#let me see if my tagging system will actually help me find/credit them

[asterdeer]

who am i if not someone who responds extremely late to tag games.......... but yeah lock screen + last song i listened to + last picture i took + last picture i saved, tagged by @winterssunday like a hundred years ago, ty ty ty!! this is so fun, i love getting to show off cat pics <3 <3 <3

tagging anyone who wants to do it, tag me so i can seeeeeee

[nardo-headcanons]

Hey my dear mutual! Another super stupid and weird request coming, so, please, feel totally free to ignore completely if you want, really. So, let's say instead of a criminal organization, the Akatsuki are actually a lab team. Which would be their roles, their work focus or their research topics? How would they behave at work with each other or, I don't know, whatever you can think of. Inspired by your agar plates post, by the way, hahahaha

Hello Sasuke, my dear. Don't call your asks weird, I love how creative they are! If anyone wants to write a fic about this please TAG me!

Big thanks to @the-real-sasuke-uchiha for requesting!

The Akatsuki in a modern research lab AU

Akatsuki Labs, Inc. No one knows what they're actually researching, and how they get their funding, however everyone hires them, they're incredibly popular with institutions and businesses alike...

Deidara is a lab rookie who is still at the beginning of his study. He went to a scientific high school and an absolute ace at chemistry. Besides studying chemistry, his other major is pyrotechnical engineering. He blows shit up on the regular and even adds copper sulphate to fires when he is the one supposed to put them out. He frequently steals minerals from the lab to use them for his pottery projects. And yes, he knows how to make meth.

Hidan is on his way to become a neurologist. He is fascinated by the way the nervous system works (especially while processing pain) and has the ego of a neurosurgeon twice his age. However he is regularly asked for a second opinion because he knows his shit. He's pretty popular with the ladies due to his confidence, however many of them are freaked out when they find out what a huge masochist he is.

I've never seen Itachi as a huge stem guy, but I've actually had a discussion about this with my dear moots @pet-plasma-bubble and @suki91 and came to the conclusion that he's either a plant biologist or studies medicine because he's one of these kids with a chronic and/or underdiagnosed illness going into medicine to make a change. Plant biologist!Itachi regularly talks to his plants when no one is looking and he gives them names as well. He doesn't really care much for the actual lab work and prefers to take care of the plants in the different lab greenhouses. Med student!Itachi is one of these anatomy girlies who draw their stuff in fancy colors and actually enjoy studying human anatomy.

Kakuzu is a senior scientist/professor who initially studied pharmacology/pharmacy to save many lives and prolong the lives of millions, but eventually got disillusioned and sold his soul to the pharma industry. He should technically be retired now, but he joined the Akatsuki labs inc to make some money on the side.

Kisame started out as a marine biologist specializing in shark research, however, seeing these beautiful, innocent creatures get bastardized by Hollywood and pollution made him apply to Akatsuki labs inc to help find solutions to the current crises caused by humanity. During his free time, he volunteers in a dolphin rehabilitation center.

Konan is the cofounder of Akatsuki labs inc, everyone respects her and even looks up to her. Once a brilliant scientist in the field of engineering, she got tired of how male dominated it was and how her male colleagues kept getting the credit for her ideas. She frequently holds lab courses for young girls interested going into the scientific field.

Nagato is the Akatsuki labs founder, and rarely seen in the lab. He has made himself a name in the field of robotics by inventing the Shurado robotics system which helps millions of automated machines run to this day. Rarely seen in the lab, he communicated with his employees via his Pain Alias Email. though to be fair, Konan writes most of these emails for him; she's the only one regularly talking to him face-to-face.

Orochimaru is a geneticist and biochemist, his focus being finding ways to avoid cellular decay, as well as the human genome and anti aging research. His parents are academics as well and he lived up to their expectations to the fullest. He has his own skincare formula which keeps him looking snatched at all times. Given the rumors about several scientific ethical code violations, everyone is kinda scared of him except for his personal lab tech, Kabuto.

Sasori is a renowed mortician who's also very interested in histology. His preparation techniques are unmatched and he even invented new preparation- and histological staining methods, which are called "Red Sand" and "Red Technique", respectively. He often gets into fights with Kakuzu about his microtome collection being unnecessarily expensive.

Tobi is the Akatsuki labs CEO cosplaying as a clueless intern that always steals from the candy bowl in the waiting room. In reality, he has a PHD in physics, his thesis being about rifts in space time and interdimensional interactions, however all of his papers are published under an alias. He has a soft spot for Deidara and refuses to fire him despite the latter's frequent "accidents".

Zetsu is a biological anthropologist fascinated by human evolution and human behavior. Some think even his colleagues are subjects of his studies. Some people say he's two-faced, but he is very chatty and inquisitive most of the time. He volunteered to have Itachi's venus fly traps in his office and can sometimes be seen feeding them dead flies or mosquitoes.

[hunnythebee]

Author Promo Tag Chain!!

Rule: post the first lines of your last 10 fics posted to Ao3. If you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics. Tag credit: @dangraccoon, @mandos-mind-trick (I got two tags 🥹)

Stow Away Din Djarin x OFC

She had been on this maker-forsaken planet for far too long. Her previous, let’s call them “partner”, had brought her here for a job… that was nearly a year ago. They abandoned her, left her here with a blaster and 50 credits to her name. Luckily, she was resourceful and cunning. She made her credits last long enough to find short-term work in a local ship scrapyard. That’s how she met Peli. Peli came by and saw her about to tear open an antique N-1 Starfighter, just about ripped her a new one over it and offered to buy it off her. She didn’t refuse, in fact she admired her for taking on the project. They became fast friends. Peli let her stay at her ship dock while she looked for proper lodgings, but they grew on each other. Her whole world was shifted when an opportunity presented itself. A man and a child landed in Peli’s hangar. It was a Mandalorian, sporting the shiniest beskar armor she had ever seen, and the kid was a species she did not recognize. The child was small, nearly infant sized, and green with large pointed ears.

Touches Wrecker x Reader

Being on Pabu was like living in a dream. Even after the devastation left in the wake of the tidal wave, it was pure serenity after being on the run for so long. When Hunter had announced that we were staying, even if for a short time, I felt a weight fall from my shoulders. The next day we all started to help with cleaning up around the village. Hunter was working with the Mayor to find people places to shelter while rebuilding. Tech and Phee were helping to assess what materials would be needed to rebuild. Omega was somewhere on the island with Shep’s daughter, which made me feel so happy that she had a friend her own age. As for me, I was on clean up with my favorite person and best friend. Wrecker. He could make any situation fun. In this case, we were competing for largest pile of seaweed. The houses were covered in it, and filling cart after cart had gone from tedious to exhilarating. Announcing over the comms what number we each were at every hour, kept us going all the way till sunset. After the day was done, we were invited to utilize the bathhouses that were located in upper Pabu. Actually it was more like we were begged to use the bathhouses because in truth we stank so bad after handling seaweed and sweating all day.

Trapped Hunter x Reader

The tunnel was so dark I couldn’t see too far past the lamp that I was holding up in front of me. It was cold and damp, and I could hear the faint rumbling of the storm above. Hunter was slightly ahead of me, holding his lamp in his left hand and running his right along the tunnel wall. He was understandably on edge, given the cave-in that had just separated us from the others. Tech had reassured us that there were multiple entrances to this particular tunnel system before we lost contact via comms. This knowledge, coupled with Hunter's keen senses, put my mind at ease.

Questions & Answers Crosshair x Reader

It had been an exhausting mission. The boys came back to me more beaten than usual. Wrecker collapsed the minute he got to one of the med-bay beds, followed closely by Hunter. Tech and Echo had some scrapes from debris but nothing major. Crosshair however, was untouched. A perk of being in the sniper’s position. I tended to those who were afflicted, moving methodically from bedside to bedside. The whole time I worked I could feel Cross’ eyes on me, following my every movement. I did my best to ignore him, but his stare was causing butterflies in my stomach and making my hands shake. I had been harboring a crush for him for the longest time, and him watching me like this wasn’t helping. I finished with Tech’s bandages and discharged him and Echo. I explained that Hunter and Wrecker were fine, aside from some cuts and bruises. The pair were just exhausted. Once they woke up they were free to leave as well. Finally I allowed myself to focus my attention on the brooding white haired man in the corner of the room who, despite his lack of injury, was still here.

Vulnerable Hunter x Reader

Ever since landing in Pabu I’ve had conflicting thoughts and feelings. On one hand, Pabu was paradise. Everyone else seemed so at ease and peaceful. It was small and tranquil with limited resources, definitely not the kind of place the Empire would care about. But then why… Why was I shaking so much? Why was my adrenaline pumping as though I needed to be ready for an attack? It made no sense. Even Hunter looked relaxed. I had excused myself from dinner, needing a quiet moment to collect myself. But that quiet moment had deviated from its intended purpose. Now I was sitting on the floor of the Maurauder, knees tucked to my chest, whilst shaking violently. Tears threatened my eyes but never fell, instead just stinging them as my heart rate rose violently and my chest heaved. I clutched at my sides, feeling as though if I didn’t that I would rip in half. My heart was hammering so loudly in my ears that I didn’t hear the hatch open or hear him come in, but there he was. Knelt in front of me was Hunter, care and concern flooded his beautiful golden eyes as he examined mine.

Jealousy Tech x Reader

I had been cordial, friendly even with Phee. She was decent… for a pirate. Not that we had been much better in recent times, so who was I to judge? But what had me sucking at my teeth while I glared from my seat behind Tech was the way she was touching him . So familiar. And this nickname she had for him always made my stomach twist. ‘ Brown eyes.’ How creative of her. I shouldn’t be so mad at her. She was going to help us afterall. Stars I just… I can’t figure out why she rubs the wrong way so hard. I was silent as the dead the whole trip to wherever she was taking us. I hadn’t realized I was clenching my jaw until it unclenched. My whole mouth fell slack at the sight of this small island civilization. Beautiful blue waters surrounded a mountain dotted with small white huts. It looked so peaceful, so serene. Tech landed the Maurauder at the peak of the mountain, where there stood a tall tree and an even taller temple-like structure. As I stepped out of the ship the warm sun hit my skin and I sighed in relief. My seething anger melted away from me almost instantly.

Forgiveness Crosshair & Howzer

Crosshair woke up back on Tantiss, but he wasn’t in his room. Instead he was in one of the cells in the detention sector of the base. He sat up on the hard bed and hissed at the pounding sensation in his skull.  “Was wondering when you’d wake up,” came a voice from the opposite side. Crosshair pressed a palm to his temple and turned towards the voice. His vision was still blurry from sleep but he knew it was definitely another clone sitting across from him.

Bare Hands Din Djarin x Reader

You were staring at him, and tonight you didn’t look away when he noticed. You held your gaze for as long as you were able, studying every feature. You were mesmerized. He wasn’t in his usual attire. He had purchased formal attire, seeing as they would not let you in otherwise. He wore a yellow deep v-neck tunic and an overcoat of brocade embroidered with a golden floral pattern. His Mythosaur pendant lay prominently on his tan skin. He wore no gloves, just a few golden rings. The ensemble that had been designed for you was in complete contrast. You wore a deep blue backless silk dress with a choker halter neckline and silver chains dangling around your shoulders. The fabric shown like stars in the sky.

Tag you're it!!

@neon-junkie @stankferrik @syndxlla @amiedala @laters-gators @too-many-sabers @echoleo @tecker @sirveltic @somedaylazysomeday

[verygoodcomments]

oh yes on the topic of submissions...

i had one from someone in my inbox from YONKS ago that tumblr is not letting me post for some reason. that person also sent me an ask about whether i could provide links to the videos/places i found the comments on (i would just answer their ask but it explicitly references their submission which, again, tumblr won't let me post... and also it was from ages ago) so let me answer that here

unless i think that mentioning the source amplifies the comment, or provides some humorous context, i usually don't do that as a general rule. if someone asks for the comment source and i still remember what it was, i'll tell them, but i don't tend to mention it explicitly on the post itself

i don't tend to redact pfps or usernames (to give some form of credit to the authors of the comments, sometimes they make the comment better, they're already public on the internet & usually posted on videos by youtubers exponentially more popular than my blog & usually post obscure comments i had to scroll for quite a while to find anyway, it's fun when someone recognizes their own username, etc etc), so this is an alternate method of security against people trying to be weirdos to the featured commenters. most of my posts come from youtube, which doesn't even have a direct messaging system anymore, which is simultaneously why i feel fairly comfortable leaving pfps/usernames unredacted on these comments and why i feel it's better if i try not to provide TOO many context hints at least in the actual text of the post. just on the off chance some bitter weirdo wants to try being a bitter weirdo, you know? and if someone goes all the way out of their way to try and track these comments down explicitly to bully these people, then at this point, it kinda seems like redacting that stuff wouldn't have helped anyway. while i definitely do not condone harassing anyone from here, i also... don't think it'd exactly be My fault there, and entirely the fault of this hypothetical extremely brainrotted rando. this has, to my knowledge, never once happened, but just putting that out there

i do give little hints or context notes in the tags on occasion, under the general assumption that anyone following this blog knows that this is a place of comment appreciation, an art gallery of Internet Humans. usually it only extends to mentioning the youtuber or what type of video it was, but as a general statement. this is the other part of my philosophy here: i enjoy hunting for comments as a sort of peoplewatching-esque hobby and i think other people should try it out (so long as they have the self-restraint to NOT reply to people even if they make you mad. it's never worth it man.). i also think it'd be a fun treat for someone to only get a hint, figure out what video it was, and then go on their own hunt and see the comments in the wild. i often skip over Loads that don't quite make the cut so you'll probably find something else fun in there

does that make sense? it does to me. anyway if anyone ever wants to know where i found a comment just ask and i'll tell you, so long as i remember. fair warning, the older the post the comment is on, the more likely i am to have forgotten what specific video it was. i usually at least have a vague idea of the original poster and/or the content/topic of the video but sometimes i don't

[everthewip]

Writer Positivity Tag

Thank you so much for tagging me @hallwriteblr!

I will also place the blank questions below the cut :)

1. What motivates you to write?

All sorts of things! Primarily, a simple desire for something to exist. I like to say I write first and foremost for myself. It's a story I want to create, and so I write. Of course, having readers who enjoy my writing is also a great motivator to keep going!

2. A line/short snippet of your writing that you are most proud/happy of. If not maybe share a line of someone else's work you love (just please credit them)

It was a dreary sort of storm, with clouds that blocked the morning sun in a case of steel gray and a thick mist that drained the reddish  hue of the overgrown heath below. It left nothing untouched and stole all color. Even the statue of the Gray Lady- erected centuries gone in the very center of the moor- resembled her namesaker; as gray as the sky, as the rain, as the dirty wool adorning the young woman who stumbled through the muck.

3. Which OC makes you smile every time you think/talk about them and what are they like?

Actually, and OC from my Skyrim-based fanfic! He's a fun, flirty, adventurous High Elf who drives my Dragonborn OC absolutely insane. I love him with all of my heart.

4. What process of writing do you enjoy the most?

The actual writing! I love it when the words flow and I feel driven and have the energy to actually write.

5. What part of writing do you think you are the best at? (Yes stroke your own ego it's okay).

The starting. I'm very good at starting things; I am very bad at finishing them.

6. What is something in the writeblr community is most enjoyable?

I'm honestly so new here that I don't know how to answer, but thus far I just really enjoy seeing everyone talk about their stories and characters and plans. I haven't interacted much yet, but I still see and am delighted!

7. A writing tool/device you use that helps you with writing? (It could be speech to text, a writing program etc)

Fonts. I almost always pick a specific font for what I'm writing and I find that really helps me feel inspired. I also find youtube videos of specific ambiance noises and settings to really help get in the scene and describe it well.

8. A piece of worldbuilding that you like in your own story? (It could be the magic system, a particular place in the story, a law etc)

I'm fond of the forest where the bulk of the story takes place. It has been altered through magic and turned into a prison, which has made it an unsettling place to end up in. But I think it's the magic itself I enjoy and the way it interacts with the environment and the people there. That's all I'll say for now, because this is a major plot point.

9. What piece of advice would you say to encourage others to write if they are having a rough patch?

I'm a big fan of not forcing something, but sometimes you actually have to make yourself sit down and start writing. Sometimes you'll find a groove and it'll start flowing; sometimes it won't. If it doesn't, then don't force it any further. Sometimes you have to let the writing come to you.

10. Tag some people whose works you love/have been your biggest supporters

No pressure to do this and I'm sorry if you've been tagged already! @janec23 @vhwrites @cosxima @stanrendipity

1. What motivates you to write?

2. A line/short snippet of your writing that you are most proud/happy of. If not maybe share a line of someone else's work you love (just please credit them)

3. Which OC makes you smile every time you think/talk about them and what are they like?

4. What process of writing do you enjoy the most?

5. What part of writing do you think you are the best at? (Yes stroke your own ego it's okay)

6. What is something in the writeblr community is most enjoyable?

7. A writing tool/device you use that helps you with writing? (It could be speech to text, a writing program etc)

8. A piece of worldbuilding that you like in your own story? (It could be the magic system, a particular place in the story, a law etc)

9. What piece of advice would you say to encourage others to write if they are having a rough patch?

10. Tag some people whose works you love/have been your biggest supporters.

[fictionverse]

How to publish an eBook on KDP (Kindle Direct Publishing)

I have spent the last three days optimizing my file to publish it via KDP; it's not easy, that much I can tell you. So let me share my findings with you - maybe it will help you waste less time than I did!

Add a table of contents to your eBook. Amazon wants you to do this later anyway. Its content should link to the corresponding page. (Word does this automatically with the table of contents function once you formatted headings)

Don't forget your copyright page. You need to create it yourself. There are examples online or you can have a look at a book on your shelf to imitate that.

Don't forget to set tags. It's optional on KDP but will make your work easier to find for potential readers.

You can either upload a cover or create a cover via KDP. If you use the cover creator, you can adjust the positioning of the book title, image and author credit. You can also change the font and size of any text. The color scheme can be changed as well. Of course, a professional cover will look nicer, but you can get some good results even as an amateur with this set-up.

Make sure to use the preview. Go through all devices (phone, tablet, reader) and check both vertical and horizontal view. You may be surprised how awful it looks. I sure was. You will have to experiment with your layout. Don't bother with footer and header - they are cut off and you cannot make them appear in the ebook.

If you use images, you need to first open up a line of text, then put the image in it (as image on line). Otherwise, the placement will be weird in the eBook.

The pricing system may seem overwhelming, but Amazon will suggest a price to you. Don't just think about where you make the most money. Think about what kind of price is appropriate for the work you put in, but also how many people would actually buy your work for this price. You can do some research. Find similar ebooks (unknown author, page count, genre) and see for how much they sell and how many reviews they have.

Be patient. The reviewing process may take up to 72 hours until your eBook finally appears on Amazon.

Good luck to you ~

If you have any advice that I forgot to mention, feel free to share.

[brawn-gp]

Ok lets talk about reposted content.

I’m not someone who likes to dwell on drama, but I honestly think that this shouldn’t be considered as such, because frankly: every single content creator I follow has talked about this issue before. And well, with the realization that most of my gifs are being spread out in twitter like they are freshly baked bread for everyone to share, my annoyance about this subject has only grown bigger over the time, so bear with me here, ok?

My problem is not that they are getting notes based on something thats not theirs, my problem is the lack of respect that these people have for content creators and the free content we put out. As we’ve mention thousands of times: we are not getting paid or anything, we are normal people with school, work or other things to worry about in real life. We dedicate hours in planing, making and perfecting the content we put out, so it shocks me that people are still reposting the content we make; on tumblr even, WHILE TAGGING IT IN OFFICIAL F1 TAGS. If you want something in your blog so badly, it literally costs nothing to press the reblog button; it’s right there, for all to see. 

And I know that crediting original posters is something that doesn’t exist in much of the internet: it is built around the belief that everything you see is yours for the take. Think about it: have you ever tried to find the source of your favorite meme or reaction gif? no? because honestly I can’t say i have either. But tumblr is BUILT with the intentions of not having to repost anything: from the search for gifs function, to the tagging system, to the most basic tool we have: the reblog button.

The worst part of all, is that in my case, this person reposted my 100 lewis not even an hour after i had posted my edit. And with one look in that blog, I saw that not only my content was being reposted. Sometimes is straight up making the same post, and other times is doing a “recap of what happened today”. Both things are reposting, stop pretending like it’s not. Questions are bound to roam in my mind, like, do people actually care about the person behind the post you liked so much? and I know that most of you reading will of course say yes. After all, is just a few amount of people reposting (on tumblr), while most of you know how to press a button lmao.

But I guess enough is enough. Please, if you see someone posting a clearly stolen creation, call them out! or send the post to the original poster so they can have a word with them. Also be mindful in what you reblog: trust me, content creators will not put in a post with different sized gifs, different colorings and different caption fonts; usually those posts have gifs that were stolen from a bunch other gifsets. The same goes with photo edits. I know it may be “simpler” than making gifs, but the person that made that edit still spent a lot of their time making the photo look as good as you see it here, and most of the time, they have a distinctive coloring or style. And I’m sure there are still a lot of things i do unconsciously when it comes to sharing and creating, but I honestly think its necessary that we become conscious on these things. I’m really not trying to point fingers or anything, I just think that sometimes we forget about the person behind the edit, so considering these things may help us into moving towards a more ethical way of sharing content, thats all. 

tldr; stop stealing content, and be mindful in what you reblog.

[bibbawrites]

Traditions - Charlie Gillespie & Owen Joyner x  Reader

Request: none, just my submission for @cherrymaybank​’s valentine’s day fic party :)

Word Count: 1054 words

Summary: your valentines day traditions get invaded by your two best friends but you’re not gonna complain about it

Warnings: underage drinking?

A/N: so this is my submission for the valentines day fic party, hopefully you guys like it, its just a little something i wrote last night while listening to today was a fairytale on repeat the relationship in this is technically platonic but can 100% be seen as more if you want it to be (and its implied that it is hehe ) ;) but yeah figured i’d just post this before i reread it too many times and decided i hate it  enjoy! 

Tag List: @happinessinthedarkesttimes @littlemissaddict @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @headheartbellarke @lovesanimals @bartok-the-magnificent @juliefromaustralia @multi-universe21 @rangerelik @kaitieskidmore1

“Do you have plans tonight?” Charlie’s voice came from behind you, causing you to jump. 

You spun around to find him and Owen, staring at you expectantly. 

“No, why?” You questioned. 

“It’s Valentine’s Day.” Owen said, giving you a look like it was obvious as to why they were asking. 

“And?” You had never really been one to care for Valentine’s Day, hating the commercialism and how expensive candy got around that date. 

“And we were wondering if you had plans. You know, some handsome mystery man to take you to dinner and buy you roses and kiss you when he drops you home.” Charlie pretended to swoon and Owen smacked him. 

“Dude.” Owen groaned. You smiled slightly. 

“Yeah, no. No handsome mystery man, no roses and definitely no kisses. Just me, a bottle of red wine and the movie Valentine’s Day.” You said. As much as you hated the day, you had a tradition to uphold. 

Every year since it had been released you had watched Valentine’s Day, a tradition fueled purely by your love for Taylor Swift and your celebrity crush on Taylor Lautner. You knew the movie was cheesy but you couldn’t help but watch it every year. It was a tradition after all. 

“Want company?” Owen asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. 

“What, you two don’t have hot dates with pretty girls?” You teased. 

“That depends, are you gonna say yes to letting us join you?” Charlie flirted. You smacked his arm lightly and he grinned cheekily at you. 

“Fine. But one of you is ordering me takeout. And bring more wine, I don’t want to share mine. Be there at 7.” 

And with that you spun around and walked away, leaving the two boys to high five behind you. 

- 

Exactly 7pm on the dot there was a knock on the door of your apartment. 

You opened the door to find Owen and Charlie, flowers and wine in their hands and large grins on their faces. 

“Wow, did hell freeze over? You two are actually on time.” You teased. 

“Couldn’t keep our date waiting.” Owen grinned, handing you the bouquet of roses in his hands and you smiled softly at the sweet gesture, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. 

“Thank you.” You said. Owen blushed slightly, stepping past you so that you could greet Charlie, who was waiting, two bottles of red wine in his hands. When you looked at him he lifted the bottles. 

“I brought alcohol.” Charlie grinned. You laughed. 

“Perfect way to my heart.” You joked, placing a kiss on his cheek too. 

“Come on, let’s get settled and order some food, I’m starving.” 

You lead them into your living room, the movie already loaded up on the TV, three wine glasses waiting on the coffee table. 

“Figure out what we’re having for dinner, I’m gonna put these in a vase.” You told them, taking one of the wine bottles from Charlie to place in the fridge. They nodded, settling down on either end of your small couch. 

You left them to discuss, entering your kitchen and finding a vase, filling it with water for the roses. 

“Y/N, do you eat Chinese food?” Owen called. You nodded, before realising they couldn’t see you. 

“Yeah.” You replied. 

“Great, what do you want?” Owen’s voice came again. 

“Sweet and Sour Chicken, and Fried Rice.” You said, re-entering the room. Owen nodded, pressing a few things on his phone. 

“Okay it’s ordered. 25 minutes it says.” He informed you. 

“Awesome, should we start the movie?” You suggested. The boys nodded. You sat down between them, on the edge of the couch to pour the three glasses of wine, offering one to each of them. 

Once you all had a glass of wine you pressed play on the movie, before settling back into the couch, smiling to yourself when both boys leaned into you. You loved how affectionate the boys were, and you just knew this was going to be a great night. 

- 

Twenty five minutes later there was a knock at your door. You paused the movie, Charlie going to pay for and collect the food while you grabbed some paper plates from the kitchen to save washing up later on. 

“Fancy.” Owen laughed when you brought the plates back into the room. You grinned. 

“Only the best for our fancy date.” You teased. Charlie re-entered the room, your food in hand, and in no time at all you were all tucking into the food, the movie continuing to play as you ate. 

- 

“We should probably go, we have to be on set early tomorrow.” Owen said as the credits played, Today Was A Fairytale filling the room. You nodded, understanding. 

The three of you stood up and you walked them to the door, waiting as they pulled their shoes back on. 

“Thank you for this.” You spoke. “This was way better than watching it alone.” 

“And way less pathetic.” Charlie joked. 

“True.” You agreed. Charlie leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before pulling away. 

“Um, pretty sure that wasn’t in your plan.” You said. Charlie frowned. 

“Remember earlier? A handsome mystery man taking me to dinner and buying me roses and kissing me when he drops me home?” You reminded him. “Owen brought me flowers, and you brought me dinner, so where’s my kiss?” 

Both boys hesitated, not quite knowing what you expected from them. You rolled your eyes playfully. 

“I’ll do it myself then.” You said, stepping towards Charlie and placing a quick kiss on his lips, before repeating your actions with Owen, blaming the wine in your system for your boldness. 

“Doesn’t count, the handsome mystery man was supposed to kiss you.” Charlie spoke up after a moment, clearly regaining his confidence. Owen was still staring at you, wide eyed. Charlie took a step closer, leaning in to kiss you again but you pushed him away with a laugh. 

“Nice try Gillespie.” You said and he grinned. 

“Was worth a shot. Come on Owen.” He grabbed onto the blond boy’s shoulder, Owen startling slightly at the contact. You giggled slightly, watching as Charlie dragged Owen down the hallway. 

And as they rounded the corner you shut the door with a grin. 

Maybe Valentine’s Day wasn’t so bad after all. 

[band--psycho]

Bucky Barnes x Reader-A Stupid Plan

Kicking the new year off the right way with this request!

Requested by Anon-I wanted to send in a Bucky imagine. Maybe where you're best friends but you have feelings for each other but don't talk about it. When you finally have the courage to tell him, you see him with another girl at the compound (talking, smiling..) so you leave the scene heartbroken and avoid him since that day. He feels sad without you and misses you so he tries to find a way to show you his feelings and explains that it was a misunderstanding & he only wants you?

Thank you for such an awesome request, I kinda got a bit carried away with this but I hope you enjoy it! 

Y/Ns POV

A startled yelp works it’s way up my throat before I can think to stifle it, panic setting in as I find myself suddenly airborn and thrown over a meaty shoulder. My mind was racing with ways to free myself but no matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t seem to break free from the hold. I tried to recall the moves Bucky had taught me in training, but all the memories seemed to blur into one as I attempted to focus on getting free from the hold. I knew Bucky would kick my ass for such a delayed reaction, but it all comes to a halt at the sound of a familiar throaty chuckle.

“Bucky?!Buck, Really?” Propping myself up as best I can, my grip slips as he loosens his hold, arms tightening just as I slip down to his chest. I felt butterflies erupting in my stomach at the thought of him holding me so close with one arm.

“We spoke about this, doll,”  He replies with a lilting tone, the amusement in his eyes clear as day, though I knew him well enough to recognise the underlying reprimand. I was too slow. Bucky was constantly reminding me to always keep my guard up and be prepared for any and all threats. 

“What if I was someone else?” He asked, with a tilt of his brow. 

“Then I’d have a hell of a lot to say to Tony in regards to his security systems,” I joked, causing him to shake his head as a small smirk graced his face, the familiar banter flowed seamlessly, helping to settle my nerves slightly.

Falling in love was never something I planned on. Least of all with my best friend, not that he knew. It took me a long time to admit to myself that had feelings for Bucky, to some of the people that knew me best it was obvious. Nat and Wanda knew how I felt about Bucky even before I truly did. Anytime they’d mention if I’d brush it off, tell them that they were just imagining things and that we were just friends. Wanda said that that’s how all the best love stories start, not that I paid much attention to what she said. Until things began to change...my feelings for him started to change, whenever I saw him I’d get this warm feeling in my heart, and I found myself worrying about how I looked around him. When I admitted to Nat and Wanda how I felt, they laughed, revealing in their triumph that they were right about how I felt, they said it was obvious by the way I looked at him; they said that they noticed the little twinkle in my eyes that would appear whenever  I was with him, whether it be training, talking or just simply being around him. It made me question if he knew. 

~~~~~

Third Person POV

“Maybe this isn’t a good idea,” Y/nmuttered running a hand through her hair.

“It’s gonna be fine!” Wanda reassured, putting her arm round Y/n comfortingly,pulling her into a friendly side, making sure not to smudge any of the makeup Nat had decorated her face with.

“You look absolutely stunning, Y/n/n, he’s gonna love you,” Nat encouraged with a warm smile on her face.

“Now c’mon, let’s go,” she continued, extending her hand to Y/n, pulling her up with a small smirk on her face. 

“You’ve got this,” Wanda whispered in Y/ns ear as they made their way out of the room to the party. 

~~~~~

The party at the compound had only been going for about half an hour before Y/n made a swift exit,retreating back to her room. The water from her eyes mixed with the mascara she was wearing, causing trickles of black tears to stain her face. Y/n thought she had everything figured out, she was going to mingle with the other avengers for a while and then she was going to pull Bucky aside and take him to the terrace and admit her feelings to him...it all sounded so simple and romantic. But what Y/n hadn’t expected was to see another girl with Bucky. She was stunning. Her body was pressed closed to Buckys, one had lightly wrapped around his neck whilst the other stroked up and down his arm, meanwhile Buckys hands were sitting delicately on the girls waist, both of them laughing and smiling at each other in unison. The sight was enough to break Y/ns heart. She couldn’t work out what she hated more, the fact that she didn’t admit her feelings to him sooner or the fact that she let herself fall for him in the first place. They were friends and that’s all they could ever be even if Y/n wanted something more. 

~~~~~

Buckys POV

“It’s been three days, Steve,” I sighed, putting his head in his hands. I knew I never should’ve gone along with Starks plan, I should’ve listened to Steve and just been honest with Y/n. I’d love to say that I didn’t know what possessed me to listen to him, but that would’ve been a lie. I know why I listened to Stark instead of Steve because I was scared. Scared of rejection, of ruining our friendship for feelings only I felt. But by following Starks plan I managed to ruin our friendship anyway. The plan was to make her jealous so that she would admit if she felt anything for me...not to make her avoid me. I missed her. I missed everything about her, from our conversations and training sessions to just being around her in a comfortable silence.

“I miss her,” Steve just placed his hand on my shoulder at my words, a solemn smile coming across his face. 

“She’s hurt, Buck, you’d be the same if you saw her with another man.” He said simply and I knew he was right...I needed to tell her how I truly felt. I needed to tell her that I loved her and hope that it wasn’t too late. 

“Buck, where are you going?”

“To find Y/n/n and tell her how I feel, like I should’ve done,” I explained simply, leaving the room to go and find her. 

~~~~~

Third Person POV

Bucky quickly found Y/n, she was training. Releasing all the hurt, anger and sadness in every punch, the tears brimming in her eyes as she thought back to the party.  Bucky silently snuck towards her, worried if he announced himself she’d run away and he’d lose his chance. When he was just mere steps away from her, Y/n turned round with her fists still clenched, missing Buckys face by mere inches. 

“Sorry,” she muttered out reluctantly, part of her horrified at the fact that she nearly hit him, the other part of her wishing her fist had actually hit him. She went to make a quick exit but was stopped when she felt Buckys hand on her shoulder forcing her to face him.

“Can we talk,” he wasn’t asking a question, he was more pleading with her, begging her to let him explain. 

“I don’t think we have a lot to say to each other,” Y/n replied, trying to break free from his grip but to no avail.

“Doll, let me explain,” Bucky began calmly.

“You don’t need to explain anything,”Y/n interjected, cutting him off. The slight venom in her voice catching Bucky off guard.

“You’re with that girl and I’m happy for you, I’m happy that you’re happy because you deserve it but-“ 

“I’m not with her,” Bucky answered simply, causing Y/ns eyes to grow wide with confusion.

“Wh..what,” Y/n stuttered out, unsure if the words she heard were real.

“It was..it was part of Starks plan to make you jealous, the plan was that you seeing me with that girl would make you jealous and that if you did have any feelings for me you’d admit them,” an ashamed look came upon his face as he uttered those words.

“But instead I ended up losing you,” Bucky breathed out, the sadness washing over him as he let go of her arm, coming to terms with the fact that he’d lost the woman he loved.

“I’m so sorry, doll, I should’ve just told you the truth, I should’ve told you that I love you, you’re the only person I want,” the tears filling his eyes as he declared his true feelings, preparing for rejection. But no words came from Y/n. Instead he felt her soft hand caress his cheek, before rising up slightly on her tiptoes to place a delicate kiss on his lips. As soon as their lips touched both of them felt like there hearts could explode with sheer joy.

“I love you, too” she whispered against his lips, a beaming smile coming across both of their faces at her admission.

(Credit to the gif owner)

Tagging those who may enjoy this fic: 

@little-diable @xacatapelsyx @sarcasticallywitty15 @amythedvdhoarder @drabblewithfrannybarnes @chrissquares 

[barcaavengers]

Weakness || Bucky Barnes Imagine || Pt. 4

Note: Here we go! This part is mostly a short fluffy moment. Reader being there for Bucky when he talks to Yori, and supporting him when he admits he will always be missing a key person in his amends. Next part will probably be more fluff, domestic and carefree Bucky cause we all know the Wilson's bring out the best in him. I'm thinking of what else to add to it so I want you guys to tell me what you'd like to see in part 4!

Updated: The first posting was all messed up and cut parts for some strange reason so it is now updated correctly!

Disclaimer: Gif not mine. All credits belong to @ryangoslings Tag List: ❤️ @hanakin-im-panakin, @evie-pr, @justinekomwriterkru, @felicityofbakerstreet, @maaaaryx, @ijustwantedplums, @winterberryfox, @ttatum14, @pastelbabygirl19, @love-buckybarnes, @forever-aimless, @izzlenizzlebizzle @pastel-boy-sungjae, @johnmurphys-sass, @ren-ni, @rachelizabethgraham

"This looks so different…" Bucky says as you two walk down the streets of Manhattan. "Steve and I would come to a hot dog stand on that corner after school. I would get him the same order every day" he says as you two walk.

"Wow, the same order" you smirk.

"He felt bad whenever I paid him, it was the cheapest order so he always asked for it no matter how many times I told him he could order something else."

"I have always admired your loyalty to each other" you say. "Never gave up on each other, always had each other's back no matter what."

"There was a time we were all we had left" he says and you could hear the nostalgia in his voice.

"Well, things change now" you bump into him and he chuckles, hands tucked in his jacket pockets. "You are not alone. You got Sam and you got me" you smile at him and he looks at you, smiling back. How much you loved this happy side of him was beyond words.

"I couldn't be more thankful," he says. His hands fall from his pocket and for a moment you see him hesitate after lifting one hand, until he realizes you were on his left side, so he drops it.

"You can do it, you know?" His eyes go wide for a moment, like if you have read his mind.

"Was it that obvious?"

"A little" you giggle and you can see his cheeks flushing. You reach for his gloved hand, but he moves it out of your reach. "Easy steps, remember?" You pause as you look at him. He nods his head before moving his hand to yours and you hold it. "So…" you trail off and get close to him, taking his arm and wrapping it over your shoulder. "This is what you wanted to do, right?" You ask him with a smile.

"Too predictable?" He asks.

"Not at all," you grin. You notice he is almost hovering it, he is touching you alright but not letting it actually drop on your shoulder. "Relax," you say. He let out an air through his nostrils before he rests it completely. The arm wasn't that heavy, or it wasn't to you. You haven't said anything about the Serum still having a slight effect on you although you have slowly felt it leaving your body.

"Thank you, for being so patient," he looks down at you as you two walk down Central Park.

"I told you I'd wait for you, I meant that" you admit. "I'm sure you will get the hang of being around a girl real quick again" you tease.

"I wonder what Steve said to you about me" he chuckles.

"That you got all the girls, even the dates you got for him" you smirk. "A true charmer" you say playfully.

"Jerk" he chuckles. "I didn't even try."

"With those looks? Of course you didn't try. One word and girl's would show you their ankles in one go" you laugh.

"Now I see enough ankles" he looks around and you elbow his side playfully and he pretends to be hurt.

"Don't you dare look other girl's ankles, Barnes" you tease.

"I'll try," he chuckles. "How have you been feeling though?"

"It's...almost gone" you shrug. "I mean, I feel it still but it isn't like the first time."

"I don't like that," he frowns.

"I know. If that stays in my system you won't see me as someone you have to save or help cause I can take care of my own."

"It has never been about that, doll" you duck your head so your hair falls and covers your cheek. The word making your cheeks flush instantly. "I'll still be there to save you, and you don't need saving so it isn't even that. You don't need help. I'm just worried of the toll it could have on you. That was a prototype, we don't know the side effects it could have…" he admits.

"Hopefully none" you bite your lower lip.

"We will figure it out," Buck says as he stops to pull his phone out when it starts ringing. "Sam?" You eye him curiously as he answers.

"Look at those lovebirds, taking a walk through the park like old people" you hear Sam on the other side of the phone. Your eyes look around the green areas, but he was nowhere to be found.

"Considering I'm a hundred and six" Bucky is looking for him too, dropping his arm off your shoulder.

"You dumbasses realize that I can fly, right?" That makes you two look up and you squeak at the sight.

Sam was above you, his wings and uniform were different, more white than the colors that Steve used to wear for his Captain America uniform. It was a sight. He lands perfectly in front of you, wings extended before they get concealed.

"Holy shit, is that what you asked Shuri to do?" You ask Bucky.

"Just a little something," he shrugs.

"Damn, Sam." You laugh as you go around him, his wings coming out scaring you off making him laugh.

"You like it?" He asks.

"I do" you say and squeak again at the shield on his back. "Oh, that's awesome." You say as you poke the shield.

"Thanks, man." Sam says to Bucky with a grin.

"No problem." Bucky says with a nod of his head. "What's up?"

"Karli is going to try to sabotage the votes in the GRC tonight" Sam says.

"If you give me a chance to change to something more comfortable I can be there."

"Alright. Voting starts in an hour. I'll send you the coordinates" he says and the jetpack initiates. "Sorry for ruining your date!" He shouts as he goes up to fly away.

"Right," your lips pressing together and you turn to Bucky. "You are going to change too?"

"Nah, I think I'm good. I'll go with you."

"If you want you can go and meet with Sam. I'll be quick" you shrug. He eyes you and you tilt your head, "I'll be fine, Buck."

"Be fast," he says and pecks your lips before he walks away without a glance back at you. It takes you a second to process that gesture before you start running back to your place.

When you get into the building, Sam, Bucky and Sharon were already inside in their respective places for the mission. Karli was forcing everyone out, which you had to admit, it was quite smart. Then you find yourself in the garage of the building where the armored cars with the Senators were leaving from. "Bucky?"

"I'm here," he says as he comes from your side. "Karli distracted me on the phone." He says as he takes the keys from one of the bikes, tossing it to you before he gets on one of them. "You are coming with me."

"Seriously guys, you had one job," Sharon says from your earpiece.

"You worry about your guy" Bucky says as he accelerates the bike. "Stay behind me." You nod your head before reviving the engine and taking off as instructed.

When you arrive at the meeting point of the Flag Smashers, Bucky turns to you, "You still have that adrenaline rush?" He asks, not stopping his bike.

"I think so!" You shout.

"Get ready!" And with that he hits the break of the bike, sending him forward and he tackles one of the group.

You jump off yours before taking the bike by the handles and flinging it forward to the group, taking down two of them at once. You are quick to run to them and kick one on the side, sending him back a few feet away, the other one comes at you and you avoid their hits for a moment before they take both of your arms. You screech as they try to hold you back but you are quick to kick the back of the knee of one of them, making her lose her grip before you move backwards behind the other person, making them follow you for a moment which gives you the chance to use their weight to your advantage and fling them over you and to the floor with a loud thud.

"Karli!" You shout as you see the group lighting up both trucks. Bucky is quick to try to open one and you go for the other one but to no avail.

"Morgenthau!" Walker's voice echoes and your eyes widened and you look at Bucky.

"How the hell does he keep showing up?!" You ask, but not really expecting an answer.

John is getting beaten by the Flag Smashers and Bucky is quick to save him from one of them, and you get to Karli, kicking her on the side, sending her against a fence. "Don't make us do this, Karli." A member of the group catches you off guard and wraps their arm around your neck, Karli delivers a few punches into your stomach that takes your breath away before punching you in the face. You are let go of and drop to your knees. Yep, the Serum was wearing off. Your vision was blurry, but you see Karli kicking Bucky and you see him sliding to the edge of the construction site before falling, hearing his scream. "Bucky!" You shout and are quick to stand up and run to the edge.

Everything keeps happening in quick blurs. John helps hold back the falling truck you couldn't open, and he manages to almost do it until the group kept going at him making them all fall to where Bucky was. Sam stops the truck from falling and is able to open the doors thanks to Redwing, so you help the Senators before jumping down to where your friends were. Batroc throws smoke grenades and Karli and her crew escape your sight until Sam identifies them and you follow, along with Walker.

Next thing you know, Sam is bringing Karli's body and talking with the senators and you had to lean against one of the trucks to process her death. Of course you didn't know her, but she was just a kid fighting for a very good reason but in the wrong ways. She was just a kid.

The next morning, the sound of a knock on your door woke you up. You lazily stand up, dragging your legs across the floor to your apartment door. Usually you would ask before opening the door, but you were too tired from the fight from last night to even be careful. When you open the door, you find the Sergeant right in front of you. "Hi" he breathes out. "Sorry, I- I didn't mean to wake you up."

"No. It's okay. Um...Come in" you step aside and he walks in. His cerulean eyes look around your apartment while you close the door. "Is everything okay?"

"Uh, yeah. It's just...I want to go visit someone, you know, about what Sam talked to me about...I was wondering if you wanted to come with me. If not it's okay. It's early but-"

"Yeah," you interrupt him and he sighs in relief. "Just let me change real quick before we go" you pat his chest as you walk to your room, leaving him behind you. You pull your shirt over your head, tossing it to the side and grabbing a bra and pulling it on, then throwing a shirt on. You reach for your jeans and step on them in front of the mirror, only to catch Bucky's eyes before they drift away like the gentleman he is.

He takes you in his bike to his destination, your arms wrapped around his waist. This felt too... intimate and your head can't help but wander off at the situation, you have to shake your head when things get heated in that daydreaming you were having. He parks the bike on the street side and turns it off. He was quiet, jaw clenched, eyes showing his concentration.

"Buck?" You call as you step out of the bike, following him. "Are you sure you are ready?" You ask him as you step in front of him.

"Yeah…" he clears his throat and your head tilts to the side.

"I'll be out the door, okay?"

"I don't know where to start…" he admits, looking at the entrance of the building. He was nervous, fidgeting with his own fingers, his voice slightly trembling.

"You will when it comes to it" you nod your head. You take his vibranium hand in yours and give it a reassuring squeeze. "Just one more name and you will be free, Bucky." A smile goes up your lips and his head nods.

"I know... It's just...he trusted me from day one. Telling him this about his son after so long…"

"I'm sure Yori will understand, not right away, but he will" he returns the squeeze of your hand before letting go. He walks inside and you follow him closely. He hesitates in front of the door before knocking. You lean against the wall, he looks back at you and you nod your head before his eyes return to the door as it opens.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" Yori asks as he looks at James. "It's early, come in before someone calls the cops" the man says before he catches your form a few feet away. "Is she with you?" He asks.

"Uh, yeah, but don't worry about her…" Bucky waves off. You nod your head to the man with a smile before Bucky walks in and the door closes.

You wait patiently outside, your head resting against the wall and closing your eyes. Not even twenty minutes go by until you hear the door opening and Bucky walking out, shutting the door close behind him. You could see he was on the verge of tearing up, the tip of his nose red, his shoulders hunched and his head hanging low. "Bucky," you call quietly and he looks at you. He walks up to you and you wrap your arms around him. "Hey, it's okay. It's okay…" you coo as he holds you close to him, the few tears he let out wetting your shirt. "You gave him closure, Bucky. You gave yourself closure. You did the right thing…"

"He won't forgive what I did. What I did to his son…" his voice was shaking and it broke your heart into a million pieces.

"He won't forget, but he will understand later that it wasn't really you. I promise" your hand moves to the back of his head, your fingers soothingly moving along his scalp.

After a few seconds, he pulls away before taking his book out of his jacket pocket, taking out a pencil as well and scratching the name off his book. He stares at the book for a moment, looking at all the names he has crossed. Your hands place on top of his and you press your lips against the back of his palms, he looks down at you and nods his head before sighing and putting the book back on his pocket. "I need to do one more stop…"

After taking the bag with the book and an envelope with Bucky's gratitude. He takes you back to your place. You don't remove your arms from around his waist until after he turns the bike off. "Feeling better?" You ask, your chin resting on his shoulder blade.

"I do," he says with a nod of his head.

"Come on," you say and pat his back before stepping out of the bike and walking to your apartment. He is quiet as he walks with you and comes through the door, sitting on your couch. "We have to drink for today" you say as you walk to your fridge and pull two beers out, tossing one to him which he is quick to catch with his vibranium arm. "For closures, for partners, and for the beginning of something new" you say with a smile as you sit beside him.

"Cheers to that" he raises his beer before the two bottles make a crystal sound as they bump into each other. He takes a sip from his drink and stares at the bottle afterwards, his mind somewhere else.

"Steve would be proud, you know?" The mention of his best friend's name makes his eyes light up. "I know I am" you say as you take a swig.

"I thought I would never be able to finish that list," he says. "There's still one person I couldn't even apologize for what I did back then. I know they hated me for it but-"

"You are talking about Tony?" His head nods. "He never brought it up after what happened" you say. "Tony felt betrayed, Steve kept that from him, never mentioned it. That alone and the accords complicated things to a different level."

"That was a horrible moment…"

"Tell me about it" you say and take a sip of your beer, so does he. "I had to step out, I couldn't fight Tony, I couldn't fight Steve or you. The best thing I did was to stay out of it. I couldn't have forgiven myself if I fought any of you…" you say. "Tony wouldn't have admitted it...but I know he knew it wasn't something you could've controlled."

"Even then, I never got a chance to say something about it…" he says as he fidgets with the bottle. His cheekbones doing that thing you couldn't describe but you found attractive…

"I'm sure he understood in the long run…" you assure him. Bucky was looking at the floor, lost in thought.

"Hey, no. Let's not ruin the good moment we were having" you whine as you lean against him and he let out a soft chuckle. "We have to celebrate later with Sam. He is officially out there as Captain America," you raise your bottle and grin.

"True" you can see how proud Bucky was of Sam by the smile that appeared on his lips. "I'm glad he took the shield back."

"I'm sure he is too, and he will do a great job. He already did with that speech." There is a moment of silence. "I'll go get another one, you want one too?" You ask him noticing his beer was about to be empty.

"Uh, yeah, sure" he lifts it up.

You walk towards the kitchen and open the fridge, pulling two beers. "I have to restock-" you say as you turn around only to be met by Bucky's body a few inches away. His gaze was soft as he looked down at you. You could feel his hot breath close to you, and you were sure he could hear the fast beating of your heart. His tongue runs along his lips, and you can't help but bite on your lower lip as you look up into his eyes. "Bucky-"

"I just...want to try something…" his vibranium takes the beers from your hands and sets them aside, then resting it against the fridge, caging you, but where in any other situation you would've been defensive, you were calm because this was all Bucky, not the Winter Soldier. His other hand moves to the side of your neck, his fingers resting on the nape of it, moving ever so slowly. You can feel your cheeks flushing, your breath hitching as he leans in, his lips pressing against yours slowly. Three times you two have kissed, three times he has kissed you differently and three times you have felt different.

The first kiss was an impulse of yours, very out of place, but he kissed back anyway, even if it was a liplock kind of kiss. You felt guilty about it, you felt like you took advantage of the situation and you two had a small argument about how you shouldn't apologize for it. The second back at Sam's house which he initiated. It lasted somewhat longer than the first one, it was something that happened with the moment because you were talking about your status. Now this, which you wanted to kiss him as much as he wanted to try that something. You melted into the kiss, trying to mold your body against his. Your hands rest on both sides of his hip ever so lightly, your lips moving slowly against his, his tongue brushing your upper lip. Your head tilts, deciding to test the waters by deepening the kiss, and you were glad when he didn't pull away like the first time.

His body presses closer to yours and your fingers curl around his shirt, unconsciously pulling him closer. Your teeth graze his lips and he hums, and gosh you would lie if that didn't awaken something in you. He pulls away slightly, and you take the chance to get your breathing in check, your eyes open slowly while his remain close for a few more opens until his eyelids lift. "You good?" You ask under your breath and he nods, noticing he was short of breath as well. One of your hands let go of his shirt, moving up his side and wrapping around his neck, the one on your neck moves to your waist, holding you close to him but he leaves against the fridge his metal arm.

His lips connect with yours again, this time isn't slow, it's more urgent and you can't help but give into it. You bring him closer, if possible, as you tilt your head to deepen the kiss. Your tongue trails his lower lip, and he grants the access, a soft moan escaping your lips as his own intertwine with yours. His finger traces your skin where your shirt rolled a bit and you shiver under his touch at the contact of his hand touching a part of skin he hadn't touched before.

Then your phone goes off and you break the kiss, your forehead resting against his as you pant, so does Bucky. "I-"

"Yeah. It could be urgent…" he clears his throat and drops his left hand from the fridge and the one on your back. You look at his lips one last time, catching your breath before walking to the table and picking up your phone.

"Hey, Sam" you say as you look at Bucky who slowly turns to face you.

"Hey, kiddo. Just wanted to invite you and Barnes to a cookout my family will have tomorrow."

"Oh, uh" you look at Bucky who shrugs. "Sure, I'll let him know."

"He already knows, huh?" Sam chuckles.

"Shut up, Sam," you say playfully.

"Well, be safe. Have fun. Not too much fun though" Sam chuckles.

"Weren't you the one to tell us to take baby steps?"

"Depends on how big the baby already is."

"Sam!"

"I'll see you two tomorrow! Bye now!" And he hangs up.

You stare at the phone in your hand before sighing. "Cookout tomorrow?" You offer the man an apologetic smile, tapping your phone against your palm.

"Would be nice to go back," Bucky shrugs, leaning against the kitchen counter. "I go if you go."

"Only if you want to" you walk to the counter, standing on the other side of it so it was the only thing between you two. "We can take the first flight tomorrow. I can go and pick you up," you shrug. Then you have that idea… "Or you-" you stop yourself. Nope. Too straightforward. "Nevermind."

"What were you going to say?" His head tilts, eyeing you curiously.

"Oh, nothing" you put your phone down on the counter and scroll through the airline app looking for a flight. "There is a flight tomorrow at 5am. We can get there early to spend some good time there." Best attempt to change the subject, but when you look up, Bucky is eyeing you. "Oh, no. I'm not gonna talk."

His lips purse and he walks around the counter and you curse under your breath. "Would it be that bad?"

"Terrible actually," you swallow harshly as he stands in front of you, his arms crossing against his chest making his biceps bulge out. Why was he like this? His head nods in agreement, but he has that face that you know he won't let go of it until you speak up. You sigh. "Fine," you pause. "Can I walk you through a hypothetical?"

"Using my words. This sounds promising" he says, and you see that playful smile on his lips which purse as he waits for the answer. No matter how many times he smiled, you were glad about two things. One, that he was now falling to the Bucky he once was, he was getting his personality back. Two, that his smiles were around you, that you in a way have helped him. Yes, there was still a long way to go because he still hesitates about some things, but it was okay. Every new thing he tried you took it as a huge step.

"So, what if, hypothetically, you…" you trail off, "you stayed the night and we go to the airport." His gaze softens, and you see he is thinking of your words. "Hypothetically, okay? Like, just an idea. That way we just go straight to the airport." You can't help but chew on the inside of your cheek nervously.

"That's- I would- I would like that" he was stammering. "But, um...I don't want to make you feel-"

"If you say uncomfortable after you kissed me not more than five minutes ago I'm gonna kick your ass" you say and he smirks, but he remains somewhat serious. "You can sleep on the couch" you were regretting this. The more you say, the more you felt you were screwing it up. "I mean, if you want, Buck. It was a random suggestion." You wave off and turn around to continue looking for the flights.

"Hey" Bucky calls and you continue on your phone. His hand rests on your back before it reaches your waist and turns you around, you avoid his gaze but he bends down a little to meet it. "I would like nothing more than to stay with you, doll" he starts. "But I- I don't trust myself enough to stay around you while the nightmares are still there. I don't want to hurt you."

"Bucky," your hand rests on his cheek, his stubble poking the inside of your palm, feeling his warmth. "I trust you." He leans against your hand and kisses the inside of it, sending warmth all over your body. His cerulean eyes were looking at you with such affection that was making you weak. "I know the Winter Soldier is gone. It's just a matter of time that the nightmares will stop, when you feel more at ease."

"I know, doll" he nods his head and you smile softly at him. He pulls you closer to him, leaning in and kissing your forehead. Lips lingering there for a moment. "I'll go get my things. Text me which flight you choose" he says as he pulls away, letting go of your body before walking out the door.

You felt like this trip could help him. There was nothing to be worried about. No Zemo. No Karli. No Flag Smashers. He could now be at ease and sort his thoughts out now that he has finished his book. This could be the perfect getaway if things planned out right.

[gooddaykate]

You Ain’t Woman Enough

Frankie Morales x Reader

Word Count: just under 4400

Tags: Pining, Fake Dating because Frankie has an annoying coworker, cursing, my roughly unedited terrible writing, I don’t think there’s anything else?

A/N: Okay, y’all. I wrote a thing. It literally would not have been finished without the constant support of @rzrcrst​. I’m just going to put this here and yeet myself into the void. Let me know what you think. Or not, it’s whatever. Gif credit to @pascalplease​ (let me know if you don’t want your gif used, sweetie)

The bar was crowded and loud, but you still heard Frankie’s quiet curse as he pulled his cap further down over his eyes.

“You good, Frankie?” you asked with a nudge of your shoulder.

He huffed and curled in on himself more. “You remember me telling you about that girl I work with? The one who works the gate?”

How could you not? He had complained about Kelly almost as long as you’d known him. 

When Frankie and his baby girl had moved in next door six months ago, you were fast friends. He had moved to the Rockies to be closer to his parents. He got a job at the small airport to fly the puddle jumper planes for the celebrities that came and went in Aspen. It was easy to fall into a camaraderie with him, talking shit about the people who came to play in the ski town you both worked in. It was just the two of them, and it was easy to offer help. Whenever he needed someone to look after his baby, you were the first to step up. He was quiet and kind, and always willing to lend a hand in return. He’d helped fix leaky faucets and a broken water heater. You hadn’t shoveled your own drive since you’d started watching Rosie for him.

You’d lost track of the number of times the two of you had sat in one of your living rooms just talking after Rosie was down for the night. You quickly learned that you could trust each other with the truth, so you shared everything. You talked through your quiet fears together. He knew about your relationship with your family and how you felt you needed to be close enough that they could visit, but far enough that they wouldn’t. You’d learned about his brothers, Pope and Will and Benny, and his time in Delta Force and the ptsd that it had given him. He had held your hand when you told him about the college boyfriend you’d had, the one you still had an open order of protection against. He had told you about how he used to cope with the ptsd, how he’d lost his pilot’s license, and the divorce that came with. You were angry for him, but mostly Rosie, when he told you that her mom had decided she didn’t want anything to do with her, either, and left her at his friend’s place while he was out of the country. On one particularly quiet night, Frankie told you about another brother and a trip to South America and how nothing had gone like it was supposed to.

The two of you were as close as two friends could be. You didn’t have any secrets between you, apart from one. It was easy to fall for Frankie and Rosie both, and you knew you’d keep that to yourself for as long as you knew them.

Kelly was a constant talking point and source of frustration for Frankie. You had never met her, but to hear him talk about her was enough. She  asked him out every time she saw him and constantly touched his arms and back and shoulders. One time she even took his hat off and ran her fingers through his hair. When you asked him why he’d let her do that, he mumbled something about just letting it be and changed the subject. Most often, he would end his rant about her with a ‘this isn’t fucking Wings.’ You’d usually just smile and move on. But Frankie hadn’t talked about Kelly in a couple weeks.

You raised your eyebrow at him, and he pointed. “Blonde in the red sweater.”

“Oh, holy hell. That’s Kelly? Does she live in the village?”

“No! She lives down in Aspen.”

You watched her as she scanned the bar, presumably looking for an open spot. Sitting in the darkest corner table would hopefully be your saving grace. When she passed over a couple seats at the bar and a few empty tables, something occurred to you.

“You don’t think she came up this way just to find you, do you?”

“Knowing her, I wouldn’t put it past her. Fuck.” Frankie took a large breath in and started talking. “Look, there’s something I didn’t tell you. I was hoping it’d never come up, but here we are. I got her to stop asking me out a couple weeks ago by saying I had been seeing someone for the last six months. And I may have mentioned it was you because I’ve got pictures with you and it was easy. And I know this sucks because we’re friends and all, but if you could just, I don’t know, hold my hand until she leaves? Please?”

You were stunned silent for a moment, and he couldn’t meet your eyes. Before you could respond, Kelly’s eyes found Frankie and she started making her way over.

“Shit, she’s seen you.”

You leaned in and took his hand. “I’ve got you, Frankie,” you whispered as you brushed a chaste kiss across his cheek. “Whatever you need.”

He raised his desperate eyes to yours in a quiet thanks, and you tore yours away from him to watch Kelly walk to your table. She was conventionally beautiful, with long blonde hair falling in waves down her back. Her jeans were so tight they looked uncomfortable and the red sweater she wore was cut low enough that you knew it was never intended as anything heat retaining.

You turned back to find Frankie’s eyes on you, eyebrows pulled low in concern. Without thinking, you raised your free hand to his face and smoothed the crease between his eyebrows before bringing it back down and cupping his cheek.

“It’ll be fine, Frankie. What’re friends for?”

He didn’t get a chance to say anything before Kelly had draped herself over him, making you jump and move your hand away from his face.

“Oh my god, Francisco! I didn’t know you’d be here! What a coinkydink!” She gave him an exaggerated wink and moved her body away from him, but kept her hands around his bicep.

His whole body was tense and his tone was clipped when he responded.“Yeah, well, I told you I was getting drinks with my girlfriend tonight, and that’s why I couldn’t go out with you. This is one of very few options, Kelly.”

“Oh, right. Well who’s got little Rosalina tonight if your neighbor is here with you?”

“We got a sitter,” Frankie all but mumbled.

Her eyes widened. “Wow, it’s the royal we, now?” she asked with an air of mocking incredulity.

She still hadn’t looked at you, or even acknowledged that you were there, apart from her emphasis on knowing that you lived next door to him. You gave his hand a squeeze and spoke up.

“Has been for the last couple of months, actually.”

She finally turned to look at you, a purse on her lips and heavy disdain in her eyes. You flashed her a smile and introduced yourself.

She held her hand out loose and palm down, like she expected you to kiss it. “Kelly.”

You gripped her hand and gave it a firm shake. “Oh, I’m well aware. It’s good to put a face to the many stories I’ve heard.”

Kelly dropped your hand and draped herself across Frankie’s shoulder again, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

“Francisco! You talk about me at home? What does little Rosalina think?”

Frankie was three stages of red and trying to peel her off of himself, but she kept latching on. “Kelly, Rose isn’t even a year, she doesn’t think about you.”

She let him go and pouted, like she was the baby. “But if you talk about me-”

“I don’t talk to my daughter about you.”

You had to cover up your laugh with a startled cough. Kelly’s eyes turned to you as she sat down in the third chair at the table.

“So you’re the girlfriend, then?”

You laughed and squeezed Frankie’s hand. “Yeah, I guess you could call me that. I mean, he certainly does.”

“The prospect of seeing her makes it easy to get up in the morning.” He chuckled. “You know, besides having an infant in the house.”

Kelly hummed and rolled her eyes. “Right. So, Francisco, tell me, why is it just you and little Rosalina?”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Kelly, that’s deeply personal and none of your business.”

Frankie brought you entwined hands up to kiss the back of yours. “That’s okay, cariño. I don’t mind.” He put your hands back on the table and turned to Kelly. “Her mom and I were in the process of getting divorced before Rosie was actually born. We just,” he trailed off and looked at you. You gave him a soft smile and squeezed his hand for him to continue. “We just weren’t right for each other. About a month after she was born, I took a trip to South America, and when I came back a week later, I found out that she decided she’d rather not be a mom, either. She left Rosie and the completed divorce paperwork with my buddy’s wife and took off. I haven’t actually seen or heard from her, since. After that, it was a stupidly easy decision to move back up here. My parents live in the village, so they could help out with their granddaughter and I’d have a support system that was more than a pair of brothers. One of whom beats people up for a living.”

He shrugged. “It was the best decision I could’ve made.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

He smiled. “I moved back to Colorado and found her.” He squeezed your hand again. “I wasn’t looking for it, but I fell in love again. I was lucky. And I couldn’t be more thankful for that.I love her almost as much as I love my daughter.”

Your breath caught in your throat and you had to remind yourself that this was for show. Obviously Frankie didn’t actually love you, he was just telling Kelly that he did. As far as she knew, you’d been dating for six months. Of course you would have said you loved each other.

You figured that it would be easiest to just give the partial truth, so you smiled. This was the easiest part you would ever have to play. “I’m definitely the lucky one. He moved in next door and it was completely impossible not to fall in love with them. I’m still sure that I’m going to wake up and it will all have been some kind of dream.”

Frankie turned to look at you, and the amount of love you could see in his eyes made you suck in a breath. “Te quiero con todo mi corazón.”

You knew you had to swallow down the emotion that brought up, but damn, if that didn’t bring butterflies to your stomach. It was just too much, having Frankie talk about your nonexistent romance. The feeling of his hand in yours, every brush of his leg, all the lovely words he used to describe a love you didn’t share. You just needed to get away for a moment.

“You’re the sweetest. Right. Excuse me for a minute.” You leaned over to kiss his cheek, and met Frankie’s eyes with a sad smile and a silent apology.

Once you pushed your way through the mass of people hovered by the bar, you leaned on the counter and looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror.

“What the hell am I doing? Why did I agree to that?” You hung your head low and let out a heavy sigh.

The door opened and the loud sounds from the bar interrupted your thoughts. When you straightened up to leave, you took one last look in the mirror and noticed Kelly standing behind you with her arms folded across her chest. When you made eye contact, a slow smile spread across her face. The look in her eyes made you shiver before you turned to face her.

She took a step closer. “Let’s just cut to the chase, shall we? I know you’re in love with Francisco.”

A startled laugh bubbled up out of your chest. It took a moment for you to respond because you weren’t sure if she was serious. “Of course I’m in love with Frankie. It would be impossible not to be completely in love with him and Rosie, both.”

Kelly raised one eyebrow and smirked before continuing. “Oh, I know that’s true. But I also know that you and Francisco aren’t actually dating. You’re just his neighbor and occasional babysitter. You can drop the act.”

You blinked in surprise, eyebrows shooting up your forehead. “Excuse me?”

“I know Francisco isn’t seeing you.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not following. How’d you come to that conclusion?”

Her eyes still hadn’t left yours, and it seemed like she wasn’t even blinking. “You know, when Francisco first told me that he was dating you, I was massively jealous.”

You rolled your eyes and let out a huff. “You don’t say.”

She ignored you and kept talking. “But I started watching him. I came up to Snowmass and asked around. I’ve watched the two of you together. I’ve seen you with Rosalina. I know you’re not a couple. I don’t know why Francisco thought he needed to make up some girlfriend and then pawn it off on someone who he clearly has no actual feelings for.”

You were horrified. “You’ve been watching him and Rosie?”

“Oh, I just needed to see who my Francisco was spending his time with. Now that I know that I don’t actually have to worry about him having feelings for you, he can go back to being my Francisco. I can’t believe you’re still carrying a torch for him when he clearly doesn’t care for you.” She backed away and looked down at her fingernails. “I mean, come on, you’ve clearly been in love with him for longer than I’ve been watching.”

Kelly’s face was smug, like she knew she was in your head. But you were focused on the more important part of her little speech.

You started out slow, to make sure she caught that you’d understood her. “So, just to be clear, you’re admitting to actively stalking Francisco Morales and his daughter.”

“What, that’s not-”

“That’s what you’ve just said. You said you started watching him. That you have watched his home, and his daughter, and who they’re spending time with. You’ve asked about him in the town that he lives in. You made a trip out of the way of where you live, just feign accidentally running into him and to corner me. Did you go to his house before you came here?”

“I am not stalking Francisco. That’s not what this is,” she spluttered.

“Oh? Then tell me exactly what this is, Kelly.”

She opened and closed her mouth like a fish, trying to come up with something. After a few moments of letting her flounder, she finally stepped forward and pointed her finger in your face.

“We work together! I’m not stalking Francisco! Even if that was true, you have no proof,” she seethed through clenched teeth.

A scary sort of calm washed over you. You had experience here. You could help Frankie and Rosie both.

“Get your finger out of my face, Kelly.” It took her a couple seconds, but she did drop her hand. If looks could kill, you’d have been dead three times.

“How careful were you to stay hidden when you were spying on Frankie’s home, Kelly?”

“That’s- I don’t-”

“That’s okay, Kelly. I have security cameras around my property. And we can certainly find testimony of the people you talked to. And I’m sure the airport staff would vouch for how uncomfortable you make Frankie on a daily basis. It’s easy enough to request a restraining order. Do you suppose that’s enough proof?”

Kelly’s eyes were wide and the fear you could see brought a slow smile to your face.

“We could probably even issue a protective order, since you have actually admitted to me, one of his child’s caregivers, that you’ve been actively stalking her and her father.”

Her eyes were panicked, and before anything else could be said, she was out the door. You took a deep breath and leaned back against the counter.

“What the fuck.”

A stall opened, and you startled. A young woman stepped out holding her phone. “I recorded that whole conversation. Do you want me to send it to you?”

Your brows furrowed. “I’m sorry?”

“I recorded what she was saying. Do you want me to send it to you?”

“Oh, uh,” you ran a hand down your face. “Yes, please. How much did you get?”

Her smile was sheepish when she handed you her phone. “Well, I hit record when she said she knew you were in love with him. I thought it was going to be a drunk girl confrontation that I could laugh about with my friends. Now I’m just kind of glad I’m a nosy bitch.”

You chuckled as you typed your number in. “No kidding. Thank you for having the insight to record, I guess. I don’t know what will come of it, but if he does decide to pursue something, we may need you to give some sort of statement.”

“All good. I figured. Just keep my number for if you need it.” She placed a hand on your shoulder and sent a comforting smile your way before leaving the bathroom.

You took a shaky breath and headed back to your table.

“What the hell did you say to her? She just took her bag and left, didn’t even say bye.”

You sat down and took his hand in yours. His eyes crinkled as he smiled. “You don’t have to do that anymore, she’s not here.”

“Frankie, what I’m about to say isn’t something nice.”

He interrupted you with a laugh. “I’d be surprised if you did have anything nice to say. She’s a lot.”

With a sigh, you looked down at your hand in his, and brought your free hand up to cover your entwined fingers. “No, Frankie. It’s really not good. Kelly…” you trailed off, unsure whether to sugar coat or just come right out and say it.

“Sweetheart, just talk. It’s me.”

Your eyes met his and you made your decision. “Frankie, Kelly has been stalking you and Rosie.”

The color drained from his face. “No. Kelly’s just a nuisance. She’d never go that far.”

“Frankie, she just cornered me in the bathroom to tell me that she knows we aren’t dating because she’s been watching you. There was another woman in a stall and she recorded it. She’s been watching me with Rosie and asking about you in the village.”

“Oh god, my baby. Would she have hurt my baby?”

His eyes were desperate again, but this time, holding his hand wouldn’t help. “I don’t know, Sweetie. I don’t know. You wait here, and I’ll pay our tab and we can go home so you can hold Rosie. You’ll be able to put your baby to bed and then we can talk about this more, if you want, okay love?”

Frankie’s eyes were glazed over with tears and he looked almost catatonic when you got back to him.

“Come on, sweetheart, let’s get you up so we can start walking home. Just a few minutes longer and you’ll have your baby girl in your arms. It’ll be okay, Frankie. I’ll help you however you need.”

The short walk back to your houses was quiet, your arm around his. Every time you looked at Frankie’s face, you saw the fear in his eyes, and you knew that he was imagining the worst-case scenario when you got home. He was afraid that he was going to walk in and find his daughter missing. A part of you was also afraid you were going to find that.

When you walked into the door to see Taylor sitting on the sofa with Rosie on her lap, you let out a sigh of relief. You could see Frankie visibly relax, his shoulders releasing some of the tension he’d let build up on the walk home.

“Oh, you’re home early. Is everything okay?”

Rosie’s chubby hands were reaching for her father, and he moved to take her into his arms. You sent a subtle shake of your head to her, and she nodded.

“Well, Mr. Morales, she was an absolute delight, as always.”

Frankie only hummed in response, Rosie tucked into the crook of his neck, lightly playing with the curls at his ear.

You gestured over to the door and reached for your wallet. “I don’t know how much he pays you, honey, but this is all the cash I’ve got.”

Taylor looked at you with wide eyes. “I wasn’t even here for an hour, though! You don’t have to do that.”

You put both twenties in her hand and then raised yours in surrender. “Oh, no, shucks, it’s in your possession, now, you can’t give it back.”

She smiled and shook her head. “Okay, then. Thank you.” She turned to where Frankie was standing. “Bye, sweet Rose. Anytime you guys need me, let me know. I just love her to pieces. Have a good rest of your evening, Mr. Morales.”

Frankie just nodded his head at her and went back to loving on his daughter.

“Thanks, hon. Have a good night. Drive safe,” you whispered as she walked out of the house. You locked the door behind her and turned back to Frankie. “You want me to hang out here for a bit?”

“Please. I’m going to put her down here in a couple minutes.”

You sat on the couch and tried to busy yourself on your phone, but your eyes kept drifting back to Frankie. He had Rosie resting on his shoulder just quietly rocking her in his arms. Her eyes were falling shut, but was fighting sleep because she’d startle awake every so often. Once she was out, Frankie looked at you. “Okay, I’m going to put her down. I’ll be right back.”

When he came back out to the living room, he sat down next to you on the sofa. “Okay. You said something about a recording?”

“Yeah, there was a girl in one of the stalls. She thought it was going to be something funny she could share with her friends so she started a voice recording.”

“Let’s hear it, I guess.”

You put your hand on his knee. “Frankie, we don’t have to listen to this right now. We can go over this in the morning, if you want. I don’t want you to lose sleep.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m already not going to sleep well. I’d rather just listen now.”

“Okay, sweetie,” you sighed. You opened the text and pressed play.

The tail end of your nervous laugh sounded and your stomach dropped. You’d forgotten that about what else Kelly had said. You just had to hope that Frankie focused on Kelly like you had.

“‘Of course I’m in love with Frankie. It would be impossible not to be completely in love with him and Rosie, both.’”

As Kelly continued talking in the recording, you just watched Frankie’s face. You usually didn’t have a hard time reading him, he was someone who rarely hid his emotions, but right then he just looked impassive.

“‘I mean, come on, you’ve clearly been in love with him for longer than I’ve been watching.’”

You could feel your face heating up.

Frankie reached over and paused the recording. “Is that true?”

You closed your eyes. “Frankie, I-”

“Dulzura, please. You have to know. How could you not?”

You looked into his eyes, but you still couldn’t make out the emotion in them. “Know what, Frankie?”

“Cariño, everything I said tonight,” he trailed off. He took his hat off and ran his hand through his hair. “Do you even know how much you mean to me?” he whispered.

“Of course. I help out with Rosie. We’re friends.” Just saying that out loud brought a lump to your throat. There were tears in your eyes threatening to spill, so you looked up toward the ceiling.

Frankie reached out and took your face in his hands, tilting it back down to look at him. A tear fell and he brushed it away with his thumb. “Dulzura, you mean so much more to me than just friends. Everything I said tonight was true. I wasn’t looking for love when I moved back here. I wanted a quiet neighborhood where I could raise my daughter near her abuelos. But love found me anyways.”

You could feel your lip quiver. “Really?”

Frankie smiled and brought his forehead to rest on yours. “Te quiero con todo mi corazón, mi amor,” he whispered.

“I love you, too, Frankie. With all of my heart.”

He brought his lips up to place a kiss on your forehead. “You sure you want to do this, cariño? You know all my baggage. You know how tough it will be.”

You let out a watery laugh. “Francisco Morales, you are the easiest man to love. You are kind and selfless. You’re stubborn. You love that baby of yours so, so much. It was so easy to fall for you. I’ve loved you since that first night we sat and talked right here.”

“Funny, that’s the night I knew, too. And the first night I bitched about Kelly.”

You groaned and looked down at your phone. “It can wait, cariño. It can wait.”

You looked back up at him and smirked. “You haven’t even kissed me, yet, Francisco.”

Frankie hummed and brushed a bit of hair away from your face and smiled. “You’re right, I haven’t. You are so beautiful, cariño.”

He leaned in close enough that your noses brushed. “May I?” he whispered.

Your answering ‘please’ was barely audible, but he closed the distance anyway.

Frankie was right. He loved you, so everything else could wait until morning.

[kbsd]

not sure if you’ve answered this before, but what’s your process look like when you make an amv? i’m just curious and in constant awe of ppl who can make videos like you do :)

hello all!!! i have answered this before and i have a vid help tag with other asks i’ve gotten about stuff like this! but i’ve gotten several more messages along these lines so i’m just going to answer a bunch of them together (under a cut since i love to ramble about editing lol). i do just wanna say i’m definitely not the authority on video editing and obv everyone has their own techniques!

edit: i just finished typing all this up and it’s SO long so sorry in advance LMAO god bless anyone who reads this entire thing

so i work in news tv and we have a very specific workflow for writing scripts, sourcing video, producing, and editing. i’ve just applied that to making amvs! for every video i make, i copy the song lyrics into a google doc and adjust them to match the song i’ve cut (i often will trim songs for time and/or content purposes). then i start planning! i’ll mark down what clip i want to use for each lyric next to that line, and any sound bites i want to use (with episode numbers!). i’ll color code between video and sound bites and lyrics, so my scripts end up looking something like this (for my honeybee amv):

doing the planning ahead of time makes everything much easier when it’s a video that spans the whole show or involves a lot of sourcing, like honeybee or sports analogies. that way when i get to the actual editing process, i already know what i’m going to do and have a game plan. for videos like happy ending or believe it or not, where i’m mainly just pulling from a few episodes, i can just plan it in my head as opposed to writing it all down, and produce as i edit. obviously i do make in-the-moment decisions while editing—sometimes a shot doesn’t work the way i thought it would, or i go where the video takes me—but planning ahead definitely helps. i know some people use spreadsheets as well, with columns for lyrics, video clips, and sound bites if applicable. once you find a system that works, it actually goes pretty quickly.

as for sourcing clips themselves/finding clips within episodes, i talked about that here and kind of here. the short version is that transcripts are a must, and the supernatural wiki is hugely helpful by cataloguing all the hugs, prayers, phone calls, etc. in the show. gifmakers that tag episode numbers on their posts are your friends. it gets easier the more video you make—that’s another huge reason i make the google docs for each video (even the ones i plan in my head, i end up going back and making a loose script with episode notes just for reference). if i can’t remember where something is but i know i used it in another video, i can easily reference past scripts!

i also cut all my videos in the same project in premiere pro, so i can flip between them easily. instead of checking a past script, i can just go to the video sequence itself and copy the clip i’m looking for! this was especially helpful when i match cut together the 5x18 and 4x22 wall slam shots for my bestie video, and then stole it from myself for honeybee hahaha. at any given time i have at least 8 sequences open:

because of the sheer volume of videos i make, it’s worth it for me to download the entire show—i have all 327 episodes in HD, plus deleted scenes. if you think you’re only going to make a few videos, i’d start with scene packs. you can usually just google “destiel [or whatever ship/character you’re looking for] scene packs” and there will be any number of ones you can download. if you need other specific scenes, you can always download/torrent individual episodes or screen record netflix (that’s what i did before i got HD download links). i’m happy to share my links if you DM, but be warned it’s a lot of disk space (about 500GB on my hard drive). someone also compiled every destiel scene, downloadable here.

having every episode already loaded in premiere for all my projects also makes it a lot easier to source clips. once i use a clip in a video, i’ll put a marker on the episode file, so that after a while i have most of the important scenes/lines marked to easily find them. to give you an idea, this is my episode file in premiere for 12x10 lily sunder has some regrets (markers at destiel scenes, the car fight, hot girl cas, etc.). markers are the green tabs along the bottom:

premiere also lets you color code and name markers, so ONE DAY i will go back and color code them all. the ones above are all the same color, but in a perfect world, i’d have a myraid—for destiel shots like hugs, touches, looks; for important pieces of dialogue; for action shots; etc. but for now this works ok for me, so that’s a project for another time!

between detailed scripts, one giant premiere project, markers, the wiki, and my own memory, i have so many points of reference that i can usually find any clip i need in about 2 minutes max. sound bites are often harder to start out, or tiny specific shots i haven’t used before, and that’s when i turn to tumblr gifsets or beloved mutuals to crowdsource. but if you’re as obsessive about marking/keeping neat scripts as i am, it gets easier and easier with every video you make. that’s part of why i’m able to cut videos together so quickly. (also i want to stress i do this for a living and have to produce/edit a new piece for my show every day so i’m used to it. and compared to constantly updating content/sources and news that changes every day, 327 highly documented episodes that never change are much easier to handle hahaha)

this is all great for me since i make so many videos and plan to continue doing so, but if you’re only making a few, this level of work isn’t worth it imo. really it’s all about developing a system that works for you. whatever you do with episodes/sourcing, though, i cannot recommend planning things out in a script ahead of time enough. 

everything i just mentioned is producing, though. for the editing process, i usually do it in this order:

music first. any parts i want to cut, i make sure it all sounds smooth

then soundbites. i usually try to weave them into the lyrics—i have characters talk in breaks between lines or instrumental sections as much as possible. i’ll sometimes go so far as looped/extending an intsrumental part to make room for the soundbite i want there lol. if i do have dialogue over a line, i do the sound mixing/levels at this point as well to make sure everything is audible/one doesn’t overpower the other. (also i always include the video that goes with these bites when i drop them in, and decide later if i want to show the character speaking or have other clips cover the dialogue)

once i have all the audio locked in, then i bring in all my other video clips. sometimes i edit completely chronologically, sometimes jumping from section to section—it depends on the song or how i’m feeling

double check sound mixing. i usually listen to my videos through a few times, with headphones and without to make sure it’ll sound good no matter how people watch it

once i have picture and audio lock, i go through and color correct my clips. i’m basic and just use lumetri color in premiere, and usually just play with brightness, saturation, temperature, and tint until i like it

render and export! :)

i always have several audio tracks, but i try to keep my video tracks condensed. i’ll drop clips on a V2 level, and edit a section there, and drop the whole chunk down to V1 so i know it’s finished. that way when i leave and come back i can know where i left off/what’s done/etc. to give you an idea, this is the timeline for my what the hell video:

i always render as H.264 with high bitrate, and make sure to check “render at maximum depth” and “use maximum render quality” for the best quality. i’m sorry, but i don’t know what the equivalent options are in final cut, imovie, kdenlive, etc. i post on youtube mostly so i don’t have to sacrifice quality, but usually just using a lower bitrate will get you under the tumblr file size limit and it’ll still look good.

as for the anon who asked about “polishing”: first of all, thank you!! second of all, it’s in the details. all of this is a matter of taste and my own insanity, but here are some little things i always try to do:

after i color correct, i blur out any credits from the starts of episodes. i use gaussian blur for this, but really any blur tool works

as much as possible, i avoid clips where we see a character’s mouth move but don’t hear the words. in tv/film we call it “lip flap” and i just think it looks messy. also i’m trained to avoid it at all costs at work hahaha. it’s more for serious videos that this matters a lot to me (e.g. i think i did a really good job eliminating lip flap in my happy ending amv)—for comedy videos i don’t sweat it as much

i put audio fades on the start and end of every single audio clip i use, even if i don’t think i need it, to make sure everything sounds smooth

i use markers for timing, especially in action-y videos like what the hell. i’ll put a marker on the clip i’m using at the exact moment a punch lands, and in the song on the beat. if i have the magnet/snap in timeline tool on i can just easily snap them together instead of having to spend time finagling it

this is such a small thing but i dip/cut to black for a tiny bit at the start and end of every video. this way if i post with tumblr video player, there’s black between the loops, and it gives you a beat before the video restarts. i do this even on videos i post on youtube, just because i think it looks nicer/more professional

this is 1,500 words so i’m going to stop myself before i pull something. if you have follow-up questions feel free to ask and i’ll continue to add them to the vid help tag, but any more questions about sourcing clips or my process in general i’ll just link this post going forward. anyone who made it this far, i am sending to a telepathic kiss. thank you for reading and happy editing!

[arvandus]

Touch (Pt 6)

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: 18+ only please!  Drug abuse/withdrawal, adult language/themes, heavy angst, past trauma/abuse, anxiety/panic attacks, PTSD, fluff, pining, slow burn, eventual emotional SMUT. *please pay attention to the chapter tags as these warnings will apply at different times*

Synopsis: When you first joined the LOV to lend your healing quirk, Dabi  terrified you.  Not interested in attachments, he wanted to keep it  that way.  That is, until he needs your help. (Slow burn, soft Dabi).

Special thank you to @salvator-heartbreaker​ who has helped me hash out this chapter and some future plot details; this would not be as amazing as it is without her help!

Chapter warning: Buckle up, y’all.  This chapter is LONG.  Like, 12k words long (separating it into multiple chapters was NOT an option).  Prepare yourself for a roller coaster of feels.  Also, please PLEASE be aware of the warning tags.

Recommended Chapter Songs: Overdose by grandson/The Drug In Me Is Reimagined by Falling in Reverse

Part 1  Part 5

Artwork credit to @hellowon31 on Twitter (https://twitter.com/hellowon31)

Part 6 - The Long Night

After Dabi left, you cleaned up the various items around the room.  You placed the pills back into your bag from where they were in your pocket. A moment later, you decided against that location and put the bottle under your pillow within your pillowcase. You changed your mind again, taking the pill bottle into the bathroom to stuff it with cotton.  It would keep the pills from rattling.  You returned the bottle to its hiding place under your pillow. If Dabi came back looking for more, you wanted to have them within reach and not where he’d immediately look for them. You placed the damp washcloth in your hamper and drank some water before lying in bed with your phone in your hand.

You were only on your phone for a few minutes before you felt sleep start to drag at your eyelids, so you turned off your light and put your phone on your nightstand.  Sleep was elusive, however.  You stared at the ceiling pensively.  Something nagged at your mind, but in your groggy, tired state, you couldn’t figure out what it was.  You felt each minute tick by with painstaking slowness, frequently checking the time on your phone while your thoughts ran a mile a minute.  It mulled over what had transpired, what was said and done, and how you felt… It was like flipping through an entire novel in a matter of seconds and then trying to describe a specific, obscure scene hidden within its pages.

By your fifth minute, you gave up and sat up in your bed.  Your hands went under your pillow, feeling the familiar bottle in your fingers.

Realization hit.  You quickly turned on your lamp. You pulled the bottle out of your pillowcase and spilled the contents out onto your comforter.  You counted the amount and your breath stopped.

No.

You counted again.

FUCK.

You always made it a point to know exactly how many pills you had of anything you carried, but especially so for these pills.

You quickly put the remaining medication back into the bottle, counting them as they fell in with a tap.  Then, you got up out of your bed and hid the pills inside an unused pair of shoes which you then put into a black duffle bag in the top of your closet.  You only hoped Dabi didn’t come looking for them. At this rate, if he was willing to steal from you, then he’d be willing to rifle through your things.

Betrayal, cold and hard, soaked into your bones.  You tried to reason with yourself, to talk yourself through what you knew about addiction, what you had learned in med school.  But taking what was learned in a textbook, with no emotional attachment, and applying it into this situation did little to assuage the feelings roiling within you.  This wasn’t hypothetical.  This was real.

Even worse than the betrayal was the cold hard fact: Dabi could kill himself.  And all because you left him alone for less than a minute. Did he already take them?  How long ago did he leave your room?  Your brain didn’t have time to do the math as you dashed across the hallway to his door.

You didn’t bother to knock – not this time.  Thankfully, Dabi must have been so out of it that he forgot to lock it.  You barreled in like a fiery chariot knocking down Hell’s gate, slamming the door behind you loudly enough to wake the dead.  You didn’t care.  In that moment, nothing else mattered but getting those pills back.

Dabi sat on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands.  He looked up at you groggily when the door slammed.  His movements were noticeably slower, his pallor a sickly grey and shining with sweat.

“You took my pills.” You seethed.  “Give them back.”

“What?” Dabi slurred.

“My pills, Dabi! Three of them are missing!  Give them to me!”

He looked down at his hands as if confused by what they were.  “I don’t have them.” He replied.

“Bull-fucking-shit!” you shot back.  “I swear to God, Dabi, I will search this room until I find them.”

He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands.  “I already took them.  And stop fucking shouting.”

“You what???” You gasped.  “What the fuck, Dabi??  Why would you do that??”

He stood up now, angry at your presence, at your justified rage that he knew he was responsible for but didn’t want to face.  He was barely keeping himself together as it was.  His insides felt like a writhing, fiery snake.  His head felt filled with cotton.  And underneath it all, the pain hummed low like a purring beast.  He couldn’t decide if the pills he took were actually working or not.  The relief he thought they’d give him evaded him like a shadow.

“I told you I needed more.” Dabi replied.

“Dabi, you can O.D. on this!” you shot back.

“I’m not gonna O.D.” Dabi scoffed as he swayed on his feet.  He fought the sickness rolling over him in waves, great crests threatening to drown him like a raging sea.  He didn’t need this right now.  Not with you here.  Fuck. When did he get so fucking weak? 

Your body instantly became poised to catch him if he fell.  He needed to throw up what he took. That was the only option.  Your mind frantically tried to assess if he was weak enough for you to overpower him, to try to put your fingers down his throat to trigger his gag reflex.

“Your drugs are weak as shit compared to what I was taking before.  I can handle it.” He continued. “I know what I’m doing.” His eyes were unfocused as they tried to stare down at you.

Suddenly, the wave crested, higher than he could tread.  Immediately his mouth began to water in sickly preparation, his gag reflex kicking in while his gut clenched.  He stumbled to the bathroom, shoving you aside in the process, just in time to empty the contents of his stomach.  It was clear, made of only the water he drank and the partially dissolved pills that he had stolen.

A wave of relief washed over you while Dabi emptied what remained of the drugs into the toilet.  A part of you was still angry, wanting to give him an ‘I told you so,’ but you held back, instead keeping an eye on him from the bathroom doorway to make sure he was okay.

Once he was done, he leaned back against the bathroom wall, a pained grimace on his face, the metal rings pulling along his cheeks.  His breaths were ragged and heavy.  “Fuck.” He muttered.  He should have eaten the stupid crackers.  What a fucking waste.

Once you were sure he was okay for the moment, you paced back into the bedroom to try to calm your nerves.  He threw up what he took.  That was good.  Of course, that also meant there was no telling how long your meds would stay in his system now, and once they started to wear off, he’d continue to suffer through withdrawal since you couldn’t give him more right away. This was just the beginning for him.

A knock on the door resounded into the room, interrupting your thoughts.

“Don’t answer it.” Dabi rasped from his spot next to the toilet.

You stared at him for a moment and waited while discomfort settled over you like an itchy blanket.  You understood his need for privacy, but you also needed help… at least to have someone bring some water and food. It was going to be a long night and at this rate, Dabi was going to become severely dehydrated

Another knock came through, more persistent this time.

“Dabi,” called Toga’s voice. “Are you okay in there???”

Twice’s muffled voice followed.  “He probably wants to be left alone.  Fuck this guy.”

“I’m not gonna just leave him, Twice.  You heard him in there.” Toga replied in annoyance.

Dabi groaned in frustration, his head in his shaking hands in denial.  Why did it have to be Toga of all people?  She was annoyingly persistent, poking her nose where it didn’t belong and not taking hints when her prying wasn’t welcome.  The last thing he wanted was her and Twice standing outside his door while he hurled into the stinking toilet.  They’d probably barge in without permission.  You seeing him like this was bad enough – but at least he could excuse your involvement as the team’s medic, even if the vulnerability ate away at him. But letting them see him like this?  He’d rather light everything on fire.

“Make them go away.” He whispered hoarsely.

You leapt at the opportunity, rushing to the door.  You opened it to see Twice in his usual gear and Toga in a pink pajama set, her hair pulled back into twin buns.  Her hand was outstretched as if ready to grasp an invisible doorknob.

“Hey guys.” You said through a fake bubbly smile.  “It’s okay, I’m in here with him.”

“What the hell is going on??” Twice demanded.

“We heard a door slam, and yelling, and I’m pretty sure I heard someone throwing up.” Toga said crossing her arms.

They heard yelling – did they hear what you had shouted at Dabi?  About him taking your drugs?  You mentally scolded yourself for being so loud earlier.  There had to be some way you could play it off.

You felt your skin get hot with embarrassment.  “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.  I’m helping him out.”

“What’s wrong?” Toga asked nosily.  “Is Dabi hungover?  He sounds like he’s hungover.”

“Stomach flu.” You improvised.  You hoped they believed it.  If they did, it’d give Dabi a reason to be left alone by the other league members for a few days while you helped him out.

Neither of them showed any doubt with your explanation.  Toga made a disgusted face while Twice sighed. “Well, that’s a fucking relief. But keep the damn noise down!”

You smirked at his dual reactions.  “Sorry, Twice.”

“Do you need anything?” Toga asked.  “Water? Food?”

“Drugs?” Twice chimed in.

You froze like a deer in headlights for a moment before you realized he probably meant the kind that wasn’t illegal.

“Water and food would be appreciated.  Something easy on the stomach, like crackers.  And bananas if we have any left.  I already have the other supplies I need.” You commented.  Then, you remembered - Shit.  Your supply bag was still in your room….

“Sure thing, big sis!” Toga replied through a cheery smile, her fangs prominent.  “Come on, Twice.  You can help me carry stuff.”  Twice followed after her and you closed the door with a breath of relief before the sound of Dabi retching again made you go check on him.

His fingers grasped the toilet seat while his body shook, his knuckles as white as the porcelain they held onto.   Spit dangled from his parted lips, his nose running, his eyes squeezed shut as he fought his body’s reactions to his poor choices.

After a minute, he leaned back and carelessly wiped his face with his bare arm, the fluids glistening on his skin in the light of the bathroom.

His face was pulled into a grimace, eyes squeezed shut against the brightness, his body slumped against the wall.  “You should have taken Twice up on his offer.” He said with a forced grin through wet lips.

“Not funny, Dabi.” You scolded.  “Drugs are the last thing you need.  Besides, you know that’s not what he meant.”

“Well I certainly don’t think water and some fucking bananas are going to fix this.” He replied sourly.

“Better than your solution of taking six of my pills.” You shot back.  “A lot of good that did you, huh?”

He opened his eyes to give you a cold glare, his mouth opening to protest.  But his words were cut short by another round of vomiting, nothing coming up but thin strings of yellow bile from his empty stomach while his gut spasmed and clenched.  You furrowed your brow.  His nausea was getting worse, his vomiting more frequent. You wanted to use your quirk to alleviate his pain, but you couldn’t.  Not for this.  If his body couldn’t register the pain signals his gut was sending to his brain, then there was a chance the vomiting would stop.  Throwing up was what he needed to make sure the stolen pills were out of his system.

Even aside from the vomiting, there was the issue of using your quirk too much, too soon.  You could no longer fall back on your pills to manage your own pain if you pushed yourself too far.  Your lower back itched uncomfortably, as if the very thought woke up the scarred nerves there, old memories threatening to follow in their wake. You pushed them aside forcefully by focusing on the man in front of you.

If you over-exerted yourself too soon, you wouldn’t be able to help him later when things got worse. Once these pills wore off, which you weren’t sure when that would happen, you wouldn’t be able to give him new ones right away.  You were already short three pills after his little stint, and even if you did give him pills, his body might still reject them if it wasn’t ready for them.  That would only make things exponentially worse. It was better to skip a dosage now and get back on track with the remaining medication you had.  You’d pair what you’d allotted for him with your own quirk as an added relief; you only hoped the combination would be adequate until his pills became available for pickup.

Once he was done dry heaving, you handed him a hand towel from the hanging bar next to you. You had no idea if it was clean – he probably used it to dry his hands after washing them - but it didn’t really matter.  It was better than using his arm again.  He took it in silence, his eyes avoiding yours in what you could only describe as shame. Your heart clenched. You knew he didn’t mean for this to happen.  No one ever does.  You wanted to reassure him, to let him know it was all going to be okay, but words escaped you.  How could you even begin to tell him something like that while he’s retching into a toilet in the wee hours of the night? 

Before you could think of something to say, there was a familiar knock on the door.  You forced yourself to step away and answer it. Sure enough, Toga and Twice were there, their arms full of offerings.

“Here you go.” Toga said, her arms filled with six water bottles.  Twice also presented an array of items in his arms – a box of saltine crackers, some canned soup with a pull-top lid, and a couple of bananas.

“Thanks.” You replied, taking the items and placing them on Dabi’s desk.  You were grateful neither of them tried to enter while you unloaded their arms; perhaps they really did believe Dabi had the flu and were too scared of catching it.

“You can go back to bed if you want.  We’ll be fine.” you suggested.

“Let us know if you need anything else!” Toga offered with a toothy grin.  You smiled your gratitude and closed the door as they turned to leave.

Once you heard their footsteps fade down the hall followed by the closing of bedroom doors, you returned to the bathroom with a water bottle in hand.  You knew food wasn’t going to be an option for a while, but at least this might help.  Even if he threw it back up, it was better than bile.  But before you could even hand the bottle to him, he convulsed, hugging the toilet again, gagging and coughing.  You knelt next to him patiently, ready to offer the water in your hand or the towel now forgotten on floor… whatever he needed.

He spit the drool dangling from his mouth and continued to hover over the toilet bowl with a groan. Everything hurt.  His abs, his throat, his sinuses… his head was still muddled from a variety of factors – dehydration, lack of sleep, the drugs. He hated himself, reduced to a useless fucking puddle like the loser he was, and all while you were here watching him.  You, who even though he let you down - even though he stole from you - continued to stay and care for him.  He didn’t want that for you, and he didn’t want the guilt of your presence continuously reminding him of how he failed you while his body fell apart on him.

“Get out of here.” He said gruffly.  “You don’t need to be here for this.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” You replied. You knew he was pushing you away and you understood why, but that didn’t matter to you. Sure, you were mad at what he had done, but you also understood he couldn’t help it.  His obvious shame was apology enough for now, and his well-being was more important to you than his pride.

“Leave.” He growled.

“I can’t.”  You could feel tears start to sting at the corners of your eyes.  You didn’t want to leave him.  Not like this.

More dry retching overtook him, and guilt began to creep on you like a thorny vine, choking your words from your throat.  He couldn’t fight you on this even if he wanted to; was it really fair to stay when he asked you to go?  He made his decision clear – he wanted to be alone.  Where were you supposed to draw the line between forcing your care on him for his safety versus respecting his need for privacy?

You stared at him as you warred within yourself.  He obviously wasn’t going anywhere any time soon, and on the upside, he did throw up some of those pills.  But what about later, when the pills wear off and the hunger returns?  Could you trust that he would come to you, looking for what he knew you had? Or would he go elsewhere, and risk his safety on something potentially worse? You wanted to respect his wishes, but your body wouldn’t move.

Dabi’s world was spinning; round and round he went, as if the toilet had been flushed and he and his rejected pills were being washed away like the trash that he knew he was. He was breathing heavily now, painful groans falling from his lips.  “Get the fuck out, Y/N.” 

The sound of your name on his lips for the first time smacked you, your breath catching painfully behind the lump in your throat.  You struggled to suppress the tears threatening to unleash themselves down your face.  He said your name.  He had never said it before.  You had imagined that the first time he’d say your name would be a sign of trust and intimacy.  This wasn’t that at all.  Instead, it was a weapon, a foul word that stung you like a whip.

He didn’t want you here.  Maybe your presence really was just making it worse for him.  He’d focus more on not wanting you around and fighting your hep than he would actually trying to fight his withdrawal.  You had to leave and hope that he would be able to come out of this on his own.

Without a word, you loosened the cap on the water bottle and set it on the floor next to him as a final offering before getting up off the cold tile to leave.  You left the bathroom, while the sounds of his continued retching filled your ears.  Each cough and gag from his battered throat deepened your guilt, reminding you how your irresponsibility had contributed to him getting into this mess.  Yes, he stole from you.  It still angered you.  But at the same time, you were the one who had all your mental faculties and still left drugs within his reach when he came to you for help.

You placed two water bottles and the crackers on the nightstand for him.  Then, you took the half-full trash bag out of his trash can and made sure it was near his bed, just in case he needed to throw up again later.

With one more glance at him through the bathroom doorway while he sat doubled over the toilet, you made your way to the door. 

Please be safe, please be safe… you silently pleaded.

Just as you put your hand on the doorknob, you heard a thud.

“Dabi?  Are you okay?” you called.

Only silence greeted you. A cold panic set in and you rushed into the bathroom to find Dabi unconscious on the floor, face down in a puddle of water.  The water bottle you had left had tipped over, the cold liquid spreading across the bathroom tile and soaking into Dabi’s clothes.  You pushed your panic aside as you immediately switched into emergency mode.  You knelt by his side and rolled him over onto his back, cupping his face in your hand. His skin felt hot to the touch.

“Dabi??”  You called.  No response.  You checked for a pulse and felt it fluttering beneath your fingers. “DABI??” you shouted as you lightly smacked his cheek.  He didn’t respond.  His color was lifelessly pale, but his chest rose and fell in slow breaths.  He was breathing.  You checked his pupils – dilated.  He definitely still had your drugs in his system.  How much, you weren’t sure.  Once again, you were grateful that he had managed to throw up what he could.

His skin was burning. Was it already hotter than a moment ago? Was it a fever from the withdrawal? Or was it his quirk acting up, going haywire without him being able to consciously be in control of himself? The idea of his cremation randomly unleashing itself in the small bathroom made your throat dry up with dread.

You had to cool him down somehow. Dabi’s bathroom had a walk-in shower just a foot away, and you gave a silent thankful prayer to the universe.  A bathtub would have made this entire fiasco exponentially more difficult.

First, you had to remove his clothes.   They were trapping in his body heat at the moment, compounding his fever.

It wasn’t easy.  Dabi was lean, but he certainly didn’t lack muscle, and what he lacked for in bulk, he made up for in height.  It was awkward in the small space as you pulled his sweatpants off of him, exposing scarred legs with metal staples curving along his thighs.  You left his boxers on.  You couldn’t bring yourself to take them off of him while he was unconscious.  His head lolled to the side while his eyes, now half-lidded, stared with an empty, unconscious gaze.  His shirt was next, wet with sweat, water, and specks of bile. The fresh bandage that you had recently applied fell off as soon as the cotton fabric wasn’t there to hold it in place. The wound was healing, but it was still pink and raw.  The slightest amount of pressure would reopen the sensitive tissue, undoing your hard work.

You needed your med kit.

Once he was undressed, you rolled him to his side.  You didn’t want him to aspirate if he ended up vomiting again.  Then, you ran the shower to let the water warm slightly.  It needed to be lukewarm – cool enough to bring down his fever, but not so cold that it would shock his system and make him shiver.  Shivering helped to increase body temperature, and that was the last thing he needed.

Once the water was running, you took one last look at the man laying unconscious on his side before making a mad dash out of his room and into yours to grab your medical bag by your bed.  There was no time to double check the supplies in it; you only hoped you had what you needed.  You grabbed a couple of clean towels from your own bathroom before running back into his room, thankfully unnoticed in the empty hall.  It took less than a minute.

You bandaged his wound back up quickly, while he was on his side.  It wasn’t the neatest work, but it would do for now.  Already, his body temperature was noticeably higher than when you had left him.  There was no time to check it with your thermometer - it was a race against the clock, now.

You rolled Dabi back onto his back to try and rouse him once again, picking him up slightly so he lay in your lap, while you called his name and cupped his cheek.  His eyes fluttered open slightly, his head shifting at the sound of your voice, before his eyes closed again.  You cursed under your breath and laid him back down the way you had him before while you checked the water temperature.  It was warm enough, or so you hoped, since his own temperature kept rising.  You turned off the water briefly to retrieve the unconscious man.

Finally, you were ready. You tried to grab Dabi from under his armpits, but his skin was almost too hot to touch for an extended period of time.  Definitely quirk related.  You grabbed a spare towel and tried again, this time protecting your hands and arms against his scalding skin.  You wrapped your hands around his chest, your arms under his armpits, and began to drag him to the shower stall.  You tried your best to be mindful of his scars and staples, hoping that dragging him across the floor wouldn’t tear anything.  For a shower that was so close in proximity, it took a painstakingly long time to get him into it and properly positioned before you could step out and turn the shower back on.

Lukewarm water sputtered out of the showerhead, drenching his body from the chest down.  The water steamed upon contact, reacting to the heat rolling off of him like asphalt on a hot summer’s day.  Dabi stirred slightly, roused to consciousness by the sensation and the change in temperature.  He looked around groggily until his blue eyes settled on you.  You waited for him to say something, but no words came as his dazed eyes seemed to lose focus.  The only sign that he was still somewhat conscious was the occasional slow blink while he watched you take a wet washcloth and squeeze it over his head to let the cool water soak his hair and dribble down his face and neck.  The water trickled down his forehead to his brow, and you tenderly wiped it away with the washcloth to keep it from getting into his eyes.  You followed the contours of his face with the cool cloth, along his jawline, across his cheeks.

Dabi closed his eyes for minutes at a time, only opening them briefly as you adjusted the water temperature slightly and again as your ran your fingers through his wet hair, moving the dripping strands from his forehead so you could see his face better. Color slowly began to creep back into his skin, the water no longer steamed.  What you were doing was working, and you were grateful – so grateful – that you hadn’t left him yet.  The rush of time slowed down.  Dabi’s eyes closed again as you quietly hummed to yourself as you cared for him. It helped to calm your nerves and pass the time.

After what felt like ages, you finally checked his temperature, this time with the temporal thermometer you had in your bag.  The number that beeped back at you satisfied you enough to turn the water off.  You gave Dabi’s shoulder a small shake, and his eyes opened to look at you under heavy lids.

“Come on.” You whispered. “I need you to stand up.”

He licked his chapped lips as he braced himself into a standing position with your help and made the two feet distance to sit on his toilet, his wet boxers dribbling puddles of water onto the floor.  You covered him in two towels, one for his head and one for his shoulders, before you stepped out of the bathroom for a moment to get him fresh clothes.

You realized quickly that he’d need to change out of his wet boxers – something you hadn’t considered earlier when you undressed him. You gulped briefly.  Could he even do that on his own right now?  He still was out of it and needed assistance just to stand.

There was no way around it.  You’d have to help him.

You grabbed a pair of fresh boxers, black jersey shorts, and a white tee before returning to the bathroom. He was in the position you left him, the only difference being that he was now leaning against the wall while he sat on the toilet.  His eyes were closed at first but they opened slightly when you nudged him gently.  He still looked completely out of it.

Even so, you talked to him. “Dabi,” you whispered.  “I have to change your boxers so I can put dry clothes on you.  I’m going to help you stand up.”

He gave a slow blink but made no attempt to move or speak.  As you wrapped your arms around his chest to help him up, he didn’t fight you, leaning his weight into you just enough to rise slightly from his sitting position. You weren’t sure how conscious he really was for this.  Was he aware of what was going on, of what you were doing?  Or was his body going through the motions, barely registering his environment?  You hoped it was the latter. 

“I won’t look.” You promised.  You looped your fingers into the wet waistband and pulled it down, before letting him sit back down on the toilet.  With your eyes respectfully averted, you pulled the wet material off the rest of the way down his legs and off his feet.  You quickly dried his legs off before grabbing the clean boxers you had set up on top of his sink, the only dry spot left in the bathroom.  Through the use of touch, you were able to put his feet into them and pull them up just above his bent knees.  His shorts followed until both items were pulled up as high as they would go in his sitting position.

“One more time.” You said. With him braced against you, you grabbed both waistbands and pulled his clothes on.  A moment later, he was sitting back down, properly covered.  You proceeded with your administrations now that the hard part was done. You dried his hair with the towel still on his head, and then dried his torso and arms using the towel on his shoulders.  By the time you were helping him with his tee shirt, he was starting to show some cognizance, pushing his arms out through the holes himself once you got them into position.

Quickly you flushed the toilet he was sitting on, washing away the contents from earlier, and gathered the soiled clothes and towels from the floor before taking them to the laundry hamper in his room.  It was still dark outside, and you wondered what time it was.  3:30am?  4?  You had no way of knowing; you had left your phone in your room.  With the situation no longer critical, your adrenaline finally started to drop.  Exhaustion pulled at you, a heavy blanket threatening to smother you until you surrendered.  You were so tired, that even Dabi’s bed looked inviting at this point.

You forced yourself to keep going. 

You grabbed one of the water bottles from his nightstand, hoping that you could finally get him to drink something now that the vomiting was over and he was starting to gain awareness again.

When you came back to the bathroom, Dabi looked up at you as you entered, his eyes truly seeing you for the first time.

“You’re still here.” He slurred, his voice raspy.

“You noticed, huh?” you gave a small smirk, an attempt to lighten the heavy atmosphere.

He was quiet for a moment and looked down, confusion on his face.  “I told you to leave.”

“Yeah, well I was going to, but then you passed out on the bathroom floor.” You replied.  “I couldn’t just leave you there.”

He didn’t respond. The fight in him was gone for the moment.  He was placid now, almost childlike.  You opened the water bottle and handed it to him, but he turned his head away.

“Please, Dabi…” you begged.

He looked back at the item in your hand and stared at it for a moment before finally taking it and taking a small sip.  He grimaced painfully.

Of course; after all that vomiting he did earlier, his throat probably hurt like hell.

You pointed at his neck. “May I?”  You hoped he understood.

He seemed to.  He lowered the water bottle from his lips to allow you access to his throat, and gently you placed your hand over it, feeling the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed against your cool touch.  Your quirk seeped into him like honey into a cake, coating his throat and washing the burning pain away.

He swallowed again, this time without flinching.  His eyes stared at you, still hazy, but with the hint of something lively in them –a flicker of kindling.  He took your hand from his neck and moved it down to his abdomen.

“Here.” He spoke.

You understood, but you hesitated.  Would you be able to keep your quirk focused on just the nerves of his muscles?  Or would it go deeper than that, impacting the nerves in his gut? That could have its own effects – he won’t feel the burning in his gut, but he also won’t feel hunger for a while, and may not feel that urge to vomit again even if his body needed to later.

“Just a little bit.” You replied.

You felt your quirk trickle into him, like water through cracks in concrete.  Once your quirk felt the resistance of the deeper layers of muscle and tissue, you pulled your hand away.  If you pushed any further, it’d be too much.  He might feel some pain still, but it should be mitigated at least.

“Drink more now. Please.” You ordered.

He obliged, drinking the water in large, thirsty gulps for the first time that evening.  Once he was done, he wiped his mouth and handed the empty water bottle to you.  You set it on his sink next to the faucet, in case it needed to be refilled later on.

“Come on,” you said. You kneeled down and put his arm around your shoulder, helping him stand.  “Let’s get you into bed.”

He didn’t respond; instead, he let you lead him out of the bathroom to the edge of his bed where he fell into it.  You debated on whether or not you could leave him there and finally retreat to your room for much-needed rest, but you decided against it.  The meds that were flowing in his system were going to start wearing off soon.  He will be hungering for more, and you won’t be able to give it to him this time.  If you left him alone here, he’d either somehow end up back in your room hunting for that hidden bottle, or he’d go out on the street to try to score whatever he could, no matter the consequences.

There was no choice. You had to stay.  And when his pain became too much, you’d help out as best you could.  Maybe you could mitigate the symptoms enough to last him until tomorrow evening.  By then, you could start him back up on your pills.

You hoped you could handle it. You’d already used your quirk three times tonight - twice just now, and once earlier when you treated his burn in your room.  Already, the environment seemed a little harsher to you.  Light was brighter, noises louder… It wasn’t too terrible just yet, but all of your senses were heightened more than they were before.  The damaged nerves on your back, always hidden by your shirt, itched irritably. It was still bearable – for now. 

A sense of trepidation filled you.  You’d gone so long without over-exerting your quirk… it had taken only one time to experience it, and you vowed to never let it happen again.  Then again, you never expected to be single-handedly dealing with drug addiction and withdrawal for a man who takes enough opioids to take down an elephant.

You peaked at him in his bed where he lay curled up on his side.  His eyes were closed for the moment, but you weren’t sure if he was asleep or not.  Without disturbing him, you managed to steal a spare pillow from his bed.  Then, with a heavy, resigned sigh, you laid down in front of his door, his pillow your only comfort.  If he tried to leave, he’d have to go through you.  The window was unguarded, but you weren’t too worried – you were three stories up.  The building was an old hotel, so all fire escapes were located at the end of the hall, and he was in no condition to try to climb down the rusty drainpipes.

Despite the hardness of the floor and the coldness of the air, sleep claimed you within seconds, the scent of Dabi enveloping you.

As you slept, Dabi stirred restlessly in his bedsheets, his mind drifting between a vague wakefulness and dreams.

There was humming. Someone was singing.  It soothed him.

He blinked.

You were talking to him, but he couldn’t make out the words.  Something cool and wet passed across his forehead.  Was this real?

He blinked.

Your face peered up at him, filled with a loving concern as your hand cupped his cheek, your thumb stroking across his stitches softly.  Was THIS real?

He blinked.

He stared at himself, his scars gone, his hair a deep red.  His blue eyes echoed his other self like an infinite row of mirrors.

He blinked.

He tried to speak, but pills kept falling from his mouth, choking his words.  He couldn’t breathe.  His other self stood before him, hands cupped and outstretched as the pills filled them and overflowed, scattering over the floor like a child’s marbles.

He blinked.

All he could see was a blue sky, but there were sounds.  The sound of children’s laughter, the sound of a ball being kicked. The was a faint smell of dirt in the air.  He was happy.

He blinked.

A woman sat near a window, bathed in sunlight with a white bundle cradled in her arms.  Something about her was oddly familiar, yet he couldn’t place her.  She sang. “My little Shouto.  My sweet, little Shouto…”  A baby cooed.  Her face turned to him, but her features were hazy, hard to see through the dust that danced in the sunbeams.  She reached out a long, slender hand.  “Come here, Touya.  Meet your little brother.”

He blinked.

He saw the woman again, standing at the end of a lake dock in a white dress, her hair billowing like a white flag of surrender.  The lake was smooth as glass, a white mist ghosting over its glossy waters.  He knew her.

Mother.

He tried to call to her, but his words were silent, falling from voiceless lips like birds with broken wings.  She put one foot out over the water and fell silently, disappearing beneath the murky depths without a splash.  A cold dread filled him.  Frantically, he ran towards the water, but before he could dive in, the water on the lake erupted into orange, writhing flames.  The wood beneath his feet crackled and charred, flames licking at his legs, his arms, his face.  The dock broke and suddenly he was drowning, boiling water filling his lungs.  Unseen hands grasped at his limbs, pulling him down, down, into the darkness, his flesh turning to ash beneath their touch.

Dabi woke with a shout, his eyes wide and filled with a wild fear.  He felt restrained, his legs unable to move.

“Hold him down.” Said a familiar, gruff voice.  The smell of cigarette smoke choked him.  “I told you this would hurt, kid.”

Suddenly, your face came into view, hovering over him with your hands on his shoulders, shaking him. “Dabi.  Dabi!” you called.  You stared down at him with worry, dark circles under your bloodshot, tired eyes.

You were here.

The waking nightmare lifted and suddenly he was gasping for air like a deep-sea diver, heavy breaths filling his lungs as he broke through the surface into consciousness.  “Y/N?” he said, his voice sounding strangely strangled to his ears.  His eyes looked around frantically, taking in his room.  A dark twilight was starting to emerge from the clouded, early morning sky outside, dark blue-grey contrasting with the yellow light seeping from the edges of his closed his bathroom door.   The colors framed your face as you spoke to him

“Hey, it’s okay.” You said soothingly.  “It was just a dream.”

His bedsheets were tangled around his bare legs like a snake.  Dabi kicked them off and sat up in his bed with a wince.  “I need some water.”  An open water bottle appeared in front of him, which he gratefully took and drank.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

Dabi handed the bottle back to you without looking.  “I’m fine.” He said gruffly; more so than he intended.  But he wasn’t fine.  Everything hurt.  His head was pounding.  His damaged nerves were starting to scream while his body felt as if it had been forced into a box that was too small, aching in places he never thought it could ache. Underneath it all, humming low like a wild animal growling a warning, sat an uneasiness - a dark, nervous energy - threatening to envelop him and wrap him up tightly in despair.  Flashes of dreams – or were they memories? – threatened to drag him back down into the darkest parts of himself.

Dabi grappled for control, but he was losing.

You placed a concerned hand over his and he withdrew from your touch, the affection foreign to him. The heavy weight of shame sat deep in his gut as he took in your weary face.   Somewhere, beneath the noisy din of his mind, a thought occurred to him: this was taking its toll on you too. 

“Why are you still here?” he asked as he laid back onto his damp pillow, his arm over his eyes.

“Because you need me.” You replied.

He clenched his jaw. “No, I don’t.”  The words were feeble and weak in his mouth, not an ounce of truth in them.  You both knew it.

“I’m too tired to argue with you.” You stated as you rubbed at the bridge of your nose. 

“Then go to bed.” He replied.

You wanted to growl in frustration, your own exhaustion making your fuse especially short.  If he could just not fight you every step of the way, that’d be great.

“The last time I almost left, you fainted on the bathroom floor in a puddle of water while your body tried to combust itself.  So no, I’m not leaving.”

Your tone allowed no more room for argument, your words forcing Dabi to sulk silently.  He sat up from his reclined position, his long, scarred legs swinging over the side of the bed to plant firmly on the ground.  His leg began to bounce and jitter, an attempt to relieve the irritated, unfocused energy that swirled inside of him like a cyclone. He felt like hell.  He was a desert, his body and mind parched as the drugs in his system began to dry up. Even the slightest bit of movement set his nerves ablaze, pain coursing over his skin like a wildfire.  He was tired… so fucking tired.

You reached across him, your proximity allowing him to smell the shampoo in your hair as your arm and shoulder pressed against him. For the briefest of moments, he felt something akin to peace break through his stormy mind like sunlight.  It was short-lived though.  Your closeness left as quickly as it had come, taking the sunshine with it.

“Hey…” you whispered next to him, a pack of crackers in your hand.  You opened the packaging and handed him one.  “Try to eat something.”

“I’m not hungry.” He replied.

“I don’t care.  You need to eat.” You replied.

He didn’t have the strength to fight you.  Begrudgingly, he took the cracker and nibbled on it.  There was no pleasure in it, his jaw going through the motions like a machine as he chewed and swallowed.

You continued to talk to him, your voice soft, as you handed him another cracker.  “You’re going into withdrawal again.” You stated.

“I know.”

“It might actually feel worse this time.”

“It does.”

Your face blurred as another wave of fiery pain washed over him, making him double over, the cracker crumbling like ashes in his fist.  He gasped and panted against it, his body shaking from the stress.

You placed a gentle hand on his arm. “Let me help you.”  You said. “Let me use my quirk.”

For the briefest of moments, Dabi’s pained expression lifted, and you could see the desperation in his eyes. “It won’t be enough.” He replied.

“Let me try.” You begged.

He stared at you.  It was either this, or drugs.

He nodded.

You took his hand in yours and began to trace your fingers along his staples, your quirk seeping in. He inhaled a sharp breath.  The pain dissipated where your touch landed. It soaked into his aching bones like heavy rainfall on a burning forest.  There was a moment of clarity, the sensation so shocking that it distracted him from his suffering.    Slowly you let your hands follow up the length of his arm, following his scars and leaving a humming numbness in its wake.  Then, you took his other hand to continue the same treatment on the other side.

Dabi stared at his painless hand in vague fascination.  It didn’t seem like it belonged to him.  His vision blurred, memory replacing reality.

His hands were smaller now, the stitches gone.  The skin was bubbled and blistered, and he could hear his own quiet sobs as hot tears rolled down his cheeks.

“Hey, sweetie.” A soft voice called.  Pale, white, delicate hands wrapped around his own damaged ones.

He looked up to see his mother smiling at him.  It was a sad smile, full of love, but never quite reaching her tired eyes.

“It hurts.” He sobbed.

“I know.” She soothed. “It’s okay.”  A cool frost began to ghost over his damaged skin, soothing the burning, throbbing pain.

“Why does my quirk hurt me, mommy?” he heard himself ask.

“It’s my fault, honey.” She whispered, tears stinging her grey eyes.

“It’s not your fault.” Dabi whispered.

Your touch on his collarbone pulled him back to reality on a thin, white thread.

“What was that?” you asked, your fingers pausing in their work.

“What?” he replied, disoriented.

“You said ‘it’s not your fault.’” You replied with a confused look.  “What’s not my fault?”

“Nothing.” He responded as he turned his head away from your prying gaze.

You didn’t pursue it. Dabi was grateful.  Instead, he felt your cool touch return to his collarbone to trace along the muscles of his neck and shoulders.  While your touch helped initially, the cloud of suffering followed close behind from the places you had yet to reach, a parade of aches and throbs blaring their horns against his brain.  His body focused on the noise and continued to shiver and shake while he struggled to keep himself focused.

His face was next, so you cupped his cheek in your hand and gently returned his averted gaze to you. His blue eyes locked with yours, and you stared into them for a moment, captivated by their beauty, aching with their suffering.  He didn’t deserve this.  Any of this. You could only hope that what you were doing was enough, that it could make a difference.

Your fingers rushed and fumbled clumsily across the lower half of his face and beneath his eyes. You couldn’t quite explain why.  Perhaps it felt too personal, even after all you two had been through so far.  You barely touched his lower lip, the sensation of its roughness sending electric tingles up your fingertips.  You desperately wanted to slow down, take your time, and cherish.  But you couldn’t. Such exploration was far too intimate to happen here, now, under such heavy circumstances.  

You paused for a moment in your administrations as sweat started to break across your brow.  The light from the bathroom felt unusually bright to your eyes and you could feel a headache start to form.  A shiver began to take you as your body became increasingly sensitive to the cool temperature of the room, each soft gust of air from the open window feeling like an icy blast.  Even your hearing was more sensitive – you could hear Dabi’s heavy breaths as his body struggled; you could hear the early morning sounds of songbirds beginning to sing as the sky gradually lightened outside.  The rumble of a car passing by on the street sounded like a freight train. All of your nerves were beginning to tingle, and you became increasingly aware of the texture of the clothing on your skin, the feel of Dabi’s staples beneath your hands.  Most of all, the scarred nerves on your back were beginning their own little dance, sending small shoots of tingling pain up your spine.

It was already happening. The feedback from your quirk was starting to cross the threshold into painful overstimulation.  It was happening far sooner than you had hoped. But then again, you’d already used your quirk three times within the past eight hours, and your body was already at its limits in other ways. Even quirks could be impacted by physical fatigue, dehydration, hunger… it was like trying to run a marathon on zero sleep and an empty stomach. 

Dread settled into your empty gut, making a home there out of wild, thorny weeds.  They tangled themselves in your limbs, slowing your movements as your mind began to race. Would you really be able to help him?

Your worried thoughts were interrupted by the sound of multiple ‘dings’ coming from Dabi’s phone that sat neglected on his nightstand, as a series of text messages came through.  Each ding vibrated your inner ear at the loudness. A few minutes later, you heard the sound of bedroom doors opening and closing in the hallway.  Your hands froze over Dabi’s skin as you waited and listened. Muffled voices vibrated on the other side of the thin walls, your sensitive ears picking up every word.

“Why the hell do Kurogiri and Shigaraki have us getting up so goddamn early?” Twice complained.

Spinner’s voice answered. “He said he’ll explain it to us downstairs.  Something about our next mission, I guess.  Something to do with the Yakuza.”

A loud yawn came from Toga. “Couldn’t it have waited?? I still need my beauty sleeeeeep….” She whined.

Magne’s voice soon followed.  “You’re already beautiful, sweetie.”

“You’re the best, Magne…”

Their voices faded as they entered the old elevator at the end of the hall, it’s off-key ding marking the closing of the doors.

A heavy silence followed. You and Dabi were alone now, the entire floor empty.  A confusing combination of relief and anxiety washed over you.  The privacy was good, but then again, there was no one around to help if you really needed it.

You returned your gaze to Dabi who sat in silence while his withdrawal continued to wash over him. If your quirk had helped so far, you couldn’t really tell.  His breaths were still labored and his vision unfocused as his body shook slightly.  He sat there as if waiting.  Waiting for you?  Or was he still falling in his mind, waiting to crash hard across the sharp jagged rocks of his withdrawal before you could catch him?

He had more scars you needed to tend to… on his legs, his back, his left side just below his ribs, and over his hips, the dark tissue disappearing beneath his shorts.  This wasn’t even counting the rest of the pain he felt everywhere else in his body simply from not having any drugs in his system.  You were only able to do damage control on the parts that hurt the most.  What if it wasn’t enough?  It wasn’t a possibility you had considered before.

You swallowed, your mouth and throat dry.  You had to try. 

“Let’s take off your shirt.” You said.  “It’ll make it easier for me to reach your other scars.”

He didn’t respond to you, his gaze unfocused.

Scars… scars….

The word echoed in his mind, and he followed it as it led him down an invisible road to another memory.

“Eww, look at his scars!” a kid said to his friend, his finger pointing. 

The friend wrinkled in disgust.  “Gross!”

“Dabi?” a voice called.  He turned and saw his sister.  His brow furrowed.  Something wasn’t right.  The name didn’t match the movement of her lips…

“Dabi??” your voice cut through, and the memory disappeared.

Dabi looked up at you, confused.  “Hm?”

“Your shirt.  We have to take it off.”

He silently lifted his shirt over his head, while you watched him with worry.  It wasn’t hard for you to figure out what was happening.  He was having long moments of non-responsiveness, getting repeatedly lost in his thoughts.  You didn’t know much about him, but you could hazard a guess that this guy probably did not have a happy backstory. Villains never did. No doubt the lack of drugs in his system was bringing up that backstory for him right now. The concern, however, was that that was something that was completely outside of your scope. Physical pain was one thing. Mental pain was an entirely different beast.  All you could hope for was that your physical treatments could help him enough that he could handle his mental issues by himself.

You took a moment to assess his body and how it was responding to your quirk.  His leg no longer bounced, and the shivering was reduced. He showed no hesitation or pain when he removed his shirt.  It was definitely doing something.

It gave you hope.

You kept going, your hands washing over wherever the scars presented themselves.  Your relief continued to pour into him, but it was impaired now, impacted by your body’s need to limit itself.  It was like holding your hand in increasingly hot water – at some point your body was going to recoil to protect you before you burned yourself.  You were pushing yourself dangerously far, but you didn’t have a choice.  If you stopped now, all of this would be for nothing.

As you struggled to treat every damaged part of him, your heightened senses became worse and worse. And the scar on your back… the one that you always kept covered, the one you never told anyone about because of what it represented… that hurt the most. It burned nearly as fresh as it had when you first got it, a hot searing pain, and panic started to seep into your mind.

You forced yourself to focus on the present, to keep yourself in control.  Your hands were on his legs now.  You counted the staples as your fingers passed over them.

One, two, three, four, five…

This was the reason you needed your meds.  Everything else you could handle on your own.  But the scar… the scar always hurt if you pushed too far, and the memories associated with it were never far behind.  And this was the farthest you had pushed in a long time

Six, seven, eight, nine…

But you couldn’t take your pills.  And you couldn’t cry.  Dabi would see it, and there was no telling how he would respond.  You silently clenched your jaw and hoped that he didn’t notice the sweat across your skin or the way your hands were shaking now.

Finally, your hands reached his feet, and you couldn’t deny your fingers rushed across the staples that marked the end of your journey.  Your touches were done, your quirk spent.  Your body was tensed now, each muscle tightened in an attempt to keep yourself together.

You looked back up at him and watched him intently, hopefully, forcing your eyes to focus on him and only him, as you tried to tune out the rest of the environment that was demanding your attention.  His body no longer shook.  But his eyes were still glazed over and his hands were still wrapped around his core. Was he still in pain?  Or was he holding himself for comfort?

Although the battleground of Dabi’s body was more balanced now with your help, the war within himself was far from over.  His muscles still ached where your hands had yet to reach, and his head still hurt almost to the point of sickness.  But most importantly, while your touch soothed the physical, the mental was left unbarred. The demons of the flesh were replaced by demons of the past, as memory after suppressed memory crashed back into Dabi’s defenseless mind.

“Don’t stop.” He begged in a strained whisper.  “I need more.”

Your eyes widened. You didn’t have any more. You gave everything you could and now you were hanging on by a thread.  

You no longer had the will or strength to hold in your emotions.  Tears slipped down your cheeks, wet roads marking your failure, your failure to subdue his suffering as you had promised.

“I can’t.” you sobbed.

He stared at you foggily, confused by the tears on your cheeks.  Were you crying?

“Are you crying??” demanded a deep, angry voice.

Dabi squeezed his eyes shut against the sound, as memory mingled with reality.  It sounded real.

Dabi knew he was hallucinating from the withdrawal.  Years of dependency had the wires in his brain crisscrossed, and now they were misfiring as it tried to process the trauma he had neglected.  Even so, he couldn’t shake the feeling that his father was here. He sensed his towering, overbearing presence, could feel the heat of the fire rolling off of his broad shoulders.  He wasn’t ‘Dabi’ in that moment. He was ‘Touya,’ small and weak. He couldn’t suppress the fear that followed, crawling up his skin like a thousand ants.  He wanted to run from it, but he couldn’t. 

This was hell. He was in hell.  He couldn’t make the voices stop, couldn’t make the memories disappear.  He was cornered, with no way out. 

Dabi craved surrender, to satisfy the addiction and let it wash over him. He wanted it drown his shame and agony, leaving nothing but that comforting, vengeful rage he was so used to. It was the only thing that worked, the only thing he believed in.  If he could just get the right drugs, enough drugs, then all of this would go away.  It was his only option.  Earlier was just a mistake, his broken mind reasoned.  He wouldn’t have thrown up those pills if he ate something, after all. This time… this time, he’d be okay.  He ate those crackers, didn’t he?

Desperation fueled him, fear and exhaustion consumed him as he locked his eyes on you with intense purpose. “I need those pills. NOW.” 

You shook your head vigorously as your words fell from your trembling lips. “I don’t have them.”  More tears slipped down your cheeks.

“ARE YOU CRYING??”

A child sobbed.

“Get up.  I SAID GET UP.”

Dabi’s blood went cold. He knew this memory.  No, no, no…

Dabi leapt out of his bed, nearly knocking you over in the process. 

His frantic eyes spotted your medical bag against the wall and before you could even get off the bed, he was dumping its contents all over the floor.  Scissors, gauze, over-the-counter pain medicine, and a variety of other items rolled across the hard wood with a clatter.  You winced.  He threw the bag aside when he couldn’t find what he wanted.

“Where did you put it??” Dabi demanded.  His world spun, but he managed to find the wall with his hand and used it to brace himself up.

“I can’t tell you that.” You replied as you stood up.

“So now you’re keeping them from me?” he seethed.

Now that he knew the drugs weren’t in the room, you knew he would try to leave.  You made yourself stand up, stifling a cry with a bite of your tongue as your shirt rubbed against your back, to position yourself between him and the door.  Fear coursed through you.  Even though he was weakened from all that he’d gone through, you knew he could easily overpower you.

You put your hands out towards him cautiously.  “We either deal with this now and be done with it, or we deal with it all over again later when the pills run out.  You’ve already been through so much.  Please, Dabi, don’t give up. You can fight this.”

“You’re pathetic.  Weak, like your mother.”

He covered his ears, a futile attempt at blocking the voices from within.  

He couldn’t.  He couldn’t fight this.  The pain was too much, the exhaustion too heavy, the emotions too raw. He needed the drugs.  His survival depended on it.  Without them, he would go insane.  Hadn’t he suffered enough?  He wanted to scream, to break things, to ignite his cremation and send everything to ash, including himself.  But he didn’t.  Perhaps it was the cowardice of dying, or the dissatisfaction of unfinished business, or even the simple fact that you were here with him.  Instead, he tried to step around you, but you matched him move for move, blocking his exit.  He was trapped.

“Get the fuck outta my way.” Dabi growled.

“No.” you said firmly, even as your body shook in fear and pain. Your eyes were trained on his hands. What if he decided to use his quirk?  He wouldn’t… would he?

His face contorted in rage. Betrayal, his mind seethed. You cared more about protecting your precious stash than you did about him. How could you be so fucking selfish?

“You just want to keep the pills for yourself.” He spat.

His accusation shocked you. “W-what?”

“Admit it.  You’re a fucking addict just like me. THAT’S WHY YOU WON’T LET ME HAVE ANY!”

“I’m not!” you protested.  “Dabi, I’m trying to help you!”

“I’m sorry!” Touya begged.  “Let me try again. I just wanna be like you!  I wanna be a hero, too!”

“You’ll NEVER be like me! You’re a DISGRACE!  A failed experiment!”

“No, no, NO!” Dabi shouted as he squeezed his eyes shut, his fists pounding his head.  He opened his eyes, a wildness in them that terrified you. He grabbed at you then, his long fingers wrapping around your biceps with shocking force as he prepared to physically move you from his path.  You cried out in pain, his touch like knives against your sensitive skin.

“Dabi, stop it, you’re hurting me!” you cried. 

Your frantic words cut through his crazed mind.  He stared at you, bewildered, taking in the terror in your eyes, the tears on your face. He saw his hands gripping you, your arms bent up in front of you defensively in fear. 

In fear of him.

He let you go, stumbling back a step.  He stared at his open palms in horror, his chest heaving.  He’d grabbed you.  Hurt you. It was his worst fear come to life.  He really was like him.

His hands morphed before his eyes, the scars and staples vanishing, and suddenly they were bigger, rougher.  They were his father’s hands.  And as he looked up, he no longer saw you.  Now, he saw his mother, her eyes holding the same fear yours did a moment ago, a fear he’d seen countless times as she tried to defend her children.  Those eyes were now trained on him, and it felt as if his soul was being ripped to shreds.

“I-I’m sorry.” He stuttered. He needed her forgiveness.  Did he even deserve such a thing?  He fell to his knees with a choked sob.  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He repeated.

You stared in shock as you watched him fall apart before you, rambling apologies and broken words falling from his lips.  You whispered that it was alright, but he couldn’t hear you, too far lost in whatever nightmare he was stuck in.  You knelt next to him and placed a gentle hand on his back, rubbing small circles in the space between his shoulders.

He could feel it… his mother’s touch, cool on his back and warm on his soul.  He was falling and no longer knew where he was.  He only knew that this touch between his shoulder blades was an anchor to a place he couldn’t reach, a place he longed for but never believed existed for him.  It was an exoneration, made of mercy and love, sewing together his broken pieces with a golden thread. He wasn’t worthy of it.  He cried.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you bore witness to his agony, this unknown monster that haunted him as he sobbed, completely dismantled and unaware of your presence. There was nothing you could do, no way you could help him through this.  All you could do was be here for him.  You wouldn’t let him go through this alone

You wrapped your arms around his head as you buried your face into his black hair, your own tears running down into his dark strands.  His body responded, lean, strong arms wrapping around your waist as he pressed himself against your stomach and suddenly the two of you were entwined, with him halfway in your lap, gripping you like a child would his mother as his body shook and his tears ran hot into your clothes.

With every inch of you on the brink, your body screamed at his iron-like grip around your waist. Even so, you twined your fingers into his thick hair, bracing the palms of your hands against his sweating skull. With one last surge, you drew what you could of your quirk, scraping the dredges of your ability, and pushed, deep into his brain where the pain still sat like a bullet in a wound that couldn’t heal.  A choked sob escaped your lips as your body was pushed passed its threshold, your world exploding in color, sound, and pain.  Dabi’s own sobs fell silent and his body went limp in your lap, his arms around your waist going slack.  He was unconscious. 

A deafening silence fell across the room, slowly replaced by the sounds of daily life from outside – the bustle of traffic, someone’s radio blaring, people laughing.  It felt out of place in contrast to all that had transpired and clashed harshly with your ears.  The sun was completely up now, the grey haze of morning burned away.  It seeped past the cracks in the curtains, a beam of light streaking across the floor to kiss the face of the man now passed out in your lap. The brightness of the sunlight made you squint against it, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of him.  You watched the tension in his face disappear, furrowed brows and wrinkled forehead smoothing over, his lips parting in a relaxed breath.  It was the first time you’d ever seen him look so peaceful.

You watched as your tears fell on his pale cheek to slip down and catch onto a metal ring. Suddenly, you were doubled over him, sobbing violently into his shoulder.  The rollercoaster of all that had happened crashed over you in unrelenting waves as your body screamed at the entire loudness of the world around you.  As you cried, the broken man beneath you slept. There was no waking him now; his own exhaustion had claimed him once you hit his withdrawal at its source. 

After what felt like ages, your sobbing subsided, and your tears dried up.  Your body and soul were spent.  They screamed for relief, for silence, for sleep.  Slowly, you removed Dabi from your lap before finally staring at him, asleep on the floor.  There was no way you could get him back into his bed, but you’d do what you could to make him comfortable.  Even the slightest bit movement was agony, but you forced yourself forward with painstaking slowness.  You managed to get the pillow you had borrowed under his head and draped his blanket over him before you grabbed a water bottle for yourself and downed its contents.  You followed it up with a banana, although your stomach roiled slightly, the pain in your lower back bringing forth a wave of nausea that you fought with clenched teeth and deep breaths through the nose.

Every movement was stiff and calculated to try to mitigate your own suffering as you gathered the items Dabi had emptied across the floor earlier.  When you finally left his room, it felt like entering another dimension, the hallway oddly quiet and peaceful.

On tired, aching feet you crossed the hallway to your room and entered. As soon as the door closed behind you, you dropped your bag and headed straight for the bathroom.  As you passed your closet, you eyed the duffle bag stashed up high in your closet, your mind longingly thinking of its hidden contents. You did your best to ignore it.  The idea of having to go through it all again because you couldn’t exercise self-control was enough to keep you from giving into temptation.

Instead, you pulled your over the counter pain relief pills from your medicine cabinet and took four of them; they might not work as well as what you were used to, but it was better than nothing.  Your body screamed for sleep, but you knew that sleep would elude you as long as your senses were going haywire and your back burned.

So, you closed your bathroom door to plunge yourself into darkness and turned on your bathtub, adjusting the temperature to an equilibrium that matched with your own body.  You undressed yourself, slowly, grateful to no longer feel the itchiness of the cotton on your skin while the soles of your bare feet complained about the cold hardness of your bathroom floor.  Once the tub was full and the faucet turned off, you entered the water slowly and submerged yourself until only your mouth and nose were above water.

Immediately, a familiar, comfortable silence fell over you as the water entered your ears and muted your hearing, your closed eyes blocked out any remaining light that the bathroom door couldn’t eliminate, and the water caressed your skin in a gentle, numbing embrace.

This was what you needed – sensory deprivation.  Or, at least the best you could do with your current situation.  A heated pool was more ideal of course, but clearly not an option right now. You could feel the edges of the tub press on your skin where you couldn’t quite fit or where the water wasn’t quite deep enough to fully support you with its buoyancy.  But still, it was far better than anything else you had at your disposal.

If it weren’t for the fear of water getting into your nose and lungs, you would have fallen asleep right there in an instant.  Instead, you lingered, your mind filled with memories and thoughts of the gauntlet you had somehow managed to survive.  You wondered if Dabi would remember all of it when he finally woke up, or if some of it would get lost or buried.

Will he be okay after you used your quirk on his mind?  You hadn’t thought about it when you did it – your instinct took over, fueled by desperation and emotional turmoil at seeing him fall apart in front of you against his will.  You’d never used your quirk like that before, and it scared you.

There was nothing you could do but wait.  Wait and see what happened.

You left the bathtub once the water started to get cold and dressed yourself in your softest article of clothing before falling into bed.  Your blackout curtains did their best to block out the daytime, but nothing could be done for the noise, the old windows made of thin glass.  But fatigue pulled heavy, its weight stronger than your quirk’s feedback.  Time lost its meaning as sleep finally found you, pulling you into its gentle arms while visions of Dabi filled your dreams. __________________________________________________________________

Part 7

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Taglist (always open!): @lemonfvck @vs-redemption @inanabsentia @sheedaabee @toshiuwuu @marydragneell @chillinwithmybakubros @genuinelytodorokisbitch @sam-i-am-1025 @redflannel @axerrri​ @necccomancy @miadraws0 @hot-pocket01 @hopelessdisasterr @dummythiccwitch @villainsdeku @aquzairus @officialtrashbusiness​ @hemdem018 @purplesweethart @doebopeepeebbod @ghost-of-todoroki @marvel-philosophy @lysawayne @udontneedtokno @citrussaurus @littleladdty @starsforannie @zunmie @mae-rd @mrsreina @ohh-takuuu @ih8beefnoodles @kellyyween @jojoniles @steale24

[waywardimpalawriter]

Could you do a Bucky/Reader fic for 16 on the smut prompts?

The intimacy of shaving

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Sam Wilson x Reader

Bucky Bingo Square: New haircut square

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Sarah Wilson

Setting: three months after the end of Falcon and the Winter Soldier

Rating: M (Mature), E (explicit), NSFW, +18 only please

Warnings: fluff, angst, bickering, smut, oral female receiving, yearning, pining, unrequited love, smutty dreams, broken bones, mention of torture, Bucky’s old memories,

Word count: 10,800

Summary: Frustrated with being left behind, worry taking hold after finding out just a fraction of how bad your boys are. Making you start to search your feeling's for both men. Especially with the intimacy of giving Bucky a hair cut and shave. Unexpected emotions surface on all parts.

Notes: Sequel too “My own worse enemy," filling in a bingo square for #buckybingo and also an Anon request asking for smut prompt #16 “I’m going to die if you don’t let me cum.” Hope you don't mind me adding Sam into the mix sweetie. Also for my head cannon Sam uses Delacroix LA for his base of operation. Wanting to help take care of his family while taking on the mantle of Captain America. Hope you enjoyed doll.

Tag list’s: Are open

@buckybingo

Forever’s: @jedi-mando @chickensarentcheap

Bucky Barnes list: @learisa @eclipses-and-moondust

Story list: @sammyissassy @feelmyroarrrr

Wearing a path from the kitchen to living room ignoring Sarah’s stare, thumb nail damn near nibbled to the bed with how much your chewing the poor abused finger. Cell phone pressed to your ear, listening to Sams deep baritone, “What’d ya mean three places Samuel? How the f-ing hell did you both managed to get so banged up?”

“Explanations will roll out once we touch down Y/N for now know at least he didn’t break his funny bone that’s still none existence,” glancing towards Bucky stretched out over the metal helo bench. Right arm in a sling snug to his body, thick plaster cast covering from mid bicep to mid palm, fingers still visible.

“I heard that and I do to have a sense of humor just not your brand of stupid jokes bird brain,” deep voice unmistakably Bucky’s catching a wobble in the cadence not there when last they spoke.

Swiping a hand over your face wanting to kill them both for leaving you behind. Plans to do just that forming in your mind while snarking, “Remind me again why exactly you chose to leave me behind?”

Staying home you could’ve possibly worked with, the unknown danced on your nerves more than you’d give credit to. Having grown even closer to both men over the last six months, always brushing those pesky feelings and thoughts away that surface during weak moments of worry or sleep.

“To dangerous and I’m not arguing with you on those semantics it’s bad enough cyborg got the shit beaten out of him,” quickly pulling the phone from his ear at the high pitched sound from down the line. Forgetting a moment your attachment to both men, “You finished?”

Low growl in answer, biting off the curses you wish to fling at both Captain America and the Winter Soldier. “Don’t worry you’re in for it once you get home. ETA?” Checking the watch strapped to your left wrist, “I’ll come pick y’all up, gotta stop in town for supplies anyway.”

“No worries my trucks at base I’ll get Buck and myself home.” Glancing at his watch, “Landing in about two hours, think you can grab a couple of Miss Bridgette’s pecan pies?”

Too many years working with that man not to know what he likes, “For the shit you and Barnes pulled get your own pie man.” Soft chuckles lets you know Sarah heard you. Eyes locking with her’s for a moment seeing the worry in those warm browns matching as you knew in your own. “Just bring you asses home so Sarah and I can roast them.”

Almost feeling the deep groan from over the phone line, “What did you tell her?”

“Nothing since that’s what I got,” shaking head tips to the side picking up on Sam’s easy breathing and the helo’s engines in the back ground. “Just get home dumbass,” affection in your tone. Ending the call, slipping the cell into your front pocket to flop down into the worn out but still comfortable couch.

“They get hurt?” Anxiety tainting her voice from across the room.

Peeking through your fingers at her, dropping them to your thighs to run the length of denim covered skin, “Don’t know really, Sam sounds fine but a concussion or another type of head injury wouldn’t show it’s self right away. From what I did gather they finished up the mission a little over four hours ago, in flight for the last two.”

“What about Bucky?” Meeting your eyes having confided in her years ago about the crush harbored for a certain metal armed ex-assassin turned Cap’s left hand man. Always leaving out the other part of your secret crush. “Speaking of which you ever gonna tell them how you feel?”

“Busting chops about that again Sarah?” Exasperated sigh marches passed barely parted lips, “Something’s broke in three places that’s all Sam ‘Stubborn ass’ Wilson would say. Just not which one of them or what body part exactly.” Firmly ignoring her last question and not picking up on the fact she said them instead of him. To stand hands to hips, leaning back to stretch and possibly pop your spine. “I’m going to town you wanna come or need anything.”

“And you call Sam stubborn,” head shaking with a fond smile tipping her lips upward. Picking up the subtle shift in your demeanor as relief floods your system with knowing they're coming home at least safe. Having guessed your feelings for her older brother not long ago however, keeping that little tidbit to herself. “I’ll come with, give you company and grief along the way. The boy’s won’t come home till later anyway.”

Eyes roll you reach for the car keys on the coffee table, patting your back pocket to check for wallet and the front for cell phone. “Ready to roll?”

Hour and a half later arms loaded with grocery bags, making sure to hide Miss Bridgette’s pie’s from Sam, you and Sarah set to work putting everything away. Setting to work fixing dinner efficiently dancing around each other like a well oiled machine working together in tandem getting each task done. Back door quietly trying to open, Sam poking his head around the well loved oak wood door. Showing a face littered with cuts, a busted bottom lip and dark shadow of a black eye around his left. But his smile still widens flashing pearly whites at seeing the two of you. Entering, Sam places a large locking suit case and round leather carry case not far from the door.

Soft gasp leave’s Sarah’s lips, quickly moving towards her brother to look him over, “You were ugly before now it’s just worse bro.”

Snort existed through his nose, stepping fully into the house with a limp on his right side, accepting the hug she gives him carefully. “You should see the other guy.”

“I’m the other guy,” voice slightly strained but still light almost playful unlike the Bucky of months ago. Though seeing him coming around Sam, arm cradled close in a black cloth sling. Peeks of plaster noticeable making you groan, head shaking at the very sight of him. Assortment of bruises littered his face, his own busted lip, and a three inch cut circling just above his collarbone. Seeing the storm brewing in your eyes, “No we didn’t fight and Sam didn’t cause these wonderful souvenirs.”

“Stupid ass got captured, wouldn’t listen to my plan…”

“You didn’t have a plan Sam not a logistical one…”

“Oh, so you bulldozing in like a raging bull in a China shop worked so well. Who got capture?” Pressing a finger behind his ear to lift the shell listening for Bucky’s answer. “I’m sorry I can’t hear you. You’re gonna say you right Robo soldier cause that’s the correct answer.”

Exasperated with them both, “Shut it and sit down dinner’s ready. I swear the two of you fight worse than Cass and AJ.” Authority ringing through Sarah’s tone cutting eyes at both men.

“Oh sweetheart Cass and AJ have nothing on these two bone heads, more maturity in their little bodies than both of them put together.” Rubbing your temples trying to fend off the building migraine behind your eyes. “Listening to constant bickering I wanna put them in a ‘Get along shirt.'”

Scowl in place while giving them a full once over. Cataloguing the damage you could see and wondering about that which you couldn’t. Noticing the length of Bucky’s hair almost a shaggy just falling a little over his ears and brushing the collar of the black t-shirt he’s wearing. Full beard dusting his cheeks and chin reminding you of those days long gone back in Wakanda. In contrast to Sam’s neatly kept mustache and goatee, close cropped haircut smartly framing his handsome face. Looking much like the day he and Bucky left three months ago on their reconnaissance mission. Knowing better as looks deceive and clothes cover up places eyes can’t see without stripping them naked. The very thought peeking interest but pushing those thoughts back with a frown. Of course it doesn’t stop you from wanting to hug them both mindful of injures unseen that brings a scowl to your features.

“You wouldn’t?” Traces of fear slicing through those deep russet browns. “I thought you loved me Y/N?”

Speaking over Sam, “What’s a ‘Get along’ shirt?”

Caught between wanting to roll her eyes and chuckle, “It’s a big shirt we’d put the two of you in till ya stop bickering like children and actually get along.” Dishing up dinner, Sarah looks towards both men. Trying hard not to burst out laughing at the sour look on Sam’s face nor the still slightly confused one on Bucky’s.

“I see smoke coming from his ears,” snarky quip receiving a back handing smack to his arm.

Bowel’s placed at the table, “Aim for the head next time Sar.” Taking the seat on Sam’s right offering him a cheekily smile, “Might actually knock the few brain cells he has left around and jump start the hamster running the wheel.”

“You both wound me,” clutching his chest dramatically. “With friends and family like this who can you trust.”

“Dramatic’s must come with handling the shield,” cerulean eyes rolling edged with teasing tone. Glancing towards Sam first then you beside him, going to explain for Sarah’s benefit. “Steve could put on some high melodrama back in the day. Much like Samuel here.” Scratching at his chin with vibranium fingers, a low hiss only you catch sounds when the plates catch the little hairs.

Scoffing, “Only Sarah calls me that first off, second look who’s talking Mr. Bionic Staring machine scaring off everyone who comes within two feet. Dramatics run through your veins just as well. ”

“Children,” both women exclaim hands coming down to slam the table at the same. Before time digging into dinner as the back door opens with Cass and AJ storming inside with excited chatter upon seeing both Sam and Bucky.

Each asking about what happened, how’d the mission go and why exactly Bucky’s sporting a sling and cast. All questions peeking the interested of both women with brows raised and narrowed eyes.

“Settle in first and eat dinner,” Sam intones wanting to keep most of what happened from his family. “For the most part the mission went successful.”

Very unladylike snort leaves your nose hidden behind a glass of sweet tea you sip from, “At least you came back in one piece or three in someone’s case.” Eyes narrow even farther on Bucky who has the good graces to look sheepish and divert his eyes.

“But the super serum why didn’t it help like that,” AJ snapped his little fingers for emphasis on the quickness the serum should work or so he thinks.

“Doesn’t quiet work that way AJ,” Bucky starts running a hand through his longer than usual hair. Giving a short frustrated tug before returning to the topic at hand. “Yeah the serum helps speed up the healing process it’s not instantaneous and,” pausing to side eye you not wanting to admit there’s more injures than just his arm.

Scowl returning having a feeling you know why he’s paused in explaining, “Takes longer to heal when multiple injures are involved.”

Dinner finishes with other questions, skirting the full truth about the mission, discussing the coming week with work and school. Sam’s boyish smile appears when Sarah brings out the pie, cutting out slices to pass around with Reddi-whip, coffee for the adults, milk for the kids. Silence settles for a moment the enjoyment of pie more important to savor and only once done do you raise to start cleaning up.

“I’ll,” shooting Sarah a look with a shake of your head.

“You got paperwork to catch up on babe I’ve got this, besides Sam volunteered to help. Didn’t you Sam?” Shooting a look his way, clearly speaking volumes if the answer comes back no.

Brow arched in question but thought better then to ask, though he flips the script on you, “Of course, Bucky volunteer’s.” Quickly moving away from the hand threatening to land a hard punch to his right thigh. Almost toppling to the floor in his hast to move Sam tweaked his hip a twinge of pain slicing through his features.

“Serves you right Wilson,” thought a slice of regret skates across your thoughts. Head shaking you stand gathering plates as the boys excuse themselves to play video games.

“Homework first or I’m taking those games away,” Sarah yells after them looking in your direction for a second. “You got these two?” Pointing at each of them in turn with her own frown dropping her lips downward.

“Sadly yes,” exasperation clearly written in the rigidness of you stance and narrowing to slits of your eyes. “Blissfully unaware or want to know everything?”

“Unaware I’m just happy their back whole,” nodding Sarah takes her leave, heading for the home office.

Times flown, six months in fact since Karli’s death and Sam taking over the mantle of Captain America. Going above and beyond to change how the worlds become and see’s the shield. Using Delacroix as home base to keep himself grounded and around for his family. Surprisingly enough including you and Bucky the house feels a touch over crowded but wouldn’t want things any different.

“Care to explain what that means?” Limping with hands full towards the sink, Sam places his arm load down watching you move around the kitchen. Putting leftovers up, setting to work on the dishes, the familiarity you exude warms a place in Sam’s heart. Always pushing those thoughts from his mind, your his best friend and wouldn’t see him in any other way. Especially with your heart firmly filled with Bucky.

Giving your back to both men and only acknowledging their presence when Bucky comes over with a bowel. “Thanks,” leaves your lips with a nod.

“We’re sorry for leaving you behind Y/N, but Sam and I agreed things were to dangerous neither of us wanted you to get hurt,” trying to reason Bucky leans his back against the counter beside you. Tugging once again at his too long hair that gets slightly tangled in the plates of his fingers.

“You actually agreed on something?” Catching his actions, your head shakes grabbing for the towel to dry soapy hands and help with his dilemma. “Instead you both come back looking like train wreck’s all beaten, broken and bruised. With a busted arm,” finished with untangling his fingers to point at his arm. Whirling around to assess Sam who’s trying not to put weight on his right leg, “Banged up hip and God know what else internally. Neither one of you are spring chickens for heaven’s sake.”

“Don’t know what your talking about Y/N? I’m not a day over twenty-five,” taking an aim to make you smile and ease the tension in your shoulders. Frown appearing when your countenance doesn’t change but deepens, “Talk to the resident Centurion who got his ass captured and tortured for over a week.”

Low growl leaves your lips pursed together in a grim line, “Do either of you think about the consequences of your actions? Of what’ll happen without either of you in this God forsaking world?” Tossing your hands up and turning back to dish washing, something to keep from chocking the life outta the two of them, or spilling your inner most thoughts. Afraid to loose either man the very thought making your heart clinch painfully in your chest, breathing picking up as tears gloss over your eyes. Plates clang loudly, forcefully slamming them into the drying rack making both men wince at your actions.

“Y/N,” coming up behind you large warm hands carefully rest on tense shoulders. Aware of your feelings for a certain cyborg the thought a little bitter to take but Sam resigns himself to the role of best friend. “We’re sorry really,” taking a breath and clearing his throat wanting to make amends and explain. “We thought, planned, things just…”

“Went to shit around us, it’s not like Sam or I wanted to get the crap beating out of us doll it just,” shrugging vibranium hand coming to rest on your shoulder beside Sam’s. “Got complicated.”

Taking a deep breath drawing in the scents of Sam’s citrus and cider wood cologne you couldn’t put your finger on naming, mixing with Bucky’s old world sandalwood base cologne of 4711. Eyes close for a moment blinking back the tears, and to gather thoughts, righting them in an order that makes sense. Trying to keep out the feelings currently jumbling up your brain. “I know,” body sags back against Sam’s strong chest while unconsciously leaning towards Bucky’s hand. “Neither of you will do that shit again. Do I make myself clear?”

“Not if things go dark side like this time, we’re not putting you in harms way,” feeling you stiffen Sam steps back, Bucky’s hand drops back to his side when you whirl on the man behind you. Stance ridge and firm, Sam crosses his arms adding his own glare and not backing down. “My decision is final on the matter and no amount of arguing will change that.”

Understanding Sam’s position, however the thought of staying behind, waiting to find out if… no you push those thoughts aside. “Mine, that’s who makes the choice not either of you,” heat of annoyance flaring to life as you look between the two men. “Knowing what I signed up for, choose to stick around and help put this broken blue marble we call home back together. I won’t sit out the next mission we clear on that?”

Rubbing the back of his neck, barely audible hiss leaves Bucky’s lips at having hair yanked out by the roots. Though his voice is steady when asking, “Why did you stick around? Thought once Walker handed over the shield, the Flag smashers agenda crashed and burned you’d skip out on the next train back to normal.” Not that he minded of course, in fact Bucky rather enjoyed your company, reminded him of those first months out of cryo getting to know each other. Plus his questions distracted you from getting an answer that won’t satisfy.

“I have my reasons,” giving a half hearted shrug you turn back to finishing up the dishes not really wanting to explain. Not fully sure yourself why you’ve stuck around though deep down you know it has to do with both men. “Reasons neither of you need to know.”

Sharing a look with Bucky, “Don’t pull that shit with us sweetheart you demand answers now we ask the same in return.”

Sure they still argued like an old married couple but a begrudging understanding has built between the pair, coming to an almost friendship neither would fully admit to. Both wanting to protect the small family friend’s circle patched together like grandma’s old quilt. Tattered, frayed and a few wholes but well loved and always cared for. Eyes landing back on you to watch the forward slump of your shoulders rounded inward along with your chin dropped to your chest.

“I have the two of you house broken,” idea forming to steer the conversation away. “Don’t need that headache on repeat and I wouldn’t leave the two of you bone heads alone to kill each other or drive poor Sarah crazy,” quicker than either can react you’ve scooped up hand fulls of soap bubbles to smash into both their faces. Deflecting the conversation away from having to answer and lightening the mood. Or so you hoped with the playfully murderous looks both men shoot you. Skirting Sam’s grabby hands heading to put the kitchen table between yourself, Captain America and the Winter Soldier. “Now boys that’s just all in good fun and your both hurt so I suggest you think about your actions before retaliating.”

Wiping the remains of soapy bubbles from his face, thick fingers making wet tracks over denim to dry hands. Sam edges a little closer intent on trying to snag your arm. That ghosts through his fingers, “For now but remember paybacks a bitch sweetheart.” Bright smile tugs his full lips, head shaking though he knows there’s so much more your hiding from both he and Bucky. One day he’ll crack that secret you hold so dear, for now Sam lets you cling tightly.

Watching him go you turn towards Bucky who’s smirk sets you back a moment. “I don’t think I like that look Barnes,” arms crossed mustering a half glare. “Sam’s right you really can see the smoke rising from your head.”

“Hahaha that jokes getting old,” light hearted quip falling from his lips, eyes raking your form as you near the sink. Catching you looking between finishing the dishes and making sure Bucky’s not going to retaliate. “I come in peace promise besides I’m too old for revenge I’ll leave it to you young whipper snappers,” throwing his voice to sound like an old man.

Laughter rings full and deep from your parted lips, soapy hands gripping the sink to keep from toppling over in mirth. His own chuckle exists on a grin, cerulean eyes taking in how carefree you look. Tension and worry melted away with his well played grandpa joke. Making Bucky wish he got to see you like this more often but then he remembered why he never searched. Why he left you alone and only within the last ten or so months managed to reconnect the missing dots in his life. Sure there’s still blood on his hands he tries to scrub clean with each mission, to make those amends and not just avenge. But truly help people in ways that didn’t require lead or blood.

Still wondering, so he gives voice to those thoughts, “Why didn’t you go back to your life doll?” Feeling he’s perpetuated a grave error in asking the question but a part of him wants. No needed the answer to know why you’d give up a happy life for one of danger and uncertainty with him and Sam.

Sobering, his question hitting you like a ton of cement bricks keeping you from turning to face him. Wincing when another hiss echos around inside your head from your right side. “Tell you what Buck you let me cut that hair and beard of yours I’ll answer your questions.”

“I get you don’t… wait… what?” Not sure he’d heard you right. Pain making a return to fog his brain for the moment as throbbing radiates across his broken clavicle to the dislocated shoulder, dancing along the fractured radius and painfully tingling his fingers. Soft curse exists his lips reminding himself to take Sam’s suggestions next time though he wouldn’t let the other man know. “Don’t happen to have any pain meds do ya doll?”

Eyes narrow, “Which parts did they break?” Holding up a hand to stop him from answering while you head towards your room. Grabbing up the small med kit Sharon gave you months back for times like these. Pausing to scoop up the hair scissors and trimer, along with a shaver and cream, both of which belonging to Sam. “Now you were saying?”

Placing everything on the table, unzipping the medium size unassuming black bag pulling out a small bottle to pop the top and wiggle out two pills. Handing those over to Bucky who just stares at them resting in his metal palm.

“Trying to kill me doll?” Teasing tone to the cadence of his words while popping them into his mouth and excepting the glass of water. Downing in one go and handing it back, “Never did like pills reminds me of Steve.”

Resting a gentle hand on his bad shoulder, “If I tried to kill ya Buck you’d see it coming,” snickering at the wide eyed look he gives you. Sobering with understanding filled eyes that stay locked with his, “I’m sorry it”s not my intentions to bring up the past.” Moving to put the glass down, you stay at the sink looking out over the backyard, orange and reds dancing over the rippling surface of the bayou. Sinking sun creating a cornucopia of color heralding the on coming twilight and the end of another day.

“You didn’t Y/N,” coming to stand next to you watching the golden ball of life giving light slowly sink into the horizon. On the tip of his tongue to speak about Steve, the abandonment he felt acutely with the absence of his best friend. Slowly filled by your present, that of Sam’s and his family. “I guess ‘Till the end of the line’ meant just till he could get back to who he really missed.” Anguish heard loudly through soft spoken words not meant for your ears but once uttered there’s no going back.

Out of your peripheral vision you study Bucky for a moment heart breaking for the man who’s lost so much to then fully face him. His own gaze staying straight ahead staring unseen out the window with tan lace curtains framing the coming twilight. Over head light casting shadows in the hallows and angles of his features, bringing out the bruises highlighting the cuts, making your heart ache for this man in ways you’ve tried to push aside. Ways you didn’t want it to feel in case of rejection but couldn’t help the tightening in your chest nor the want to embrace and hold Bucky close.

“Come on,” without thinking your hand slips into his vibranium palm tugging till he follows and only dropping to scoop up trimmer, combs and scissors before heading out the back door.

For a moment Bucky stood there thankful to Shuri for the ability to feel warmth and the weight of your hand in his vibranium limb. The very thoughts your simple gesture conjures damns his heart making it beat triple time. When your head pops back around the door sweet smile crossing those kissable lips. Bucky has to remind himself you’re off limits friends nothing more and to breath. Your beauty stealing the air from his lungs, making it hard to focus on anything except your present.

Catching the out of focus look in his cerulean eyes mind swirling with questions as to what he’s thinking about. “You gonna stand there taking root or get your silly ass out here,” motioning with a jerk of your head over your shoulder smile still firmly in place. Making sure he’s actually moving before existing to place a stool about middle of the back porch. Patting the hardwood barstool then reaching up to tug on the pull string as light floods the area casting a bright glow.

Transfixed for a moment in the doorway with the peek of skin allowed to his eyes. Your heather grey band shirt riding up teasingly tormenting him. Cursing internally, tongue trapped between indenting teeth to keep the sounds at bay. Till the hard slap of your palm against wooden seat draws his attentions and he robotically takes the seat. Stiffening with the fluttering of a barber’s cape hating to have things around his neck. Only to settle once you have it in place and buttoned reminding him your not there to hurt or torture him. Fingers brushing lightly over the exposed skin of his neck, creating goosebumps to dance across his flesh.

“Not too tight?” Gently running nimble fingers through his hair, blunt nails scratching the scalp. Finding it hard to keep from rubbing into your hands and fighting the urge to purr with each pass. You work the larger knots out carefully, pulling a comb from the back pocket of your jeans to run through his hair. “You with me Buck?”

“Hmm?” Simple noise issues from the back of his throat lost in the tingling sensations your fingers bloom across his body. Wanting to chase the feeling bringing peace to his mind much like the soft cadence your voice takes on with the intimacy surrounding the two of you. Sweet chuckle music to his ears and snaps him back to now, noticing you’ve paused your hands waiting for a response, “Sorry no I’m good.”

“Enjoying yourself Barnes?” Teasingly quipped while adjusting the cape to cover his back. Making sure all his hair lays over the edges and carefully combing out the smaller knots your fingers missed. Secretly enjoying the soft chestnut strands as they curl around your fingers. Massaging his scalp hoping to relax his tense posture when a particularly stubborn knot has you accidentally giving a not so gentle tug. Garnering a low moan from the man in front of you. “Sorry Buck,” working the knot out with a little more care taking the sound as one of pain.

Throat clearing, thankful his crotch is currently covered to not give away the secret he’s concealing. Praying to all the heavens you’ve taken the moan as one of pain instead of pleasure that’s surfing through his veins with a simple hair pull. “Yes, and it’s fine,” words pushed passed lips held taunt to keep from letting any sound out. Searching his mind for a topic to settle on, willing his body to stop reacting to the warmth of yours.

Each brush of fingers sends heat flaring to life along his nerves. Knowing the pain killers don’t worked through his system that quickly. Yet, the throbbing ache once present has diluted to a low annoying thump with the heat of your hands on his cotton covered shoulder. Wanting to lean back into your body but holds himself ridge from doing something stupid like enjoying the moment. Therefore clears his throat, “You’ve got me at your mercy doll ready to answer my questions?”

“Should I worry what you’ll ask?” Moving from behind him to head back into the kitchen. Grabbing the empty spray bottle to fill with warm water and head back out.

Eyes close with the first spritz of water, chin dropping to chest as you work to wet his hair. “Why?”

“Why what?” Knowing what he’s asking, your distracted for a moment putting the spray bottle’s trigger through a belt loop incase its needed once your satisfied with the wetness of his hair. “I’ll need more specifics than just why. Why’s the sky blue? Why’s it so damn hot? So many why questions you gotta stop wasting your breath Buck.”

“Cheeky doll very cheeky you know damn well what I mean,” keeping his head still to prevent you from severing an ear.

Smirking, setting to work on trimming up the top back portion of his head, trying to keep from childishly making faces. “Sure don’t Sarge.”

Groan slipping passed before he’s able to trap and swallow the sound at the off handed use of his military rank. Wondering which deity had it out for his ass today. Cursing the fact he’s let you so close to breath in the flowery scent of your body. Gentle use of those skilled fingers through his hair not making things any better for the growing problem tenting his jeans. Returning to himself when you move to his left shortening the hair over his ear. “Why’d you stay with us? I thought,” remembering those painful words back in Madripoor. “I thought you had a happy life to go back to.”

“Ear hustling Barnes?” Switching sides and glancing down with a raised brow you know he doesn’t see.

Looking up to try and catch your eye your focus on cutting his hair makes the attempt impossible. So he settles on, “Don’t know what you mean doll. Just asking a question,” trying to hold the shiver at bay when your fingers brush over the shell of his ear.

“Since your asking it means you didn’t hear everything Sam and I talked about,” thankful that’s the case or things would get a whole lot complicated. “I lied.”

Head whipping to the side so quickly you fear he’s damaged his neck with the wince taking over his handsome features. “Lied why?”

“Reasons,” ‘Ones I won’t tell you James,’ speaking the last words in your mind, careful probing fingers check for anything popped out. Garnering a hiss of pain when you’ve found the break in his clavicle. “What did you break besides the hamster running your wheel brain?”

Bitting off the curse as pain flared over his right side. Gritting out, “Clavicle, dislocated shoulder, fractured radius, you can see the cuts and bruises so take it a little easy on this old man.”

“How… Why did you get captured?” Worry fights fear both dance with anger marching through your veins as a Thanksgiving Day parade band would down the streets of New York City. The very thought of both your men hurt and so far away from home torn a hole in your heart. Thoughts you try to push away and focus on the job of cutting Bucky’s hair.

Finishing up what you could on the back of his head, Bucky feels you come around to the front. Knees spread to accommodate your body, closing his eyes to keep from staring at your breasts. Licking suddenly dry lips with having you extra close, he tries to gather an answer to your question. “We needed an in so I made a decision.”

“One I’m sure Sam disagreed on,” carding your fingers through the top, snipping pieces checking length. Jealous over how soft his hair feels between your digits. Woodsy pine scent reaching your nose that twitches in pleasure at the fragrance matching what you always thought he’d smell like.

“Yeah well we ran out of time doll. Couldn’t let what remains of LAF get away,” eyes quickly open only to slam shut again with having you still too near for his own good.

Every brush of your fingers, thighs brushing against his with every move, your flowery scent wrapping around his heart to squeeze tight. Breath punched from his lungs when your knee makes slight contact with his erection. Shooting pleasurable fireworks off behind his closed lids. Wishing for your hands on his body, wondering what they’d feel like over bare skin. If you’d shy away from the scars littering his flesh or… he wouldn’t, didn’t need to think about the alternative.

Unsure why he gasped you move from between his legs and look upon his face confused as to his ridge posture eyes held tightly closed. Insecurities rushing through your mind, setting up shop to remind you no man let alone someone as handsome as Bucky would ever want to look at you. Shoving back those thoughts to ask, “You okay Bucky?”

“Fucking fabulous doll,” bitting out the words while trying to reign in the need to grab hold of your hips, bringing you back against him. Wanting to find out if you’d fit as good or better than what he’s imagined during those dream filled nights he doesn’t talk about with anyone. “Finished?” Praying you’ll say yes, the temptation becoming almost unbearable.

Unconvinced by his words but pushes that aside and stepping farther back to round him, grabbing up the trimmer on the way with a numbered comb. “Almost but then I still have your beard to do.”

“Fuck,” low gravely voice intones the single word hoping you’ve not heard and cursing the heaven for this test of his will and desires. In another life Bucky wouldn’t have hesitated to ask you out, wine and dine with dancing till midnight. Taking you home with a simple kiss of promise with more to come. But he’s different now and you don’t deserve to have a broken man on your hands.

Swallowing harshly to cover your growing need to escape and bury yourself in another program or book to distract from those awful thoughts running around in your mind. Replaying all the brush offs and look aways as rejection shattering your heart. Pushing you to finish his new hair cut that much quicker. “Done, now how short you want your beard?”

“Gone,” knowing exactly what he’s saying and damning himself to the torture of a different kind.

Coming back in front of him, you slip between his parted knees so easily a thought you try to push away while switching the trimmer combs and flicking the on button. Carefully cupping his left cheek while shortening the right for a closer shave once your done. “Surely you didn’t just let them capture you.” Returning to a safer subject other than how good his bearded jaw felt in your warm palm. Wondering how it’d feel in other places.

“Offered myself up for a little bloody torture and a few broken bones. I’m here to tell the tale instead of those guys Y/N. They're off the streets and we have the information needed to finish taking down LAF.” Teeth gritting to keep from rubbing his jaw into your palm, from turning to kiss the center and devour you with his mouth.

Pausing a moment, “But you could’ve gotten killed James.” Sorrow coloring the cadence of your tone, eyes filled with fear at what could’ve happened. “You should’ve called me, I could’ve helped.”

Heart stopping, never had you spoken his first name, always Bucky or Buck, Barnes when your angry but never James. Opening his darken cerulean orbs breath trapped somewhere between lungs and mouth at the sorrow written deep in those eyes he never could not stare into. Heart hammering back to life with the subtle brushing of your fingers over his cheek, “Would it have matter?”

Confusion tips your head to the side, “What you dying or me helping?”

“Dying,” single word dropped like a bomb destroying everything in the path.

“James,” softly spoken with so much emotion held within the countenance of your features. Watching the ghosts float through those beautiful cerulean eyes, memories of a time he couldn’t control, of deeds done to people who didn’t deserve the pain and death he dealt out as the Fist of Hydra. Tears gloss over your eyes once again trying to blink them away to keep them from clogging your emotions filled throat. “It matter’s Barnes, matters to a lot of people you’re just too stubborn to realize that.” Shaking your head to clear the fog and get back to work.

Speechless Bucky just sits there letting you finish up trimmer the hair away as if trying to erase the past months, the torture he let happen with no regard to his personal well being. During this time your words chase around his mind, combined with Sam’s out right demand of him to never put himself in harms way like that again. Adding more questions added than any true answers. Delicate fingers brush over trimmed facial hair bringing him back to the present right as you move to take the barber’s cape from around his neck. Missing the warmth of your touch, heat radiating from your body, your scent filling his nose and making him drunk on you.

Folding the cape to drape over your arm, “I’ll shave you as well come back inside.” Voice slightly rough with unshed tears avoiding looking directly at Bucky and missing the longing written in the ocean pools. Mistaking his lack of response for rejection of your words and feelings. You enter the house placing the small hand load down and moving a chair over towards the sink. Returning to grab up the shaving cream and razor, pulling a fresh wash cloth from the draw by the sink too wet it hot.

“You don’t have to,” entering and closing the back door with the heel of his boot. Bucky leans against the counter watching you with a closed expression. Pain dull but still worming its way through his veins along with so many thoughts.

Glancing his way, “I know,” motioning with a wave of your hand, “but if I don’t that beard’ll come back in short order and we’ll have to do this all over again.” Going for playful to ease the tension built from the lingering words of out on the porch, “Bring your ass over here Buck.”

Your change in mood has a confused frown pulling his mouth down but complies with the order. Taking up the seat with spread legs and turned up face watching you wring out the wash cloth. Using your elbow and tipping his head back to gently place the hot cloth around what’s left of his beard to soften the hair and wake up the pores. Catching the small muffled groan, “To hot?”

“No, perfect,” faintly hearing the two simple words you grab up the shaving cream to put a generous amount in your palm before pulling the quickly cooling cloth from his face. Tossing it towards the sink and applying a layer of cream to his skin. Left overs rinsed from your hands quickly before drying and grasping the razor with steady hands. “Just a little off the top if you please,” boyish smirk slips over his lips tipping cream covered cheeks up while trying to be funny.

Eyes rolling, “To late for that one top’s already taken care of.” Using the pad of your thumb to push the skin of his cheek taunt. Carefully dragging the razor over his flesh intending to keep your gaze directed towards working the blade over his check. However, you’re unable to do so while cleaning the razor as your eyes dart up catching the fact Bucky’s gaze firmly rests on your face. Heat blooming across your body, eyes drop back to his cheek intent on getting finished quickly to avoid any farther embarrassment.

Meanwhile Bucky maps every feature of your face, the slant of your nose, set of your eyes, cupids bow of your top lip. Visions of drawing the plump flesh in for a bite and pull before letting go with a wet pop, filter through his mind. Finding himself in a rather precarious predicament, thighs spread to accommodate your body, his palms itch to grasp and tug you into his lap. Bitting back a moan each touch brings, the gentleness tearing a new hole in armored covered heart. Wanting to keep you out but finding it harder to do every time you show the kindness his life lacked for decades.

Minds eye drawing the curves of your cheeks, lips twitching to caress, fingers tapping trapped in plaster and cloth against his body. Wanting to brush his knuckles over your throat to gently grasp the back of your neck and bring your lips against his for a slow sweet drink of the tempting cavern of your warm mouth. Only snapping back to reality with the soft brush of your fingers along his jawline.

Searching for any hairs left behind, soothingly palming his cheeks with cool hands desperate to taste his skin. Drag your lips over the same spots the razor just graced. Teasing the tip of your tongue along the hard edge of his jaw to place a kiss just below his ear. Tempted to even suck a mark for everyone to see. You swallow harshly removing your hands from his cheeks to rinse and warm up the cloth to clean off any residual shaving cream from his face.

“Finished,” clearing your emotions clogged throat, stepping towards the sink, your profile the only side Bucky sees as you work to clean up the mess.

Feeling rather than hearing him stand heat radiating of his body just a few inches shy of brushing against yours. “Thank you doll,” impulsively leaning forward to brush his lips over your cheek. Lingering longer than he should but unable too stop himself from pressing soft slight chapped lips to the corner of your mouth. “Next time I need shavin’ I know who to come too,” breathing the words before pulling away, taking his leaving quickly to keep from doing something even stupider. Like wrap you up into his arms and actually kissing those pillow soft lips. Backdoor swinging closed a little harder than he meant in his bid to get away from your warmth and tempting body.

Frozen in place, skin tingling from just that slight press while your heart beats almost out of your chest. Pounding against your rib cage so hard fear it’ll crack a rib any second now. White knuckles grip the sinks edge, heat flaring across your body to pool low and throb through your lady parts. Thighs unconsciously rub together needing friction to alleviate the ache growing between your legs.

“Did you cut him or take a hunk of hair out and now he looks like Frankenstein monster?” Teasing tone to his quip, Sam enters the kitchen still staring at the back door. Having watched the exchange from the darkened hallway. Reverting his eyes to your back, taking in the ridge posture of your spine with a slight very subtle shake. “Y/N what’s wrong?” Swiftly coming up behind you, hands gripping your shoulders to turn you around. “Did Bucky say or do something wrong?” Worry creasing his brow the want to hold you close growing with each second your not in his arms.

Looking up into the kind russet eyes flashing with concern and worry, “No,” head shaking, “no he didn’t Sam just…” unable to stop yourself from burying your body against Sam’s firm chest. Trying to figure out how to explain what’s running around in your head. The indecision, thoughts you know shouldn’t roll through your mind doing just that as your arms wind around his trim waist.

“Just what sweetheart?” Wanting to help smooth things over between his two best friends even if it meant swallowing his own feelings.

Keeping your eyes closed, breathing in his cedar wood and citrus scent, burying your nose against his collarbone. Always able to calm the raging storm of emotions boiling through your veins. Confusion setting in with those same tingles you feel when Bucky touches you now dances across your body at the warmth of Sam’s arms cradling you close. Reminding you of earlier when his chest pressed to your back strong hands gently placed on your shoulders. The shiver you suppressed at the touch of both men. At the memory your eyes pop open and you quickly push away from Sam as if he’s burnt you. Needing to escape and figure out what’s going on.

“Nothing, it doesn’t matter, I’m sorry,” feet quickly taking you from the kitchen into the safe arms of your bedroom.

Missing the confused look marring Sam’s face that turns into hurt at the way you’ve shoved him aside. Body sagging against the counter, hand rubbing at the back of his neck searching for what’s changed in such a short period of time.

“Men, blind and just plain foolish,” landing a hard hit to his shoulder, which he rubs to alleviate the pain. Sarah comes up beside her older brother with a raised brow. “Still don’t get it? Searching for exactly why she reacted so strongly? Think Samuel use that big brain you have and actually put it to good use.”

Frown creasing between his eyes and drawing his lips down, “Left behind sucks Sarah that’s all it amounts to. But we… I couldn’t have her along, wouldn’t risk her life like that.”

“Has nothing to do with leaving her home Sam,” giving him a meaningful look that still bewilders him. “Why didn’t you want her along but you took Bucky with you?”

“He’s a super soldier Sar he can take the hits not that I want him hurt either. Shit when he let himself get captured,” moving towards the abandoned chair to plop down heavily. “He scared the living shit outta me, I thought…” hard to swallow the memories of watching those men pulling an unconscious Bucky into a van. Driving off before he could plant a tracker and barely able to get up with bruised ribs making breathing painful. Sam runs a hand over the short hair unsure when things got so complicated between the three of them.

Pulling up a chair in front of Sam, “You’d lost him?” Seeing the nod Sarah’s features softened knowing from the tell’s she picked up watching the three of them for so long. “You love them?”

“What?” Head whipping up so quickly making Sam wince. “Of course I do but not like that I mean their family, you know I’ll do anything to protect my family.”

Hand resting on his shoulder, “You keep telling yourself that big bro maybe one day you’ll actually believe it and able to push those feelings away good enough to keep them at arms length.” Looking up at her, “Just a word of advice,” seeing him nod, “don’t push those emotions away, you deserve that love they both would readily give you.”

*****************************

Softly closing the door behind you heading towards the ensuite bathroom for a nice cold shower, preforming your nightly routine, and shutting off every light except the one beside your bed. Falling into the soft mattress with your current book keeping you company for the rest of the night. Eyes start to droop, words blur and you read the same sentence half a dozen times. Book falling against your chest as a yawn takes over your features.

Body stretching out against cool sheets jumping when a soft knock echos around your room, eyes darting towards the clock to see its just a little passed mid night. Slowly getting out of bed, pulling the extra long dark blue with little pink flowers dotting the sleep shirt down to cover your ass and thighs. Thinking its Sarah checking on you, eyes shocked wide with the small crack you open the door to spy Bucky standing there fidgeting.

“Everything all right Buck?” Opening the door wider to lean against the casing arms crossed just under your breasts.

Swallowing, glancing from your eyes to lips repeatedly. Trying to form the words he wants to speak when the decision makes itself clear and Bucky surges forward. Gently wrapping vibranium fingers around the back of your neck and bragging you against his strong chest. Slanting his lips against yours, nipping your bottom lip to make you gasp and slipping his eager tongue passed into the warm depths of your mouth. Leading the kiss and praying he’s not wrong.

Rewarded by your arms winding around his neck careful of his injures. Fingers tugging at the now shorten strands thanks to your expect hands. Garnering a low moan from the depths of his chest, one that rambles with a pleased hum as you return the kiss. Tangling your tongues together making nothing soft nor gentle about this melding of mouths. Only breaking apart for both of you to gasp for air.

“No, nothing’s all right doll. I can’t stop thinking about you,” resting your foreheads together sharing common air. Fingers at the base of your skull massaging the tension with surprisingly easy pressure. “I’d done fighting, done pushing you away, I need you Y/N.”

“James?” Lips tingling from a kiss you’ve only dreamt about as confusion marring your tone, eyes blinking a few times to make sure you’ve pushed the sleepy haze from your mind.

Soft groan issues at hearing you whisper just first name, hand slipping down to wrap around your waist and pull your taut to his body. “If…” trying to push the next words past his lips, “if you don’t want…”

“Us, we need to know now sweetheart. We won’t push you into anything you don’t want,” Sam’s voice full of desire and longing cuts across Bucky’s for a moment.

Making you look up from eyes locked with Bucky to stare at Sam trying to process his words, the look in those beautiful russet eyes you can’t pull yours away from. Till Bucky presses a kiss to just below your ear, “We know it’s a lot to take in doll and you can say no…”

“I,” gulping like a fish out of water, heat thumping through your veins at the unspoken promise both sets of eyes show. “I don’t know what to say.”

Stepping forward to push you back a step so Sam can fully enter your bedroom and close the door. He comes behind you sandwiching your body between two walls of muscle and masculine warmth. Pressing a kiss to the opposite cheek, lips brushing over the shell of your ear, “There’s no going back sweetheart you’re ours if you say yes. But if the answer is no I’m not going to lie things will change. Awkward as hell yes especially at first but I,” Bucky clears his throat to which Sam nods, “we would work through that with you. Loosing your friendship can’t happen no matter what.”

Removing yourself from between their warm bodies to collapse at the end of the bed, head in your hands. Mind so confused, a jumbled mix of desire and lust touched with a heavy dose of love that scares the living shit outta you. Feeling the bed dip on either side, removing your hands to glance at both men. Seeing the reassurance in those cerulean and russet orbs you swallow to wet your parched throat. Gaining strength to finally speak, “I don’t want to loose either of you,” looking between both men. Taking each hand within your own, “But this last mission taught me I don’t want to deny my feelings any longer.”

“What feelings doll?” Giving your hand an encouraging squeeze.

Looking into Bucky’s cerulean eyes, “I’m in love with both of you.” Switching to Sam’s russet orbs seeing the blatant want shining only boosts your confidence to lean over. Cupping his jaw and bringing your lips against his. Different from the kiss you shared with Bucky. Who’s bottom lip begs for a nibbling, Sam’s fuller lips press against your own in tender caresses.

Gentler too, a soft slant of his mouth against yours, pressing twice at different angles before tracing over your bottom lip. Gaining entrance on a sigh of need to check in with your tongue before tangling together. Heated palm cupping your cheek, thumb brushing over the apple twice while he artfully pillages your mouth. Drawing out a low moan squeak following when a set of lips slide over the side of your neck nibbling a short path to suck a mark behind your ear. Making you weak and boneless against Sam, who releases your cheek and hand to grip your hips, having you straddle his thighs.

Kiss breaking for air, “I’m to heavy Sam, your hip.”

“You’re prefect baby girl no arguing understand?” Cupping your ass in both hands to roll your hips against the hard bulge of his erection. Teeth gritting at how good you feel in his arms, the damp heat of your core only serving to make him grow harder with each brush against your cloth covered pussy. Sam reclaims your mouth, this kiss much different. Desperate and demanding taking no prisoners this time as he immediately slips his tongue back into your mouth. Pulling a groan from deep within your chest, arms going around his neck to help move your body against his. The delicious friction sending jolts of pleasure radiating out over your body, clit throbbing with a need you’ve never felt before.

Hissing at the cool sensations of Bucky’s vibranium fingers drawing circles across your back. Pushing your sleep shirt off your body arms raising, breaking the kiss to accomplish the task. Looking over your shoulder at the bare chested Barnes, mouth salivating at the sight eager to touch and kiss every inch. Brought back to Sam with the heat of his mouth connecting to your pulse, adding his own mark to your body while his callused fingers dances across your back.

Cursing his rotten luck for not having use of one hand, Bucky steps forward lowering to his knees carefully. Brushing his lips along your spine while cool alloyed fingers sweep around your body between you and Sam to trace a line between your breasts. Head dropping back to Bucky’s shoulder and baring your breasts to Sam’s hungry glaze and Bucky’s questing fingers.

“So beautiful,” words whispered reverently from Sam’s lips against the damp column of your throat. Mouth tasting each inch of your skin he can reach. Till moist heat circles your nipple, wet tip of his tongue coming out to flick the tightly budded peak before sucking harshly. In contrast to the cool patterns Bucky draws, taking the time to tug before pinching just hard enough that your back arches into Sam’s mouth.

Pushing into Bucky at your back a whimper parting your gasping lips. Needing more of both men surrounding you, slick coating your trembling thighs as you clinch around nothing. Dragging a whine of desperation from you soul,“Please,” single word escaping your mouth.

“What doll? What do you want?” Drawing his lips up to your ear, nipping the lobe bringing it between his teeth giving a sharp bite at the same time Sam flicks his tongue over your nipple.

Letting go with a wet pop, smiling at the whine exiting your heaving chest, “I think out girl needs more Buck. Any thoughts on how to please her?” Brow wiggling over your shoulder at Bucky who just smirks.

Fingers sliding down then under the band of your panties to find you soaked and pulsing. Cool metal meeting heated flesh makes you jolt in Sam’s arms. Grinding down into those wonderful fingers and against the thick ridge of Sam’s cock.

“Don’t stop please,” gasping head lolling back, your eyes close as sensations crash through your veins. Tight coil starting to form with just the brush of his fingers.

Maneuvering closer to slip two fingers into your clinching channel. Deep groan vibrating through his chest and into your back, “Fuck Sam she’s tight and so wet for us. I bet she tastes just as good as she feels.” Rocking your hips, fucking his fingers desperate for that high traveling up from the bottom of your spine. Tickling your tummy with jolts of pleasure only to have it diminish when Bucky pulls his fingers out.

Frustrated whine leaving your lips only to choke on air when Bucky offers one of the fingers perviously buried inside your cunt to Sam. Who doesn’t hesitate to wrap his lips around the single digit, groaning at the very taste of your essence. Circling the tip with his tongue, making sure to clear every drop off while keeping eye contact with Bucky. Mimicking with his mouth how he’d suck Bucky’s cock, garnering a growl from deep within his chest. Letting go with a smirk, “Even better Buck and I bet from the source it’s simply heaven.”

“Only way to find out,” answering grin firmly in place he raises from the floor. Helping you stand on shaky legs turning you to face him. Capturing your lips in an open mouth kiss, flicking his tongue against yours, teasing your bottom lip and drawing out another frustrated groan making him chuckle. “Don’t worry doll we promise you won’t go unsatisfied we’re going to take care of your every need.”

“Don’t tease her Buck it’s not fair,” glint of mischief sparking through those russet eyes that only Bucky catches since your still face him. Sam comes up behind to pressing his bare chest against your back, hands resting on your hips, tugging and letting the band of your panties snap back against your skin. “You can still say no.”

Wiggling back against Sam then pressing forward to feel the hard line of Bucky’s erection against your lower tummy. Knowing why he’s asking, seeing the same sentiment mirrored in Bucky’s eyes that warms your heart filling with love for both men. “Now who’s teasing Samuel,” reaching behind you to slide your palm over his ridged cock giving a squeeze at the same time you palm Bucky. “I’m sure my loves,” enjoying the answering growls from both men. Before another word leaves your lips Sam tugs down your panties letting them pool at your feet as Bucky moves you towards the bed.

Swiping the book from the mattress to lay on the nightstand, smile on his lips at finding the well loved copy of The Fellowship of the Ring. Bringing you to sit then lay back against the cool sheets, trailing his vibranium fingers from your cheek down between your breasts. Circling each nipple, giving the right a light pinch that has your back arching and a gasp existing your paired lips. Distracted till Sam gently grips your left ankle, spreading you open to slide between your legs. Pressing kisses alone the inside of your leg towards your thigh. Soft bread tickling your skin making giggles erupt from your mouth.

“I think she likes that Sam,” the comment spoken against your ear. Placing a kiss to your cheek, “Have to remember to let my own beard grow back out.”

Whimpering softly at the thought one hand fisting the sheets as Sam draws his tongue over the crease between thigh and groin. Purposefully avoiding the spot you want him most, “Payback is a bitch boys,” words growled out right as Bucky envelopes your left nipple into the heat of his mouth.

“Teasing half the fun sweetheart have patience,” looking up from between your legs. Stiffen tongue drawing up from your entrance to clit, circling the little throbbing nub and making your back arch, gasping for air.

“Fuck,” single word breathed from deep within your body. Sweat starting to bead across your forehead. Head tossed back into the pillow free hand carding through Bucky’s chestnut hair tugging the strands harshly till he lets your breast go with a wet pop. You guide his mouth up to yours, demandingly taking the kiss over, slipping your tongue into his mouth this time. Swallowing your moans of delight with each thrust of his tongue. Matching the pace Sam sets against your dripping cunt.

Rutting into the mattress to find the prefect friction hoping to ease for a moment the throbbing of his cock. “Stop stealing all those pretty noises Barnes I wanna hear our girl,” reaching up to smack the other mans thigh hard enough to break the two of you apart.

“Sorry not sorry,” giving him a smirk while licking his lips from the heated kiss.

Filing away the fact Bucky knows what means only to have any thought fly from your mind as two thick fingers enter your quivering channel. Slowly thrusting, his mouth suctioned onto your clit, drawing little short patterns making your thighs shake around his head. Slacking off to lazily place kisses over those thighs but still pumping his fingers, crooking them into a come hither motion to brush over that special spongy spot.

Blooming stars behind your tightly closed eyes, “Watch him doll, see how much you loves devouring that pretty cunt.” Voice rough with arousal against your ear, Bucky’s metal fingers dancing over your chest only adding to your heighten state of desire.

At his command you eyes open to lock with Sam’s passion blown blacken eyes. Moaning at the picture he presents you with, panting breath as you keep drawing closer to your orgasm. Only to have Sam back off creating frustrating tension in your body. Gritting out, “I’m going to die if you don’t let me cum.”

Smirk showing in those beloved eyes as he doubles down on your clit. Lips puffy but forming a perfect O too suction and flick his tongue over the engorged nerve bundle. Fingers, third added to stretch you open and picking the pace up as your mouth drops wide in a scream Bucky devours with a deep kiss. To keep from waking the kids or Sarah, his own body on fire with a need to have you both.

Tingles quickly dancing through your veins, breath panting as you break from Bucky’s mouth, one hand gripping the sheets below the other still buried in his hair. Body on fire as you near that perfect orgasm Sam’s intent on giving you.

Denial’s not just a river in Egypt as your eyes pop open at the knock on your door. Reminiscent of what your sluggish brain comes to understand as just a very vivid dream. One that makes your heart drop with the book that’d lay on your chest now face down on the carpeted floor. You stand checking the time of mid night before heading to the door and finding Sarah on the other side with ice cream in hand.

“Figured you might need some cheering up,” letting her in and taking the bowl of your favorite ice cream.

Vivid dream lingering though you don’t share feeling a TMI moment she doesn’t and most likely wouldn’t want to know about her big brother. You steer the topics away from the non existent love life to plans for tomorrow and the coming weekend.

[pro-fangirls-unsocial-life]

Sweet Nothings (1/2) Rex x Reader

A/N: So I just wanted to say that this the first fic I have ever completed and the first once I am ever posting so forgive me if there is still a lot that I have to learn lol. Also I wanted to just say thank you to @captainrexisboo​ and @bad-batch-of-fics​. You guys have both inspired me and are so incredibly nice. I hope that its ok that I’m tagging you guys! I tried to make the reader as gender neutral as possible but if I missed something please let me know! I hope you guys like it!!

Length: ~ 1700 words

Warnings: none :) just fluff

Part two

It had been three months since you had last seen Rex and almost two since your last transmission with him. His leave had been cut short when a crucial system had been invaded by Separatist forces and he had to rush to leave. You had helped him get ready as best as you could and sent him with some of the leftover dinner that you had made from the night left before.

 It was always hard to see him go, especially when you had made plans for him, but you understood. He had a job to do and you both agreed when you started dating that it would be hard to keep a good balance, but you both always tried as best as you could. But this time had been especially hard.

 The only news you had heard from this system, when you even heard news at all, had been bad. Rex had only been able to talk to you for a few minutes before the transmission had been cut off. He had only been able to let you know that he was alive and that he had no idea when he would be home. You spent most nights after that call lying awake, your mind running wild with what might be happening. Just hoping that he was safe, and that he would come back to you.

As you worked each day, you tried to stay focused on whatever vehicle you were working on so that you could leave behind all of the heart wrenching scenarios that you had thought up the night before. It worked most times, but when it just wasn’t enough, you would think about past dates with Rex. They were never particularly fancy, but you wouldn’t ask for anything else.

 The first date you went on was nice and quiet. Equally matched in nervousness, neither of you could keep the heat from rising in your face. He had taken you to this small rooftop restaurant on the far side of Coruscant, close to your apartment and far enough from the senate building that neither of you had to worry about listening to a senator complaining about the food that they had been served. It was a small place, but the food was as amazing as the company you shared. After you left, you walked the upper levels of Coruscant for hours, just talking. About your job, his brothers, your family, all of the planets he had been to, your favorite speeders to work on, why he modified his armor. Everything.

 He told you about a mission that he had been on in the Outer Rim at the start of the war. How it was the most peaceful mission he had ever been a part of.

 It was a relief mission to help resupply the capitol city of Sesid with clean water after the main plant had been targeted by Separatist attacks. The planet was covered in lush tropical forests, and the beaches that lied outside of the town were adorned with beautiful pink sand.

 While they were on the planet, the people would bring them home cooked food in order to thank them for their help. He told you how it was some of the best food he had ever tasted. Almost as good as yours. But the best thing, he said, were the cookies.

 At first glance, they did not look like much. A bit of chocolate in between two flavored wafers, that was then baked. He told you how they just melted as soon as they were in your mouth and how he would like to go back to the planet after the war to find them again.

 When you had finally meandered back to your apartment after hours of talking, you both just stood at the door in silence, not wanting the night to end. At the end of the hall on your floor, beams of golden sunlight began to peer through the window, illuminating the beautiful features of his face.

 “I guess we stayed out pretty late, huh?” You motioned toward the window with a small smile.

 He looked at the window and then back at you. “Yeah, I guess we did” he said with a laugh.

 “I had a really nice time” you said as you looked up at him. “I wish that the night was longer, but if I’m being honest, I probably won’t be able to stay awake for much longer.”

 Rex brought his hand up to the back of his neck as he looked out the window overlooking the city again. “Hm. Yeah. I should probably be getting back to the barracks.”

 “Yeah. You wouldn’t want Kix to pull rank to force you to sleep again,” you giggled as you turned around to unlock your door.

 “Hey! That’s only happened four times!”

 “Four times to many,” you smirked. “Thank you again for the wonderful night. I had fun,” you smiled as you turned around to face him again.

 “So did I,” he said softly as he gently grabbed your hand and began tenderly running his thumb over your knuckles. “Can I see you again?”

 You looked up from where he held your hand to meet his eyes. As he looked at you, you saw the adoration on his face that had mixed with the fear of waiting for your answer. As he gazed at you, you felt the heat rising up in your face like it had when the night first began.

 “Yes.” You smiled. “I would like that very much.”

 A smile broke out across his face that outshone the sunlight that was seeping into the small hallway.

 He bent down into a bow and brought your hand up to his lips and lightly kissed it. “Well, until then cyare,” he said as his smile continued to beam up at you. As he stood up, he brought his face up to yours a placed a kiss on your cheek. “Get some sleep Y/N,” he said as he gave you one last smile and walked back down the hall toward the stairway.

 You stood there for a moment and brought your hand up to touch your still buzzing cheek. After a moment, you smiled and entered your apartment. “Until then Rex,” you whispered to yourself.

 As you stood up from your workbench, you kept wishing that Rex could be here with you now. You wished that you could be on another peaceful date with him and that you could feel his warmth beside you. You wiped down all of your tools and began placing them back into their places on the shelves when your communicator beeped.

 “Huh. That’s weird,” you said as you picked it up. “Its late for anyone to be comming me.” You looked down at the message and your heart leapt out of your chest.

 We are coming home. Will be back planet side tomorrow. Can’t talk now but will see you at your apartment when dismissed.  See you soon. ~  Rex

 “Rex,” you whispered to yourself. “He’s safe.” You felt the weight of the last three months completely leave you and you rushed to finished packing up for the night.

 As you locked up the repair hangar you were thinking about what you were going to want to do for Rex when he got back. You knew that this mission had been a particularly bad one and that he would want nothing more than to get his mind off of it. 

As you walked through the many booths and shops that littered the street, you saw one out of the corner of your eye that had a familiar look to it.

 You walked over to it and looked at the shopkeeper. “Are you new around here? I’ve never seen your booth before.”

 “Sure am! I just got here five days ago.” He motioned to the shelves and tables that made up the little booth. “Is there anything that I can get for you?”

 As you looked at the many trinkets and small packages of food that adorned the table, you realized where you had seen these things before. Rex had pulled up pictures of that planet he had told you about on the holonet. “Are you from Sesid by any chance?”

 “Yeah,” he said enthusiastically. “How’d you know? Most people can’t tell just based off the goods.”

 “My boyfriend was there on a relief mission once. He showed me pictures when we were talking about it.”

 “Ah! He must be one of the clones that helped get water back to the capitol city, right? That’s the only relief mission I ever heard about. Never cared too much to venture to the capitol myself but a buddy of mine said that they were pretty helpful.” He started to lean back into one of the counters as he spoke. “Me? I was getting tired of the attacks on the planet that had to keep being fended off. Well, that and the kriffing tourists,” he said as he rolled his eyes. “Anyways, why do you ask? Is there something from Sesid that meets your fancy?”

 “Actually, yeah,” you smiled. “Do have any cookie type things? The ones with chocolate in them?”

 The man bit his lip and looked up, thinking. “You mean Idelle wafers? Two things with chocolate in between them?” He reached under the counter and produced a small bag with the picture of the cookies on them.

 “Yes! That looks like them!” The man handed you the bag and you looked it over. “How much?”

 “Well that bag has about three of them in there, and its two credits. But,” he said reaching back below the counter, “this one has ten of them in it, and its six credits.”

 “I’ll take the bigger one please.” You reached into your pocket and handed the man the credits.

 He pocketed them and smiled back up at you. “Thank you very much. Have a nice night and enjoy those Idelle wafers!” He waved and turned to start helping the next person at the counter.

 You nodded and started to walk back toward your apartment. “I think he will,” you murmured to yourself as you continued into the night.

[the-river-person]

Mistral Sans is now Community Shared

To echo the words of @undertaleauoc, Mistral is "open for use" without the need to request permission from the creator (me) though I’d like to be tagged and credited still. Mistral Formerly named: Sans Age: 10 to the power of 100 years (technically a little more than that by now, but the number is so huge that it's no longer relevant.) Gender: Male Appearance: Appears much like Classic Sans, except for the silvery-white crystalline formations growing all over his body. These can get quite large if he hasn’t removed them in a while, and are often quite sharp to anyone with flesh instead of bone. He makes an effort to keep the Kenón from growing up over his head and face, or from completely encasing his body, but it's difficult to keep up with since it grows faster whenever he happens to be in the Void itself. He wears a long brown overcoat, gloves, and long black trousers, mostly in effort to hide the Kenón as much as possible or keep the sharp points from cutting people by accident. He also keeps a red bandana around his neck, something given to him by Papyrus. His eyes never went back to their original state after the Void-Sickness. Instead of dark hollows with a white iris, they seem to be a pale grey, like a well of deep nothingness. Backstory: Mistral’s Universe is based upon the question “What would happen if the Human just never stopped the Resets, but went on forever?” And the resulting Tale that followed was one of mindless repetitions for time out of mind as the Human would Reset in order to prevent the Underground from being destroyed. Eventually the human, who was no longer human, stopped when Sans suggested a different means to preserve their Universe without killing. This Underground has a deep history of worship and lore that surrounds their Angel, and Sans played the role of Judge, a historical job where someone representing the Angel’s Justice would be called upon to make an absolute Judgement upon anyone or anything. The King called upon him to bring his judgement upon the entire Underground for their part in everything. Formerly a scientist under his Uncle Gaster, he helped come up with the “Solution” which the entire Underground was inoculated with to help them remember beyond Resets. He himself was a victim of the Void poisoning like that which affected Gaster’s Followers and was only saved from being wiped to a blank slate by Gaster’s efforts. A fragment of Kenón (Void-stone) and determination was placed in his soul, causing the crystals to spread from it. In later years as the Underground thrived despite the Resets, he pushed himself to get another degree, this time in psychology, and eventually became a practicing therapist/psychologist (as well as the Underground’s willing delivery boy. He liked being able to see and talk to people all the time, and get to know things.) Upon the destruction of his Universe he was thrown into the Void with his Uncle Gaster, where they were rescued by the mysterious River Person. They met with Ink!Sans who explained the Multiverse and gave them the means to travel it. Now they travel from Universe to Universe, or sometimes wander the Void itself, or the Anti-Void. Gaster (now named Majuscule) is searching for his children, and Sans (now named Mistral) is helping while searching for the Ship his brother escaped with and whatever survivors of his people there might still be. Personality: Mistral is old. Though he was in a mindless forgetful repetitive state for much of the Resets, and has few memories of his own childhood beyond what Papyrus reminded him of, he is significantly mentally older than most of the other Monsters from his Universe. The determination in his soul (along with the Kenón) makes him very strong willed and much more powerful than he was before. It also gives him a minor energy boost. His years as a scientist specializing in studies of the Soul and Physics, as well as his later degree in psychology and practice as a therapist, make him a fairly discerning person who is easily approachable and can talk about a number of different subjects with ease. Despite his actions during the Genocide Routes, he is a much more mentally stable person (possibly one of the most stable Sanses out there from what I see) and is very much a pacifist, refusing violence altogether and choosing to let his words and mind guide him out of trouble, or his teleportation to let him escape danger. Because of his refusal to consider physical violence, even in his own defense, his skill in using fighting magic has atrophied. He can no longer summon the blasters at all, and his bone attacks are weaker. His teleportation on the other hand is much stronger and he can do it more often without tiring too much. The other effects of his refusal to fight means that he must proactively avoid confrontation whenever possible. Mistral uses his knowledge of how people think and act to guide his interactions with others, putting even Monsters from the Fell Universes at ease with well timed and thought out humorous comments, as well as just generally being willing to listen and try to see from the point of view of other people. He can tell puns, but they usually sound a bit forced, like he memorized them somewhere and was just waiting for a point to use them. Very rarely he’ll come up with the perfect one on the spot and be absolutely thrilled with himself. More often he uses dry humor, throwaway lines, or Hyperbole.

His willingness to try and defuse the tension caused by aggressive Monsters he’s dealing with can sometimes backfire on him and serves to make the Monster even angrier and more violent. Mistral will then flee, not wanting to fight them, but often marking himself as guilty or suspicious in the process when this happens with an authority figure who has confronted him for his presence.

The Kenón crystal growing all over his body tends to freak people out as well, which is why he hides it as much as he can beneath the overcoat, gloves, and bandana.

Like all skeletons of his Universe, Mistral has a great knowledge of fonts and writing systems, punctuation marks, ciphers, and typography. It is a very important subject to them as it very closely ties with how they see themselves, their identity as a person. This may be rather strange to skeletons from other Universes who do not share this background. A similar problem comes when skeletons from other Universes find out how strongly he and the Monsters of his world believe in the mythical Angel of Mount Ebbot and often pray to them or swear by them (or use “Angel” as a swear).

He’s also very interested in the concept of Identity and how it can change over time or be altered by events in your life, and how names connect to the concept of identity.

Can I use Mistral in my comic/story/animation/etc?: Sure. He’s a wandering type character, so it's likely he’ll show up in countless Universes and places all over while searching for his brother and his missing cousins. Sometimes he’ll be with Gaster and sometimes not.

One thing to note is that his story will have a continuation, so if in your story you detail events that involve him beyond just a brief meeting, chat, or background character… Just be aware that it's probably not going to be canon to the story I’m planning for him (though if we take other Multiverses into account it could be canon elsewhere).

I would like to insist that you tag and credit me on his use (Credit is good. Tagging me makes it so I can come see your wonderful creations).

Can I ship Mistral with this other character/characters?: Yeah, why not?. Canonically he’s aesexual and only very passingly interested in the idea of romantic relationships. But sure, ship him with whoever you like. Just know that it's not canon to this Multiverse.

While I would still like to be tagged in stuff that involves him. I know I can’t stop nsfw art/writing and other things of that nature from happening, much as I might like to. But be warned, If I see it or am tagged with that, or am sent asks of that... I will block you. Fontcest, Incest ships, child ships, or smut in general will all get you blocked instantly.

Canon height and weight: 4-5 feet high (same as Classic Sans). Weight was trickier. He’s a skeleton. A human skeleton is only about 15% of your body weight. So classic is probably somewhere around 16 or so pounds. But Mistral is covered by continually growing crystalline structures of Kenón. Since the crystal is heavy but spread out and somewhat kept under control, it probably only doubles his weight, making him 32 pounds.

Canon strength: Mistral isn’t a fighter. His attacks are weak because his desire to actually fight is nonexistent, even if he has to defend himself or others. But his actual physical strength, as opposed to his magical attacks, sees a significant increase to that of your normal Sans. The Kenón crystals actually increase his defense by making his bones stronger and more crack resistant, and his self healing is well equipped to deal with most breaks, though they’re still quite painful.

He also has increased endurance for longer physical or magical activities so long as combat or confrontation isn’t part of it.

Since he weighs more, he can’t jump as high as a Sans who weighs less (not that it's a huge difference. He’s only 32 pounds. Plus his strength can mostly make up for it by pushing himself off harder when jumping.)

Is it okay if I draw him with another gender, age, height, or sexuality?: Go for it. Have fun. Tag and credit me. But remember that it’s not canon to THIS Multiverse that I’m working in.

Canon Birthday?: September 16th (though he hasn’t celebrated in a LONG time. He probably doesn’t remember his last actual birthday party. Papyrus might though…)

Font?: Used to be Comic Sans. But now it's Mistral (upper and lowercase).

Original AU: Aeontale by

a_river_is_a_liminal_space

(or the-river-person. basically… me)

Can I send Asks for more details if I need or want them?: Yes. My askbox is open. I’ll answer what I can. I’ve put everything I can think of on here, but inevitably there’s always something missed in things like this. So ask away.