more.

But you’re also acutely aware that your environment isn’t ideal.

“Buck,” you kiss the warning into his upper lip. He chases you with his mouth. Another kiss. “Congressman, we’re in public.”

Bucky groans. It’s hearty, it reverberates. It instantly shoots down to your core. “‘M not waiting. Don’t think you want to either, doll—not with how you’re kissin’ me.” Teeth nip at the edge of your ear.

The whole thing is disorienting. Enough to make you rip his clothes off then and there, without a second thought.

Except, fucking like rabbits in the middle of a government-funded gala wasn’t a responsible thing to do.

That didn’t mean fucking was completely off the table, though.

“You have any other ideas, Barnes…?”

•

In a matter of minutes, after a balancing act of evading his team, Valentina, and a few mostly sober government officials, you and Bucky find yourselves in a bathroom on the other side of the building.

The area had been roped off, guarded by two golden posts corded together, with a sign that read “entry prohibited”. And, based on the sight of the oddly lavish bathroom alone—forest-green walls, dark gold faucets, and glittering black tile—you expect the sign was up for good reason.

Not that it really mattered to either of you.

Bucky had half a mind to lock the door, but he took far too long for your liking. He shakes the handle—just to make sure—while your mouth wanders.

“Looks who’s impatient now.” Lips slot against yours, teeth clacking and noses squished.

You huff. “Shut up, Barnes.”

Bucky takes a turn mapping your neck with his slick, open mouth. “I’d like to make it known, by the way, that this”—a kiss under your ear—“isn’t”—another to the hollow of your throat—“how I imagined our first time to be.”

Intrigue, and maybe a bit of pride, pull at your face like puppet strings. “You’ve thought about this before?” You hum as Bucky kisses the hyper-sensitive junction of your neck. “You’ve got a dirty mind, Congressman.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” is Bucky’s gruff reply.

Without warning, thick arms come up under your thighs and lift you onto the sink. Bucky acts like it’s nothing, manhandling you like that. You, however, aren’t so nonchalant. What once felt like molten lava in your veins had now become a raging fire.

It was a trigger for your more feral desires. Resurfaced thoughts and primitive sensations that only cared about what else he could do to you.

God, you wanted him to do it all.

Impatient fingers start to work at his clothes—peeling off his jacket, loosening his tie, undoing the first few buttons of his shirt. You then yank on his belt and pull him towards you.

Except Bucky is quick to cover your hands with his. “Doll, I need to make sure you want this,” he whispers. “—That you want this as much as I do.”

He gives you the chance to take his request to heart, but you know you don’t even have to think twice about it.

Realized by the weight of him between your legs, you have the sense that you two are freakishly and inexplicably right. After all this time, it honestly feels silly to have imagined the two of you as anything other than inevitable.

“Need you, Bucky. Need you so, so bad,” you whine and kiss the tip of his nose.

He’s back on you in an instant.

As his tongue explores your mouth, his fingers begin to toy with the thin straps of your dress. “Want this off.”

You help him out a bit and slide the satin down your torso. As your bra is revealed, Bucky’s stare intensifies, carefully tracing every curve and clean line.

“There are no straps,” he mumbles eventually.

You shift under his gaze. “Um…what?”

“The straps,” he says. An inquisitive metal finger comes up to the edge of the garment, right where the cup ends and the rounded flesh begins. “Where are they?”

“You—you’ve never seen a strapless bra before?” You giggle as he shakes his head. “It didn’t come with any, Buck. That’s the point.”

“I don’t understand—“

You laugh some more, lazily carding your fingers through his hair. “I’ll tell you more about it later, yeah?” Bucky, although still stumped, nods and lets you guide his head forward.

When you kiss him, he lets out a puff of air. The reaction forces you to smile into his mouth. You try to deepen the kiss, to take charge and move his limbs around you as you please—but you don’t get very far.

The second he picks up on your plan, he becomes committed to leaving you breathless. Even when he abandons your mouth and makes his way down to your chest, you’re practically gasping for air.

With your back arched, desperate for a slight reprieve, you angle your hips forward. The slight movement has you firmly pressing into him.

Bucky groans.

Even between the too-many-layers of fabric, you feel him. All of him. It’s a promise that makes your mouth water and your toes curl.

You roll your hips then—an experiment that has you whining and Bucky going rigid.

“Don’t”—his teeth gritted—“start. We don’t have the time for that, doll.”

Against the arm that aims to keep you still, you move your pelvis over his bulge again. Bucky growls.

“Doll,” he warns.

“God, Buck, just—shit—just do something.”

Upon your command, one hand grabs a fistful of your dress. The fabric is roughly lifted until it’s pooling around your thighs.

Your eyes curiously travel down your contorted body, stopping right where Bucky’s arm—taut flesh over strained veins—disappears.

And then you feel it: thick fingers pulling aside the drenched seam of your underwear.

The man’s forehead rams into yours. “Fuck, you want me dead, don’t you…”

You don’t respond, but not for lack of trying.

He’s just so…warm…and he’s everywhere.

He’s all muscle, and weight, and languid pressure—and god, your heart feels like it’s swelling beyond capacity.

You gasp when he slides a finger through your folds.

Your brain urges you to do something. Tease him; spit out a smart quip. Hell, even slide off the counter and get on your knees.

But you can’t.

Two fingers slip into you then, curling just at the knuckle before partially pulling out, and you go limp. A pliable mess of his doing.

It’s embarrassing how close you already are.

It only becomes more embarrassing when the pad of his thumb starts rubbing tight circles on your clit.

The entire lower half of your body tightens, almost instantly. You’re shaking, panting, and desperate for more.

More Bucky. More friction.

More.

You’re so consumed with needing more, your hips start rocking back and forth on their own accord.

“Buck,” you whimper.

The man in question looks up from the mess he’s made of your chest, and you nearly come on the spot.

Swollen lips, glossy with his own spit. Hazy eyes that are nearly black from blown-out pupils. A cherry-red flush paints the rest of his face.

Fucked out—that’s how he looks.

Content. Blissful. Like he’s somehow enjoying himself more than you.

A muscle in his arm twitches then. What quickly follows is a new pace, a new force in his thrusting fingers that has the knot in your stomach contracting.

“Take whatever you need, doll. Whatever you need, it’s yours,” he says, finally adding a third finger. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream. “Let go, —. I got you.”

Everything within you seizes.

For a moment, it feels like you’re floating. Entirely weightless, as Bucky’s hands help you ride out your orgasm.

As you come to—aching hips stuttering to a stop, vision slowly clearing—Bucky wipes the sweat from your forehead. He keeps his metal hand there like a cold compress, all the while planting delicate kisses into your cheekbone.

“Are you okay?”

You nod despite a frown beginning to brood. “You…you didn’t—“

“Wasn’t the point, doll,” he lets out a breathy chuckle. His nose affectionately bumps yours.

You shake your head. “Want you to feel good, though.”

Bucky just smiles—all dopey and light. “I do feel good. …Really, really good.”

“But—“

“Why don’t we make it up later? Can show each other just how good we feel…” his voice lowers, returning to that gravelly tone that makes you ache all over again.

Your first instinct is to fight him on this. But, instead, you bite your tongue.

“Fine,” you say. “As long as I get to make it up to you first.”

[ivystoryweaver]

Stay With Me Tonight - Marc Spector

"His scent lingered here in his bed, seducing you while taunting you at the same time. You could find endless pleasure here, but it would inevitably end. You would always have to leave."

Summary: Marc is the easiest and most difficult person you’ve ever gotten to know. You’ve never spent an entire night with him. What does he do when you accidentally fall asleep at his place?

Pairing: Marc Spector x gn!reader who would wear a dress to a big event. Gif does not indicate reader’s race.

Word Count: 5.5k

Content: meet cute at first, reader doesn’t know Marc is a system, newer established situationship, angst, fluff-adjacent at points, domesticity, insecurities, allusions to Marc’s past, talk of DID, Steven is mentioned, very sensual and there is sex but the language remains somewhat vague and gender neutral - more erotic than explicit, allusions to hand stuff, oral and penetration, not beta'd

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

You didn’t know much about Marc Spector at first except that he was from Chicago but was back in the States after years abroad. Now he worked security at your ex's family’s company and that’s how you met, unofficially.

It wasn't that you didn't notice him. He wasn't exactly tall, but his shoulders were broad for his frame, even through the slightly-too-large standard issue button up. He stood with his legs shoulder width apart, one hand holding his opposite wrist in front of him.* The black dress pants did nothing to hide the delicious back side of him. A black tie, plain black baseball cap, matching dress shoes and an earpiece completed his polished and unfairly hot ensemble.

Various people in the building occasionally whispered about "Marc the security guard.” He was kind of hard to miss.

Although you passed Marc every day on your way in to work, exchanging nods or general greetings, it wasn't until the office holiday party that you met him officially.

You almost didn’t recognize him out of his security uniform at first. After two beers, surrounded by coworkers telling jokes, his dark eyes were shining, the corners crinkling as he let loose a little.

As you and your work bestie drifted over, it was almost as if you saw him for the first time. His typical uniform mandated black ball cap was obviously absent, giving you a view of his striking dark curls. They looked so soft, you wondered who was lucky enough to sink their fingers into them. What a shame to hide that hair every day.

Then he smiled at you and it struck a chord deep inside.

A chorus of greetings went up between your two groups, with you all exchanging hellos and hugs. Your eyes landed on his and warmth flared from your neck up to your cheeks.

“Hi Marc,” you gave a little wave.

He said your name, softly. Your first name, not the typical title-and-last-name you got at the security checkpoint each morning. His gaze, intense, but open, drifted to your lips, down the smooth column of your neck to apparently study the shape of your body wrapped in a party dress.

Preferring business trousers and work suits, you realized that Marc had never seen you like this before.

“You look really nice,” he finally said, his gaze returning to yours, as neutral as if he hadn’t just ogled you from head to toe.

“Thanks, you too,” you smiled, admiring how he'd traded his standard issue white button up and black tie for a soft navy sweater. “Never seen you out of uniform.”

By the end of the party, you were kissing him in the copy room, body draped half on top of his. His hands roamed freely, feeling the curves outlined by your dress, the bare skin of your thigh. Hand gripping the nape of your neck, he tilted his head for a deeper taste, groaning as your fingers twisted into his curls, just the way you’d imagined an hour ago.

It was anything but quiet, or appropriate for a public work function, but that didn’t stop his hands from slipping between your legs.

Bellowing laughter from passersby prompted him to tear his mouth from yours, his breath hotly ghosting your cheek. “Wanna get out of here?” He murmured against your lips before brushing his mouth over yours once, twice and then kissing you hard.

“Yeah, let’s go to mine,” you offered, getting yourself presentable before ordering a ride share on your phone.

“You’re not drunk are you?” You half teased, bumping shoulders with him as he tucked himself back into place and smoothed out his wild curls. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“It takes a hell of a lot to get me drunk,” he chuckled. “But you can still take advantage of me.” He winked.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

In the back seat of the car, Marc seemed to keep his distance, but you caught him looking at you several times until you finally asked, “What is it?”

“Nothing, I just…I didn’t think you would notice me in a hundred years.”

Sliding across the seat to be close to him, you laid your head on his shoulder, your heart melting. “I noticed.”

Marc took your hand and helped you out of the car, following your lead inside and into the elevator. As the doors closed, he laced his fingers through yours, and crowded close to you until your back hit the wall. Then he covered your mouth with his, reigniting the passion discovered at the office party. Only now you were alone and his restraint was gone.

By the time the elevator doors dinged open, you had to tear your mouth from his to lead him to your apartment door. You barely made it inside before he was on you again.

The thought flitted through the back of your mind that you should offer him a drink, put on some music or something, but you dismissed it, remembering he was here to sleep with you. It’s clearly what he wanted when he stopped things from going too far at the office copy room.

If this was going to be a one time thing, you decided to switch your brain off and enjoy it. This notion was made easier as he spread his palm over your inner thigh and squeezed, fingers climbing higher as he kissed you endlessly.

“Is this okay?” He breathed, stopping himself long enough to make sure the two of you were on the same page.

“Yeah, please,” you panted, gripping his bicep, guiding him closer to where you wanted him. “Touch me.”

And he did, right up against your front door, until your legs shook and gave out.

Then he laid you on the couch, spread you wide and cleaned you up with his tongue. His fingers were tender, tracing the shape of your leg, up and down, but his mouth ravenously devoured you until he pulled sounds from you that you knew were brand new. Deep moans, little whimpering shrieks of ecstasy that made him smile against your tender parts and keep going. And going.

“Can I keep going?” He gasped, reading your thoughts while unbuckling his pants.

You nodded dumbly, so blissed out you could hardly move. “Condoms…in my drawer…by my bed.”

“Hey,” he brushed his fingers over your cheek. “Too much? We can stop.”

“No, it’s good,” you sighed, reaching for him to bring him back closer. “It’s so good, Marc.”

You helped him finish undressing, happy to find he had his own protection with him.

When he pushed his way inside you, stretching you open, you realized you definitely wanted this to be more than a one time thing. Maybe he would stay the night. Maybe you could do this some more, during the night, in the morning. And perhaps you could have breakfast together. Anything to savor this feeling again and again.

After you finished and cleaned up a little, you offered him a drink or some tea or coffee. To your delight, he accepted, and the two of you talked for another two hours at your tiny kitchen table.

You talked about your family and a little about your ex, what movies and books and music you liked.

“Is it weird working for your ex's company?” He asked you.

“Sometimes,” you admitted, “but I moved departments so we didn’t have to interact so much. What about you?”

“What’s it like to work for your ex, you mean?” He teased, but quickly admitted, to your great surprise, that he had been married before.

“She was wonderful, it was completely my fault,” he shocked you by confessing.

And somehow, with this guy you just got to know and slept with, the two of you had the most candid conversation about exes, like ever. He told you that he wasn’t able to be what his ex needed. And the two of you talked long enough that you felt comfortable enough to ask, “Do you still love her?”

Scrubbing a hand over his chin, he nodded thoughtfully. “Not in the way you think. Not in a way that would lead to anything. She’s a good person and I’ll always love her, but I’m not in love with her.”

A comfortable silence fell over you both as you quietly sipped your drinks. "Is this a weird 'first night together' conversation?" You asked.

"I don't know, do you feel weird? Because I don't."

"No, actually," you admitted, hands wrapped around your mug. Everything about this moment felt comfortable. Right.

"Good." His eyebrows shot up in a cute and strangely sexy way. Polishing off his second cup of coffee, he stood, carrying his cup to your sink. "I better get going, it's late."

Well, that answered the question as to whether he would stay overnight, and for breakfast.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

That was the first of many nights with Marc. Many steamy, satisfying, sleepless nights, filled with late nights talking and the best sex of your life.

He was easy to talk to, in a way. In other ways, he was a fortress. There were times, while talking, in each other's arms, that his eyes, warm and alive, would go suddenly cold. His lips would pull into a thin line. With one shake of his head, a conversation would come to an abrupt end.

You tried not to take it personally. After all, you were still getting to know one another. Maybe he didn't want to talk about his childhood, or his family. He'd mentioned his dad only once.

Sometimes he didn't seem quite himself. He was more pensive, and spoke under his breath in Spanish. But you really liked him and were determined to give it some time.

One thing that was starting to bug you was how he never stayed the night. And on rare occasions when you ended up at his place, he would always order you a ride share or make sure you got safely home before you ever got sleepy.

Until tonight.

After cuddling on the couch and watching a movie, you slumped over on Marc's lap and fell asleep. You dreamed of waking up in bed, in his arms, sunlight streaming over his smooth, dark skin and chocolate curls. He pulled you close, smiling against your lips and kissed you sweetly. You smelled coffee brewing and breakfast cooking.

That’s how you knew it was a dream, and what brought you back to consciousness. Nothing like that had ever happened between you, not in the few months you'd been together.

When you woke up, you were facing Marc’s tummy. The TV was still on and Marc seemed to be watching it, his fingers gently raking up and down your arm.

You mumbled against his stomach, nuzzling its softness, feeling so content until you heard him groan.

“Marc?” You rasped, turning your eyes up to meet his.

The corner of his mouth curled gently as he reached to caress your cheek. “Hey.”

Climbing up to a sitting position, you smoothed your clothes. “I fell asleep, sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He shook his head, holding onto your arms to steady you. “Come here.” He used his hold on you to pull you across his lap.

Gratefully melting into his embrace, you wrapped your arms around his neck, touching your forehead to his. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep, I promise.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Easing back, his gaze locked with yours, eyes darkening as he shifted underneath you. He swallowed hard, trying to figure out what to do next.

“I know, it’s just…you don’t like me to stay overnight. I wasn’t trying to step over your boundaries or anything, I promise - "

Marc silenced your ramblings with a soft kiss. “It’s okay,” he breathed against your lips.

He'd watched you sleeping for forever, mind racing with thoughts of how peaceful you seemed, his contentment and longing mingling over how you could feel safe with him. Yet he couldn't help but worry, keeping vigil over his own exhaustion, in case he were to doze. That was a mistake he couldn't afford to make. Not at this point in your relationship.

Still, as you dreamed, your soft sighs taunted him, warm breath seeping through the thin cotton of his t-shirt as you rubbed your cheek against the top of his thigh. At least his desire would keep him awake.

You buried your face in his neck, relief washing over you that he wasn't upset that you fell asleep.

"It's all right," he whispered, nuzzling the spot behind your ear. “I’ll make sure you get home okay.”

And there it was - the dagger in your heart. You tried so hard to respect Marc’s line in the sand. You shared so much together - dates, long talks, passion-filled nights, TV binging. You even understood that it might be too soon for him to open up to you fully, about his past, or whatever else he tended to clam up about.

If you truly cared about him, you should be understanding, that’s what you kept telling yourself over and over, but it was really starting to hurt that he wanted to usher you out into the night at 2 A.M. Simultaneously, you felt it was wrong of you to hold it against him. And that war in your mind and heart was beginning to bubble up to the surface.

You hid your tears behind a big, fake yawn, making a show of stretching your arms and rubbing your eyes before climbing off the couch.

Marc stood, following you closely, noticing the sudden glistening redness in your typically serene eyes. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah,” you shrugged him off gently. “Just tired. Where’s my phone? I’ll get a car.”

Slowly, he gathered your phone off the coffee table and handed it over. His lips parted, dark eyebrows shifting in what appeared to be concern, but ultimately, he said nothing. His mouth drew into a firm line as a worried wrinkle appeared between his eyes.

“I…I can get you a ride,” he finally uttered, witnessing you furiously swipe through a rideshare app.

“It’s fine, almost done,” you choked out, trying so hard not to cry and hating yourself for what your brain was doing to you right now.

“I’ll go with you,” he softly offered, “and get a ride back. I want to make sure you’re okay.”

You finished up with your phone and stashed it in your back pocket. “I'll be okay. You should stay here and get to sleep or…whatever it is you do all night.” You winced as soon as the words left your mouth. Too clingy. Wayyyy too clingy. Or accusing, maybe?

“I’m sorry,” you offered before Marc could ever come up with anything to say. “I didn’t mean that how it sounded. I’m just tired. I…I gotta use the restroom.” You fled the living room and barely made it inside the bathroom in time for tears to flood your eyes. You had to get a handle on this. You felt ridiculous.

Obviously, this topic warranted a conversation, but later, when the two of you were rested and on an even playing field, so to speak.

Swiping repeatedly at your eyes, you finally used the restroom and washed up, trying to hide their redness and the tear tracks on your cheeks. Marc would see right through it though.

Just then, he knocked on the bathroom door. “Sweetheart…you all right? Your phone got a notification. I think your ride might be here.”

“Okay, coming,” you mumbled, trying one more time to splash the tears from your face and eyes. It wasn’t working. Oh well.

Yanking open the door, you attempted to dart past your boyfriend, but he clearly saw you were upset.

He wanted to go to you, to hold you, to beg you to stay, but he couldn’t. It was better for both of you that you leave mad. Because he couldn’t explain. You couldn’t stay because he was getting sleepy. It took everything in his power to stay awake while you slept comfortably across his lap. Nothing had ever felt so right in his life. The whole time he listened to your soft breath, felt you so safe and trusting in his arms, all he wanted was to lie down beside you and give into his exhaustion. Either that or kiss you awake and bury himself inside you.

He could do one but not the other. Because when he woke up, he would probably be gone. He wouldn’t be himself and he couldn’t do that to you. Not until he figured out some way to tell you what was wrong with him. That he wasn't like everyone else.

Marc cursed himself as you tucked yourself into the car and were driven off into the night.

He should have stopped you. He should have done something.

But this bought him time. Time to figure out how to somehow let you in, or let you go.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

The next day, when you passed through security at work, you tried to act normal, smiling at your boyfriend and wishing him good morning. He seemed surprised, but relieved to see your smile. You couldn’t stay mad at him, especially not when he didn’t know why. And especially not with how handsome he looked in his uniform. If only you had five minutes to drag him to your office by his tie. 

‘You look amazing today.’ He texted you once you made it up to your office.

‘Don’t lie to me, Spector. I am running on maybe 3 hours of sleep. But you are sweet to say so xoxo’

‘You slept almost 2 hours on my lap, so that’s 5 hours. That must be why you look so good.’

‘Shit, I slept for 2 hours? I’m really sorry. Embarrassing.’

‘You don’t have to be sorry. I told you that.’

You weren’t sure what to say to that. But he texted back before you could decide what to say.

‘Do you still want to come over tonight?’

You did. You really did, but it was going to hurt again when he took you to heaven, finished inside you and then ushered you out the door. Why couldn’t you just accept where he was with all this?

You had to talk to him. It wasn’t fair to be upset and keep it from him.

‘I always want to see you,’ you typed back. ‘I’ll leave earlier so I won’t fall asleep again.’

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Dinner was delicious and Marc was in a flirty mood. You barely finished dessert before he was all over you, not that you were complaining. The thought flitted across the back of your mind that you should talk to him, but you forgot to care once he kissed a trail down your body and used his lips and tongue to send you to heaven.

The two of you spent the evening in the dark, tangled in his sheets. His scent lingered here in his bed, seducing you while taunting you at the same time. You could find endless pleasure here, but it would always end. You would always have to leave.

He made you come so many times that you forgot to care for a long while, so blissed out that you accidentally drifted into exhausted slumber. Naked, in his arms, in his bed.

This time, when you woke in the night, you wanted to close your eyes and pretend to still be asleep so badly, wishing to remain in this moment a little longer before you either had to get a ride home or have an uncomfortable conversation about how it was starting to hurt your feelings.

Maybe Marc was asleep. Maybe you could pretend a while longer.

"You awake?" His voice rumbled deeply in his chest.

"Yeah...sorry. You wore me out. Didn't mean to fall asleep though."

"It's okay."

Untangling yourself from his arms, you sat up on the edge of the bed, determined to keep your composure. "I'll get a ride home."

Marc sat up right along with you, pressing his bare chest to your back and laying a soft kiss on your neck. "You can stay, baby. It's almost 3:00."

Relief washed over you like a powerful wave, nearly knocking you over. And it might have, if Marc's body wasn't pressed up against you so firmly.

"Are you sure?" You whispered, holding your breath, awaiting his answer.

"Yeah," he murmured, kissing your cheek. Wrapping his arms around you, he coaxed you back down to bed, pulling you half on top of his chest. "I don't want to let go of you."

Heart racing, you chanced the big question. "I don't want that either. I want to stay right here with you. But…”

“What?”

“But you don't like to spend the night together...right?"

He stiffened, letting out a long sigh. "I do want to. Believe me. But...see, the thing is...I…I actually have another job."

After a few silent moments of shock, you actually laughed. "Another job? In the middle of the night? Doing what?"

"Well, I...I watch over people."

"So like, after hours security work?"

"Basically yeah."

"Oh my god, why didn't you just say so?" Now wide awake, you propped up on your elbow so you could look down into his moonlit eyes. "I was starting to think I was your dirty secret or something."

"What?" He chuckled, which made your heart lighten and stop thundering. "You're my dirty something, but I don't think our relationship is a secret. Everyone at work knows, right?"

You nodded, smiling to yourself. Marc could be so literal. After agreeing with him, you apologized.

"What are you sorry for?" He softly asked, tracing circles on your lower back.

"For not talking to you sooner, about spending the night. I guess I didn't realize it was bothering me so much until I fell asleep here."

“Baby,” he whispered, pulling you against the solid warmth of his body. Although he was the one comforting you, he seemed to slightly tremble under your touch, his heart thundering in his chest so hard you could feel it. “I-I’m sorry. It’s my fault.”

“No, Marc, you didn’t do anything wrong. I know you don’t want me to stay - "

“I want you to stay,” he said firmly. "I just have to leave early. Probably while you're still asleep."

"Are you sure?" You asked him. "I don't want to do anything you're not ready for."

"I'm not ready to lose you, or even upset you," he told you with conviction.

His confession seemed to appease you for now. And he did have a second job, in a sense. No one paid him to do it, but he did watch over people. His daytime security job paid the bills. He would usually have come home and sleep as long as he could until he went out on patrol to watch over the travelers of the night, or he had a date with you.

Mercifully, the ancient god he served left him alone some nights, so he was able to get a little more sleep after he left your place, or you left his. But sometimes he patrolled right up until he had to come back home and get ready for his day job.

As he held you close, soothing you back to sleep, Marc tried to decide how much he wanted to tell you. What would you think if you found out he was Moon Knight?

That would be hard enough to tell you, but he had to keep this sleep thing under control. There was no telling what could happen if you woke up to...not him. And it would happen soon. He was losing control, feeling so exhausted, fronting all the time. You would find out one way or another.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Marc knew this would happen.

The night you spent together more than appeased you, but it created a problem. Or perhaps an opportunity. Once you spent the night together, Marc knew you would want to do it again. He wanted it too, honestly. The feel of you in his arms - your warm breath against his throat - he wanted more. He wanted to let you in.

But he’d never done anything like this before. Very few people knew he was Moon Knight and fewer still knew he was…the way he was. His secrets ruined his marriage, and had kept him single in the years since. He’d let this thing with you go on too long to consider it a fling. He wanted to be with you. Sometimes you were all he could think about.

He didn’t want to lose you.

He simply had no idea how to keep you.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

In a way, you felt closer to Marc than ever before, but there was something distant in his eyes. You worried that maybe you were pushing things too far now that you were spending the night together, or maybe he simply wasn’t getting enough sleep.

So you asked him over for dinner to talk about it. And even if he got handsy, you were determined to really talk and sort some things out. You loved him, he was worth it.

After dinner, you cozied up on your couch, listening to music, when you finally admitted you were worried about him.

“Why are you worried?” He asked you, slightly fearing the answer. What had you figured out?

“I care about you, so much,” you told him with a tender smile. “You know that, right?”

“I care about you too,” he softly returned.

‘You’ve been a little different lately,” you carefully stated, covering his hand with yours. “I’m hoping you’re getting enough sleep, with your two jobs.”

You weren’t wrong. He was definitely burning the candle at both ends. He could feel his grip on everything slipping. Had Steven met you at some point he didn't remember?

“So, I know I should have talked to you first, but…I asked for you to get a raise.” Chewing on your bottom lip, you winced, waiting for his reaction.

Marc blinked at you so openly, so sweetly, you hoped your plan would work. “You got me a raise?”

“Yeah."

He shook his head in wonder. "You talked to your ex about giving me a raise?"

"Yes," you nervously laughed. "So, you know, just in case you can quit your second job. But only if you want to. I mean, maybe you like it, I don’t know. I just…wanted to help, if I could.” You gestured animatedly with your hands as you explained.

“Thank you. No one’s ever…no one’s done anything like that for me before.”

“Oh good, you’re not mad,” you laughed out, touching his cheek.

“No, I'm not mad.” Blowing air out of his lips, he nodded, as if trying to convince himself of something. “But I have to tell you something too. A few things actually.”

“Okay,” you whispered, rubbing your hand up on and down his forearm soothingly.

“I…I don’t want to lose you,” he carefully admitted, clearing his throat. “But if I tell you this…it will probably change the way you feel about me.”

You swallowed, wondering if this was it. What he’d been keeping from you about his past or maybe a secret family or something. There had to be a catch. He was almost too perfect.

He stared at you, lip trembling as a hint moisture gathered in his warm brown eyes. “I-I’ve never done this before, I don’t really know how…”

“I’m here,” you assured him, holding his hand. “It’s okay, take your time.”

He nodded again, gaze dropping to his lap. “I’m not who you think. I mean, I am, but…I’m not alone.”

“Not alone?” You questioned, swallowing thickly. “You mean, like…you’re married or - "

“No,” he quickly assured you, placing his palm over his chest. “I mean in here. I’m not just me in here. I’m…I…sometimes I’m not here. I’m not me. Sometimes, Steven is here. Instead of me.” He exhaled loudly, shoulders slumping as if he’d just run up three flights of stairs.

Stroking his hand gently, you tried to understand. “Steven? Who is Steven?”

“He’s part of me. In here.” Marc’s eyes found yours. “He’s been with me since I was a kid. And sometimes, after I fall asleep, it's Steven who wakes up and not me.”

It sounded like Marc was trying to tell you about another part of himself, like another personality. Your mind turned over the thought, realizing that “personality” sounded wrong. Like…an outdated term. What was the thing that used to be called…multiple personalities? You’d seen it on TV and movies a dozen times at least. But now it was called something else.

“Marc, are you - I’m not trying to offend you, I promise. But are you talking about, um, it's like - dissociative identity disorder? Like, it used to be called multiple personalities? Is that what you’re saying about Steven?”

“Yes,” he looked so relieved to be finally making sense. “Yeah, like that, I guess. I don’t know for sure. I haven’t been to the doctor in a long time.”

His eyes went round and his bottom lip formed an almost precious pout. "I'm not ready to talk about all that. I don't want to talk about...the doctors." His head dropped and he started to turn away from you. "Please don't ask me."

You gave him a moment, not really knowing what to say. But you could tell for certain that he was trying. He was giving you a part of himself to know. To accept.

"I don't know what to say," you softly admitted your thought, giving him some space, "except that what you're telling me definitely doesn't change the way I feel about you."

Your admission brought his eyes back to yours. One tear dropped onto his cheek as he sucked in a breath. "It doesn't?"

"No, I mean, I have like a ton of questions, but just because you open up to me doesn't mean I'm going to change my mind about how I feel, Marc. I love..." Pressing your lips together, you averted your eyes, mentally scolding yourself.

Too fast, too fast...

"S-sorry," you offered meekly. "I just mean that..." You chewed on your lip helplessly.

"Don't say it yet," Marc interjected, but his voice was tender and his eyes soft and filled with something real and accepting. "Not til you know who I am. Maybe...you know, maybe after you meet Steven, or...there's just so much more I have to say - "

You silenced him with an urgent kiss, gently grasping his face in your hands. "We have time," you whispered, brushing a stray curl out of his eyes. "I can wait, if you aren't ready."

He nodded quickly, letting out a sigh of relief, eyes shining with adoration. "I'm ready, for some of it, anyway. You can ask me questions if you want. Just...not about the doctors. Not that. But about Steven or, just anything."

"Okay," you agreed, pulling one leg underneath you and getting more comfortable. "Does Steven know who I am?"

"He knows I'm with someone, yeah."

"Have I met him?"

Marc shrugged. "I don't think so. But you would know better than me. Have I talked in a British accent, or rambled about ancient Egypt? Or dressed really different?"

"Oh my god," you gasped, "are those Steven's shirts in the back of the closet? The ones with all the prints?"

"Those would be the ones," Marc laughed, his countenance brightening. "Wait, when were you in my closet?"

"You told me to get a hoodie when I was cold last week."

The two of you shared a laugh, hands reaching for each other, relief flowing between you.

"Is this why you didn't want to stay with me all night? In case you fell asleep and Steven woke up with me? Oh shit, would I scare him?"

"I doubt it," Marc chuckled. “He would love to meet you, I bet.”

"Wait...do you really have a second job? Or was that just the story you were running with until you were ready to tell me this?" Your eyes narrowed curiously.

Marc cleared his throat. "Yeah, about that..."

END

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

*Thank you to @missdictatorme for this line specifically and thank you to Dolli and other moots for listening to me

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[crowsofdarkness]

Soldat: Chapter One

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader. Slight Steve Rogers x Female Agent! Reader

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, kidnapping, violence.

Summary: Agent Y/N has worked alongside Steve Rogers at SHIELD for some time all while keeping a dark secret from everyone. Until one day that darkness faces her head on and she's forced to make a choice. Continue fighting along side Captain America? Or find her home once again with Soldat?

Authors Note: This was originally published on my old blog as a trilogy so I will be in the slow process of adding it to this blog. This is the first of the trilogy and will take place during The Winter Soldier. If anyone is interested in being tagged, let me know!

A soft breeze came through the curtains in my living room as my eyes scanned the same sentence in the book that was placed in my lap. The sentence that I had reread four times now. Closing the book with a groan, I set it on the other end of the couch and grabbed my phone from the coffee table in front of me. 

No new messages. 

I pocketed my phone while pulling my bottom lip between my teeth. Worry etched in my bones as I realized that I hadn’t heard from Steve in over 48 hours. He never went that long without sending some kind of message back to me. It was supposed to be a simple “save the hostages from a ship in the middle of the ocean. It’ll take a day tops.” Steve words. So here I was, two days later wondering what the hell went wrong. 

“Stupid ankle,” I cursed my sprained ankle as it was the reason I couldn’t go on the current mission. 

I had tweaked it a few weeks back and Steve wanted to make sure it was 100% before going back in the field. No matter how hard I tried to convince him I was fine, Steve could tell in the small limp that I was lying. 

I’d been on Team Captain America for almost a year now, Nick recruiting me because of my background. Three years on New York Swat and almost five as a secret agent for the FBI. There was more to my past, which helped mold me into the agent I was today but that was a part of my life that I kept hidden from everyone, including Steve. There was a time in my life where I was at my lowest and darkest; however, as much as that moment in my life caused me many emotional and permanent scars, I don’t think I would be where I was today. 

My finger ran over a small scar on my wrist as I thought back to that time, years ago, and my skin quivered as those memories came back. A dark, cold room with only one bed and the looming fear of when the next time would be when I would see him; would it also be the last time? Would my end be near?

“Christ, I haven’t thought of him in years.” I shuttered, pushing those thoughts away and tried to think of Steve.

In the year that I had been working side by side with him, Steve and I had become incredibly close. Soft touches, hushed conversions just between the two of us, and stares that never went unnoticed. We weren’t official, afraid of it getting in the way of work so we would never make it past first base; hell we never even made it close to first base.

Tired eyes read the clock that hung above the fireplace and a soft sigh left my lips. Calling him would be a waste of time because I knew he never kept his phone on him while on the field, it always stayed on the jet, so I decided to send him a text. 

I should have figured it would take you longer than a day without me.-Y/N. 

I didn’t even have a chance to set my phone down because a few seconds later it was buzzing and Steve’s face appeared on my screen, indicating he was face timing me. 

“Thank god I actually look somewhat decent,” I muttered before hitting the green button, accepting the call. 

Steve’s bright smile warmed my heart as I took in his appearance. Soot covered his forehead and chin, his typically styled hair was a mess, almost falling in his eyes as those tired blue eyes stared at me. 

“Hi,” I breathed. 

“Hey yourself. What time is it there?” Steve questioned. 

I looked at the clock before my gaze rested back on Steve. “Just past 6 in the morning. How’d the mission go?” 

Steve leaned back in the chair of the jet and ran a hand over his face, unbeknownst to him smearing the soot over his face. I suppressed a giggle, not wanting to let him know. 

“You’re cleared to go back on duty. Starting three days ago.” 

“I told you! We could have been finished days ago and you wouldn’t have needed me to water your plants.” I joked.

Steve shot up. “You have been watering them, right?” 

The seriousness in his voice made me roll my eyes. 

“Oh my god, grandpa. Yes, I did water your plants. You know, I forget that you’re 95 years old then you act like that and suddenly it all comes back.” I said with a small smile. 

“You love me,” Steve gave me a smug smile. 

My heart flipped. You have no idea. 

“So when are you going to be back?” I changed the subject. 

“The jet is landing at SHIELD in a few hours. I have to do a few errands but then I’m all yours,” the softness in his smile warmed my heart. 

“The usual?” I asked. 

“I’ve called in the pizza. It should be ready to go by seven.” 

“I’ll bring the beers then,” I smiled 

Every time we complete a mission, Steve and I would meet at his place for pizza and beers. It had been our tradition for the past year, no one else from the team joining. 

Just us. 

Steve’s lips moved as he was about to say something but a certain redhead appeared from behind him, coming into view. 

“NAT!” I yelled, “I miss you!” 

Her smile mirrored my own. 

“You are forbidden from ever taking leave again. This one almost forgot his shield.” Natasha pointed at Steve. 

“I did not!” He defended. 

“Oh Stevie, what would you do without me?” I cooed and noticed his cheeks burned red. 

We stared at each other for a few seconds and if feeling some type of tension between us, Nat shook her head before ruffling Steve’s hair. 

“You’ve got something on your face.” 

Steve looked closer into his phone and I swore, his cheeks were a deep crimson now. 

“You let me talk to you like this the entire time?” Steve questioned, quietly thanking Nat who gave him a towel. 

I shrugged. “I thought it was a cute look.” 

“Maybe if you stopped giving Y/N bedroom eyes, you would have noticed how dirty you were,” Natasha teased. 

“Nat!” I scoffed, feeling some warmth spread to my stomach. 

“What?” She shrugged, “Someone has to call him out."

Shaking my head with a laugh, I gave them a small wave goodbye and told Steve I would see him later. 

I ended the phone call with a sigh and felt excitement spread through my veins as the thought of being alone with Steve kept creeping in the back of my mind. 

“Where the hell are you Rogers,” I grumbled as I checked my phone for the fifth time since arriving at his apartment twenty minutes ago. 

I had called and texted him wondering when he would be home but was met with silence. My fingers slid over his door frame before peaking under the doormat hoping to find a spare key but nothing. 

“You’re damn lucky you’re cute,” I cursed when I checked my phone yet again. 

“Talking to yourself?” 

Spinning on my heels towards the voice, my heart leaped when I saw Steve ascend the staircase, wearing the brown leather jacket that looked so good on him. He had the box of pizza in one hand and was messing with his keys in the other.

“I left my spare key at home. You should really leave another one somewhere.” I noted. 

“I do,” he nodded towards his neighbor across the hall, “Kate has one.” 

“Oh,” I sighed. 

As if the Gods’ wanted to torture me more with the thought of Steve’s neighbor across the hall, she came out from her apartment. Adjusting the laundry basket on her hip, she smiled towards Steve. 

Jealous eyes watched as they chatted, Steve flirting almost effortlessly with her. She giggled at a lame joke he told and I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest. My shoulders slouched in anger when Steve invited her over to join us. 

“I don’t want to impose,” she looked between Steve and I. 

Steve quickly shook his head. “No, we’re just friends.” 

My heart dropped to my stomach. “Yeah, friends.” 

“Maybe next time. I’ve got a load in the wash.” 

Steve agreed the next time and I had to turn away as he hugged Kate. 

“You could have been a little nicer to her,” Steve asked as he leaned against his door. 

“I’ve been waiting almost a half hour for you. I’m tired and hungry so sorry I didn’t feel like being friendly,” I snapped but immediately apologized when I saw the hurt flash across his face. 

“It’s been a really long day,” I sighed while pinching my eyes shut. 

“Hey, it’s alright.” Steve pulled me into his chest and left a soft kiss to the top of my head. “I’m sorry I’m late. I was visiting a friend at the V.A center.” 

My brows rose. “The V.A center?” 

Steve nodded. “Yeah, Sam. I met him a few days ago. He’s nice, I can set you up with him if you want?” 

“No thanks,” I scrunch my face, “I can find a guy by myself.” 

“How’s that working out for you?” Steve joked. 

Scoffing, I gave him a slight push and I nodded towards the door. “My pizza is getting cold.” 

He laughed but his body froze leaning an ear against the door. 

“What?” I questioned. 

“My record player is on.” Steve glanced over to me. 

I leaned my ear against the door but shook my head, “I don’t hear anything.”

“You don’t have super soldier hearing,” Steve teased. “Did you leave it on?”

“I swear I turned it off when I left the other day.” I promised. 

Getting into Captain America mode, Steve shielded me as he slowly unlocked the door, pushing it open. I slipped my knife out of my boot as I followed close behind. The music vibrated off the walls as Steve grabbed his shield from its place on the wall. The knife flipped in my fingers with ease as we reached the living room and saw the slouched figure sitting in the chair. 

Nick Furry.

“I don’t remember giving you a key,” Steve sighed while leaning against the wall.

“Did you really think I would need one?,” Nick defended while sitting up, “My wife kicked me out.”

“I didn’t know you were married,” I admitted. 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Nick admitted.

“I know, Nick. That’s the problem,” Steve declared while turning on the light.

Goosebumps pricked my skin when I took in Nick’s appearance. He had a giant gash to the side of his head and blood was dripping down onto Steve’s chair. I wanted to ask what happened but he held up a finger to silence me while he turned off the light. Nick typed a message into his phone before showing us. 

Ears everywhere.

Steve and I shared a look before our eyes glanced around the apartment. Steve tensed up next to me, the anger of being watched rose from within and he cursed under his breath. All of his private moments suddenly weren’t so private anymore. 

“I’m sorry to do this but I had no other place to crash,” Nick showed us a new message on his phone. 

Shield Compromised.

“What the fuck,” I cursed. 

“Who else knows about your wife?” Steve continued to play along, in case it was true that his apartment was bugged. 

Nick stood with a groan and limped over to us, clutching his side. “Just my friends.”

Just us. The new message on his phone read. 

Steve scoffed. “Is that what we are, Nick?” 

“Steve,” I warned, “Now isn’t the time for whatever beef you have with him.” 

“That’s up to you,” Nick admitted. 

The floor beneath our feet shook as a scream erupted from my throat when the wall behind Nick exploded in gunfire. Steve grabbed my waist and pulled me into his chest as we watched in horror as Nick’s limp body fell to the ground. 

“What the fuck?!” I yelled. 

“Get away from the window!” Steve demanded, pulling Nick’s body in the hallway with us. 

He went to look out the window to see if he was able to see the shooter but Nick grasped his arm stopping him. 

He opened his hand and a hard drive sparkled from the light outside. 

“Don’t. Trust. Anyone.” Nick sputtered before passing out. 

“Steve, what the hell is going on?” My voice quivered with fear. 

Before Steve could answer, his front door busted open and Kate walked in, gun armed and aimed. 

“Captain Rogers, I’m Agent 13, Shield Special Service.” Kate said, walking further into Steve’s apartment. 

“Kate? What the hell are you doing here?” I questioned. 

“I’ve been assigned to protect Steve,” She defended. 

“On whose order?” Steve snapped. 

Kate set her gun down before nodding towards Nick. “His.” 

Steve and I shared a look and giving him a slight nod, I turned my attention towards Kate. “You should call it in, Agent.”

“Foxtrot is down and unresponsive. I need EMT’S.” Kate ignored me as she talked into the radio. 

“Do we have a twenty on the shooter?”

Steve peaked around the corner and grabbed my hand, pulling me with him. “Tell them we’re in pursuit.” 

Not asking any questions, I let Steve wrap his arm around my waist as we ran through the window, literally, and felt the ground vanish beneath our feet. Glass shattered around us as we landed hard on the floor of the building across the street. 

“Ow, that’s gonna leave a mark,” I groaned, rising to my feet taking off in a chase after the shooter.

Steve was just a few paces ahead of me while the shooter was on the roof above us, his heavy footsteps echoing through the empty offices. Steve busted through doors and glass windows, making it easier for me to keep up with him.

“There has to be a staircase to the roof somewhere!” I yelled before I watched through the window in front of us as the shooter jumped down onto the roof of the building in front.

“We’re going through the window, aren't we?” I semi whined. 

“Yup!” 

Suddenly, Steve barreled his way through the window rolling onto his knees and threw his shield at the shooter. The broken glass crunched beneath my boots as I came to a sudden halt when my eyes landed on the man who had caught Captain America’s shield mid throw. 

Long brown locks. 

Blue eyes. 

A metal arm. 

My mouth ran dry while my hands shook, unable to move out of the way as the shield came flying back towards me. Ears rang in silence as the blood drained from my face, memories of that same metal arm slamming into me like a brick wall. The same man that I thought of earlier for the first time in years was standing right in front of me, in the flesh. 

“Y/N!” 

Steve’s voice brought me back as I fell to the ground with his body on mine. With the shield gripped tight in one hand, his other gently cupped my cheek. Steve pulled my face to look into his eyes; however, I couldn’t focus. I ignored the feeling that took over my body when Steve pressed his hips into mine, unknowingly, and licked my dry lips. 

My past life had just barreled into me; a private part of my life that absolutely no one knew about and suddenly, I was very terrified of them finding out. 

[jjk-expansion]

The Five Times He Almost Kissed You...The One Time He Did || Kento Nanami

Summary: The five times where Nanami almost kissed you, and the one time he finally decided to take a chance.

Warnings: 18+, mild adult content, swearing.

Authors Note: I had so much fun writing this one, and I hope you enjoy. I have only just started watching the anime, so please forgive me if I get anything wrong. Gif by @erensjwife

One…

The first time Gojo had introduced the two of you was a day after Yuji Itadori’s miraculous resurrection. You were only a few years younger than himself, and perhaps a little older than a first year Jujutsu sorcerer should be, but Gojo had vouched for you, claiming that you had immense potential in your abilities, though they were still developing and extremely rare.

All Nanami knew, was that you could use your cursed energy to create protective barriers around yourself and others, and that your reverse cursed technique somehow came naturally to you, you could heal any wound or injury on yourself and others. It was an incredible technique no doubt, but from what he had heard from his colleague, the healing aspect of your technique was very physically demanding. So he made a silent promise to himself, should the two of you work together in the future, that he would be careful not to sustain any injuries that required your attention.

However, that was not to be the case.

Leaning back against the white tile, Nanami sighed heavily. The wound in his side was throbbing painfully, the bleeding refusing to stop no matter how many pieces of paper towel he held to it to stop the blood flow. The amount of blood from the wound had eased slightly, but not enough for him to be happy with his current state.

He had sent you a text twenty minutes ago to meet him here, and he silently hoped that you had seen his message and that you were on your way. He shouldn’t have left you alone on that cinema rooftop with those two human monsters to go after that cursed human spirit, he also shouldn’t have left himself open to the spirit’s attacks. That couldn’t be helped now though, and so all he could do was wait, and hope that he wouldn’t eventually bleed out.

There was a faint knock on the bathroom door, his eyes glaring towards the door as his entire body tensed in anticipation.

“Nanami? It’s me…are you in there?”

The sound of your voice caused his body to relax, a sense of relief washing over him as he cleared his throat. “I’m alone, you can come in Y/n” he called out to you, adjusting his position against the wall. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror to his right, from the corner of his eye he could see that he was slightly pale, thanks to the blood loss. His hair was in slight disarray, and his favourite blue shirt was stained a deep purple. He cursed under his breath as the door opened, his gaze returning to your entering form…and widening in complete shock.

You were covered in small cuts and bruises, your (eye/colour) eyes meeting his own brown hues as an awkward yet kind smile formed on your lips. Your (hair/colour) hair was a complete mess, stray strands framing your face at all sorts of odd angles. You closed the door behind you and released a huff, blowing upwards to remove some of the strands of hair from your vision as you approached. He noticed in his stupor that parts of your uniform had been ripped, though they were easily reparable, they had no doubt been made by cuts that pierced your skin.

Nanami didn’t know what to say. He watched as you now stood before him, your eyes widening at the amount of blood-stained paper towels there were strewn about the basin. You met his gaze with a look of concern on your features, a sincere look on your eyes as folded your arms over your chest “What happened? Are you alright?”.

Nanami grimaced, the throbbing in his side annoying, and the newfound heat on his cheeks infuriating “I-I’m fine. I was careless, it won’t happen again.”

He watched as you sighed heavily, your eyes falling downward to where he desperately clutched at his side. You hummed lowly, extending your hands and gently prying his away from the wound so you could get a better look at it. You could see through the fabric of his shirt that this was no mere flesh wound, the cut ran deep, no wonder there was so much blood everywhere.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to-“

“Shh…” you replied quickly, “I’m trying to concentrate…”

Nanami watched you intently, the blue hue of cursed energy swirling around your hands has you gently held them one over the other and pressed your hands firmly over the wound. Nanami hissed, feeling the cursed energy surge through him like the feeling of pins and needles which faded to a feeling of numbness, and it seemed like almost instantly that feeling faded.

Nanami turned his gaze back towards the mirror, lifting his shirt high enough to examine the fading blue glow where your hands had been when a shocked gasp left his lips. There was nothing there, almost as if he hadn’t been injured at all. There was no scar, no remanent of the wound that he had sustained. It was incredible. That was when he noticed your reflection swaying in the mirror.

His eyes widened as his gaze quickly returned to your form. Your skin was pale, your eyes slightly glaze as you swayed dangerously from side to side. Nanami’s hands gently grasped your shoulders, steadying you in place so that you wouldn’t fall. You were breathing heavily, your eyes squeezed shut as small beads of sweat formed on your forehead. He was growing increasingly worried the more you continued to sway, your left hand darting out to stabilise yourself against the bathroom basin with a low groan.

“Sorry…” You apologised, blinking slowly to try and stop your spinning vision “I’m a little tired after fighting those…things.”

The two of you were so close now, Nanami was practically holding you upright against him. He could feel his heart racing in his chest as your tired eyes lifted to meet his, a lazy smile forming on your lips. He couldn’t think straight, he couldn’t stop the racing of his heart. You were so close that he was worried you might hear it. The sudden urge to kiss you crossed his mind, but he quickly dismissed it with a shake of his head. He had only just met you a few weeks ago, he couldn’t be thinking like this could he?

As a small blush formed on his cheeks, Nanami helped you to stay on your feet whilst he tossed the blood-stained paper towels in one of the bins. He then carefully wrapped his arm around your waist, steadying you against him as the two of you made your way out of the bathroom. He had no idea how thankful you were for this, as he allowed you to lean into his side as you walked out onto the city streets. He was practically shielding you from any prying eyes, and especially in your battered state, it was an incredibly kind gesture.

You found yourself unconsciously leaning closer to him, savouring his warmth and the distant smell of his expensive cologne. Unknown to you, Nanami wrapped his arm around you tighter, determined to protect you no matter the cost.

Two…

Having known you for just over a month now, Nanami learned that you were the type of person who would go out of your way to help anyone, whether that be one of your friends, or a stranger on the street. But this often led to you over-exerting yourself, especially when your other first years Yuji, Megumi, Nobara, Maki, Inumaki and Panda required urgent healing after an assignment went wrong.

You had been returning from an assignment with Nanami when Gojo had asked you to return to Jujutsu High asap, since the exchange event was in a few weeks, and everyone needed to be at the physical peak. Nanami often thought that Gojo took advantage of your cursed technique, especially after he had witnessed it first-hand. He saw how completely wiped out you were after healing his wound, it worried him just thinking about what could happen to you if you healed multiple people at once.

Arriving back at the school, you both jogged towards the infirmary where Gojo had directed you. When you arrived, your eyes widened as your gaze landed on your fellow first years. They had all sustained wounds or injuries of varying degrees of severity, which meant that you would have to expend more cursed energy to heal them completely.

Nanami wasn’t happy.

He turned to Gojo, scolding his colleague quietly enough so you couldn’t hear him while you set to work. “This isn’t a good idea, Satoru, she can’t handle-“

“What do you mean? Of course she can!” Gojo exclaimed, gesturing over to your knelt form as you struggled to heal a small cut on Nobara’s arm. Nanami ‘tsked’ annoyedly, “You’re happy for her to burn herself out!? You and I both know that she struggles with maintaining her cursed energy-“

“You worry too much, Nanami. Y/n is more than capable of-“

“Do you know what happens when she heals to many people at once?” Nanami snapped, his eyes narrowing dangerously on the man before him. When Gojo didn’t answer and instead cast his eyes downward, it only confirmed Nanami’s suspicions. Of course he didn’t know, you had never done this before. Just healing him was enough to deplete your energy, to send you swaying on your feet and feeling incredibly nauseous on the return journey home.

When Nanami returned his attention toward you, his eyes widened in disbelief. You had already made your way to Panda, having already healed Yuji, Nobara, Megumi and Maki…and you seemed fine. Though you were facing away from him, he couldn’t see your face, but you appeared to be holding on for now. As you turned your attention toward Inumaki, Nanami’s eyes watched your hands. They were trembling, badly. He watched as your cursed energy flickered around your hands as you struggled to maintain your focus, the blue flames faintly burning as you placed your hands on Inumaki’s wrist.

You were pushing yourself too much, your cursed energy was fading. But you pressed on, forcing your cursed energy to surge forward and heal the cut on Inumaki’s skin. Just as the scar tissue healed, you released a pained whimper as your cursed energy spluttered violently, dissipating into nothing as you collapsed forward onto your hands and knees. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think clearly. Your body was consumed by a dull ache that continued to increase, an ache that felt like you had overworked your limbs too much, but you knew that it was your cursed energy biting back at your for over-extending your abilities.

You felt a hand place itself on your shoulder, but you couldn’t determine who was speaking through the ringing in your ears. Stars began to dance across your vision as you struggled to focus on your surroundings, your entire body shaking as you felt your limbs give out from underneath you. You collapsed into a pair of strong arms, the sound of distant shouting the last thing that crossed your senses as your vision faded and you were consumed by darkness.

Nanami was furious.

You had collapsed exhausted in his arms, head coming to rest against his chest as he wrapped his arms around your protectively. Panicked shouts erupted around the room, with Yuji and Megumi arguing over what they should do. Nobara, Maki and Panda tried to calm them down, while Inumaki sat in disbelief, staring down at his wrist with an expression of guilt.

With a sharp glare, Nanami turned his attention toward Gojo who stood silently in the corner of the room. With the blindfold over his eyes, his gaze was downcast, and his hands were stuffed into his pockets. Nanami could tell that Gojo was feeling guilty, though he wouldn’t admit it out loud. But Nanami huffed loudly in annoyance, skilfully picking you up in his arms bridal style and carrying you out of the infirmary. He paused by Gojo, glaring at his colleague from the corner of his eye. “I warned you that this would happen, and yet you didn’t listen. Do not, make this mistake again” he spoke darkly, not bothering to wait for Gojo’s reply as he carried you out into the corridor, and made his way towards your quarters.

He'd been there only once before after sustaining another injury, where you had offered to heal it for him and refused to let him leave Jujutsu High until he let you. No matter how many times he declined and said he could take care of this one himself, you were incredibly stubborn, an adorable pout forming on your face as you tried to reason with him. He let you heal him of course, on the promise that you wouldn’t exhaust yourself while doing so. Which you hadn’t, but the memory made him smile unconsciously.

As he reached your bedroom and slid open the door, he looked down at your unconscious form and sighed softly. To some it looked as if you were merely sleeping, but deep down he knew that this was more than that, this was something that had been brought on by your expenditure of your cursed energy, that fact alone made a small sense of worry settle in the pit of his stomach. The repercussions of healing cursed energy were still unknown, given its rarity. Perhaps this was one of them, a way for your body to rest and regain its energy.

Nanami gently placed you under the covers of your bed, tucking you in and making sure you were comfortable. When he was satisfied with his work, he cast one more glance down at your form and sighed longingly. You looked so peaceful, so innocent. Your kindness was rare in this world, especially the one you both shared. The life of a Jujutsu sorcerer was dangerous, you had to be ready for death at any moment. But Nanami found himself craving your company. He valued your presence more over the others, and he looked forward to the times when the two of you would work together.

It was the little things that he noticed about you. Your smile, your laugh, the way you fiddled with your hands whenever you were nervous, or the way you would cheer happily whenever you made progress with your cursed technique. He was drawn to you, though he sometimes wondered if he shouldn’t be. He was a professional sorcerer, and you were technically a first-year student despite your age. But you were both adults, so he supposed to some degree that status didn’t matter.

A sudden thought crossed his mind, to press a gentle kiss to your forehead in goodbye. But that was quickly dismissed with a quick shake of his head. He didn’t want to disturb you, and he thought it would be inappropriate for him to do so. So he closed the door to your room and left, but not before asking Yuji to give him updates on your condition whenever he could.

Even with Yuji giving him updates, Nanami was getting worried about your condition. You had apparently been in a state of limbo, in and out of consciousness for brief periods of time. You were in good hands though, he knew that the others at Jujutsu High would take care of you, but that didn’t make him any less worried. It had been three days since he had left you, and your condition hadn’t changed. It was now Thursday, and Nanami waited eagerly for Yuji’s text.

Itadori

She’s awake! She’s still a little tired, but she’s asking for you.

Nanami felt his heart stop, his eyes widening as he reread the text message over and over. A feeling that he could only determine to be elation consumed him as he replied to Yuji, grabbing his jacket and racing towards his apartment door.

I’ll be there in an hour, keep her company until I get there.

After what felt like hours, Nanami had finally arrived. Everyone was training, he could see Megumi and Yuji sparring in the middle of the grounds, Maki and Nobara were working on their techniques…

And there you were, engaging in a conversation with Panda and Inumaki. There was a small, tired smile on your lips, you were being polite and nodding along to what they were saying. But when your eyes met his from across the grounds, your eyes regained their enchanting sparkle, and you looked a lot happier.

He watched as you excused yourself, slowly standing up from your seated position and wrapping a small blanket around your shoulders before making your way over to him. He met you halfway, not wanting you to waste the energy you had just recovered on him. He smiled down at you as you stood before him, a sense of nervousness consuming him as he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “H-How are you feeling?” He stuttered, internally cursing himself for the mistake in his speech.

You shrugged your shoulders, clutching the blanket closer to your body as you shivered at the cool breeze. “I’m still a little tired. Gojo has put me on leave so I can rest a little, but otherwise I’m doing alright” You replied kindly, giving him a kind smile. A moment of comfortable silence passed, as both you and Nanami enjoyed each other’s company. You cleared your throat awkwardly, “I uh…I wanted to thank you, for what you did…” You spoke softly, your eyes falling to the ground as a small blush crept onto your cheeks “…You didn’t have to, and to be honest I’m not sure if anyone else would-“

“You’re my partner…” Nanami interrupted blatantly, his words causing your head to shoot back upward in shock “…I warned Gojo that we didn’t know what would happen if you exerted your power, and I wasn’t particularly happy that you would so recklessly put yourself at risk like that…”

He trailed off when he watched your expression fall, the sparkle in your eyes flickering slightly as your gaze fell to the space between the two of you. Nanami sighed slightly, extending his hand and hooking his fingers under your chin. He lifted your head up and stared deeply into your eyes, “…but that being said, the kindness you show people is rare these days, and in the short time I’ve known you, you would go above and beyond to help your friends no matter what the cost would be to you. I made a promise to protect you the first time I met you, and that isn’t going to change now. If you promise me to take care of yourself, then I’ll be happy.”

The sparkle in your eyes returned, glowing brightly as your tired smile widened. The blush on your cheeks darkened, but that didn’t stop you from nodding excitedly. “I promise, as long as you promise to let me heal you when you get hurt, and you can’t protest! If we’re partners, you have to expect that you’re my first priority when it comes to life or death”.

He should have expected that, you giving him a condition to your partnership. But nevertheless, he accepted with a small nod of his head, his stomach erupting in butterflies.

Three…

You dodged Nanami’s attacks, a grunt of effort escaping you as you flipped over to land behind him, bracing your wooden naginata for his next attack.

It came swiftly, he’d already wheeled around and was preparing to strike when you spun to your left. However, he had already anticipated where you were going to go and changed his direction of attack. Your eyes widened as you lifted your hands up to prepare for the blow, knowing that Nanami’s attack would likely send you reeling backward, or flat on your ass.

Nanami slashed with his short sword slicing the naginata completely in half, the force of his attack knocking you completely backward. You released a small shocked scream as you landed on your back, a sharp pained gasp leaving your lips as the air was forced from your lungs. As the dust from the training ground cleared and the stars dancing across your vision ceased, you found yourself staring up at the sky.

This wasn’t working. You had made the active decision to train and make yourself stronger, thinking that maybe this would help you manage your cursed technique so that you wouldn’t pass out as much or expend all of your energy. But so far, the only thing that had happened was that Nanami kept handing your ass to you again…and again…and again. Just when you thought you were progressing and feeling good about yourself, it was ruined by one small mistake.

You groaned and brought your hands to your eyes, balling them into fists to rub away the frustrated tears that threatened to fall. Footsteps crunched against the dirt, a shadow obscuring the sunlight above you. “Come on, again” Nanami ordered, likely extending his hand towards you to help you up from the ground. Your hands dropped to your sides, your tearful eyes glaring up at your partner as you sighed heavily.

“Tell me honestly…am I getting better?” You asked him, a small painful pang twisting through your chest. As you laid there, you waited for Nanami’s reply. He stared down at you through his glasses, you could see that he was deliberately thinking of a reply, or trying to craft it rather so as to not hurt your feelings. But he didn’t have to say anything, his hesitation was enough.

You let out a small whimper, pushing yourself up into a sitting position as you buried your face into your hands. You began to cry, your heart aching as you sobbed loudly. You felt so useless, what use was a Jujutsu sorcerer who couldn’t defend herself, or who was so weak that she could only heal a few people before collapsing from exhaustion.

You wondered what Nanami thought of you in this moment, practically curled into a ball and a complete sobbing mess. You must look so pathetic like this, but you didn’t care. Through your cries you heard the crunching of dirt once more, feeling Nanami’s arm gently brush yours as he sat down on the ground beside you.

The truth was, you were getting better, ever so slowly. You were making progress; he saw it on your last assignment together. You were holding your own incredibly well against a Special Grade spirit when he had accidentally left himself open to an attack, which left him incapacitated. He should have known better, but when he came to you were healing him, and the special grade was gone.

He removed his glasses, sighing lightly as he placed them in his pant pocket. He then reached out and took your hands in his, gently prying them away from your face. When your eyes met his, Nanami felt his chest tighten unbearably in sadness. Your beautiful (eye/colour) hues were bloodshot, the sparkle that he had come to love so much was non-existent now. You looked so sad, your bottom lip quivering as you sniffled softly.

His thumbs gently traced circles on the back of your hands, a gentle comforting motion that caused your cheeks to flush a bright pink and your stomach to do backflips. “You are progressing at your own pace, but I am seeing improvement from you Y/n-“

“I just feel so useless!...” You exclaimed, releasing a loud huff in frustration “what kind of Jujutsu sorcerer am I, if I collapse at the slightest use of my cursed technique? What kind of sorcerer am I if I can’t even protect the people I care about-“

You were suddenly silenced as Nanami surged forward, cupping both sides of your face with his hands and staring deeply into your eyes. Your eyes were wide, your body completely frozen as the distance between the two of you became smaller.

Nanami could feel his heart racing, a light blush forming on his cheeks as he spoke softly. “You are not useless, Y/n. Yes, your cursed technique is rare, and not much is known about it…but that’s what makes you extremely powerful. We don’t know the true extent of your power, but that is also the beauty of it. You have so much potential, but the fact that it takes such a toll on you physically means that we have to do this slowly so as to not hurt you in the process. You and I are in this together, and I am going to be with you every step of the way.”

The two of you were so close now, so close that of Nanami had closed the distance, his lips would have been on yours. And god, he wanted to kiss you. You did something to him that he just couldn’t understand, you made his heart race, he couldn’t think clearly whenever you were near. His stomach wouldn’t stop doing backflips, and his chest would tighten nervously whenever your hands accidently brushed, or when you hugged him, or when you smiled or laughed. It dawned on him then in this moment as he held you so intimately, that he loved you. His eyes softened upon this realisation, a loving smile forming on his lips as he watched your shocked expression fade.

You wanted him to kiss you. He was so close to you now, your heart was racing so wildly in your chest that you were surprised that Nanami couldn’t hear it. You had had a crush on him since your first meeting, that crush slowly growing into a deep and affectionate love when Yuji had told you how concerned Nanami was about your condition when Gojo had asked you to heal everyone before the exchange event. Your missions together only fuelled your love for him, and now that you were both in this intimate position, you wanted nothing more than for him to capture your lips with his.

But of course, the moment was ruined.

“Hey! There you two are! You both weren’t answering your phones, and I thought I’d find you here!”

Both you and Nanami instantly pulled apart, blushing furiously as you both turned to face the evil grinning face of Gojo a few feet away. You couldn’t stop the small laugh that left your lips as Nanami’s face instantly changed from a soft loving expression to a harsh glare, as he directed his annoyance towards your colleague with a sharp reply. “Do you mind? We were kind of in the middle of something-“

“If by ‘in the middle of something’, you mean staring dreamily into each other’s eyes, slowly leaning in and waiting for the other to make a move-“

Nanami jumped up from the ground in a flash, sprinting toward Gojo with an annoyed cry whilst the white-haired sorcerer screamed in fright. You shook your head as you watched the two of them run around the training grounds while you made yourself comfortable, folding your arms over your chest and crossing your legs as you waited for your partner’s return.

Four…

After deciding that the team needed a night out free of stress and cursed spirits, Gojo had invited everyone to a local bowling alley in the city. He had stated explicitly that it was a ‘compulsory team building exercise’, and so Nanami had no choice but to attend.

He would have preferred to stay inside his apartment, reading a good book and staying warm on this particularly cold night…or inviting you over and making you a nice dinner, like he had planned. But you had managed to convince him that it would be fun, you did remind him that he did have to work with the others and not just you, which he blatantly protested. But even still, he found himself entering the bowling alley a few minutes earlier than the agreed meeting time, his eyes landing on Megumi and Maki who sat at a booth by the wall.

He was a little dejected that you weren’t here yet, but he hoped that you would show up soon. He sat beside Megumi and watched annoyedly as everyone else arrived, even Gojo arrived before you, and he was usually late to everything. His phone vibrated on the table, alerting him to a new message. He lifted the phone to investigate who was texting him and smiled when he saw your name pop up on screen.

Y/n

I am on my way, I promise! I just got a little caught up, tell everyone I’m sorry and I’ll be there soon.

Nanami chuckled, replying casually and ignoring the fact that Yuji and Gojo were peering over his shoulder to see what he was smiling at.

Are you alright? It’s not like you to be late.

You didn’t reply, for ten minutes Nanami waited anxiously for his phone to alert him to your message. He was growing anxious and irritated, crossing his arms over his chest as he eyed the door of the bowling alley. Every time it opened his heart leapt into his chest in the hope that it was you finally arriving, but he was left disappointed each time.

His phone vibrated again, Nanami’s attention immediately shifting back to the table as he snatched the device off the table before Gojo could grab it. Your name appeared on the screen again, a small sense of relief settling in his chest before it was replaced with panic. He had to reread the text twice, just to confirm that what he was actually reading was correct.

Y/n

Hey, sorry I didn’t answer. There was a cursed spirit on the train, nothing to major. I’m just down the street now, I’ll be there soon.

Nanami practically jumped out of his seat beside Megumi, with everyone shouting at him and asking where he was going. He raced towards the door, his worry and panic consuming him as his hand grasped the door handle. His mind raced as he threw open the door. Where you alright? Were you injured? He had to get to you, he had to make sure that-

As he opened the door, almost tearing it from its hinges, he froze in shock with his eyes widening in disbelief. You were standing before him, your eyes meeting his with a kind smile in greeting. His eyes examined your entire form from head to toe, searching for any sign of injury. But when he found none, the relief he felt was euphoric.

“Hey, I told you I was literally down the street. You didn’t have to come out and-“

Your words died in your throat as Nanami wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his embrace and hugging you tightly. A blush formed on your cheeks at his sudden gesture, but you returned his embrace, wrapping your arms around his torso and burying your head against his chest. The smell of his cologne overwhelmed you, the scent of bergamot and leather, with a faint smell of vanilla that drove you crazy. You breathed deeply, releasing a long breath as you spoke softly “I’m okay, Nanami. I’m fine”.

He pulled away from you just enough so that he could peer down at you. With his arms still wrapped around you, he smiled down at you lovingly. The way your eyes softened, shining so brightly under the city lights. He wished he could have stayed in this moment, with you in his arms forever.

But once again, Gojo had to ruin it.

“Y/n! There you are, we were worried you wouldn’t show up” He teased, appearing beside Nanami and wrapping his arm around his shoulder. You gave Nanami a knowing smile, sensing his annoyance at the sudden intrusion, but you turned your gaze to Gojo and shrugged.

“I’m sorry, I got a bit caught up with something. I’m here now though, so let’s get this night started” You replied, feeling Nanami’s hold on you tighten when Gojo leaned his full body weight against him.

Gojo grinned, his gaze moving between the two of you behind his glasses sceptically. “Alright then! Let’s get you two kids inside, and we’ll get things started!” He announced, motioning with his head to follow him as he removed his arm from Nanami’s shoulder and disappeared back inside. Your eyes met Nanami’s once more, you could see that there was a small glare set onto his features, the reflection of the street in his glasses hiding his actual gaze. But when you pulled away from him and held him at arm’s length, his gaze moved back to you.

You smiled up at him, taking his hands in yours as your gaze flickered to Gojo’s retreating form and then back. “Come on, we should head inside. Gojo might lose his mind if he has to wait any longer” You joked, your words causing the man before you to laugh. Nanami shook his head, nodding in agreement with a short sigh “I suppose you’re right, I’m not promising that I’ll be any good at this though-“ “Oh, I’m terrible at bowling. We can both share in the embarrassment then” You joked lightly, grinning teasingly as Nanami chuckled wholeheartedly.

The two of you joined the others, and the night of chaos began. Gojo had decided to make it a challenge, splitting the group into two teams. Whichever team lost, they would have to buy the winning team ice cream. Thankfully, you and Nanami had ended up on the same team, partnered up with Nobara, Yuji and Panda, while the other team consisted of Inumaki, Gojo, Megumi and Maki. While they were uneven teams, you were getting your asses kicked.

You slumped back into your seat, sighing heavily as you folded your arms over your chest. This was the last round, and the other team was nine points ahead thanks to a spare from Megumi. It was Nanami’s turn, the last turn of the night. “You’re up Kento…” Gojo drawled, standing tall and confidently “…try not to miss”.

You really didn’t want Gojo to win, he would brag about it for weeks on end and would never let you hear the end of it. You watched from the corner of your eye as Nanami stood up from beside you, stretching out his arms as he made his way over to pick up the bowling ball. You grew nervous as you watched him walk up to the lane, his intense gaze focused on the bowling pins.

He lifted the ball and swung, allowing the ball to fall from his hand and roll down the lane at a high rate of speed. Your hands flew to your mouth as you waited anxiously, it was like the entire room had gone silent as you all waited for the impact. The ball made contact with the pins…and you watched in amazement as all ten pins fell over. And with that, your team had won by just a single point.

Your team jumped up and cheered ecstatically, while you rushed towards Nanami and practically jumped into his embrace. He caught you with ease as you wrapped yourself around him, holding your thighs securely he spun you around with a deep and happy laugh. “You did it! You won!” You cheered, laughing along with him as you leaned back slightly to stare into his eyes. You removed one of your hands from his neck, and gently removed his glasses before placing them in his jacket pocket. He looked stunned by your actions, a light blush forming on his cheeks as the surrounding bowling alley seemed to fade out of existence.

He wouldn’t lie to himself, Nanami had often thought about holding you like this perhaps in a more…intimate position. It made his heart stutter, his brain short-circuit. He was suddenly very aware of the distance between the two of you, or lack thereof really. All he could focus on was the feeling of your hands on the back of his neck, the sensation sending a rather pleasant shiver down his spine. He could have kissed you, he almost did. You looked so beautiful underneath the neon lights of the bowling alley, your eyes reflecting the colours in a dazzling array. The urge to capture your lips with his was strong, but then you both suddenly seemed to snap back to reality upon realising that you were in front of numerous prying eyes.

He carefully placed you back down on the ground, clearing his throat awkwardly as the two of you fixed your clothes with a few quick brushes. However, it seemed that no one seemed to notice the moment the two of you shared, as they had descended into a tense argument. Megumi had claimed that your team had cheated, while Yuji retaliated and defended your team.

You and Nanami turned to look at each other again, laughing quietly to yourselves as you both stood together, hands brushing one another’s as you watched your friends descend into a full-blown blame game.

Five…

“Are you seriously getting mad at me for this!?” You exclaimed, glaring up at the man before you in annoyance. Nanami huffed, his hands clenching into fists by his side as his anger grew.

Upon a sudden revelation from Sukuna, who Yuji had allowed to take over in order to deal with a rather difficult Special Grade spirit, he had taken a great interest in you when he first heard about your abilities. He was impressed, a healing cursed technique like yours hadn’t been seen in hundreds of years, since he was last physically alive, and not to the powerful extent that he could sense in you. He’d offered to help you master it, stating quite blatantly that if you didn’t and expended too much of your energy in one go, your cursed technique would kill you.

As it turned out, your cursed technique used your physical life force to heal a wound or injury. Because you were channelling it through your form, and not allowing yourself to draw on the cursed energy surrounding you, it was killing you every time you used it. It was still a very dangerous technique, Sukuna made the point of stating.

‘You wouldn’t want to die saving your dear, precious Nanami…would you?’

And now the two of you found yourselves here, in Nanami’s apartment arguing for the past half hour.

Nanami took a moment to compose himself, allowing himself to take a deep breath in and releasing it slowly, his shoulders rising and falling tensely. “No, I’m not mad at you…” He spoke lowly, staring down at you whilst trying to contain himself “…I’m more mad at the fact that you actually thought about working with Sukuna-“

“What else am I supposed to do!?” You exclaimed, throwing your arms out in exasperation, “You heard him, if I don’t learn how to use my technique properly, I will die. If he is the only one who knows how to master it, then maybe I should take that chance”.

“Absolutely not…” Nanami growled, his jaw clenching harshly “he wants something from you. You saw how interested he was when he met you, once he has taught you everything he knows about your technique, if he knows anything at all, he’ll force you into a pact, and I am not going to let that happen-“

“I want to be able to help people without collapsing after I heal a papercut…” You spoke firmly, your voice quivering as your hands balled into fists “I want to be strong, I want to be able to help everyone and myself, and I can’t do that with the way I am now”.

“You are talking about getting help from the most powerful and dangerous Special Grade spirit we know…” Nanami snapped, his eyes narrowing into a dangerous glare as his tone darkened “…you would be throwing away your life either way.”

“I want to be able to protect the people I care about Nanami, I want to be able to protect you…” You cried, the angry and frustrated tears falling onto your cheeks. You felt like he wasn’t listening to you. He didn’t know what it felt like to feel completely useless, to feel like you were only getting in other people’s way when you used your technique. If you used it in the field to keep someone standing, you were practically a deadweight afterward, completely tired and worn out.

You weren’t strong like Nanami, your cursed technique didn’t allow you to pinpoint a spirit’s weak spot and strike with deadly precision. You weren’t skilled in weaponry like Maki, nor were you able to fight like Megumi or Yuji. But protecting them, protecting Nanami…that is what mattered to you.

Nanami sighed heavily. He could see the frustration on your face, but you weren’t listening to him. Sukuna would use you until he got what he wanted. He would train you, yes, but then what? Nanami wouldn’t be able to live with himself if that happened, if Sukuna were to possess you and use your healing technique to his advantage. So Nanami shook his head, trying to maintain a calm composure so as to not completely blow up in anger.

“I don’t need your protection, Y/n. You need to focus on protecting yourself, and you need to go about it the right way”.

He watched your eyes widen in shock, the tears in your eyes freely falling onto your cheeks as your body trembled. The look on your face made his heart ache painfully, your bottom lip quivering harder as your gaze fell downward to the floor. The choked sob that escaped your lips broke him. Regret instantly settled in his chest as he watched you wipe your eyes, grab your jacket from the top of his kitchen counter, and slowly trudge towards the door. You didn’t say goodbye to him as you left, you merely opened the door and disappeared out into the hall.

A heavy weight hung in the air as Nanami sunk into the chair behind him, pinching the bridge of his nose as he sighed heavily. Tears stung his eyes, his chest aching as the heartbroken expression on your face imprinted on his mind. The one thing you wanted to do was protect him, and he had just told you that he didn’t need your help.

He cursed loudly, swatting at the decanter on the coffee table and sending it flying, the crystal smashing violently and the liquid inside splashing all over the floor. He slumped further back in his chair, breathing deeply as he tried not to cry himself. He’d hurt you, he’d promised to never hurt you.

He decided that he would call you later to talk, to apologise for what he had said. He never meant a word of it, all he wanted was for you to understand that he was trying to protect you from yourself. He would never let you make a deal with Sukuna, over his dead body. But first, he thought he should let the situation calm down.

An hour later his calls were left unanswered, his texts unread. He supposed that you had just turned your phone off, or you just weren’t speaking to him now. That didn’t stop him from staring down at his phone screen, desperately hoping that you would answer him sometime soon. That hour turned into two, then three and so on.

He went to bed, hoping that when he woke up the next morning there would be a reply from you. But it was now 1am in the morning, and he couldn’t sleep. Your silence was unnerving, it was incredibly unlike you. His mind raced, going through multiple scenarios of why you weren’t responding to him. It literally could be that you just weren’t talking to him. You were mad at him, and you had every right to be. But a part of him worried that maybe something had happened to you, that you had been hurt by some sort of spirit or you had expended your energy somewhere…and he wasn’t there to help you.

But he knew you were strong, you were more than capable of defending yourself. Of course you were, he had trained you himself. But he would continue to worry about you, he cared about you too much not to. He tossed and turned, becoming restless as he couldn’t get comfortable, sleep alluding him completely. A sudden thought crossed his mind, he should go to Jujutsu High and see you, apologise personally. But it was way too early in the morning, and he didn’t want to wake your either.

But he decided to do it anyway, your silence eating away at him. He got out of bed and dressed quickly, choosing for a more casual look than his daily suit before stuffing his phone into his jean pockets and exiting his apartment. He estimated that he would likely reach Jujutsu High a little before 2am, taking into account the traffic that would likely be in his way.

By the time he arrived, heavy raindrops had drenched his clothes. His hair was a mess, matted to his forehead as he skilfully and stealthily approached your room so as to not alert the guards. He was a bit surprised to see light coming from inside your room, but it allowed a sense of relief to settle over him as he knocked on your door gently. He could hear a faint shuffling sound from behind the door, his eyes watching as it swung open to reveal your form huddled in a blanket.

Your eyes widened, a short gasp leaving your lips as you frantically searched the hall behind him. “Nanami!? What are you doing here!?” You exclaimed in a hushed whisper, your eyebrows furrowing as you stared up at him in confusion. Nanami sighed softly “I…You weren’t answering your phone. I know you’re mad at me, but I wanted to apologise-“

“So, you came all the way here, at 2am in the morning, in the rain…to apologise?” You asked quietly, a light blush forming on your cheeks as you put two and two together. Nanami nodded, small droplets of water dripping from his hair and onto the floor.

“What I said, about me not needing your protection…I didn’t mean it. Knowing that you are by my side and using your ability to protect my life has made me realise that yes, being a Jujutsu sorcerer is extremely complicated, and these forces and techniques all work in mysterious ways, but I’ve come to love yours even more than the others. You are selfless, kind, and willing to risk your own life to protect the people you care about, though I would prefer that you didn’t. If you wish to speak with Sukuna and learn how to master your technique, then I won’t stop you, but I want you to know that no matter what happens I will not be happy about it, but I will stand by you and help you to the best of my ability.”

His words struck you with such intensity that your eyes stung with tears. Your heart beat wildly in your chest as you stared up at him with a soft and loving smile. A pleasant shiver ran down your spine, your chest filling with such emotion that you just…didn’t know what to do. You surged forward, wrapping your arms around his torso and hugging him tight. You didn’t care that Nanami was soaked, or that your clothes were now damp, all you cared about was him.

Nanami instinctively wrapped his arms around you, holding you close and burying his face in your hair. He thought about pressing his lips to your skalp, a gentle kiss to seal his apology and hopefully gain your acceptance. He wanted you to know that he was truly sorry, and that there was more that he could do if his words weren’t enough-

All too quickly you pulled away, stepping back and taking his hands in yours and tracing gentle circles on his palms. “I’m sorry too, for everything. I’m not going to speak with Sukuna, I’m going to do this my own way…and I would like you to be there with me-“

“Of course, anything” Nanami replied quickly, your smile causing his heart to swell with happiness. With a small motion of your head, you spoke softly “You can stay the night if you want, I don’t see the point in you coming all the way here and then going all the way back. You’ll be getting back by like 4am-“

“Oh no, really it’s fine Y/n I-“

“Nanami…” You whispered sternly, giving him a stern playful glare as you shook your head “…I insist. Seriously, I have some of Gojo’s old clothes that might fit you-“

“Why do you have Gojo’s old clothes?” He asked bewilderedly, giving you a confused look as you giggled awkwardly.

“Oh! No it’s nothing like that I promise! When I first got here in winter I didn’t have that many warm clothes, so he gave me a hoodie and trackpants to keep me warm!”

“Uh huh, sure” Nanami teased, chuckling as you hauled him inside. You groaned, lightly punching his shoulder as you closed the door behind him “Seriously? Gojo is like an older brother to me, I’ll get you the clothes just shhhhhhhh!” You scolded, to which Nanami glared at you playfully. He smirked, taking the clothes from you and disappearing into your bathroom.

When he emerged, he saw that you had already crawled into your bed. You gently patted the mattress beside you, the blush on your cheeks deepening. Nanami knew exactly what was going through your mind, and without another word he crawled under the covers beside you. Your heart was beating so fast you worried that he might hear it, as the two of you settled in. With a small whispered ‘goodnight’ to each other, you both fell into a comfortable sleep.

Come morning, Gojo grew concerned. You usually woke up early and met him for breakfast, and when you didn’t, he knew something had to be wrong. He made his way to your room, knocking gently and waiting patiently for your reply. When none came, Gojo slowly and quietly opened your bedroom door and his eyes widened in shock and awe.

You were lying in bed, tangled in Nanami’s arms! Your head was buried against his chest, with Nanami’s arms wrapped around you securely. The two of you were snoring softly, completely dead to the world as you shifted slightly, Nanami’s arms holding you closer whilst his chin came to rest on top of your head. Gojo snorted quietly, covering his mouth with his hand so as to not burst with laughter. He needed evidence that this happened, otherwise no one would ever believe him. Hell, he wouldn’t believe him if he wasn’t looking at this historic moment right now.

So Gojo quickly took out his phone, snapping a few pictures before exclaiming victoriously in a hushed whisper…that was until a pillow smacked him in the face. With a loud ‘oof’ he heard a stern voice growl “Delete that, or I will make sure you regret it”.

“No way Kento! I have been waiting forever to catch the two of you like this, I need evidence this happened otherwise people will think I’m crazy!”

“You are crazy!” Gojo heard you screamed, your voice loud and high pitched “Get out!”.

The glare that Nanami directed towards him was so intense that Gojo felt an overwhelming sense of nervousness consume him, the hairs on the back of his neck sticking up on end as the familiar feeling of cursed energy hung in the air. Gojo shrieked as he left your room, phone clutched in hand as he laughed evilly.

The one time he did…

Finally, a quiet night in.

A night that was undisturbed by the sudden appearance of a cursed spirit, one of your fellow first years requiring your attention, or Gojo suddenly appearing from nowhere and ruining the peace.

Deciding to follow up on that nice dinner he wanted to make you weeks ago, when everyone went out bowling instead, he invited you over to his apartment so he could make you your favourite dish. You practically lived at his apartment most days anyway now, he didn’t mind though, he loved your company, and honestly wouldn’t have minded if you said that you wanted to stay permanently.

He kept sneaking glances at you from the kitchen, watching your huddled form on the lounge as your curled up with one of the books he was reading. He was already about halfway through it, but you had taken a great interest when he had explained the plot to you on the morning when Gojo had caught the two of you together. He watched as your eyes skimmed the pages, the way you unconsciously bit your lip as you tilted your head to the side in intrigue. They way you smiled when you-

“Shit!” Nanami hissed, the knife in his hand clattering against the stone-top loudly as he stepped backward away from the bench. A sharp stinging pain coursed through his hand, a strange warmth spreading downward as he lifted his hand up in front of his face. He cursed again at the blood that poured from the cut on his finger, immediately turning around to face the sink and run his hand under the water.

“Are you okay?” He heard you call out from behind him, the soft ���thump’ of a book landing on the coffee table echoing throughout his apartment. Nanami winced as the water made contact with the cut, the stinging sensation becoming unbearable as he allowed the blood to dribble down the drain. “I’m fine, I just dropped something” he lied, bracing his other hand against the kitchen sink as he pressed his lips together in a thin line. The pain was becoming worse, he’d surely cut deep hence the amount of blood. He shook his head in annoyance, cursing himself internally.

Damn it, he’d ruined everything. The food was no doubt covered in blood, completely inedible. Just one night, one night where something didn’t go wrong-

Nanami watched with wide eyes as your hands suddenly appeared in his field of vision, reaching across him and turning off the tap. He stood practically frozen as you turned him to face you, taking his injured hand in yours and holding it close to your face to examine the cut on his index finger.

You pouted slightly, peering up at him through your lashes as you ‘tsked’. “Well, that was silly of you” You scolded, shaking your head teasingly while Nanami blushed a bright red in embarrassment. He cleared his throat awkwardly “I-It was an accident” He stuttered, feeling the weight on his chest lift as you laughed softly.

“I would hope so…” you replied calmly, placing his hand in-between both of yours as you closed your eyes “…I wouldn’t be very happy with you if it was intentional”. He watched in amazement as your hands began to glow, the blue cursed energy flame consuming both your hand and his. That familiar pins and needles sensation settled in his hand as he watched the cut on his finger close, the blue flame flickering out as the wound completely disappeared. His eyes flickered upward to watch your face for any sign of discomfort, waiting for any sign of fatigue that would indicate that you had expended too much of your energy.

But when you opened your eyes and released a deep and calm sigh, Nanami felt an overwhelming sense of pride consume him. Your eyes met his and you smiled, teasingly holding his hand up in front of his face “See? All better. Was that so hard?”.

Nanami chuckled, shaking his head at your playfulness. You had come so far with your cursed technique, it practically didn’t bother you that much anymore. The two of you had figured out why healing others took such a toll on you, and it was because your cursed energy was so potent that it often didn’t align with someone else’s. You had to attune yourself to their cursed energy, match its frequency, and then allow your technique to flow through them in order to heal them. It was harder for some more than others, with Nanami it pretty much came naturally to you now.

He examined his finger, still impressed by the fact that there was no scar tissue left behind. Your abilities amazed him, it always left him speechless. “So? How does it look?” You asked softly, waiting anxiously for his answer. Nanami shrugged, turning his hand over with a slight huff. “Eh”.

“EH!?” You exclaimed, your eyes widening in shock as you stood there bewildered “There’s nothing there anymore! What do you mean eh!?”.

Nanami erupted in laughter, pulling away from you and clutching his stomach as it ached. He watched as realisation dawned on your face, flinching away from you as you lightly began to punch his arm lightly. “Oh you ass! That’s not nice!”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it…” Nanami replied, wiping a stray tear from his eye as he composed himself “the look on your face was priceless”.

He watched as you pouted, folding your arms across your chest as you turned away from him. He felt a bit bad, turning you around to face him again as an apologetic smile formed on his face. “I’m sorry, I was only teasing” He spoke softly, to which you nodded slowly.

You hummed a small reply, avoiding his gaze on purpose as he tried to get your attention. You looked at anything but him, and your teasing laughter was driving him insane. Your laughter grew louder when he grabbed your waist, pulling you against him so that there was no space between you. Your eyes widened in shock at the sudden movement, a bright blush forming on your cheeks as you stared up at him.

It happened all so suddenly as Nanami dipped down to capture your lips with his. You immediately melted into his touch, wrapping your arms around his neck while his hands settled firmly against your waist. You found yourself being moved backward, your lower back making contact with the countertop as you were now effectively pinned between the counter and his chest. You moaned softly, your heart racing as your hands tangled themselves in his hair.

You had been wanting this to happen for months now, this kiss had been way overdue. A surprised squeak left your lips as Nanami’s hands moved down your waist to your thighs, not once breaking the kiss as he effortlessly lifted you up so that you now sat on the countertop. He moved to stand between your legs, one hand resting on your thigh while the other moved back to your waist. A pleasant shiver coursed through you as you inched yourself closer, a low groan resonating deep within the man before you as he deepened the kiss.

Eventually the two of you pulled away, breathing in much needed oxygen as you placed your foreheads together. Nanami so desperately wanted to continue this, months of pent-up feelings and emotions had finally amounted to this long-awaited kiss, and he wanted more. He froze completely as he watched your eyes fluttered open, your hands slowly tracing downward from his neck and grasping the tie around his neck.

“What would you say about skipping dinner? We could maybe do this another-“

Before you could finish his lips were on your again, your words dying out and your train of thought forgotten as Nanami lifted you into his arms and carried you towards his bedroom. You soon became lost in a tangle of limbs and sheets, the night becoming intensely pleasurable and one that you wouldn’t soon forget.

When Gojo visited the next morning, concerned at the fact that neither one of you were answering his texts or calls, he soon got his answer. Entering Nanami’s apartment unannounced, his bright blue eyes widened in shock and embarrassment at the sight before him. You were sat on the kitchen counter wearing nothing but Nanami’s favourite blue shirt as you turned to look at him over your shoulder, and Nanami was completely shirtless, glaring towards him in annoyance and rage.

Gojo had never left a room faster than he did that morning, not once looking behind him in case an angry Nanami was hot on his heels.

[trifectamix]

I was contacted by someone claiming to be AtlusxP5

A few weeks ago, I got a submission from someone claiming to be AtlusxP5. I brushed it off, thinking it was some prank. On the evening of October 11th, 2024 I received an ask from the same blog. This time I did respond, privately replying that I want proof of their identity.

This is what they gave me:

This is a GIF of the video "goodbye" from another angle.

Me and the person promptly started chatting. I'll be the first to admit, I was rather blunt and direct, still suspect of this person. I asked for more proof, asking for certain unwatermarked images. They provided me with these within minutes, as well as related images.

I have uploaded these images on Mega for your viewing.

I have gotten permission to post these by the person as long as I include a message from them regarding the edited images. I will explain this by the end of this post.

We chatted for almost two hours that evening until I had to go to bed. As I'm writing this, it's October 12th. Earlier today, we had another, more casual, chat. We are about to talk more later.

So, is this person AtlusxP5?

Perhaps.

I asked them questions, and they always responded clearly, never taking more than a minute to formulate their reply. I asked them things that no one but me would care about, and they always had a response.

They have shown me more than just the images I have provided in the Mega link—a lot more. I will not post this content unless given explicit permission to.

Having spoken with them, they don't come off as a person having watched last year's documentary and trying to claim the glory. They have knowledge only someone who's been following this project for 11+ years could possess, not to mention the skill to produce believable content.

I'm sorry if this post is a mess to read. Perhaps I am jumping the gun by publishing this, but I would like to present this for everyone to see.

Before ending this post, I will relay some information regarding early P5:IP pictures.

As a reminder, early "artwork" by AtlusxP5 were in reality edited pictures of existing characters, such as the image below.

It was requested by the person that I include this.

(...) the reasoning as to why I went out of my way to use pre-existing media sources and edited them down just enough so it appeared as an illusion of something else. I wanted to make it just identifiable enough where people could still upon closer inspection find the original source, fitting my theme of illusion and upon closer inspection finding out the truth rather than seeing things face value

Thank you for reading.

[jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear]

Things to note - from a "popular" fandom blogger

I absolutely memorize urls of people who are in my notes regularly

This wasn't always the case, but now tumblr tells you who is following or a mutual. I extra love those people

BUT I also have a special place in my heart for the lurkers or tumblr users who never follow, but regularly visit my blog

Yes please spam me with notes. This is not Instagram, note spamming only effects us positively.

Reblogs over likes yes, but I will be equally happy if you like 20 posts in a row even if you don't engage

Please engage though. Ask culture dying. We (usually) love when people ask us our favorite headcanon or for clarification on canon facts. If someone doesn't want asks, they usually say so. When in doubt, send in a comment. It's always welcome.

Just because I didn't respond within five seconds doesn't mean I'm ignoring you. I do have a life. But also, sometimes it's hard to respond for whatever reason (thanks autism) I do see your kind words and I love them. I'm not mad at you either. I'm just exhausted 24/7 However please understand that I do not owe you my presence all hours of the day. Yes, even if we are close friends.

Please treat me how you want to be treated.

I have almost 90,000 posts, mostly reblogs, but I have a lot of content and I do not mind you doom scrolling. In the same vain, do not assume I was the same person that posted one, two, five or ten years ago. Going through my blog to find "problematic" content only wastes time and tells me you think people are incapable of growth and change. Do better.

Keeping a schedule is tantamount to keeping people engaged and them building a following. Whether you post one a week or daily, or like me--almost hourly--people will come no matter your content if you give them a Reason to come.

No matter how unpopular the thing you are blogging about it's there is ALWAYS an audience. It's never a wasted effort to be creative and put your voice out there. Please, the fandom gets stale without new creators and ideas.

On that note, you are not stealing from another for making the same or similar content. That means you should gif that show that's already been gif'd dozens of times over. You should draw that comic of a popular headcanon/ship. You should write your story. As long as you are doing things in your own words/style and not outright copying word for word or sketch per sketch, you're fine. Two cakes are ALWAYS Better than one.

Being angry and spending your time hating/attacking/vague blogging about other creators only hurts you in the long run. jealously is a normal emotion, but when you let it take over your happiness you're only falling deeper into a pit that's already hard to get out of. (trust me)

Please, please, please do what makes you happy. Life should not be wasted on anger. You don't need popularity to be happy, sometimes it can be hella stressful. (take my word for it) Don't become the bully you wish you where in middle school. Spread kindness, support artist and creators. (this includes gif makers, image editors, amv makers, writers, OCs, etc)

Just. Have fun.

[nikkoliferous]

Out of the twelve episodes of the Loki show, only season 2 episodes 1, 5 and 6 felt like they were actually about Loki. He didn't even feel like the protagonist in like 75% of the show. And even in those three episodes, he was completely ooc, as if the episodes were centered around Larry not Loki. They wasted screentime on that random Zaniac guy and on Miss Minutes becoming horny ffs. Kang doesn't even matter to MCU anymore. They retconned Loki's character for nothing. I hate this all so much.

And Loki was suddenly so comfortable with using the torture devices of TVA. He was trying to protect the TVA for the majority of the series. Even at the end they don't destroy TVA, only reform it. And the entire two seasons had absolutely nothing to do with Loki. It's like they plucked Loki from his world and threw him into a random story that had jack shit to do with him and where he was most definitely not the protagonist.

*sorry, wanted to rant to someone and thought you might understand. 😅*

Take care and have a nice day!

it's not like they plucked Loki from his world and threw him into a story that had jackshit to do with him. that's precisely what they did.

...except no. they didn't even do that, actually. because even according to the show's own logic, this is canonically not our Loki. it's some random "variant" who didn't exist until sixty seconds into the series, who is inexplicably shown a reel of hand-selected, out of context moments from someone else's life in a bid to break him psychologically. (but really, to speed-run his "character development" and catch up all the viewers who have little to no familiarity with Loki. which seems to be what a lot of series stans are, by their own admission. funny how that works, isn't it? it's almost like the the show wasn't even made for fans of Loki).

after watching all of season 1 despite my better judgment, I made the choice not to watch a single episode of season 2, a decision which was only further cemented by what I have seen of it against my will through gif posts. so I can't speak to the contents of any individual episodes beyond season 1. I will just say that even if certain episodes of that season do centre around a character calling himself Loki, if that individual is so OOC as to be unrecognisable as himself, then those episodes are also not about Loki. and not to beat a dead horse, but again—none of the series, regardless of which character it focuses on, is about our Loki. it's about some other character bearing the name Loki so that Disney can reduce him to a mere commodity through the concept of the multiverse.

in the words of my Loki AI well over a year ago now:

[waitmyturtles]

1) CHERRY MAGIC (episode 2) IS SO GOOD, I HAVE TO COVER MY MOUTH AND KEEP MY MEEPS FROM BEING TOO LOUD

2) GOD, TAYNEW! New is SMASHING THIS.

3) The wonderful @so-much-yet-to-learn and I had a discussion a couple months ago about the stylistic and rumored decisions to not have Kurosawa and Adachi (Machida Keita and Akaso Eiji) kiss in the Japanese Cherry Magic adaptation. The rumors (only seen online and not at all confirmed with primary sources) were that Machida's and Adachi's agencies were not supportive of the two having an on-screen smooch. We also considered the public vs. private taboos of public displays of affection in Japanese society and art, which differ from those in other Asian countries (like Thailand).

It's not known if the two actors felt differently about not kissing. At least Machida's agency, Gekidan Exile/Exile Tribe, has provided quite the number of actors in other Japanese BLs who have acted out many more deeds on screen, from Candy Color Paradox to Tokyo in April Is..., and more.

But I think part of the campy gloriousness of the Japanese Cherry Magic adaptation was, in fact, the lack of kissing, and the sensual acting around the indication of that kissing, from Kurosawa's eagerness and his constant struggle to control his emotions, to Adachi's discomfort-to-acceptance-and-happiness journey. There was tremendous communication in their body and verbal language that got them to their happy ending in the series, and to not have the actual kiss was, for me, dramatically satisfying for how that decision was supported through the excellent acting and the painstaking details of the show.

So, for so many of us, as we learned that TayNew would take up this mantle in Thailand last year, we were like -- alright, NOW we are going to get the kisses, right?

And at least for now, we haven't, which makes me wonder a bit. We saw Kurosawa's lips touch Adachi's forehead in Japan,

and Karan's lips were hidden by Achi's fluffy bangs in Thailand.

Does New need some texturizing, or was this on purpose? (I'm CACKLING, poor Tay, look at that hair in his FACE, omg.)

If this was a stylistic nod to Japan? Then... well done, because at least I noticed it, and kinda loved it. We know (WE KNOWWWW, heh heh, thank you, Kiss Me Again and Dark Blue Kiss) what TayNew are capable of, and I just loved this little moment of subtlety here in Cherry Magic, because we don't actually know what we're going to get later this series.

Because I am a fucking simp for all things Cherry Magic, I also noted the slight changes in how Karan approached Achi on the rooftop later that night, as compared to Kurodachi. Honestly, I am SO ENJOYING these different approaches, and only note these simply by way of how I'm loving Machida's acting versus that of Tay.

Kurosawa on the rooftop was a ball of NERVES, man.

Whereas it almost seemed like Tay's Karan was silently joyful, with smiles playing at the edges of his lips, to be so close to Achi and having this conversation about the dinner game.

These are NOT the greatest screenshots, but if I could gif, I would try to capture how the corner's of Tay's mouth in that last screenshot just uplifted slightly. This wasn't a moment of shock and nerves; this was a moment of OMG OMG OMG EEEEEE THIS IS MY TIMEEEEE.

(EDITING TO ADD: I’m such a dunce! I should have known the gif makers were already on this — and the gorgeous deity @liyazaki captured Tay’s mouf perfectly. That giddiness in the last gif!)

And in their acting? I love BOTH APPROACHES so much. Because both approaches are well within the emotional range of the moment that we're experiencing with them.

We're departing from the Japanese dorama next week in content, and I cannot wait to see where we go. GMMTV gave us some holiday gifts in Last Twilight and Cherry Magic airing on Fridays and Saturdays, no?

[virtie333]

Paint It Black

Yovanna is starting a new life in Australia, but she would be happier if the man who helped her get there could share that life with her.

My first Triple Frontier fic, written in honor of the Netflix movie's 5th anniversary. It's just a simple love story, what I would have wished to see happen for Santiago and Yovanna.

@triplefrontier-anniversary

Rated NC-17 for Explicit Sexual Content (18+ Only!): Includes protected P in V and mirror sex.

Cross-posted on AO3

5.6k words (sorry, not sorry!)

Inspired by this gifset!

“Katia?”

It took almost two full seconds for Yovanna to respond to the teenage girl behind the counter; she was still not used to that name. Katia Hernàndez was who she was now, but despite living with that name for the last six months, she still had a hard time remembering to respond to it. She wondered if she would ever find it easy.

She turned toward the front of the delicatessen, where sixteen-year-old Maggie was looking at her expectantly, a plastic bag on the counter in front of her. The girl smiled when Yovanna looked her way, and Yovanna smiled back.

“Sorry, I was distracted.”

Maggie giggled. “Yeah, my mind likes to wander a lot, too.”

Yovanna walked over to the counter to take the bag with her purchases. “Gracias,” she told the girl.

“De nada,” Maggie responded. “Is that right?”

Yovanna smiled. “Si, that’s one way to say ‘thank you’.”

A woman came up behind Maggie, grinning. “You know, she had no interest in learning a foreign language until you started shopping here,” Lauren said. Blonde like her daughter, Lauren Oggelby owned and operated Oggelby Deli, one of the few delicatessens in Kiama, New South Wales. Seeing as it was just down the street from the apartment Yovanna shared with her little brother Emiliano – Ezra now, she reminded herself – it was the only deli she had been to in this town. The straightforward friendliness of Lauren and Maggie made it feel comfortable and safe.

Safe was not something Yovanna was used to.

“I want to learn it so well I can have a full conversation with you in Spanish,” Maggie said, responding to her mother’s comment.

Yovanna nodded. “Well, from what I understand, it’s a lot easier to learn Spanish than English, so be glad you already know the hard one.”

Maggie laughed while Lauren nodded. “You speak it fluently,” she observed.

“My mother was raised in the United States,” Yovanna said, making sure she didn’t say where in the U.S. “I grew up speaking both Spanish and English.”

“I want to visit Guatemala someday,” Maggie said dreamily. “It sounds beautiful.”

Yovanna smiled again. “It is.” She shrugged. “I better get going. I’ll see you both later!” She didn’t dare speak any more about the country she was from, especially since it wasn’t Guatemala. The two women waved at her and said their goodbyes as Yovanna left the store. She slipped on her sunglasses and headed down the sidewalk, away from the beach which was only a quarter of a mile away to the east. She would probably end up there later today; she usually did. She loved the ocean, though she had rarely seen it before coming to Australia six months ago. She would be content to live next to the sea for the rest of her life.

She arrived at the gate to the small complex she lived in. At the moment, it was only temporary, as she hoped to find a nice house in the near future, but odds were good Emiliano would stay here. He had started on-line classes just a few weeks ago, and Yovanna knew he wanted to become more independent; they had been in each other’s pockets since they had arrived, and they were both ready to start living their own lives now that things seemed to be settled.

Kiama was a beautiful, quiet place, and Yovanna was ready to call it home.

Yovanna climbed to the second floor of the complex, then walked to the third door down. She unlocked it, then nearly ran into her brother as he was heading out. “Where are you off to?” she asked in Spanish.

“I’m going to Ted’s,” he told her in English. He was determined to fit in to his new home by rarely speaking his native language. He wanted to rid himself of any accent other than Australian. “Then I have a date with Margo tonight, so I don’t know when I’ll be home.”

Yovanna felt a tug of anxiety and tried to ignore it. Emiliano had been doing well since they had arrived to this new country with new names and forged documents. His short jaunt in jail in Colombia, and the terror of having been in the discotech in Tarapacà when it was raided and almost destroyed by police, had set him back on a safer course. Money was not an issue for them anymore, and drugs had fortunately not become an addiction before his arrest. Their arrest, actually. Only she had gotten away.

With the help of one of those ‘cops.’

“Well, have fun,” she responded, also in English. “But not too much fun. Make sure you use protection.”

She couldn’t help but smile as her little brother, who stood taller than her and was very much a mature young man, blushed. “I will,” he mumbled before heading past her out of the apartment.

Sighing, Yovanna took the bag into the kitchen and began to put away the meats and cheeses and spreads she had purchased, her mind drifting, as it often did, to the ‘cop’ who had helped her and her brother get here. She wondered where he was. What he was doing. Had he made it out of Colombia safely? Had he and his friends gotten all that money over the mountains? Was he now lazing on some beach somewhere, some beautiful blonde in a bikini feeding him cholados?

She shook her head, chastising herself. She needed to stop thinking about him. He most likely had forgotten about her. Hell, she didn’t even know his name!

She finished putting away her purchases and leaned back against the counter, remembering the last day she had seen him, when she and Emiliano had started their journey to Australia with three million dollars. She remembered the question his friend, another former soldier, had asked her. “After you had sex…” She scoffed. She wished that had been the case. For the almost thirteen months she had known ‘Consejero,’ he had never once done anything improper or propositioned her in any way. She had often wondered why, as other ‘officials’ she had known, American or otherwise, had never been shy about requesting sex in exchange for protection and secrecy.

And Lord knows if he had requested that of her, she would not have refused.

But he never did. Though there were times… no. She was fooling herself, thinking she had often read more in his gaze than was most likely there. That he cared about her. That he worried about her.

That he loved her.

She groaned out loud and pushed herself away from the counter, moving toward the refrigerator, intent on getting something cold to drink. Though the AC in the apartment worked wonderfully, thinking about Consejero always made her heat up. She needed to follow her brother’s example and find someone here. Goodness knows she had already been asked out by enough people since her arrival. It didn’t matter that she was always comparing them to him. And always found them lacking.

There was a sharp, sudden knock on the door and it made her jump. She shook her head at her own nervousness and moved toward the door, wondering if it was her brother. Maybe he had forgotten something. She unlocked the door and pulled it open, then stood in silent shock as she saw who was on the other side.

As if she had conjured him with her thoughts, Consejero himself was here.

XXXXX

Yovanna stared at the man standing outside her doorway, her eyes quickly assessing him, noticing the changes from the last time she had seen him. His hair was longer, the grey a little less pronounced in the thicker curls. He had the familiar 5-o’clock-shadow, but his face seemed narrower, his cheekbones more pronounced, as if he had lost weight. His broad shoulders also seemed sharper under his dark grey button down, and as her gaze trailed down his body to his khaki cargo pants, she realized he was indeed skinny. Too skinny.

She brought her eyes back up to meet his. Chocolate brown and as intense as always, this was something that hadn’t changed. She opened her mouth to speak, but the shock of his appearance kept her silent.

“Hello, Yovanna,” he said softly, his heavy brows low as he watched her carefully.

“Katia,” she said automatically in reply.

He huffed slightly and the corner of his mouth curled up. “Katia.” He took a deep breath, then shook his head. “If you want me to leave and pretend I never saw you-“

“No!” she interrupted him. She stepped back. “Come in, please?”

He did as she asked, walking past her toward her living room. His cologne, subtle and alluring, caught her attention. That also hadn’t changed, she thought as she closed her eyes and breathed deep. Delicious. She opened her eyes and closed the door, locking it immediately as she had become accustomed to. She turned and followed him into the living room.

He turned to face her, his expression uncertain. “Where’s Duke?”

She rolled her eyes at her brother’s nickname. “Ezra is with friends.”

“He’s doing well?”

She nodded. “Yes.” She paused, and when he didn’t continue, she rushed ahead. “What are you doing here?” She didn’t bother asking how he had found her; he had been the one to have the fake passports and documents made. He knew more about her new persona than she did. The question that she needed answered was why he was here.

He bit his lip, and she tried not to think about what that action did to her physically, then he met her eyes with his own. There was a strange desolation in them, a sadness she didn’t remember seeing in his eyes before. She had witnessed him angry and concerned, and she had seen those eyes light up with laughter, but never had she seen him like this.

“What happened?” she whispered, knowing it wasn’t good.

He gave a heavy sigh and moved to sit down on one of the stools that sat along the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. “Everything wrong,” he told her.

“You didn’t get the money out, did you?” she asked softly.

He shook his head. “Not much.”

“Did everyone make it?” she whispered, instinctively knowing that while losing all that money would be devastating, losing one of his friends would be worse.

His lips tightened and his eyes narrowed as he looked away from her, then he gave a sharp shake of his head. “Redfly didn’t,” he mumbled.

“Redfly?” she said. She hadn’t known the men he had brought to take down Lorea, but he had told her that she could trust them. That he trusted them with his life. And she had overheard them talking with each other. “He was the one that didn’t trust me, wasn’t he?”

He gave another sharp nod, then looked at her. “And I’m not going to deny how pleased I was to prove him wrong about you,” he said softly. “But he was off his game. We all were.”

“I’m sorry,” Yovanna said softly, and she meant it. While she might not have had a good experience with the man, he was still this man’s friend. And she cared about this man. Too much.

He shrugged. “What money we got out, we gave to his family,” he continued. “I’ve just been… wandering since. Can’t go back to Colombia. Can’t go back to the States.”

She nodded. “Diego and his men know your real name,” she said. And they had plenty of contacts in the States. She huffed a laugh. “So, you came to the one person you know who actually benefitted from your heist.”

He furrowed his brows for a moment, then his eyes widened as he realized what she was saying. “Oh, no! That’s not why I’m here,” he argued. “I may not be a millionaire, but I’ve still got plenty of my own money from investments keeping me afloat. I…”

She laughed at his defensiveness and moved to the refrigerator in the kitchen. Opening it, she pulled out a couple bottles of Schweppes lemonade and handed one to him. “It doesn’t matter,” she told him, trying to believe it herself. The idea that he had come for her and just her was too much to hope for. “It’s not like Emiliano… I mean Ezra and I are going to need all that money. It started out as yours, and you are welcome to a share.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s yours. I don’t care if you keep the majority in hiding or invest it or give it all away to charity, it’s yours.” His dark eyes were focused on her intently once more. “I came here because I missed you.”

Yovanna sat on the stool next to him, but couldn’t look at him. Instead, she focused on opening the bottle in her hand.

He continued. “I missed talking to you. I missed complaining about all those little things that annoy me to you, and getting your sympathy. You were the only person I really trusted in Tarapacà, dare I say my only friend there?” He paused, waiting for her to look at him. “I missed your smile. Your laugh. The way you glared at me when I teased you.”

She finally looked at him, searching his face, but she saw no duplicity there. Despite their official relationship, she believed he had never lied to her. And she had never lied to him, which is why he had been so angry with her after the discotech raid. “I wasn’t like any of your other informants, was I?” she asked, and she couldn’t help the bit of sarcasm in her voice.

Either he didn’t pick up on it or he chose to ignore it. “No, you weren’t. And you were my only one in the end. The only one I trusted.”

Yovanna took a sip of her drink, then shook her head again. “I always wondered why you treated me different,” she told him. “Carmen and Lucia had much different relations with you.” Carmen was one of the secretaries in the office she had worked at, the one where most of Lorea’s money was funneled through. And Lucia was her friend who worked as a housekeeper for several of Lorea’s men in Tarapacà. It was through them that this man had found her, a lowly accountant, who knew far more about the coming and going of all that dirty money than most of her coworkers.

He seemed to pull back at her words, knowing now what she was getting at. Carmen and Lucia had both commented more than once that he ‘paid them well,’ both in and out of bed.

He watched her silently for a long moment. “You’re wondering why I didn’t fuck you, aren’t you?”

She felt her face heat, which was crazy. Yovanna wasn’t an innocent, though it had been a very long time since she had been in a relationship with a man. Since before she met this one, in fact. She tried to shake her head to deny his question, but she couldn’t.

“There’s two very good reasons why I never asked you for that kind of arrangement,” he told her, his voice hardening. “One was that I knew you weren’t that kind of woman. Lucia and Carmen both used sex to control the men in their lives on a regular basis. It was an exchange as easy as money to them. I knew you were different.” He took a deep breath. “And two… I knew I could love you.”

Yovanna’s eyes shot up to his face. Had she heard him right? Had he actually used the word love? She was literally speechless at his comment, but as she searched his face, she once more found no evidence of deceit. If anything, he looked nervous, as if he wasn’t sure he should have admitted something so dangerous.

When her silence continued, he grimaced and nodded. Setting the unopened bottle of lemonade on the counter, he stood. “I just wanted to be sure you and your brother were doing okay. It looks like you found a perfect home, and I hope you are happy here. I don’t want to upset that peace. Goodbye, Yovanna.” He paused and smiled slightly. “I mean Katia.” He nodded and turned toward her door.

“I don’t even know your name,” she said, hating how desperate her voice sounded.

He stopped and turned back as he reached the door. “Santiago,” he told her. “Santiago Garcia.”

She slid off the stool and walked quickly toward him. “Don’t go, Santiago. Please, don’t leave.”

“Give me a reason to stay,” he responded, his voice rough.

She reached for his hand, taking it in both of hers and rubbing his calloused palm gently. She brought it up to her mouth and kissed his rough knuckles, then looked him in the eye. Slowly, deliberately, she turned and tugged on his hand, coaxing him to follow her to her bedroom.

He didn’t resist.

XXXXX

Santiago.

The name rolled around in her head like the lyrics to a favorite song. Santiago. It was perfect for him. It was strong and masculine, but caring and empathetic, like the stories of the saints she learned as a child. Santiago.

As soon as the door to her bedroom closed behind them, he had her pinned to the wall, her arms up with their fingers entwined, his mouth on hers. She reciprocated by writhing against him, meeting his tongue with her own in a sensuous dance. As his lips dropped to her neck, she pulled her hands free, reaching down to work on the buttons of his shirt. He responded by grabbing the hem of her t-shirt and pulling it up and over her head. She stepped away from him a bit so she could toe off her shoes and he moved to sit on the corner of her bed so he could remove his boots.

She followed him there, bending over to work on his shirt once more. He tried kissing her while they both worked, missing her mouth and connecting with her cheek or her ear over and over again until she was giggling. When she looked at him, the crow’s feet around his eyes grew as his smile widened. The darkness in his eyes had faded.

She straightened and reached behind her for the clasp of her bra, slowly letting it slide down her arms. His eyes became intense once more as he watched her, slowly taking off his now unbuttoned shirt. As he focused on her bare breasts, she ran her eyes over his chest. While he had indeed lost weight in the last few months, he was still beautiful. Muscled without looking like a body builder, his copper skin tantalizing. His chest was hairless, but the trail of hair that began under his navel and disappeared under his waistband was alluring.

“Wait!” he said suddenly, and she brought her eyes up to meet his. “I seriously wasn’t expecting this,” he told her with a slight shake of his head, his eyes huge. “I don’t have protection.”

Yovanna smiled slightly and walked over to the dresser next to the bed. She opened the top drawer and pulled out an unopened box of condoms, then brought them back to Santiago. “I bought them for my brother, but he assured me he had his own.” She tossed the box onto the bed next to him.

He looked at them, then looked at her, and the excitement she saw in his eyes sent a shot of electricity through her. He began to unbuckle his belt, and she started to work on the fly of her lightweight trousers, quickly sliding them off as he stood and removed his, boxers and all. He stepped into her before she could get a good look at his impressive erection, wrapping his arms tight around her and finding her mouth with his own once more. She let herself sink into his kiss, feeling her whole body shiver at the feel of his naked skin against hers.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, letting her hands sweep along his shoulders and the back of his neck. Her fingers found the scar there, and she gently massaged the area. She knew he had gotten surgery on his neck only a few months before the heist had taken place; he had returned home to the States for it, and she had missed him while he had been gone. His mouth once more dropped down to her neck, but then she felt him still. She pulled back slightly to look at him, and realized he was looking behind her. She looked over her shoulder to see what had caught his attention away from her.

It was their own reflection in the floor length mirror on her closet door. She felt her heart start to race as she watched his hands smooth down her naked back, cupping her almost-bare bottom; she was still wearing a pair of teal-colored panties.

Suddenly, he grabbed her shoulders and turned her around with a growl deep in his throat. As she faced their reflection, she caught sight of his cock, which looked even more massive than before now that he was fully aroused, and then she felt it pressed against the upper curve of her buttocks. His arms came around her once more, one hand cupping her breast and squeezing it lightly, the other dropping down between her legs, his fingers delving into her panties to burrow into her wet heat. She cried out, both the feel of him and the sight of them in the mirror shooting her arousal into orbit.

“So fucking wet,” he murmured roughly against her neck, his fingers playing with her sensitive folds. “So fucking wet for me.”

His words made her whimper, and she rocked her hips against his touch.

“Look at me!” His words were harsh and made her jump. She hadn’t realized she had closed her eyes. She opened them to look at him in the mirror, making eye contact through their reflection. “Tell me you want this!” he demanded. “Tell me now or I walk out of here.”

And he would, she knew. He would stop if she didn’t give him the okay. This man, a trained killer, would leave her alone if she asked, even as fully aroused as he was right now. Holding his powerful gaze, she nodded. “I want this.”

He brought his hand out from between her legs and plucked at her panties. “Off!” he told her as he backed toward the bed, grabbing the box she had put there and ripping it open. She slid her panties off as he removed a condom, preparing it and sliding it on. She had turned to watch him and didn’t hide that fact. ¡Dios mío! He was thick! She felt her pussy weep even more fluid at the thought of him inside of her. He finished and stepped toward her again. Briefly he made eye contact once more before grasping her shoulders and turning her away from him again. He pushed her forward gently, toward the mirror.

She realized what he was doing and she began to pant in excitement. When she was close, she leaned forward, her hands on the mirror. She looked up to see him move behind her and grasp her hip with one hand. She felt his cock come up between her legs, but he didn’t push in. Instead, he used his other hand to run it all over her dripping pussy, covering the condom with her juices. She moaned at the sensation, her hips moving counter to his actions. “¡Dios!” she cried, feeling an orgasm already threatening.

“Hermosa?” His throaty gasp caught her attention, and she looked up again, meeting his questioning gaze in the mirror.

She nodded quickly. “¡Ahora!”

Without any resistance, he slid into her. She cried out, smiling at the absolute pleasure his invasion brought her. “Yes!” she cried out in English.

“Fuck!” he responded. “You’re so tight! Please, tell me I’m not hurting you!” His voice was desperate.

“Santiago,” she said, her voice breathy as she continued to pant. “Santiago, please, fuck me!”

And he did, his hips immediately thrusting into her at a steady and solid pace. She dropped her head, unable to keep on watching their reflection in front of her, her sole focus on the feelings his body was creating in hers. She was so full, but she wanted more. She pushed back into him, encouraging him without words to move faster. He responded by quickening his pace, but he grumbled at her as he did so. “I’m trying to take this slow, Querida.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at his words. “I don’t want slow. We can go slow next time!”

“Fuck, yeah!” he said, his grip on her hips tightening. “Next time!” He began to pound into her harshly, and she laughed again in pure joy. Yes!!!!

“Oh, Dios!” she cried. She was almost there!

Suddenly, he dropped one of his hands down, reaching around in front of her to tease her clit. “Come on my fucking cock!” he hissed in her ear.

His touch combined with his words sent her over the edge and she squeezed her eyes shut, feeling her body convulse, her pussy squeezing him tight, her legs tremoring. She saw stars. Or maybe they were fireflies. She wasn’t sure and she really didn’t care. She was crying, tears of ecstasy rolling down her cheeks. Her legs began to give out and Santiago moved his arm up to wrap around her waist, holding her tight against him.

When she was able to focus again, she realized he wasn’t moving. His cock was still buried deep inside her, but he was simply holding her. She looked up at him in the mirror, afraid and embarrassed of her reaction. He was smiling softly at her, his eyes wide and almost black with passion and… dare she think it? Love?

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he whispered.

She gathered her strength and straightened her legs, standing on her own again. His grip loosened, then he let her go completely and backed away, sliding out of her.

“No!” she couldn’t help but gasp. He wasn’t done. Just because she had had the most amazing orgasm of her life didn’t mean they were done!

His smile got bigger as he took her hand and led her toward the bed.

He sat on it and pushed himself back, laying down with his head on her pillows. His smile had turned into a smirk. “Come on, Cariño. You know what I want you to do.”

Yovanna climbed onto the bed on her knees and shuffled over to him. She threw one leg over his hips and settled on his thighs, his still rock-hard cock in front of her, teasing her super sensitive clit. Taking a deep breath, she rose up on her knees and grabbed his cock, then carefully mounted him. She was still so wet, he slid in easily, and she closed her eyes as she absorbed the feeling of him filling her once again, this time touching places he hadn’t in their previous position.

“Oh, yeah,” he murmured. “Perfect.”

She opened her eyes to see him looking to where they were joined. She also looked down, rather amazed that she could take him all, then she looked back at him. He was watching her now, and as she made eye contact with him, he lifted his hands toward her, fingers outstretched, in invitation.

She accepted, meeting his hands with her own, palm to palm, fingers intertwined once more. She began to rock, back and forth, with her hips. She leaned down to kiss him, bringing their joined hands up to rest just above his head on the pillow. He moaned into her mouth, letting her take control this time around, and apparently loving it. Eventually, they let go of each other so they could take their time touching each other. Yovanna played with his hair, running her fingers through it as she had imagined doing so many times before. Santiago let his fingers toy with her breasts, thumbing her nipples, then massaging her curves. They never stopped kissing.

As her rocking became faster, his hands moved down her back to her buttocks, the tips of his finger straying down to where they were joined, then up to tease her asshole briefly, making her squeal in surprise. It hadn’t been uncomfortable, she realized, just nothing she had tried before. Interesting. She pushed herself up straight once more, using her strong thighs to push herself up and down on him now. He also sat up, diving in to lick and suck on first her breasts, then her neck. He found her pulse point and began to suck hard; she knew he was marking her and didn’t care. Her bouncing increased in speed and his grip on her ass tightened.

“Fuck, I can’t hold it anymore,” he groaned.

“Don’t!” she told him. “Let go! Come for me!”

She felt his hips raise up off the bed as he ejaculated, finally coming. Dios, his stamina was amazing! As he let himself fall back onto the bed, Yovanna felt her own body start to tremble once more. This orgasm wasn’t as strong as her first, but it was no less satisfying. Breathing hard, she let herself fall forward and a little to the side, letting him slide out of her. He winced, then sat up to take care of the condom, tossing it in the waste basket next to the dresser. Then he fell back onto the bed, looking at her, a soft smile on his face.

She scooted close to him, tentatively putting her head on his shoulder, not sure how he felt about post-coital cuddling, but his arm wrapped around her immediately and he began to kiss her hair. They lay like this for a long time, letting their breathing and their hearts come back to normal. Yovanna became sleepy, but her brain soon started working overtime, and she was wide awake once more.

“Where are you staying?” she asked him.

“A little bed and breakfast on the other side of town,” he told her.

“You’re welcome to stay here,” she said softly.

“For how long?”

She lifted her head to look at him. “For however long you want.”

“With you?”

She shrugged. “Well, for a while. I’m planning on buying a house of my own, soon, but Emi—I mean Ezra, will probably stay here. So,” she gave him a teasing smile. “You can be roommates with him, or you can come live with me.”

He snorted a laugh. “Yeah, I’m sure he’d love if I stayed with him,” he said sarcastically.

“Then stay with me,” she told him, her voice soft but firm. “As long as you want.”

He was silent for a moment. “I know where the money is.”

She frowned at him.

He licked his lips. “Ironhead gave me the coordinates where we dumped it. In the mountains.” He was looking at her expectantly.

“How dangerous would it be to go back for it?” she asked carefully.

“Very,” he told her. “Not just because there are still people looking for it, but because the location it’s in is… treacherous.”

She bolstered herself for her next question. “And how much do you want it?”

He took a deep breath and pulled away from her. He slid off the bed and looked around until he found where his trousers had ended up, then he went over to them and pulled his wallet out from the back pocket. He opened it and took out a slip of paper. He dropped the pants and walked back over to where she was still lying on the bed, leaning on her elbow, her head propped on her hand as she watched him. He showed her the paper and she could see the coordinates on it. Then he reached for the long-stemmed lighter that sat on the dresser next to one of her scented candles. He lit it, then touched it to the paper, setting it on fire. He held onto it while most of it burned, then placed it on the candle, the remaining flame lighting the candle as it burned the last of the paper. He looked at her.

She gave him a half smile. “That’s a beautiful gesture,” she told him. “But do you really expect me to believe you don’t already have those numbers saved in your phone? Or even memorized in your head?”

He laughed. “Oh, come on! Let me have this dramatic moment!”

She laughed along with him, but soon he became serious once more.

“Give me a reason to not go back for that money,” he told her, the darkness from earlier appearing in his eyes once more.

She looked at him for a long moment. Then, in a trembling voice, she said, “I love you.”

His expression softened and his mouth opened as if he was stunned. He blinked rapidly, and Yovanna felt tears forming in her own eyes in response to his obvious emotion. He cleared his throat and bit his lower lip, but didn’t seem to know what to say. So, she sat up and continued.

“Stay here with me,” she told him. “Start a new life with me, away from pain and fear and anxiety.” She paused. “You’ve done more than enough, dealing with demons both real and in your mind. Let your body and your soul rest the way you deserve.” As his expression turned hopeful, she added, “Let me love you while we take care of each other.”

Slowly, he moved to lie next to her on the bed once more. “Forever?” he asked, his expression still full of such hope.

“Forever,” she told him.

“I love you, Yov—Katia,” he smiled softly as he corrected himself.

“And I love you, Santiago.”

“Yes, I’ll stay.”

Forever.

THE END

[scotianostra]

On 9th November 1769 The Fenwick Weaver’s Co-operative Society, the worlds first co-operative association, was founded.

In the Anglocentric education system that most of us older Scots grew up with we were told that the Yorkshire town of Rochdale were first to have a Co-op, this was in 1844. The truth of the matter is that The Fenwick Weavers' Society is considered to be the earliest known co-operative in the world for which full records exist about 75 years before the English claim.

The cooperative movement was born over 250 years ago in a barely-furnished cottage in the East Ayrshire village, when local weavers manhandled a sack of oatmeal into John Walker's whitewashed front room and began selling the contents at a discount.

In Yorkshire a sign on the railway bridge above the A664 leading into the town from the M62 states: "Rochdale: birthplace of cooperation", while the council's website describes the town as the "home of the worldwide cooperative movement", so I made a wee meme gif with the Still Game Neds to put hings right.

The Fenwick societies foundations started 8 years before when on 14th March 1761, 16 weavers met together in Fenwick Church to sign the foundation charter of the Fenwick Weavers’ Society. By signing the document, they agreed to its terms and conditions. These included ‘being honest and faithful to one another’ and to their employers, making 'good sufficient’ work, and setting prices that were 'neither higher nor lower … than are accustomed in the towns and parishes of the neighbourhood’.

The society members promised to pay an admission fee of two shillings and sixpence which was to be used for the good of the Society. Regular contributions to the poor fund were made from these shared investments. As well as offering mutual support to its members, the society aimed to bring benefit to the wider community.

On 9th November 1769, the society agreed that its funds should be used to buy, 'victuals’, or food, in bulk to be sold to members and non-members at a good price. In addition, members enjoyed the privilege of up to four weeks’ credit.

The society funds were also used to buy books and, in 1808, the members established a library for the local community. In the society records, there is also evidence of a form of 'credit union’, or community-based bank organised on co-operative principles. People could borrow money from the communal funds at a fixed rate of interest.

Sadly handloom weaving could not resist the advance of the factories and, in 1873, with only three members left, they wound up the Society. However, their memory lives on, both in the descendants of the Weavers now all over the globe, and also in our great world-wide Co-operative Movement with almost a billion co-operators affiliated to the International Co-operative Alliance.

The Society was reconvened in March 2008 and has been reconstituted as a co-operative, in legal form as an industrial and provident society, in order to record, collect and commemorate the heritage of the Fenwick Weavers.

The image with the transcript was the initial meeting from March 1761 you can read it in full at the link here https://www.nls.uk/learning-zone/politics-and-society/labour-history/fenwick-weavers/

[cumulo-stratus]

Rainy Love

(GIF NOT MINE)

Pairing: Spencer reid x Male reader

description: y/n has always loved the rain, and decides to share that love with spencer (ps this was idea was inspired by a fic by the lovely user @ssa-atlas-alvez <;3)

Content warnings: possible swearing (lemme know if theres anything else :))

flufftober day 2: love confession

It was a rainy day at the BAU. A very rainy day. The team members each sat at their own desk, quietly working away. But y/n, he was distracted- he had long since abandoned his paperwork for staring out the tall rectangular windows, longing to be feeling the effects of the rain pouring down on him. Every once in a while he would close his eyes and imagine the feeling of the cool raindrops pelting his skin.

Spencer, whose desk was closest to y/ns, was the first to notice y/n’s distracted state. Spencer decided to take the opportunity to talk to the man he had loved for years, but never told.

“Hey y/n, whats got you so distracted? are you okay?” there was that small knit between spencers brows that he always got when he was worried, which was a lot. Y/n thought this to himself, often being the one who noticed things like that about spencer. But y/n wouldn’t help himself, he was in love and it was involuntary.

Y/n’s attention was pulled away from the pattering rain outside by spencers question. “oh- y’a im fine spence, i was just distracted by the rain.” When y/n talks of the rain theres a fondness in his voice like that of someone talking about an old friend. “You know- i wish i could be out there right now. Id love to feel the rain on my skin.” very time y/n tries to put his attention back on spencer, hes drawn back to the window. Spencer notices y/ns fondness of the rain and decides to take advantage of the cluelessness of those around him and says to y/n with a mischievous smile “let’s go!” and offers up his hand to y/n, his palm open waiting for y/ns. Y/n looks at spencer confused for a moment and spencer elaborates; “out there!” with an excited gesture towards the rain pattering against the window, and then continues; “You obviously wanna go out there, no ones looking and i finished my paperwork 20 minutes ago!” Spencer gives up on waiting for y/n and just takes his hand pulling him up, out of his seat, and towards the big glass doors.

When the pair finally reach the front doors, y/n is the one to push them open. Having long since abandoned the idea of actually getting any work done for the rest of the day. Y/n pulls spencer by the arm out into the rain- and as y/n spread his arms out and loaded up with his eyes closed, quiet literally soaking in the rain. He found himself staring intently at Y/n, admiring everything about the man he’d come to love. Admiring the way the rain soaked his eyelashes, and the H/C hair that stuck to his forehead.

finally y/n opened his eyes again, only to find spencer staring at him. Spencer noticed Y/ns awareness of him and his cheeks went red. he looked down and y/n said “what you staring at goofball?” (y/n had almost immediately taken to calling spencer goofball when they met, and spencer never corrected him). Spencer felt a surge of reckless confidence surge through him and said “you.” without thinking. spencer, being the man he is- almost immediately regretted this action.but what took him by surprise was when y/n took spencers chin softly and pushed it up with his fingertips. In that moment the two made intense eye contact.

“ I love you y/n- i cant help myself..”

spencer trailed off at first but when y/n didnt respond he started nervously rambling. But Y/n was still processing the fact that the man he had loved for years, but never even considered the fact that he might love him back- was telling y/n that he loved him. When y/n could finally speak again he said;

“Stop.”

with a gentle sternness to his voice. And spencer stopped what he was saying and looked up at y/n desperately hoping that’s he hadn’t ruined the relationship with his best friend. But instead of yelling or screaming or telling spencer to never talk to him again, he simply said;

“I love you too goofball.”

and there they stood together, drenched to the bone, forehead to forehead. hands on each-other’s others hips.

The End

[crowsofdarkness]

Soldat: Chapter Seven

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader. Slight Steve Rogers x Female Agent! Reader

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, kidnapping, violence.

Summary: Agent Y/N has worked alongside Steve Rogers at SHIELD for some time all while keeping a dark secret from everyone. Until one day that darkness faces her head on and she's forced to make a choice. Continue fighting along side Captain America? Or find her home once again with Soldat?

Authors Note: This was originally published on my old blog as a trilogy so I will be in the slow process of adding it to this blog. This is the first of the trilogy and will take place during The Winter Soldier. If anyone is interested in being tagged, let me know!

Very slight implied smut in this chapter, very tame. Also, there are three chapters left! Once Soldat is complete, I will begin posting the next in the series.

Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox @that-blonde-girl

Soldat Masterlist

Day One 

Eyes fluttered open softly, allowing the light to blind me for a few seconds as I stared up at the crackling ceiling. I followed the lines, hoping that it would lead me to an idea where I was but came up empty as I realized I was in a room with no windows, one door, and the lone cot I was currently laying on. My heart thumped in fear as I tried to remember how I ended up here. 

I was drinking in a bar in Siberia as I was going over my notes for the local terrorist group I was following. I was alone for most of the night until a strange man came up beside me, gun pressed to my side, muttering in my ear that I had to go with him or else.

The last thing I could remember was getting thrown into the back of a van and darkness. The watch on my wrist indicated that happened..

Sixteen hours ago?!

“What the fuck happened to me?” I groaned, clutching my forehead. 

The door clicked open, men dressed in European military uniforms catching my immediate attention. 

“Where am I?” I spoke in the native tongue. 

They ignored me, continuing on with their own conversation and paid no attention as they stood guard at the door, guns slightly drawn. 

Discreetly, I slid my hand down my calf trying to feel if the knife I stashed into my boot was still there. 

“You think we would leave you with a weapon?”

A small man entered the room now, glasses perched high on his nose. He gently removed his hat, handing it to one of the guards before sitting on a chair in front of my cot. 

“Who are you?” I questioned. 

He merely tsk’d before pulling a grey folder from his briefcase. “Y/N L/N. You’ve been an agent with the FBI for almost two years now and you’ve only been on one case. Why is that?” 

“Is that a file on me?” My eyes landed on the file.

“You were on New York SWAT for three years before this but had to leave for ‘different opinions’ pertaining to a rather personal case.” 

“That’s no one's business but my own,” I snapped. “You shouldn’t even have that information.” 

“I’m a very powerful man, Ms. L/N. I have many ways to get the information I want. Just like how you got info about me.” 

“Am I supposed to know who you are?” I squinted my eyes at him. 

“You’ve been looking for me for the last six months. I thought we could finally meet.” He gave me a small smile. 

“Wait,” my eyes widened. “You’re Dr. Zola? I thought you were dead. That’s why it’s been so hard to find you.” 

The older gentleman clicked his tongue against his teeth. “No, not Zola. But his apprentice. You can call me Dr. Berge” 

“Why did you kidnap me? To shut me up?” I crossed my arms over my chest, foot shaking with nerves. 

Dr. Berge handed one of the guards the folder before shaking his head. “Our last student didn’t make it. We needed someone new.” 

“Stu-student?” I stuttered. 

“Yes, for Soldat.” Bergenodded. 

“Soldat?” 

He answered my question with a wave; a new man entered the small room. My tired eyes raked in his appearance from head to toe. He was dressed in combat boots and black cargo pants. His broad chest was covered in a black vest, various pockets that held God only knew what, his long brown hair was falling into his eyes but did nothing to fix it. The only thing that held my gaze, however, was his left arm. It wasn’t like his right; this one was made entirely of metal. 

“Who’s this?” I questioned, voice shaking with fear. 

“Ah Soldat, meet your new student. Hopefully she’ll last longer than the last one.” Berge clapped his hands before leaving the room. 

Soldat remained in place, a few feet away from me, and he slowly nodded to the guards. 

“Leave us,” he demanded in Russian. 

Suddenly, it was just him and I, my fear being the only thing you could feel in the room by my heart beating faster and faster. 

“What am I your student for?” I mustered to ask. 

“To fight.”

Day 23 

“I need a minute,” I gasped for air as I tried to gain some space. 

“You don’t have a minute.” Soldat reminded me as he flipped me over his shoulder, my own falling hard to the mat below. 

It had been a hell of a couple of weeks. I had been captured by who I had come to find was the terrorist group I had been searching for; Hydra. 

Every morning and night, Soldat would come to my room and train me for hours, fighting non stop. I had yet to find out why I was being trained to fight. 

Soldat barely said a word to me during these training sessions. He was instructed to train me not to make small talk. I couldn’t get a read on him, what his story was or how he ended up here. 

“Mother fucker,” I cursed, clutching my shoulder. “I think it’s dislocated.” 

Soldat remained silent, roughly pulling me to my feet and snapped my arm back into place causing a scream to erupt from my throat. 

“That’s enough!” I screamed pushing my palms into his chest. “I’m done! No one has told me why I’m here, getting my ass kicked by a guy with a fucking metal arm!” 

A small smile pulled at his lips and all the anger from being held captive here built up causing me to bring my hand back, wiping that smile off his face with my fist. 

Regret filled me when I saw the quick flash of anger cloud his eyes but his deep laugh relaxed my shoulders a tad. 

“That’s more like it.” He muttered while rubbing his jaw. 

“I already know how to fight. I don’t need someone to teach me,” I admitted, fists clenched at my sides. 

Soldat nodded. “Then next time should be easy for you.” 

Day 37

The chill in the air caused me to wrap the blanket closer to me as I dug myself deeper into the bed that I started calling my own. I was unsure of the time but the tiredness in my bones made me believe it was time to let sleep succumb to me. 

A soft sigh left my lips as my mind wandered yet again to the man that had been clouding it the past few weeks. 

It had been almost two weeks since my last training session with Soldat. He stopped coming by in the mornings and nights which made me wonder if our sessions were over and what that meant for me. 

That thought was short-lived when Berge brought in someone else to train me. He didn’t want me to forget anything while Soldat was away. 

Rumor had it, Hydra sent him away from some mission. 

Besides the one old guard that would bring my food twice a day, Soldat was the only constant thing in this prison that had become my home. 

Heavy eyes fluttered shut, breaths becoming deeper and heavier and the long awaited sleep was so close. But the door to my room slamming open caused my eyes to snap open and I pushed myself to my knees. I watched as Soldat entered, anger clear on his face. 

“Where have you-.” 

The air to my lungs was constricted as Soldat wrapped his metal fingers around my throat, slamming me deeper into the cot. 

I trashed against his body, nails digging into the skin of his flesh arm, not bothering him an inch. I racked my brain for all the training he had taught me to try and get out of this. I attempted to wrap my legs around his waist to flip him but he was two seconds ahead of me, his flesh hand pining my hips down onto the bed. 

My body began to sweat with the fear of what was about to come. 

I wrapped a hand around his metal wrist as I looked into his eyes, the light far gone from them. 

“Soldat,” I choked out. 

The air suddenly rushed back into my lungs causing me to cough uncontrollably as he finally let go, the bruises already starting to form I was sure. 

His hand and hips kept me locked into place on the bed and his other hand gripped my chin, forcing me to look in his eyes. 

“You only train with me. No one else can have you.” His voice demanded through gritted teeth. 

Once I could breathe again, I gave him a sorrowful nod. “I’m sorry.” 

We stayed in this position for a few more beats, his hips locking mine into place while his eyes bore into my own. His chest rose and fell with each breath, mimicking my own in the small tank top I wore; it was one of the few clothes that Hydra had lent me. 

Soldat’s eyes traveled over the swell of my breasts and I felt the heat spread down to my core as he slowly ran his tongue over his bottom lip. 

“Get some sleep. We’re starting early tomorrow,” he breathed before pushing himself off of me. 

The room had a sudden chill to it as soon as he left the room and after wrapping myself into a cocoon with my blanket, I found myself falling asleep wishing it was his arms

Day 56

Chains dragged behind me as I followed the path the two guards were leading me on. We turned a corner and continued down another long hallway. They had dragged me out of bed this morning, muttering something about getting some “fresh air”. 

I chuckled at their definition of fresh air; it was a small sunroom with a few potted plants and one large bench seat. Thankfully the bright sunlight beamed through the glass windows, spreading warmth into my skin. 

“Ten minutes,” one of the guards demanded while tossing me a book. 

They took their post on the outside of the door, backs turned to me, and I opted for not reading the book deciding I would rather stare out of the windows. This was the first time in almost two months that I had been granted access to the outside world. 

Sort of. 

The beautiful images of mountains scattered the skyline, the fresh snow blowing in the wind. I walked closer to the windows, peering down below and that was when I realized I was high up. 

Wherever I was being held captive was on top of a mountain. 

“Beautiful.” 

Jumping at the deep voice, I looked over my shoulder and a small smile came to my face. 

“Soldat, you’ve returned.” 

He nodded, tucking a strand of hair out of his face. “I returned last night.” 

“How was your mission?” 

His silence was enough of an answer I needed. 

“Have you been training?” He questioned, still keeping a safe distance between us. 

Immediately I shook my head, the chains rattling. “They won’t let me while you're away. You’re the only one I can train with.”

Soldat turned his head, eyes taking in the appearance of the chains around my wrists and ankles. A scowl appeared underneath the stubble covering his mouth and he beckoned me over with a finger. 

Swallowing thickly, I tried the best I could to walk over to him, feet coming to a halt in front of him. He gripped the chains with his metal fingers, breaking them off of me with ease. 

“You’re not a monster,” he muttered. 

I rubbed away the red marks on my wrists while giving him a smile of thanks. “What will happen to you once they find out?”

“You should get some rest, we have a big training session tomorrow.” Soldat spoke, ignoring my question. 

I wondered with fear what exactly they would do to him. Every time he would arrive back from a mission, his screams would echo through the base, keeping me awake at night. I yearned to be with him, comfort him. He was the only constant in my life now, I would do anything to be with him; to keep him from pain. 

“Will you sit with me?” I nodded to the bench. “We don’t need to talk, just your company is enough.” 

His body tensed, a bit hesitant, before he nodded and we both sat down with our knees a few spaces away from each other. I reached for the book and felt his gaze burn deep into the side of my head as I quietly read the pages, Russian almost becoming a second language to me. 

We sat in silence, Soldat’s eyes watching me as I carefully turned the pages of the book, enjoying the quiet company of the man who would scare others. 

“Soldat, do you know what this word is? I haven’t come across this one yet.” 

I pointed towards a word in the book that was giving me trouble and felt the heat radiate off of him as he leaned closer to me, his shoulder brushing against my own. 

“Dorogaya. It means my darling.” 

My core twitched at the Russian translation and I coughed, trying to mask my arousal. “Thank you.” 

“Dorogaya,” he repeated, this time more quietly to himself. 

Day 85

“Faster! Harder!”

I let the screams of slight encouragement fuel me as I landed my fists into Soldat’s bare stomach, the force behind my punches doing nothing to phase him. 

He reached for my neck but I swiftly ducked while spinning on my heels, tripping him in the process. Soldat landed hard on his back, the wind being knocked out of him, and I straddled his hips with my own, my hands pinning his own above his head. 

Our breaths matched in sync, eyes boring into each other, and the sight of the smirk on his face made my heart nearly burst out of its cage. 

“I win,” I breathed, my breath fanning over his bare chest. 

My fingers itched want to run all over his grooves and muscles. Resisting the urge, I released my grip on his hands but felt the world turn as Soldat gripped my hips, slamming me on my back. His dark eyes stared down at mine, tongue rolling antagonizing slowly between his lips. He leaned closer to my own, his warm breath breathing life into me. 

“I let you win.” 

“Oh really,” I cheekily asked, a flirtatious smirk pulling at my lips. 

Soldat nodded with his nose brushing against my own. “Of course, dorogaya.” 

My heart fluttered at the pet name he had given me. Ever since our time in the sun room together, we had slowly started becoming closer with each and every training session. I was, however, afraid to take it farther than our flirtatious comments and soft touches. I wouldn’t allow him to get in trouble, or worse; hurt. Just because of how I felt about him. 

His metal fingers traced down from my cheek to my neck and rested above the lines of my breasts. My breath became erratic when the lightly brushed over my left nipple, perky already due to the coldness of the building. Fingers dug through his locks and gave a slight tug causing a groan to vibrate low in Soldat’s chest. 

“Are you leaving again?” I asked. 

He shook his head while palming my breast and I allowed a moan to slip through my lips.

“I told them no more missions until our training is done,” He spoke low. 

I nodded. 

“We really should stop. Before they find us.” I stuttered, not wanting him to stop kneading my breast with his hand. 

“Let them, they can’t do anything to hurt me that they haven’t done before,” Soldat breathed into the skin of my neck. 

He nipped and sucked there, leaving his mark to show the others here who I belonged to. My hands ran down the thickness of his back and I pressed my hips up into his, a loud hiss breaking its way out of his throat. 

“Dorogaya,” Soldat moaned. 

My fingers traced up his back, slowly fading over where his skin met metal. His body tensed, the lust in the air immediately dissipating as he pushed his body off of me. I was left alone on the dirty floor of my room as I watched him grab his shirt, throwing it over his chest. 

“Did I do something?” I questioned, sitting to my knees. 

“I need to go,” he grunted. 

“Soldat,” I stood to my feet now, “Please tell me if I did something!” 

He ignored my cries of wonder, letting the door slam behind him and drowning out my quiet sobs. 

Day 124

No more training sessions. 

Berge had told me that I was done training with Soldat. He had too many missions to go on and not enough time to give to me. Doubt racked my brain if that was truly the reason why they wouldn’t allow him to train me anymore. They must have found out about us. 

I couldn’t dwell on it for long, Berge assigned another guard to my training. He wasn’t anything compared to Soldat; he was quiet and wouldn’t allow me the chance to improve. Only wanting to show off his strength. We had moved the training sessions in the main area of the compound, in front of every eye. But the only eyes that mattered were the ones that I wanted approval of. 

Soldat would watch from a distance, not bothering to step in when the new trainer would hit me a little too hard. I wouldn’t let that phase me, though. I gave it back a hundred times harder which would only anger him more. 

Which is how I ended up sporting a black eye for the last week. 

Soldat almost stepped in when the new trainers hand grazed lower and lower from my back with each session. Earlier today, we had been sparring in front of all of the other guards and I did my best to ignore their gawks of stares as I attempted to land a strike to his stomach. He was a step ahead of me, twisting my wrist behind my back and pulling me into his chest. I felt his rapid breathing against my back as he leaned his lips against my ear. 

“I love the way your ass fits against me,” He groaned. 

I knew if I tried anything he would twist my arm higher up so I stood frozen in fear while my eyes traveled to the man in the corner, giving him silent pleads for help. 

Soldat turned his back on me. 

After the sparring session, I retreated back to my room, a broken woman. My ego was hurt that I had succumbed so low to these beatings in front of other men. My heart was broken that the one man I had fallen hard for wanted nothing to do with me.

A soft groan left my lips as I stared out into the darkness of the room, sleep being the farthest thing from my mind. 

“God, Y/N you’ve got to move on from him,” I ran a hand over my face with a very unattractive groan leaving my lips. 

“Talking to yourself again?” 

Sitting up in bed, I turned on the bedside lamp and made out a large silhouette standing by the door. But even in the soft darkness, the metal arm was hard to miss. 

“What are you doing here?” I questioned. 

Soldat stepped closer, stopping at the foot of my bed. “I’ve come to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye?” My voice shook with fear. 

I then noticed he was dressed in his tac gear which meant only one thing. 

“You’re going on a mission?” 

He nodded. “I’ll be back by tomorrow night.” 

Pulling my knees to my chest, I raised my brow at him. “You’ve never said goodbye before.”

“I wanted to see you.” He gave a small shrug of his broad shoulders. 

“Oh,” I mouthed.

I allowed silence to overcome us as we both stared at one another, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. My palms began to sweat seeing the fire behind his eyes and I absentmindedly bit my lip. 

Soldat ran a hand through his hair before a quiet fuck it slipped from his lips. He kicked off his boots before crawling his way towards me on the bed. 

“What are you doing?” I asked. 

He ignored my question, only rolling onto his back while pulling me into his chest and his arms wrapping around me. The rapid beating of his heart told me that he was nervous but still kept his arms tightly around me. 

“I’ve been on hundreds of missions but now,” Soldat started, “Now, I’m worried about leaving you. With them.” 

“I’ll be fine. You’ve taught me well.” I gave his sides a small squeeze. 

“I’ve never felt this way before. It’s all new to me.” He admitted. 

“What is?” 

Instead of using words, Soldat’s fingers grazed my chin and pulled my face up to look into his eyes. He took a deep breath before he gently placed his plump lips over mine. The hairs on his chin and face tickled me as our lips moved slowly in sync. 

My heart thumped through its cage in my chest as I ran my fingers through his hair, deepening the kiss. His own hands found their way over my stomach, down to my core and slowly ghosted over it. 

“Soldat, please.” I moaned. 

“You’re mine.” He grunted, fingers finally touching my heated core over my shorts. “All mine.” 

“Only yours, I promise.” 

My breath hitched in my throat when I felt the heat of his fingers against the skin of my stomach, brushing over the waistband of my shorts. While his flesh ones worked with the ties of my shorts, his metal one pulled the ends of my hair, forcing my eyes away from his work on my shorts. 

“I’ll come back to you.” He vowed. 

I nodded. 

“I know you will and I’ll be here waiting for you. Always.” 

Soldat brushed his lips against mine, tongue delving between my lips and danced with my own as the kiss intensified. 

“I have to go.” He groaned against me. 

“Stay.” I begged, clutching onto his arms. 

“It’s my mission.” 

Pulling away reluctantly, I gripped his chin and stared into his eyes. “Please be safe.” 

“Of course, dorogaya.” 

Day 131

Seven days. 

One week. 

168 hours. 

That’s how long it had been since I last saw Soldat. 

He had yet to return from his mission and what originally was supposed to be a one night mission turned into one week. 

I sat on the edge of my cot with my knee bouncing in worry as I chewed roughly on my bottom lip. I feared that Berge had found out about Soldat and I, which was the reason why he had yet to return. 

“Where the hell are you?” I muttered. 

I waited a little while longer, eyes trained hard on the door, hoping that he would bust through any moment. But after a few minutes of nothingness, I turned my back to the door only for it to open a second later. 

“Come with me.” 

My eyes squinted towards the guard, confusion well on my face. “Where are you taking me? I haven’t left in a whole week.” 

“Soldat’s orders.” The guard ordered. 

My heart rate sped up at the mention of his name. “Is he back?” 

“No but he’s requested that you stay in his living quarters now.” 

“Wh-what? Why?” I sputtered. 

“As a reward for completing his mission. Come now.” 

The guard quickly waved me to follow and not wanting to live another minute in this tiny hell, I scrambled to my feet and followed. Not bothering to take anything with me, I tracked close behind the guard as we turned a few more corners, coming to a stop at a lone door at the end of the hallway. 

The guard grunted towards the door before leaving me alone, my steady breaths coming in and out of my nose as I took a second to gain my bearings. In the months that I had been held captive here, I had never seen Soldat’s room; or anything else besides my room, the sparing center, and the “outside” room I was allowed to sit in every few days. 

My hand gently grasped the cold knob and taking one last breath, I slowly pushed the door open. Before my feet crossed the threshold, I gazed around the room taking in every inch of Soldat’s private space. 

It wasn’t big by any means, it would definitely be crowded with the two of us, however it warmed my heart knowing that we would be sharing that bed together. The bed was only made for one and was even small for Soldat. 

Next to the bed was a table that mirrored the one I had in my room. On the top of the table rested a small lamp and a book that looked like it was read ten times over. On the other side of the room was a small dresser that had more books resting on it and next to the dresser was a door that led to somewhere I was unsure of. The large window on one wall allowed the sunset to stream in, painting the entire room in a golden light. 

My gaze rested on a pair of clothes that were neatly folded on the chair in the other corner of the room. Taking a breath, I crossed over the threshold into Soldat’s room and grasped the pair of clean clothes in my hands. It was only a new pair of jeans, underwear, and a long sleeve shirt but the soft fabric was enough to bring me to tears. I had only been given new clothes once since being here and that was the first night. 

“It’s not much but it’s home.” 

Jumping at the deep voice, I turned on my heels and felt my heart leap to my throat. Soldat stood at the doorway, his body a clear indication of the toll the mission put on him. Stray hairs had fallen from the low bun he had pulled them in, the lines on his face screamed that he hadn’t slept in days, and his tac gear was covered in dirt and blood, the blood had also covered his metal arm in streams. Fear raked my body, wondering whose blood was all over Soldat and I bit my lip to stop from asking. 

“You’re back,” I breathed. 

He remained silent, his intense gaze taking over my body. His body tensed when he fell on my lips, the sight of the two cuts burning into his brain. 

“What happened?” 

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I shifted on my feet. “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.” 

“What happened?” Soldat questioned again, this time closing the distance between us. 

Metal fingers gripped my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes as they danced over my face. Anger flashed across them when the soft words left my busted lips. 

“Ben didn’t appreciate getting beat by a girl.” 

“What did he do?” Soldat demanded. 

“He just hit me a little too hard. I’m fine, Soldat.” I reassured him as I gripped his flesh arm. 

The anger still flooded his veins and I linked my fingers with his metal ones, fearing he would leave me and do something we would both regret. 

“You need to get yourself cleaned up,” I encouraged. 

Soldat was still silent, only giving me a small nod as he pulled me with him towards the closed door. 

“What?” I questioned. 

“You need a bath.” He demanded. 

Licking my lips, I let the fear of him seeing my bare flesh push away the thoughts of us in the bath together.

“No, you can go first Soldat. The blood is going to take awhile to clean.” I lied, hoping that would keep the thought of us naked together out of his head. 

I was afraid of what he would think when he saw the bruises and scars that covered my body. 

His eyes hardened, seeing right through my lies, as he gripped my arm causing a loud hiss to pass through my lips. 

“Fuck,” I cursed pulling my arm to my chest. 

He didn’t grip me that hard, I knew that. It only hurt because of the bruise that covered half of my forearm. 

“Take off your shirt.” 

The soles of my shoes were frozen to my spot, being weighed down with the fear of what Soldat was about to see.

“Sol-.” I started. 

“Take it off,” his voice was deeper and rougher. 

Gnawing on my bottom lip, shaky fingers gripped the bottom of my shirt, slowly raising it over my stomach and head, letting it fall to the floor in silence. Instinctively my arms wrapped around my chest, trying to cover as much as I could. Soldat didn’t make me uncomfortable; the idea of showing him my battle scars is what did. 

His dark eyes were now almost black as he looked over my bareness of flesh, taking in every inch of bruises and new scars that had yet to heal over my stomach, chest, and arms. The blood had dried hours ago but the exhaustion of today’s training had stopped me from cleaning my wounds. 

My mouth dried with the intensity radiating from Soldat’s body. 

“We-uh, Ben decided to start the knife training today. He wouldn’t let me get a chance to prove myself. He kept stabbing and slicing,” I admitted quietly. 

Soldat's tongue grazed over his bottom lip and nodded to the door behind me. “We need to clean those wounds.” 

“Are you upset?” 

The tone in his voice answered my question before I even asked it but I needed to make sure he wouldn’t leave, do something stupid. 

He remained silent, beckoning me to follow him with a snap of his head. Obeying with a soft sigh, I trailed behind him into the bathroom that was connected to his room. The soft breeze coming from the vents caused me to wrap my arms around my bare chest, trying to keep the warmth in. I could see the way Soldat’s muscles in his back tensed as he leaned over, running hot water and letting it fill the tub. The steam danced around his head as he peeked over his shoulder, nodding towards my pants. 

The silence was thickening and my fingers gripped the top of my pants, slowly pulling them down my legs; the new visions of bruises and scars clouding Soldat’s vision. The only thing keeping me from bearing it all to him was a thin piece of fabric. Soldat turned on his knees, face inches from my core, and goosebumps rose to my skin as I felt his finger slide my underwear down over my knees and I stepped out of them. He tossed them to the side while keeping his eyes trained hard on me as he looked up into my own. 

“Get in.” Soldat’s flesh fingers tapped the back of my thigh, his warm breath brushing against my heated core. 

The water immediately eased the sore muscles and wounds as I submerged myself, pulling my knees to my chest. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see Soldat stripping himself of his own clothes before I felt the water slosh behind me. Metal fingers wrapped around my middle pulling me into a hard chest. We sat in silence as he first cleaned me then him. 

“I should have been here,” his words mumbled against the skin of my shoulder as he pressed a soft kiss there. 

“You needed to go on your mission.” I reminded him. 

“I will kill him.” He vowed. 

I hushed him with a soft squeeze of his thigh, fingers resting easily over the mass of them. “I’ll be alright.” 

“You’re coming with me on the next mission.” 

I smiled at the softness in his voice. 

“I don’t think Berge will like that.” I admitted. 

Soldat took a damp cloth to my legs and stomach, cleaning the wounds with soft touches. 

“They can kill me to try and stop me.” Soldat deadpanned. 

I opened my mouth to protest but he silenced me with a kiss to my forehead, whispering promises of him saving me, protecting me, no matter what the cost will be. 

“I missed you, dorogaya.”Soldat breathed, his cock hardening against the small of my back. 

“I missed you too,” I moaned. 

His fingers grazed over my core underneath the water, rubbing circles over my clit. His lips attached to my neck, leaving his mark for all to see. 

“I need you.” 

The water splashed out of the tub as Soldat lifted me out and carried me bridal style into his bedroom. I fell to the bed with a soft sigh and my eyes took in the God-like form of Soldat, his dick twitching with anticipation. I took in every groove and line of his muscles, the way they tensed under the light as he stood in front of me. 

“Soldat,” I begged, “I can’t wait anymore.” 

“Say your mine.” He commanded. 

“I’m yours.” 

“Good girl,” Soldat praised while his metal fingers stroked his already hard cock. 

He slowly climbed up the bed, laying soft kisses over the skin of my legs and thighs on his way up. My body shook with the want of his body on mine, skin on skin underneath the moonlight from outside. 

That night, our bodies linked together in pure bliss and adoration for one another. Our moans that bounced off the walls were a proclamation of our growing love for each other. 

That night was the first and last time Soldat and I made love.

 Day 132-The last day. 

Eyes slowly blinked open as I patted the spot next to me, finding it empty and cold. My brows pulled together in confusion as I looked around the room trying to figure out where Soldat had gone. I groaned at the soreness between my legs as I sat up in bed, clutching the sheet tighter to my chest. The memories of last night clouded my vision and my cheeks reddened remembering all the ways Soldat’s fingers and mouth had pleasured me. 

The door had burst open causing me to jump at the sight of the man that had entered. 

“Where did you–?” 

“You have to go; leave.” Soldat rushed while handing me my clothes. 

“What?” Tears started to well up in my eyes. 

“You need to leave, now. It’s not safe for you anymore.” Soldat demanded. 

Rising from the bed, I let the sheet fall to the floor before quickly dressing. 

“What are you talking about?” 

Soldat ran a hand over his tired face before a loud sigh left his lips. “Berge has plans for you that I will not let happen. You need to leave here.” 

“Plans?” I croaked. “What plans?” 

“There’s a door on the other end of the compound that I always leave through to go on my missions. I left it unlocked last night. Once you’re outside, run west for 5 miles. There will be a gas station where you can call for a ride.” 

Soldat ignored my questioning pleads as he handed me a pair of his boots and a jacket to keep me warm once I was outside. 

“No, Soldat. I’m not leaving you.” 

“It’s not up for discussion. You’re leaving.” He demanded. 

“I won’t leave you. I love-.”

My confession was short lived as we heard voices yelling from down the hallway. Soldat cursed before pulling me into his chest. His plump lips brushed against my forehead while his hands wrapped around my back, giving a hard squeeze. My fingers gripped tight his vest, the fear of leaving him weighing heavy on my chest. 

“I can’t leave you, Soldat.” I confessed. 

“Wait ten minutes then take a left at the end of the hallway, the door to your escape will be the last one on the left.” 

Soldat pulled away from me, strong eyes staring into my sad ones. His pink lips stood out from underneath the stubble that had grown since the last time I had seen him. I unknowingly reached out for him as he took a step away from me. 

“Soldat,” I sobbed. “Please don’t make me leave.” 

“Stay safe, Dorogaya.”  

We shared one last loving glance before I watched him turn his back on me, walk down the hall and out of my life. 

Those ten minutes had passed by antagonizing slowly and now matter how much I wanted to stay here with Soldat, I knew that he was looking out for my safety. We both knew the kind of man Berge was and if whatever he had planned for me scared even Soldat, I knew I had to trust him. 

Regretfully, my feet took me down the way that Soldat had instructed me. They froze, however, when I noticed commotion coming from the room to my left; the one I had to pass in order for me to reach my freedom. 

“Get him in the chair!” 

“Sir, it’s been months since we’ve wiped him. We don’t know the risks!” 

“I don’t care about the risks! He needs to forget her!” 

Slowly peeking from around the corner, I watched in fear as four men struggled to get Soldat in a chair that sat in the middle of the room. No matter how much he had fought the men, Soldat gave up in the end, falling into the chair with a groan. 

When his broken eyes landed on me, his chest rose in fear and he motioned to the door, begging me to leave. 

“I’m sorry,” I mouthed. 

Not wanting to stick around and see what they were about to do to him, no matter how much I loved him, I ran down the hallway and out of the prison I had called home for the last 132 days. And away from the one and only man that would haunt my dreams every single night for the next three years.

[bronx-bomber87]

Happy Weekend everyone :) Whew we are almost halfway through s3 already it's crazy. I love how when we get little content the previous ep the next one has loads. This is Lucy’s first real foray into UC. Seeing that deeper Harper/Lucy bond. Tim’s freak out and protectiveness. Such a good one for so many reasons. So many more gifs I wanted to use but sadly Tumblr keeps me to 30. They need to up that ha Oh well let’s get this started.

3x06 Revelations

Our ep starts out with Tamara and Lucy. Lucy making sure she gets at least one good dinner for the week. I just love their relationship so much. Tamara was such a good addition to the show. Adding some extra depth for Lucy. She is an excellent pseudo mom to her. Tamara asks if she can interview Lucy for a paper for school. Has to do with women in male dominated fields.

Lucy is adorable in her reply saying she's honored she’s asking her. How far these two have come. Lucy says she should be off early tomorrow. Let's Tamara know she’s just doing site security with Tim. It’s for the CCOA. Basically a convention for UC cops. I did love her saying ‘My Sergeant’ when explaining her work plans tomorrow. Made me happy. Yes he is. In more ways than one. Heh

We first join our lovely duo running security checks at the entrance. Lucy asking if Tim does this every year? Tim tells her no but he went with Isabel once to this. Look our boy bringing up Isabel casually. Being the one to and not have it bring him down. I'm so proud of him. Doesn’t phase him like it used to. Not only that but he’s cracking jokes over here.

Saying he just worked on his tan while Isabel attended seminars haha Replying to her question about what they teach here with sass. Tim tells her he has no idea but he's clearly having fun with his reply. Lucy still isn’t used to his sassy side. Her reaction above says it all. You did this lady hehe Enjoy the fruits of your labor madam.

Their lighthearted moment is interrupted by an old friend of Tim’s. He drives up like a bat out of hell. Tim is excited to see him (at first...) Tim is in such a good mood when he rolls up. Just outside cracking jokes with his girl having a good time. Even introduces Lucy (by her first name BTW) to his friend proudly. Shortly after their reunion Tim realizes the girl in the car is not his wife….

She blatantly hits on him calling him pretty. I mean he is. Look at the man. I’ve said before he is sex on stick. Mack notes he only gets prettier with age. He's not wrong...it’s true. Loved Eric since his DOOL days. Was in love with him then as a teenager and even more so now ha So that is accurate. Aged like a fine ass wine. *chef kiss*

Tim pulls Mack aside and wants to talk. Lets him know if he wants to run around on his wife that's his business. But he looks high as a kite. I love the way Lucy watches the interaction. Already in protect Tim emotionally mode. Mack tells him it's just oxy. He got hurt on the job month ago and the pain is a bear.

He takes off before Tim can say more and the look of worry on Lucy's face only increases. She can tell Tim is shook up about seeing his old friend this way. It’s affecting him more than he would like. I think he must’ve been in the academy with Tim. To watch someone you used to be close fall from grace is never easy to watch. Especially when it's so closely related to what Isabel was like.

Lucy spies on Harper giving a lecture to potential female UC’s in the making. You can see her interest is piqued. Harper even spots her before she shuts the door. Cracks me up the way she jumps when Tim catches her. I always love me some arm crossed disapproving Tim. Mmm. gimme. His emotions are written all over his face. They honestly color his attitude for almost the entirety of this episode. He’s not upset she snuck a peak. He’s upset she’s interested in UC. The way he looks back that that sign says it all. A sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach has settled and its not going anywhere.

This next scene we start to see Tim’s demons about UC surface a little. That good mood of his is long gone. He immediately confronts her about it. Asking her if she was spying in on seminars? She can’t lie to save her life when he looks at her. She adorably replies maybe…She's so excited by the prospect of UC she isn’t picking up on the stress Tim is throwing down in this scene.

He chews her out a little for spying and why it was wrong. I think we all know this has zero to do with the spying. That it 100 percent has to do with the subject matter that’s peaked her interest. He is trying to cut this off at the pass. He is not remotely excited about her being interested in UC at all..

We return to our couple reporting to Mack’s room. His wife Beth is banging on the door. His mistress won’t let her in. Tim doesn't have time for this and kicks the door down. Oh my. He runs inside and sees Mack has OD’d. Lucy goes and gets the Narcan to revive him. Mack comes to and is begging his wife to stay. He is so very out of it. His wife storms off saying she can’t do this anymore. Ugh poor Tim. The look he shares with Lucy kills me. The pre-tears and all. The fact that he's upset and looks back at her for support. My heart. This was not how he envisioned spending this day. It was supposed to be an easy security site job that turned into so much more.

Tim rejoins Mack at the hospital. He is so very angry with him. His pre-tears are killing me in these scenes with Mack. Poor Tim this ep is bringing up a lot of demons for him. Ones he truly thought he was putting behind him. Not just UC ones either. Telling Mack he’s not making the same mistakes he did with Isabel. Tim has made major strides when it comes to her but those scars still linger. They’re not gone and probably never will be fully. I’m sure he still tortures himself about his inaction with her. He won't do that again. To Tim this is a way to make up for that. Atone for that sin.

Lucy is leaving for the day when she spots Harper waiting at her car. Now I said when Harper joined the show how excited I was. That her and Lucy’s relationship was one of those reasons. These are the moments that I love so much. Harper is straight with her and says 'You know we’re gonna have to talk about it right?' Clearly referring to her sneaking a peak.

Lucy thinks Harper is there to scold here just like Tim did. The beautiful thing about this scene is she doesn’t. Nyla encourages and supports her UC aspirations. This is where she becomes her UC mentee really. After Lucy explains why she peaked in Harper can’t help but want to help Lucy with this.

Can sense her genuine excitement about it. Even agrees to drinks to talk about it. Hell it’s her idea how far we’ve come ❤️ Lucy postpones her interview with Tamara to go out with Nyla. Harper then gets a distress call from one of her old UC contacts. Asks if Lucy wants to come instead of a rain check on drinks? She jumps on this offer immediately. Wanting to see first hand what an operation is like.

Harper sends Lucy into the bar solo while she spots the tail on her friend. Lucy looks so amped to prove herself. She finds June or ‘Coco’ as she’s known right now at the bar. Sato joins the table immediately after Lucy does. Obviously he is the tail June has been worried about. The balls on Lucy in this moment. If Tim could see her right now he would have a friggin heart attack. Lucy throws a damn drink in his face.

She covers her ass so well and pretends she’s the chemist. Really smart move on her end. Even though he buys Lucy’s story Sato and his guard make them both move outdoors. Harper is waiting in the wings like the BAMF she is. Takes out Sato’s guard easily. Harper tells Coco there’s a tracker on her car. They must be cops. Sato is now the one in trouble saying they’re not. Salonga his boss just wanted them surveilled.

Coco up's the price for pissing them off. He tells them if they do the price hike Lucy better be at the buy. Harper tries to shield Lucy. Telling them she doesn’t go on buys. Lucy jumps in and says she’ll go. That she's already spent her share in her head. Shocking both Harper and June. If Tim could see this he would be losing his damn mind. Well he will later on….

Crazy how good she is at this right away. Harper notices the immediate potential in her. They tell her she better bone up on chemistry. She beams like the nerd we all know and love. Says she got straight A’s in chemistry in high school. Of course you did haha Lucy gets so caught up in the moment she forgets she was supposed to do the report with Tamara. Oops.

Tim comes to Grey’s office about his report on Mack. Wade is asking him if he’s sure he wants to do it this way? Tim so desperate to right the wrong he did with Isabel he doesn’t hesitate. Says it’s the right thing to do. That it’s what he should’ve done with Isabel in first place. He warns him he'll lose his pension. Tim continues on says its right thing to do. Grey doesn’t disagree. Wade then tells him Lucy will be occupied with a UC op today. He is none too pleased about this and quickly heads to roll call room.

Tim acting like a mad worried husband from here on out. He is SEETHING above. That determined strut and crossing of his arms. His whole demeanor screaming his discontent. Anger ready to spill over onto Harper. So very worried because Lucy has volunteered for a UC op and a very dangerous one at that. He doesn’t hide his stress in the least. Lucy has become such a fixture in his life at this point. To potentially risk losing her to a UC op like he did Isabel…He can't handle the idea of it. The rest of this scene reflects that.

His demons coming out to play extra hard in this one for him. Lucy looks so excited when she's asked to stand up. She's so ready to prove herself. She is just excited in general. Then she turns around and sees Tim’s disapproving stance and stare. She freezes immediately and instantly feels reprimanded. Looks back at him one more time and sees his body language hasn't changed. Tim is emanating anger and Lucy knows it. Whew lord. He’s ready to eat Harper.

Before we move on let's take a moment to enjoy the forearm porn we’re getting here in the gif above. Hot damn. Arms are crossed, biceps bulging and his forearms look toned as hell. Sweet baby James should be a crime to be this attractive. But let’s get back to the episode before I gawk at him any further LMAO

The very SECOND the meeting is over Tim is all over Harper. Pushes off the wall and storms toward her. He is ready to tear her a new one about allowing this. Let’s remember this episode has been VERY rough on Tim to this point. It’s like he’s being forced down memory lane in the worst way possible. With maximum PTSD. He started the ep casual, having fun with Lucy. Even bringing up Isabel at a UC convention without it bothering him. Then Mack showed up and dominoes started to fall and haven't stopped. This scene is his boiling point with good reason.

From Mack who’s his friend forcing him to relieve his trauma with Isabel. Having to make an ethical call about his career due to him becoming an addict. To Lucy going undercover which he feels she was roped into. She wasn’t but he’s not exactly thinking straight right now. It's what happens when our emotions drown us. The logical part of our brain disconnects and all that’s left is intense suffocating emotion. Lashing out trying to get some semblance of control.

We also need to remember the last time he was involved in a UC op Isabel was shot in the head. Almost died. His PTSD is crying out in his scene. Harper tries to calm Tim down by saying she volunteered, Grey approved it and she has the best backup she could possibly have. The thing is though no matter of logic is going to penetrate his panic right now. Tim telling Harper she’s using Lucy and he’s losing his mind over it. He felt Isabel was used in her OP and now those feelings are bleeding over into Lucy’s. He is showing all his cards emotionally in this scene. The sheer terror he feels over Lucy going under cover. He doesn't want to lose her to same thing.

I love the writers for tapping back into these issues of his. They don’t just go away. They tend to linger on for a long time. They’ve left deep scars on him. This shows how raw this nerve still is for Tim. Now to top his day off they’re throwing his person into the one thing he fears the most. Lucy has become the one constant in his life. This incredibly resilient sunshine person that has become so important to him. He can’t stand the thought of being hurt or worse. His fears from 2x19 echoing in this scene. About not being about to protect her. To losing her and him having no say in the result.

I don’t think Tim even understands why he’s reacting this way. Most of their relationship he is like this. Acts without understanding the why behind it. Only that it is a driving force for him. It's not until 4x22 he starts to understand why he acts the way he does with her. He only knows right now it’s instinctual and he can’t stop himself from letting it out.

Lucy looks absolutely crushed by the time he says his line about her being used. The look they share before before he walks away. It's crushing to say the least. We all know how badly she wants to impress him. For him to be proud of her and what she’s accomplished to even be in this OP. Tim has always had her back. Supported her and truly seen her as a person. Had unrelenting faith in her this entire time. To not have that in this moment is rocking her entire world.

I adore Nyla for how she helps Lucy after Tim hastily departs. She’s the best mentor Lucy could have. I love these moments between them. The way she tells her it’s Tim’s issues not her. (It’s true but also it being Lucy adds tons of fuel to the fire for him) Lucy feeling stupid for wanting him to be proud. Harper is so wonderful in validating how she is feeling.

Doesn’t shame her for wanting Tim’s approval. That he got her this far. It makes sense she would want that. Tells her there is NOTHING wrong with it. Such a good scene for them. Why I love their dynamic so much. Harper is so good for Lucy and her confidence building. She covers what Tim can't. What I love about it. These were the scenes I was so excited to get to once she was on the show for these reviews.

Tim and Nolan have joined the op to surveil overhead. No way in hell he wasn’t going to be apart of this. I'm sure after that scene with Harper no one was going to stand in his way. Also how else could obsessively keep his eye on her if he’s at the station? Hehe Nolan thinks he’s helping by comforting Tim in this scene. Sorry John you don’t know him like that and his replies show it.

He is gruff, deflects and is cocky in his replies. All things he does with those he’s not comfortable around. Only Lucy gets soft Tim. I will commend Nolan for having the balls to say anything though. The gall of Tim to say 'Who said I was worried?’ Uh only anyone who’s interacted with you since this whole thing started. LOL The way you bit off Harpers head in front of a room full of people. But sure love you’re not worried…

Eric is so amazing in this scene. His face says the opposite of 'not worried' His stiff body language encompassing all his immense worry. Side note let’s not ignore the amazing shots of his jawline in this scene. Could cut glass on that thing. All scruffy too mmm love it lick it like a lollipop. Ahem anyways...His continued annoyance with Nolan shows as the scene goes on.

Especially when he tells Tim about how Lucy can handle herself. Tim is VERY aware of how capable she is. It’s why he’s a little offended in his reply. He seems annoyed Nolan even mentions she can handle it. As if he's telling Tim this for the first time. Like he hasn't ridden with her pretty much every day for a year plus. He's watched her develop into who she is now. He knows dude. Nobody knows it better than Tim Bradford how damn capable she is ya schmuck...(Oops my Nolan annoyance is showing) It’s what shakes him the most with her interest in UC. That she’s going to excel at it and that scares the hell out of him.

He is playing the worried husband to the letter. Easy Tim your feelings are showing. Showing enough that John Nolan who is usually scared of you is commenting on it. John is doing it to comfort Tim which I respect. But for Tim when it's not Lucy he isn't as receptive. As I stated about earlier he is only going to deflect, be cocky and gruff in his replies. Hence his line above. Tim isn’t going to be able to relax or breathe till she’s on the other side of this. So until then he is going to ward off Nolan and his compassion by being self assured. That he trained her so he’s not “worried". Whatever gets you through love.

Lucy acts like a complete bad ass during the whole thing. No surprise. Gets pulled into the limo with the boss and holds her own. Even speaks Tagalog impressing Salonga even further. Writes out the formula and preserves the OP. Doesn’t take long before she’s released and they’re given the money. That’s when everyone swoops in and arrests everyone. I read in theflyingdutchwoman’s amazing analysis in their anatomy Of a scene series (if you haven't read her stuff I highly recommend it) about Tim bailing on his post during this section. I couldn’t agree more I have no doubt the minute she stepped into that limo his ass was off that rooftop immediately. Ready to go when she needed him.

Tim is in fierce protector mode until he reaches Lucy. Then breathes a sigh of relief. Morphing into soft Tim instantly. Only for her. He quietly asks her if she’s ok? That small set of words exposing EVERYTHING about how he’s feeling. The anxiety and how stressed he was till this moment. She nods fervently and his body continues to relax. What follows this is so sweet. Let’s admire the way he holds her cuffed hands.

How gentle he is with her as he escorts her to the shop. He could have put his hands on her arms or elbow like Nyla got with Nolan. But then Nolan isn’t in in love with Nyla…He legit held her hands all the way to the patrol car. I love it sfm. Like he needed to do this to ground himself after the adrenaline rush he just experienced. Proving to himself that she’s there. She’s safe and he can relax.

Then comes the more beautiful part of the scene and really the episode if you ask me. Lucy isn’t expecting anything from Tim in this moment. Last time she saw him was his outburst about her even doing this. Then in the most Tim Bradford-esc way he voices how very proud he is of her. By telling her ‘You did good.’ To anyone else might not mean much. Or seem like much. To Lucy Chen it means the entire world. She knows Tim’s hang ups with UC. The demons he had arise with this. She also knows he’s putting aside those feelings to let her know he’s proud of her. Which is HUGE.

Because at the end of the day this OP was about Lucy and building her confidence in this area. He wants her to know that and does so. She craves his approval and support so much. Let’s not forget she grew up in an emotionally abusive household as well. Parents who withheld praise and support for anything she did. Never proud her. (I know that life) It’s why Tim’s approval means so damn much to her.

Why she lives and strives for it. Tim has had nothing but unconditional faith and support in her since day one. When he blew up about her doing this she thought she had lost that. These three words restore that for her. I don’t think Tim even knew the depth of how much him being proud of her meant. Ugh these idiots. I love them and their slow burn sfm. To round out the scene I adore Nyla’s wink at the end. She is also so very proud of Lucy. Handled herself like a damn pro. I love her so much for the impact she has on Lucy it’s unreal.

Poor Tim (said this a lot but seriously this ep is hard on him) has the episode end pretty roughly for him. Beth comes to find him and rip him a new one. Tim tells her he can’t excuse the past. But this is now and he stands by what he did. It calls back to 3x04 when he was telling Lucy the same thing. That he can’t fix what he did then but would make sure it wouldn’t happen again.

This situation is proof of that. Doing for Mack what he should’ve done for Isabel. It’s awful to watch her tear him apart. But the right thing and the easy thing are rarely the same. Unfortunately this is very true for Tim in this instance. He ends this ep on a low note and I just wanna hug him.

For Lucy it ends better. She makes up the report for Tamara by providing not just herself but Nyla and June for her repot as well. It’s cute to watch Tamara absorb all their banter. I love Lucy’s speech here it’s so good. Praising the women next to her in a way Tamara is revering them all. It's perfect way to the ep for them both. Such a good one.

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Side notes-non chenford

I love the introduction of Silas. I think that’s it’s didn’t really care about Nolan’s classes SL tbh. But cool castle reunion.

Thank you always to those who like, reblog and comment. Make creating these reviews so worth it shall see you all in 3x07 :)