#ill pick something and then the laptop will simply go 'lol you thought the fact that i had a terasquare of harddisk was good? you idiot.

[arsenicflame]

i need a website that tells me the perfect laptop to buy to meet my every need. no other options. just "here, this is the one you want :)"

[angelaiswriting]

I Love You | Fuze x fem!reader

✏️ Pairing: Fuze x fem!reader

✏️ Summary: The five times he thought he loved her, and the one time he told her. (Inspired by the lovely @kind-wolf​, who also provided prompts since I lack in the fluff department lol)

✏️ A/N: I’m rusty af but there you go, someone please bring back the X times they thought they loved their person and the time they told them trope, thank you very much. Alice, I hope your day will be better than yesterday, thank you for all the help 💛 @sazafraz​ I hope you’ll enjoy this as well :’)

✏️ Warnings: just what I hope is fluff (+ it’s almost midnight, I proofread this as best as I could, forgive any mistake pls)

✏️ Word-count: 4,887

ONE

The first time he thought he could love her was when everything else felt cold and distant.

 If it wasn’t for the fact that she picked up the call right before the third ring, he’d have one more reason to sulk about the past shitty forty-eight hours. First, a mission almost gone wrong and that has left him battered and sore. In pain would probably be the best term, but Shuhrat doesn’t like to complain too much. Then, a fight with a couple of operators he doesn’t know that well but that he has by now labeled as dickheads, thus turning them into people he won’t be looking forward to hanging out with—not now, and surely not even any time soon. Then, problems with his flight, which have led to him landing in Moscow five hours later than anticipated.

And if that isn’t enough, he’s almost considering turning on his heels and hopping down the five flights of stairs that separate him from the chaos of the city out there. He has his duffel bag in one hand and an umbrella that decided to break at the wrong damn moment in the other. And truly, he doesn’t know why he’s still holding onto it but some part of him buried deep inside his brain makes him believe that everything’s going to shatter if he lets it drop.

But he’s ringing the doorbell for the third time now and he thinks that fuck it, maybe I should really just leave. And if it weren’t for the fact that the anniversary of his brother’s disappearance is coming up, he would crash at his parents’ place; he’s missed them, after all. However, right as he’s about to truly turn around and start his descent, there’s commotion coming from inside. Barking. Someone groaning. And then the sound of a dog whining and grumbling at an order it doesn’t want to take.

“Hey!” She’s panting, trying to hold back a white and brown dog by its collar. “Sorry, this big baby just came back covered in mud from his walk and I was giving him a bath.”

“It’s…” Shuhrat eyes the big hound dog and for a moment, he wonders how on earth she’s managing to keep him from jumping through the threshold. “No problem.” The smile he gives her is just half there, and he’s painfully aware of it. If it were another time in his life, probably twenty years or so ago, he’d let the tears run freely down his cheeks, but he knows how to keep himself in check now. “Sorry it took me so long. I couldn’t find a taxi, so I had to take a bus.”

But she’s grinning, and the happiness so clear on her face makes her eyes squint. “God, I’m so happy you’re here, Shuhrat! It’s been forever! Come in, you’re soaking my doormat,” she adds with a chuckle.

Walking into her apartment proves to be quite the feat, with the dog—Buran, she says with great pride in her voice—barely moving from the spot he seems to have rooted himself in right in the entrance. He doesn’t move; he simply stands there, with Y/N trying to drag him at least a step to the side, and stares at him, muzzle wrinkled in preparation to snarl, but the aggression never comes. After a long moment of contemplation, Buran takes a step forward, boops his thigh with his nose, and then turns back toward his owner.

“He’s a big boy,” she says when she lets go of the dog��s collar, “but he’s never hurt anybody. Sometimes I think it’s all for show.”

“Is he…”

She nods, and the discussion ends there. He doesn’t ask how she’s been holding up after her grandparents’ death, and she doesn’t tell. What she does, though, is wait silently as he takes his boots off, the only sound that of Buran drinking water in the background.

When he looks up, she’s staring at him and there’s the shadow of a frown on her face, her head slightly tilted to the side as she studies him. He almost feels like a specimen in a laboratory, and there’s this knot slowly forming in the back of his throat that just… chokes him, in a way. He has nothing to complain about, but the stitches on his left thigh sting like a bitch, and he’s exhausted, and all he wants is to sleep curled up under heavy blankets for at least a month.

She doesn’t inquire, though. She doesn’t ask him possibly uncomfortable questions: they’ve known each other for far too long that they now know when it’s time for questions and when it’s not. All she does is offer him a smile—one of those half smiles of hers that always used to make him wonder how much, exactly, she knows.

“You look like you could use a hug.” She doesn’t step forward as she says that, and he doesn’t either, but her eyes never leave his.

“My clothes are wet.”

“And your point is…”

When she does hug him, it’s like being trapped in one of those moments where the body moves faster than the brain, and he finds himself wrapping his arms around her before he even has the time to utter a word. She’s warm and solid, in a way, and it’s almost like he’s being given permission to just let go for once and forget about anything that’s not part of the here and now.

It’s then that the thought pops up unsolicited in his mind. They’ve been growing closer again, and it’s like the time they spent growing apart when he was engaged didn’t even exist in the first place. Her texts are what he wakes up with a smile on his lips for, even though Sanya pokes fun at him at times, and he often finds himself subconsciously longing for her calls.

He’s hugging her, his forehead pressed into the crook of her neck as he soaks her clothes, and he thinks that fuck, if he could open up enough to fall in love again, why not with her?

*

TWO

The second time he thought he could be in love with her was on Skype.

 “Is that my sweatshirt?” The urge to grin is tugging at the corners of his lips and he does his best to suppress it, truly, but it’s a hard task when at some point Buran jumps up on her bed and all Shuhrat sees is his wet nose and hairy snout.

“C’mon, baby, sit back,” he hears her groan as she drags the dog back from her laptop and against her pillows. “Jesus, I hadn’t expected for this bear to fall in love with you so fast.” These words are followed by a jokingly eye-roll and a cheater whispered right against Buran’s ear. “But yes, Agent Eagle Eye, it’s your sweatshirt.”

“The last time you wore my things, we were still in school.” He misses those days—kinda. He’s glad he doesn’t have to put up with teachers and classmates anymore, doesn’t miss tests or having to study, but there’s still nostalgia laced with those memories and for a moment, it tastes bittersweet, until she answers back with one of her jokes.

They talk about everything and nothing at once for a long while, spend long minutes catching up over what happened in the past three weeks, after he’s finally gone back to Hereford after the month he’s somehow managed to spend in Moscow. Bunkered up for most of the time in her apartment with her dog is more like it, but these are details he has no problem overlooking.

Timur is nice and although he never says an ill or sarcastic word about how Shuhrat’s leave has gone, there has always been a smile on his lips that wasn’t there before that godforsaken mission. Sometimes Shuhrat thinks his friend knows something he doesn’t—like right now, as he gets dressed in a nice suit to go out on a date—, at least not yet, but he also doesn’t want to ask questions whose answers he might not want to hear, so he always keeps his suspicions to himself.

He does sigh, though, when Tima pokes his head from behind him and smiles at the girl on the screen. This man’s always blabbing about you—or something like that; Shuhrat is too busy worrying about his burning ears and how they’d better not be blushing to actually pay attention to the quick exchange between his two friends.

There’s silence after that. Timur leaves the dorm room after Maxim popped his head in, and it’s just Y/N and him once again. They stare at each other and she’s smiling and he’s trying to force his brain to think because fuck, he’s okay with long silences, really, but not with her. It’s Buran’s soft bark that encourages the conversation to flow again, and she asks if he’s received the package she’s sent.

He has, and when he recovers it from under his bed, where he’s been storing it in wait for one of their video calls, she prompts him to open it. His chuckle makes her chuckle because damn, sometimes she just goes to sweet lengths for him and he never knows what he’s done to deserve such a friend.

“I hope you still love korovki,” she giggles and when he picks up a handful of korovka candies, that giggle turns into a soft laughter that seems to ring even through the speakers of his old laptop.

“You even remembered about slivy v shokolade…” The smile is more in his eyes than it is on his lips, and he knows it, he feels it somehow. It’s a nice feeling and it makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside, and for the first time ever he wishes he could push himself into his screen and out of hers just to give her a hug. “Why?” he wonders out loud and before she breaks out into a huge smile, he has a brief couple of seconds to scold himself for asking that question. Even though he has no reason to, really.

“You were feeling down,” she explains, “and you also sounded a bit pissed. I thought candy would make you feel a bit better again, since I clearly can’t ship this ball of fur all the way there.” She ruffles Buran’s head as she says so and the dog licks her face before settling down and laying his heavy head on her belly. “He sends something as well, in case you feel lonely, since you basically became snuggle buddies.”

He chuckles, both at her words and at all the time Buran has spent on his lap in the time he’s spent crashing at Y/N’s place. “Not my fault I give nice cuddles,” he shrugs as he digs through candies and chocolates.

There’s a rabbit plushie in there and while it’s been washed, it’s clear who its previous owner is. An ear is slightly off, a little more down the head compared to the other, and it’s proof that Buran played with it a bit too roughly one day and tore it off. The ribbon around the rabbit’s neck is new, though, a vibrant sunflower yellow color that matches almost to perfection that of the dog’s collar.

“I thought this was his favorite,” he muses, holding it up so that both she and Buran can see it.

The dog woofs once before he snuggles his human and a paw accidentally moves the laptop enough to turn it to the side and pick up his wagging tail. A moment later, though, Y/N is back into the frame.

“I told him to pick a toy to send to you, and he chose that. Don’t question his choices, Kessikbayev. My baby knows what he’s doing.”

“Alright, alright!” But they’re both smiling, and it truly does feel like being kids all over again, when they played with his brother and her sisters in the park.

“There should be something else on the bottom,” she says after a while, more seriousness in her voice, and she sits up a little straighter to lean against her pillows. “I know it’s probably silly, but I remember when our parents took us to Kazan when we were eight and we said we would be friends forever. We both lost our bracelets swimming two years later, but…”

Her words fade as he opens the rectangular plastic box he missed just minutes before. There, stretched out open, lies a white bracelet with a single aquamarine bead. It is exactly like the one they had gifted each other a lifetime ago and even though almost twenty-five years have passed, it still feels like yesterday. The blue sky, the birds chirping, and the condensation of their breaths mingling in the air as all they could think about was the fritters they were going to buy soon with the rest of their money.

“Burya and I went back to visit one of my aunts, and when I saw it in the shop window, I thought, why not?”

He doesn’t tell her he won’t be able to wear it, not for the majority of his time at least, but he still has days off, and he still appreciates her lovely gesture. He appreciates it more than he can tell and when he looks up from the bracelet to thank her, all he can think about is how light he feels when he’s with her. Even through Skype.

*

THREE

The third time he thought that maybe he was truly developing romantic feelings for her was when she came to visit.

 It’s the week before his birthday, the only one she’s managed to take off from her work at the vet clinic, but he swears he already feels like the birthday boy on his special day.

He’s rented a room for her in the bed and breakfast closest to the base, but they both know he’ll end up spending more time there than he will in his own dorm. The guys will probably start asking questions, but he knows Timur has his back and that he’ll come up with something—like he’s always done in the weeks that have followed his Muscovite leave. For once, though, he doesn’t mind the questions: he would still prefer not to answer them, for he’s not sure he’d have answers to give anyway, but somehow he doesn’t mind the idea of people he’s (kind of) close to wondering about what’s going on between him and a woman.

Which he… doesn’t know, but he guesses that he’s ready to find out.

That’s what he thinks about as he lies in bed next to her. His thumb is slowly brushing along the two-word tattoo on the side of her ribcage, below her breast, but he can’t exactly focus his mind and actually read it, for he’s too busy wondering how they ended up in that situation in the first place.

“What are you thinking about?” she whispers after a while, gaze focused on the wooden beams of the ceiling visible in the warm light of the dimmed bathroom lights they left on before they even had the chance to towel themselves dry.

His answer is preceded by a low hum that seems to reverberate right in his chest. His lips press a light kiss to the side of her boob before he props himself up on an elbow to look down at her. He smiles and then, with a tingling sensation still in his lips, he whispers back, You.

Her hand comes up to cup his cheek and right as she lets out a soft sigh, her thumb wipes across his cheekbone once. “What are we doing?” she asks, her eyes never leaving his as she does her best to even out her breathing. She will be sore in the morning, but Shuhrat doesn’t know yet.

He shrugs his shoulders once and for a moment, he almost regrets staying over. He should have gone back to the base; he should have accompanied her back to the bed and breakfast, of course, and then gone back to the base. Stayed up with the guys for a few drinks, watched football on the huge flatscreen in one of the common areas, and then slept in his bed.

“I think we…” Her tongue briefly comes out to wet her lower lip and he finds himself unable to look away. “We could do it again.” The tone of her voice is hesitating and it falters toward the end of the sentence, somehow making it sound more like a question than an affirmation.

Shuhrat smirks and when she tentatively pulls him down to kiss him, her lips press against the scar above his lip for a moment. “Now?” he asks, voice raspy but eyes twinkling as one of his hands trails down her side and over her hip.

“No!” Her laugh is weak and breathy, and she closes her eyes for a second before she shakes her head. “I want to be able to go on that hike with you and your friends in the morning. But when we’re back… Who knows?”

He’s leaning against the frame of the bathroom door five minutes later, dressed only in his birthday suit and arms crossed against his chest. He’s watching her brush her teeth and absentmindedly listening to her recount something Burya did the day before she left him at one of her sisters’ place, but his eyes keep on getting trained back to the tattoo on her ribcage.

Two words. An exclamation mark. 

The smile that tugs at his lips is hard to contain and even to conceal, and its reflection in the mirror is what makes her turn her head in his direction as a confused expression settles on her features.

“I used to always say that.”

She spits mouthwash in the sink before asking back, “What?”

“So mnoj!” he smiles. “With me! Growing up.”

It takes her a moment before realization dawns on her and her eyes trail down her body in the mirror. “Yeah, I know, that’s why it’s there,” she smiles.

*

FOUR

The fourth time he thought he was starting to fall in love with her was at a paintball game.

 The early spring air is still chilly when they decide to play paintball on the ground of Timur’s dacha. It’s a way to pass time—and to give Timur and his girl a few hours alone. Glazkov doesn’t say it—he never does, truly, he doesn’t complain—but his broken leg is bothering him a little and he needs to look after it a bit more instead of hiding his discomfort behind a finger when his friends are with him.

If anything, Y/N has been a great addition to the group—and Buran has managed to bring a smile on everyone’s face countless times with his playful antics and his oh-so-sweet nature around his human. But even though he would love to participate in the game, Y/N has ordered him to stay back on the porch in fear that he—or anyone else, for that matter—might get hurt somehow.

She’s teamed up with Alexsandr and despite the fact that they have already lost three games, they’ve still decided to go for the same tactic one more time. They’re hiding behind a different set of bushes, sure, but he and Maxim can hear them giggle at some pun one of the two must have said, and a victory has never been easier.

They stand still for a while, listening to their hilarity, but before they have the time to take a step forward, Buran dashes across the grounds of the dacha and flushes them out. There’s a rapid sequence of Burya! and Party pooper! and I can’t breathe! that makes both Shuhrat and Maxim laugh out loud, paintball guns still in hand and pointed toward the bushes.

Tachanka is the first to get out of his hiding spot. He crawls across the cold and hard ground trying his best to keep breathing through his laughter as Burya playfully shakes his leg in his usual way to play fight. “Soldier, you’re giving out our position!”

“You should know how to play this game better than this, Sanya,” Maxim exclaims and the second after their friend has managed to stand back up on his feet, he shoots a green paintball right in the middle of his chest. “Dead.”

When Burya runs up to him, Shuhrat can’t help the happy laughter that bubbles up in his chest. “Good boy,” he coos, glove-clad hand petting his head. “Now go drag your mama out.”

He stops for a moment as the dog runs back behind the bush and in that brief minute, he realizes for the first time that he has never felt like this, at least not in a long while—like he has finally opened up, even if only to those close to him.

But then Y/N’s pleas of surrender take him back to the present moment and he smiles because damn, he thinks this is thanks to her as well. Her and this happy dog he’s grown so attached to.

“I promise I won’t shoot, Solnyshko!” and even though Max is chuckling under his breath in a way that would lead to thinking the opposite, he still lowers his gun and takes a step back.

Back at the dacha, as Timur’s girlfriend places all kinds of sweets on the table to pair with their tea, Shuhrat takes Y/N to the side for a moment and sits on the porch with Burya staring at them from the porch swing. It’s just the two of them, like after a whole day spent playing and all the other kids went home, but just… a bit quieter, with the first stars starting to twinkle in the approaching darkness of the evening.

“I’m so bad at paintball,” is the chuckle that distracts him from the never-ending horizon. “But Sanya surely wasn’t helping!”

“That’s no excuse, love.” He wraps an arm around her shoulders—earning a low warning whine from her dog—and pulls her closer into his side. “You’re both bad, that’s just the truth.”

The playful slap he earns to his knee is weak and light. “I should have teamed up with Maxim. I think we would have beaten your sorry ass, then.”

She grins up at him and he smiles down at her and for a moment all he can think is Fuck it! before he tilts his head and kisses her.

*

FIVE

The fifth time he thought he was in love with her, without a doubt this time, she had kids tackling her to the ground.

 Tanya’s fifth birthday party is going strong and after the mermaid-themed cake and an endless hour spent opening presents of every kind imaginable, all the kids have gone back to playing. It is a tag game this time and as Burya plays with them, running around the garden and barking happily every once in a while, Shuhrat and Y/N watch the scene with the biggest grins on their faces.

She’s sitting sideways on his lap and he’s probably holding her closer than he ever has. It’s been a while since they stopped wondering what it was and just… embraced it. It’s nothing official, everything’s still off the record, but he has clothes at her place and a mug in a cabinet in her kitchen and when he’s over, the leather armchair in the living room becomes his and Buran’s favorite spot to snuggle and relax.

“I didn’t think your family could get any bigger,” he confesses when she pecks his freshly-shaven cheek.

“I have five sisters,” she giggles, snuggling closer and resting her head on his shoulder. “If we fly low and go for an average of three kids each, I will end up with fifteen nephews! But as you see,” and she points at her sister Marina and the baby bump she’s sporting, “we’re not flying low at all.”

He laughs at that and hugs her closer with one arm as he brings his beer bottle to his lips with the other. “Have you ever thought of…” He shrugs. “Adding some of your own to the bunch?”

She looks at him lost in thought for a while, taking the beer from his hand to steal a sip, before she eventually shrugs her shoulders in return. “I don’t know, I haven’t considered it yet. I’m happy with just Burya and you so far. He’s like a baby to me, he’s just not in human form.”

He doesn’t have time to say anything. Little Kolya drags her away by her right hand, and Masha follows suit and grabs her other hand.

Shuhrat watches with a smile on his face as she goes back to being the babysitting auntie and just as seven children gang up on her and drag her to the floor, Anastasia sits next to him and sends him a knowing smile.

“I’ve never seen her happier than when she’s with you.” Her confession somehow catches him unprepared and although there’s nothing wrong in the words leaving Y/N’s eldest sister’s lips, he still feels the urge to tear his eyes from her. “And I know I haven’t seen you in forever, but I remember you being at your lowest and I’m glad you’ve both pushed each other back to the surface.”

*

SIX

Then, there finally came the time he told her.

 All Shuhrat can do is look at her, simply stare at her dance in the pouring rain that has caught them by surprise after a whole afternoon spent playing with their dog on the beach. He knows the quick and sudden summer downpour isn’t bound to last long, but the intensity of the rain and the deep gray of the sky almost make him think otherwise.

Their Ukrainian vacation on the Black Sea has felt like a dream so far, the best leave he’s had in forever, probably. Nothing has managed to disrupt his peace in the past week and if anything, he’s spent these days getting closer to his girl and Burya. Whether in the apartment they have rented or out exploring, nothing has ever felt so much like home, not even in a foreign country, than it feels like with her.

She’s twirling and laughing now, though, face turned up toward a steely sky and arms open wide, almost as though she could somehow take flight. The ringing of her laughter is drowned out by the raging pitter-pattering of the downpour that is soaking him to the bone, but he swears he can still hear it. Buran is barking by his side, unable to stay still or to stop his tail from wagging wildly against his shin, and there’s something so indescribable in the scene he’s witnessing that his heart feels like it’s being held in a grip.

It is one of those moments when the time feels like it finally stops, if so for just a moment, and something clicks. There’s this one piece that finally finds its place and a light turns on, and everything is clearer than it’s ever been. Not that it hasn’t been before—because it has, even with him not being able to fully admit it to himself—it’s just that it feels… actually real, this time. Like that’s the truth and there’s no hiding it anymore, not when it’s clearly brighter than the sun.

The realization seeps into his limbs like the rain that’s soaking his clothes and he just… smiles. It’s only one side of his lips at first, a smirk that tries to conceal the smile he can’t contain—in vain.

When she stops right in front of him, still giggling like a child, her breathing is all over the place. Fast and almost messy, and she is panting, desperately trying to catch her breath as she shakes her head a couple of times, trying to make the world stand still once again. She has hair sticking to her face and he can see her black bikini through the soaked-through fabric of her summer dress.

He somehow thinks back to the day he rang her doorbell three times. And to the hug she gave him that day, the one that almost cracked his tough exterior right open, and he realizes that he doesn’t really mind feeling like that with her. That he doesn’t really mind being vulnerable in her presence, and that he enjoys feeling like he belongs with her.

It is then that he says it out loud, and it feels good and almost warm inside as he stands there, teeth clattering from the cold. But the rain is too loud, and when she screams over its sound and over that of the howling wind that picks up suddenly, he finds himself kicking aside all the fears he has at the idea of opening up completely.

“I love you!” He screams it in the rain, with the wind slapping water in his face, and it feels better than it ever has in the past. And he’s blinded by the raindrops but even despite that, he sees her face light up in one of those bright smiles she’s never able to contain.

“I know!” she yells back before spreading her arms again. “That’s why I’m happy: because I love you, too!”

I’m a hoe for feedback in case you wanna leave any 💛

Original picture: https://www.pexels.com/photo/bunch-of-petals-on-white-surface-4041274/

[yakuzacasual]

I just finished yakuza 3 and Mine deserves love! General dating headcannons are fine or maybe his s/o having to reassure him they aren’t going to leave or trying to use him for money? He needs a hug lol ;u;

PREFACE

I have no idea what got into me with this one. I just closed my eyes for a moment and it got so long all of the sudden? I will say, I don’t remember much from Y3 and it was an overall uhh not enjoyable experience to me, but writing for our poor baby Mine was kinda fun! He 1000% deserves all the hugs and reassurment we can provide and uhh i’m not quite sure if I delivered, to be honest. I did try my best though and I’m hoping you will like it!

<probably should write some normal dating hc to make up for that monster lol>

MINE NEEDS REASSUREMENT

Entering a relationship, Mine is extremely cautious about his newfound partner. As in, ridiculously cautious. Obsessively cautious. He’s got you background checked from heads to toes. Knows all about your family, alive or dead, and history of personal affairs or lack thereof. He had no problems digging up anything that could be found about your education, as well as professional experience. At times he was even able to obtain more confidential data such as your medical records, old employment contracts and went as far as contacting any of your past bosses he might have his financial clutch on.

Whether you are able to tell or not, is a matter of perception. Mine doesn’t hide well that he knows some things about you that he definitely shouldn’t have, maybe he is not even bothering to try. It is creepy and controlling, especially as he keeps a close eye on you even as you are in the relationship with him, he recognizes as much, but at the same time he knows something sparked. Something unusual and fresh. Mine has you pegged as someone interesting, different, marvelous. This is not something that happens every day for him. Thus, Mine concluded that he simply cannot allow himself to further the attachment if there are chances of being betrayed. It’s just a bit of risk management, nothing more.

Slowly but surely he starts to get more comfortable in this relationship. He may still seem distant, but a keen eye can easily observe how he becomes more relaxed around you, more willing to let himself go and let you take care of him, step by step. So relaxed, in fact, that he did not see the risk coming to bite him in the ass again. Or at least that is the only way he can think about it, as he eagerly reads through an update on your whereabouts. A pawn shop. According to his contact, you sneaked out of your work earlier today, went home and straight to Ebisu.

By the time he joins you at your shared apartment, he is absolutely fuming mad. No, not mad. Disappointed, rather. Here you were, waiting for him like nothing had happened, all dolled up for the date he promised to take you on today. What did you sell? His watches? Expensive ties? Maybe a laptop or a phone? He decides to play along for now, he’s pretty good at that.

You sit down at a table in a modest, but still elegant restaurant, your smile bright and your hands fidgety. You’ve been playing with your bag a lot, suspiciously. Mine wastes no time, starting to prod you for some answers somewhat gently, so as to not alert you just yet. He wants to see if you have any shame, if you’ll at very least be truthful. Some part of him doesn’t want to give up on you, not yet. And then you do it, something no one but Daigo has ever done. Prove him wrong.

You take out a neat little package, moving it across the table to him in a bit of ashy motion. He says nothing, too paralyzed to speak, his inquisitive eyes glued onto your facial expression. He lets you do the talking and as you explain how you wished to give him something that would suit him as you explain all the shops you tried your luck with and as he cautiously unpacks the said present, Mine can feel something welling up inside of him. It’s the anniversary of your relationship today. You went to Ebisu so that you could finally get him the present, that you put so much work, so much thought into. And he not only forgot, but had the gall to be suspicious of you. You. His partner. His… love.

The date is cut short as he claims to be feeling ill, but you just know there is something more to it. You tug on his sleeve, leading him to a smaller street with less traffic and try to inquire him about this sudden state. This is the first time in the history of your relationship, where Mine actually expresses his feelings. Clumsily so, struggling to pick the correct words or maybe any words in general. He voices his worries and you can hear his voice break if only just a bit when he apologizes for being cold for so long. All you can do is reach out, hold him tight and tenderly. Let him know that you are and will be there for him, as he lets his guard down. This reassuring gesture makes him incredibly warm inside, so comforting and addictive. He wants more, so much more of you. The scent of your perfume or cologne, the feeling of your skin beneath his fingertips. It’s you, the special one. The one that may be able to put him back together. Having you in his arms, he almost lets himself believe that everything will be fine, that you will stay by him no matter what happens. Even when he reveals the atrocious things he has done. And maybe you will?

[kenzieam]

The Tutor - Chapter Six

Pairing: AU Bucky X Levi

Rating: M (my usual, lovelies)

Warnings: language, drama, angst, mentions of abuse

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Levi the jock needs help in high school and her twin brother, Steve, volunteers his newest friend, Bucky. Seemingly just to piss her off, Bucky accepts but soon realizes there’s more to the Levi than she lets the average spectator see.

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Feedback = Happy writer.... lol

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A LITTLE MORE SMUT; LOVELY, LOVELY SMUT TO MIX WITH THE ANGST.....

This is the second to last installment, stay tuned for the final chapter of Bucky and Lev as soon as I can get what’s floating around in my head down onto the screen!

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One Year Later

Levi stumbled on an uneven patch of sidewalk, checked herself and cursed her lack of awareness. Today was the last day of her accelerated summer courses, she should be happy!

But she wasn’t, she was hella distracted.

Why? Because in the last few weeks, Bucky had started pulling away from her.

They’d managed for a while; speaking on the phone, Skyping every few days, the twins coming home on all the major breaks but, ever since her first year had ended, and Levi had made the painful choice to cut her summer break short to only two weeks before returning to campus for accelerated courses through the summer, something had changed between them.

Even with their attraction, the latent chemistry that simmered between them, it had taken real work this last year to make it all work.

Tired from classes, weary from studying or, in Bucky’s case, exhausted from all that on top of helping care for his sisters and working a side job, it had sometimes been a herculean effort to pick up the phone, or open the laptop, and put on a brave face for the other, because you were both struggling and neither wanted to add to the other’s misery.

Levi couldn’t help feeling a prickle of jealousy towards her brother, not for the first time since they’d began school almost a year ago. Peggy had been accepted to a school in the same city as the twins and rented a basement suite from a couple who were rarely home, enabling Steve to spend time with his girlfriend whenever he damn well felt like it; and so he hadn’t, and probably never would, experience the isolation and anguish Levi felt on a regular basis. Seeing her brother with his love however, was a balm to her soul in small ways, at least Steve wasn’t suffering like her and Levi, no matter how much Brock had claimed otherwise, was not so selfish and spoiled as to deny her brother that happiness.

Bucky had supported Levi’s most recent choice, the decision to attend accelerated courses, something only a few ultra ambitious students did, because it would cut down the overall time of her education; she’d be graduating and available to slavering head-hunters long before her classmates, although in the hindsight currently clouded by recent events and Levi’s new insecurities, she realized that his support had been stoic and guarded, him saying what was right again, not what he’d wanted. It was a calculated gamble, straining the present situation further for gains in the future, but Bucky had forced a smile over the laptop screen when she’d first brought the topic up and, when they’d finally been standing in front of each other again in those aborted two weeks, pulled her into a embrace, pressed a kiss to her forehead and murmured what had become her mantra, her fuel, this last year.

I’m here with you.

Had it been a mistake? Because for the last two weeks, Bucky had been distracted, distant on the phone, always with some excuse why he couldn’t Skype her, give her the opportunity to heal under the warmth of his smile, those brilliant blue eyes and Levi had finally narrowed down the queasiness in her stomach to concrete words.

He was hiding something from her.

But what?

Her mind raced with possibilities and, despite having been largely successful in silencing his voice since his death, Brock’s words taunted her now.

Spoiled little Princess.

You aren’t worth it.

Bucky had found someone else, that had to be the reason.

Someone without the baggage, without the literal distance separating them. Why slog though unfulfilling Skype calls, the object of your love right there in front of you but untouchable; fuck, Levi might have well been on Mars; when you could touch someone real, hold someone real? Not have to wait until a certain time of the day to talk, to wait with sweating palms and hope the other had the time and energy to answer? Feel your body coil tight because you wanted the other so badly, but knew you would have to rely on your own hand?

Levi’s mind raced, working through her options, she only had a week before fall classes started. Could she find a last-minute flight? One that left tonight or by tomorrow afternoon? If not, or if she needed to drive instead, it would seriously cut into the time she had to see Bucky, to try and work out what was going on between them. She’d barely get there and have to turn around and come back, not to mention the fact that, as soon as she saw Bucky, regardless of the strange distance forming between them, her body would clamor for him, her heart crying to shelter in his arms again. It would be that much harder, nigh impossible, to drag herself away from him and return to classes.

Could she stand to miss the first few days of second year?

Even as that thought swirled through her mind, she dismissed it. She had left to get an education, to branch out and have a life; whatever was going on with her and Bucky right now couldn’t get in the way of the very reason they were in this position to begin with.

I need to get my head on straight. She chided.

Without remembering the walk, Levi looked up and realized she was already home.

Chafing under the undeniable truths of her husband’s temperament, Levi and Steve’s mom had surprised them both by buying a house, not far from the university, and putting both twin’s names on the deed as sole owners. It made sense, she tried to explain, buying rather than renting, but there was a definite ‘fuck you’ in the transaction, directed at the dead man himself; using a chunk of the money he’d held so tightly to help out the twins he’d fought so hard not to aid in any way.

The neighborhood was old and gentrified, the lots large. The whole place reminded Levi of Detroit’s Brush Park, but well-maintained and loved. Their own house was eclectic, tall and deep, the relative narrowness of the house more than made up for by how far back from the street it went. A garage to the side and large backyard were welcome additions, and Levi had a hard time deciding whether she like the shading trees in the back or the giant covered porch out front to relax on more.

Steve emerged from the kitchen as she walked through the front door, a ready grin on his face.

“Hey, Junior. Last day, huh? What’s wrong?” Even if they hadn’t shared a womb and known each other inside and out, Levi’s face was enough to warrant the question.

Levi considered not answering, simply pushing past her well-meaning brother and hiding upstairs, but her lips parted, and the marrow of her heartache fell out.

“Something’s going on with Bucky.”

Steve shifted his weight, clearing his throat. “What do you mean?”

Levi sighed, taking off her new favorite thrift store find, a red flat cap, to run a hand through her hair, it had gotten longer in the last year, certainly no less unruly, and she’d put serious thought into chucking it all in for an extreme pixie cut more than once lately, if not for the desire to feel Bucky’s fingers trail through it again, coil it around his fist as he pushed unbearably slowly into her from behind-

Clearing her throat almost violently, Lev shook off the unwelcome and certainly ill-timed thought of the last time she and Bucky had made love, the last time they’d seen each other before Lev returned for classes and forced her attention back to the conversation with her twin brother.

“He’s,” she sighed, pulling off her light jacket and hanging it on the nearest hook, “distant. Distracted. It’s like he thinks he has better things to do, or he’s hiding something from me. Christ, he hasn’t even answered his phone in the last two days; I’ve tried his house, but his mom says he’s working.”

“C’mon, Lev. Are you sure you’re not just-”?

“Being paranoid? Yeah. I think….” She took a deep, steadying breath, because talking to her brother; her steady, reliable brother, was making all the little nagging thoughts in her mind seem too fucking real. “I think he’s interested in someone else.”

Steve snorted, a loud horse-like sound that would have been humorous under any other circumstances. “Bullshit. I call bullshit. Who?”

Levi chewed her lip. “I don’t know, but why else-”

“Junior, you need to relax.” Steve strode forwards, wrapping his arms around Lev and squeezing her tightly. “You’re thinking too much. Go upstairs and have a shower, I’ll order some pizza, we’ll sit down and watch some movies, just like old times, how does that sound?”

To be honest, it sounded amazing and Levi let herself melt into her brother’s embrace for a few seconds, felt him press a quick peck to the top of her head. Steve took a step back, loosening his arms slightly and gripped her chin gently, tipping her head up to look at him.

“No thinking tonight. We’re just vegging out, okay?”

A wave of pure gratitude washed over Lev and she blinked rapidly to head off tears. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Great, now go have a shower, you stink like that model glue you guys use.”

Lev rolled her eyes, slinging her messenger bag back onto her shoulder and mounted the stairs, feeling lighter already. “I want the Donair Special!” She bellowed back down as she climbed.

“Gross.” Steve’s voice drifted up.

“Better than that green pepper abomination you like!”

“Veggie Deluxe!”

“Disgusting!”

“Go have a shower!”

Levi entered her room, still smiling. Minutes later, she stepped into the shower, hair piled in a bun on top of her head and sighed in relief as the hot water streamed down her body. Soon the lively green tea scent of her favorite body wash filled the air and Levi closed her eyes, just feeling herself decompress for a beat. Deciding to go the full nine yards, she lathered and exfoliated every inch of her body before shaving her legs and armpits and, while her hands moved automatically through the motions, she let her mind wander, sorting through her chaotic thoughts, chewing them into manageable pieces.

“I love you.” He whispered, watching her face, a small smile pulling at his lips.

Levi smiled back, reaching over with her free hand to stroke along Bucky’s cheek, watching him close his eyes and relax under her touch. Lying on their sides facing each other, sweat still glistening on their skin from making love, they’d spent the last few minutes just existing, lower bodies tangled together, Bucky’s head resting on his outstretched arm while Levi played lazily with his scattered chest hairs, not speaking until Bucky had said those three little words.

“I love you too.” She replied, feeling the warmth of Bucky’s regard as he opened his eyes to gaze tenderly at her, those hypnotizingly blue eyes roaming over her face as if committing her to memory and he smiled again at her, reassuringly, his own free hand coming up to cradle her face, brush his thumb along her bottom lip.

Levi melted under his touch, letting the peace it brought her chase away the shadows inside. After picking the twins up from the airport and dropping Steve off with Peggy at her house, Bucky had taken Levi back to hers, pulled her up the stairs to her room and down onto her bed, kissing her with a desperation borne of months apart; pushing into her willing body with a ragged groan, both losing themselves all too soon in a shuddering release, only enough to take the edge off, before spending the next hours thoroughly ravaging each other, making love and fucking in turns, until they’d collapsed in a boneless tangled heap, no words needed between them until Bucky had whispered those three magic ones.

He didn’t say anything further, but Levi read it in his eyes. ‘I missed you. I’m so glad to see you. This has been so hard.’ and she let her own confessions reflect back. They didn’t speak about the impending future, the fact that they would have to climb back out of this bubble all too soon and face reality, that Levi was only here for a short time and then she’d be flying away again, back to a world only visible to Bucky through the screen of his laptop. They couldn’t, it hurt too much, cast too dark a cloud on their world.

Bucky rolled suddenly, to hover over Levi. Their lower bodies pressed together, he held his upper body up on his forearms and gazed down at her without speaking. His eyes travelled across her features, the expression on his face so intent and serious that Levi had the sudden thought that he looked like he was either about to break them apart or ask her to marry him.

She ran her hands up his biceps indulgently, humming in approval. In an attempt to distract himself this last year, Bucky had started working out in earnest; and the lanky, puppy dog limbs of before were now muscled and defined. Levi would have loved him, did love him, in any form, but to see his new frame, rivalling Steve’s, was a delicious sight and she’d been treated to an eyeful for hours, watching his powerful back bunch and flex with his thrusts, sitting on his thick thighs while impaled on his cock and embraced by the strength in his arms while he’d buried his face in her throat and groaned through his shuddering climaxes. He’d even let his hair start to grow out, seeming to shed the nice guy image of his past, embracing something a little darker and grittier, as if the solitude and darkness of their imposed isolation from each other had become a physical representation, something he projected outwards to succor the sorrow simmering inside.

His grin, in answer to her humming appreciation, brought a new level of joy to Levi’s heart, fuck, how was it even possible to find new levels of love for this man, to fall even further into him?

His hand reached up and, still without speaking, he traced along her cheek, following his fingertip’s journey with his gaze, an almost heart-breaking tenderness in his eyes, his brow creased in concentration and Levi realized he was memorizing her anew, committing her beneath him like this to memory, absorbing every tiny detail of this moment to help him get through the endless, dark ones later, when his body would ache to feel hers and be denied by distance and circumstances.

Finally, his eyes landed back on hers, having trekked across her whole face, and the grin that had faded to a faint, distracted curve of his sinfully full lips shone on her again.

He pushed into her slowly, watching her as he did, inhaling sharply as Levi sighed in relief to feel him so intimately again, her walls welcoming him with their tight warmth. He started to move his hips, slow and easy, holding her close and staring into her eyes. They didn’t speak, hardly made any sounds save for faint whimpers from Levi and quiet groans from Bucky but the intensity and intimacy between them built like wildfire anyway.

Bucky’s thrusts remained slow, languid and almost sultry but devastating in their precision and power, his spine arching sharply with each one and Levi reached down to feel his perfect ass flexing with his movement then scratched her nails lightly up his straining back to cradle his face. He dropped his head into the crook of her neck with a ragged groan, clutching her to him with renewed strength, their bodies pressed tightly together, hardly moving save for Bucky’s measured thrusts and Levi felt her orgasm rise steadily, building low in her belly.

“Bucky,” she whispered.

“Lev,” he groaned. “God baby, I’m there, I’m right there-”

The wave crashed, white heat scorching her, exploding out and she welcomed it, reveled in its power. She felt Bucky’s face contort with sweet pain against her pulse point; a bone-deep shudder running through him, his controlled thrusts suddenly erratic and then he groaned into her hair; a guttural, raw sound as he pulsed inside her, each jet hot and heavy and amplifying Lev’s own release, an infinity circle of giving and taking; scorching passion-

A shampoo bottle crashed to the floor, startling Lev out of her daze and reasserting reality. Her fingers had begun to probe between her legs and pleasure hovered in the shadows, brought on by her memories but her orgasm remained stubbornly out of reach, petulant and sulkily demanded only Bucky’s touch to complete itself. Levi groaned, body tight, and gave up, quickly finished cleaning herself, then stepped out, wrapping a towel around her body.

Pulling on her favorite yoga capris, Levi snagged a black muscle shirt and a hoody she’d swiped from Bucky on her last break then snatched her phone and earbuds off her desk and crashed noisily downstairs. The quiet of her room was not something she wanted to experience right now, the reminders of Bucky in her treasured messenger bag, the blanket that had once graced his bed that he’d given to her after she’d burrowed into it during a break, musing how it smelled so much like him and now wrapped herself in whenever she was feeling particularly vulnerable and missing him. Right now, everywhere she looked would hold some hint of him, and she wasn’t sure she could stand the reminders.

Steve was nowhere to be seen and Levi wandered into the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of ice water then gazing absently out the window as she leaned on the counter, sipping it.

Hearing a vehicle, she glanced around outside, searching for the prehistoric Civic the usual delivery guy drove, held together more with duct-tape and Bondo than metal, it’s color, where it could still be seen around the rust, sun-faded and dull. She gently teased the pizza guy on the regular about it and he only laughed and tried to flirt with her, offering a ride in his ‘vintage classic’ before winking cheekily at her and roaring away, decaying muffler blatting obnoxiously.

Lev had seen the guy around in a far newer sporty hatchback, so why he insisted on delivering pizzas in this old thing was a mystery, but it added zest.

She saw no familiar rust bucket, and leaned further, craning her neck to the driveway before the glass fell from boneless hands and crashed into the sink. Levi’s feet skidded on the hardwood floor and she almost slammed into the fridge before reaching the front door and throwing it open.

“Bucky?!” She shrieked.