#I don't actually have anything wildly outlandish to say down here this time???

[roguerogerss]

A Long Day of Saving Your Ass

(gif isn’t mine, creds to the owner!)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Plot: “Hi darlin! If you’re still taking requests could you do a Bucky x reader where she gets her ass saved from literal death by Bucky during a mission and she refuses to leave his side on the way back or at the tower? And he gives her a back/foot massage to make her nerves calm down aaand they may or may not share a kiss bc they like each other? I hope that makes sense, tysm! 💞” - requested by anon

W/C: 2.3k

Warnings: mentions of fights/blood/kinda ptsd but not really? she’s pretty much just really shaken up and Bucky’s cute and protective as hell about it. also kinda sexual themes towards the end, no smut or anything though it’s all fluff!

(A/N: first of all, thank you so much for all of the love on my last fic, it really really does mean the world and that was just totally insane. okay, so, this request only came in yesterday, but I was so in love with the concept and had this wave of ideas for what I could write, and so here it is! thank you so much for this one, bby! as always, requests are open for any marvel boy you want, plus any of the stranger things boys. i do smut too hehe. any feedback is so welcome and appreciated, it really helps! please like and reblog!)

————

The quinjet was ready to take off, engine on, Steve behind the wheel. But Y/N wasn't there yet. They'd been holding off on leaving, giving her time to get out and the opportunity to do it without help, but Bucky had been antsy since he'd gotten on the vehicle and realised that she wasn't there.

It wasn't exactly a secret that he liked her, in a way that he hadn't really liked anyone in over seventy years. He'd never admitted it to anyone, not even to himself out loud, but you have to have a certain level of intelligence and basic sight to join the Avengers in the first place, and it wasn't hard to figure out.

Y/N was oblivious to it, rolling her eyes whenever Natasha teased her about 'Bucky's little crush', never taking it seriously. If she'd known that they were really serious about it, she wouldn't have hesitated to make a move. She was inherently forward, had no sense of shame whatsoever, it was common knowledge that she would've said something, at the very least.

"Hey, Y/N, where are you right now?" Bucky spoke into the intercoms, earning wide eyed glances from the rest of the team. They knew that she hated being rushed, hated being babied even more, and the fact that Bucky was doing both was probably about to blow up in all of their faces.

There were obvious sounds of struggle on her end as she answered back with a grunt, "South side, got ten guys on my case. Think I can handle it, though."

"We're ready to leave, Y/N." Bucky grunted, leaning forward in his seat and chewing at his lip. He was met back with a crash and a strangled groan from the assassin, making him shoot up and towards the exit of the ship.

"Bucky, where are you going? She'll kill you if you try to help her-" Tony was standing now, too, worried about his teammate, but figuring that she'd find some way out. Bucky shook his head and pressed the button to open the escape hatch.

"She's going to die if I don't help her, Stark. Keep the engine running, we'll be back in a second." And he was gone with that. Steve closed the hatch, radioing to Bucky to 'keep in touch' as he did so.

Bucky pulled his machine gun from the holster on his back, shooting two guards that were stationed at the front entrance of the Hydra base that they'd sneakily infiltrated, managing to only cause a few minor scenes. He was inside and backed against a wall, scoping out his route to the south side of the building, without wasting a second.

His feet pounded on the metal stairs as he made his way down to where they'd been earlier, where he knew that Y/N still was, and he looked around himself cautiously, gears in his arm turning.

He could hear the fight before he could see it, and he could tell from the noises that Y/N wasn't doing so well. A lot of crashing, thuds, groans mostly from her. The sight wasn't exactly easy to look at either, she was covered in blood, slumped against a wall and kicking her legs wildly while one of the agents held a gun to her temple.

Bucky knew that he had to act fast, and so he shot the agent with the gun without giving away his position, and then proceeded to open fire on the rest of them, trusting in the fact that Y/N knew how to dodge a bullet.

When he was sure that the agents were dead, each one of them crumpled in heaps on the floor, he slung his gun back over his shoulder and ran for Y/N, who let out a relieved sigh upon seeing Bucky. "Oh my God, Buck." She whispered. She wasn't sure what she meant by the words, what she wanted to convey in them, but he seemed to pick up just fine as he wrapped his arms around her shaking and compacted body.

"You're okay, I've got you." He rested his head on top of hers for a second, breathing heavy, just allowing himself to enjoy how it felt to have his body draped over hers. "We've gotta go, okay?"

"I can't run." She said assertively, knowing that there was no way that she'd be able to get up and run like hell, like Bucky seemingly wanted her to. He nodded once, gave her an apologetic smile, and then scooped her up into his arms without another word.

She scrambled to grip onto his black jacket, a gasp leaving her mouth as he picked her up from the floor, flesh arm supporting the backs of her knees and the metal one around her shoulders. He chuckled at her reaction, the way that she white-knuckled the leather of his combat jacket. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna drop you."

"How do you expect me to believe that?" She croaked, trying her hardest to be her usual, sardonic self, but failing miserably as she realised just how fast and hard her heart was beating.

"Because I just saved you from at least ten guys who wanted to kill you within a minute, I'm not dropping you." Bucky replied as he ascended the stairs and she buried her face in his chest, the smell of his cologne relaxing her. He allowed a soft smile to cross his face, bringing his metal hand to her head and almost rocking her like an infant or a small child who had a nightmare.

For Tony saying that she hated being 'babied', she seemed to enjoy it when it was coming from Bucky.

They were back at the ship within a few minutes. Steve had taken off, and Bucky had gone to sit in the back of the ship on his own. Or at least, he'd wanted to sit in the back of the ship on his own, but Y/N was so shaken up and had looked at him like she was a lost puppy when he'd tried to leave her alone, and so he smiled and told her to come with him.

Everyone else had looked between themselves, grinning like mad. "He really likes her." Steve commented and Natasha nodded.

"She really likes him, I'm well aware of that fact." She said.

"I've never seen The Winter Soldier so caring. And, was that - sorry if this seems outlandish - a smile? On Bucky Barnes' face? Surely not." Tony pitched in, leaning back in his chair while his friends laughed.

Meanwhile, Y/N was curled up in a chair, chewing at her fingernails and dabbing at her bloody face with a wet cloth that Bruce had given her the second that she'd gotten on the ship. Bucky watched her, his heart breaking at the way that her hands shook as she brought them to her face, at the way that her entire body shook.

"Hey." He placed a tender and soothing hand on her back, rubbing gentle circles there. "It's okay, you're safe now."

She gave him a wobbly smile that didn't quite reach her eyes and placed her hand over his, allowing him to interlock their fingers. "Yeah. Safe now."

————

She still hadn't left his side, apart from briefly so that she could take a shower. He'd offered to come back to her room with her when she'd hovered around the lounge while everyone else had already dispersed, reminding her that no one was going to hurt her.

She was laying on her bed, hair wet and wearing nothing but a big shirt, while Bucky sat awkwardly on the edge of it, twisting the sheets between his fingers. "You don't have to sit there, you know. I have a sofa, or you can sit back."

Bucky shook his head and looked round at her, she was still visibly shaking, eyes darting around to show just how on edge she was. "It's fine, darlin'. M'fine." His voice was more ragged than he'd expected it to be. "I'm just here to make sure that you're okay."

"Well," She held her arms out, "Come here, that'd make me feel okay." It was a bold move, one that told of her feelings towards Bucky, but she didn't mind much, figuring that he probably wouldn't decline her.

He chuckled, shaking his head at her, but still, kicked his boots off and lay down next to her, allowing her to wrap her arms tightly around his torso and press her cheek over his heart. "Hey, you're okay, sweetheart." He stroked her hair. "There's nothing to be on edge about, yeah? I've got you."

"Yeah. Yeah, I know. Sorry, I don't know why I'm so freaked out." Her breathing was picking back up again, so Bucky shushed her and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, something that drove the butterflies in her stomach wild.

"It's okay, baby." The nickname just added to the way that her stomach fluttered, and she swallowed hard to try to forget about it. "Hey, how about I do something that'll relax you, yeah?"

"And what would that be, Barnes?" She smirked mischievously and he laughed at her.

"Lay on your stomach." He removed his arm from around her shoulders, and she looked at him with one eyebrow raised, obviously thinking that he was implying something way more forward than what he was actually implying. "Woah, no, no, no. I give good back massages, metal arm and all."

She laughed, throwing her head back into the pillows at the headboard of her bed. "Oh my God, Bucky. I hate you so much." She breathed out, flipping over so that she was laying on her stomach, back exposed to him.

"Can I pull your shirt up, or?" Bucky whispered, running his hands up and down the back of her t-shirt, and she nodded.

His breath hitched in his throat and he found himself struggling to think straight when he lifted the hem of her large shirt, to show that she was only wearing a pair of black panties underneath. She didn't seem to mind, so he didn't mention it, even though his breathing was hindered as he trailed his hands from the small of her back to her shoulders, thumbs rubbing circles as he did so.

She sighed and could've sworn that her eyes rolled back into her head as she relaxed into his touch, one hand cold and the other warm. She understood what he meant when he said that he was good at giving back massages.

"Feel okay?" He asked softly, swallowing hard. She nodded again.

"My God, Bucky, feels fucking amazing." She moaned, and he hated himself when his stomach flipped upon hearing her. "You're so good at that."

He had to stop when she said that, hands still on her shoulders but unmoving, just sitting still. He couldn't think about anything else other than sex when she was moaning like that, something that he wanted to punch himself for. It was such a tender moment, she was scared and so vulnerable, and all that was going through his brain were those thoughts.

"You okay?" She asked, and when he didn't answer she flipped back over, sitting in front of him. He looked like he'd seen a ghost as his tongue darted out to lick over his bottom lip. She reached a hand out, caressing his cheek gently to bring him back to reality. "Bucky?"

"Can I kiss you?" The words were leaving his mouth before he even knew what to do with them, what they meant and how she'd react. As soon as he realised what he'd said, he had his face in his hands, shaking his head. "Shit, sorry."

"No. No, Bucky, don't apologise. Look at me." She wrapped her fingers around his wrist, prying his hands away from his face. "Yes. Of course you can kiss me."

He furrowed his eyebrows, wondering if what she'd just said was real. She was looking into his eyes so intently, staring at the light blue rings around his pupils, realising how pretty they really were now that she was this close. "Kiss me." She whispered, and Bucky took no hesitation in complying to what she was asking of him.

His lips were on hers, and they were so gentle and soft, gliding against hers effortlessly. He pulled her closer to him with a hand on her back, the other cupping her cheek lovingly. His tongue had soon slipped between her lips, earning a soft little whine from her, as his tongue met hers and they worked out how to move them together in harmony.

She eventually pulled back, breathless, and simply grinned at him before laying back and pulling him with her. They resumed their earlier position, her arms wrapped firmly around his waist, his arm around her shoulders, her head on his chest while his hand stroked her hair. "Relaxed?" He laughed and she smiled and nodded.

"I'll get goin', it's late and you look tired, princess." Another nickname, another flourish from the butterflies in the pit of her stomach. Just as Bucky was getting up to leave, she grabbed onto his shirt and pulled him back to her, snuggling back up to his chest.

"Stay. Please."

[sicklylittlesnowflake]

you don't have to write it if it doesn't speak to you, but i just read and loved your fic where peter calms tony down from a panic attack, and now i offer a Good Concept: Peter trying to help Tony get through a meeting at SHIELD when Tony's spacey and in pain from a headache/fever?

@taylortut !!!! I really like this prompt girl!!

In the course of his lifetime Tony has witnessed the discovery of alien life, multiple alien invasions, discovering that the very threads of his reality all coincided within 6 stones, and yet he had never been more confused in his life up until this moment.

Everything Nick Fury says seems to be a jumble of words that don’t seem to be any language, perhaps some alien language but even then they’re barely even audible. They’re all slurred together and seemingly slowed down like his VCR tape had just malfunctioned.

He feels warm and hot all over and he felt like his face was on fire but his lower half was stuck in the middle of the arctic, and he wanted to scream. There was part of him that wanted to throw a tantrum and crawl up on the floor wailing in agony, but he was a grown man who was much respected with a very strong image to pursue and doing such a thing was..out of character, to the say the least.

Tony doesn’t remember the last time he felt this sick, hell, he doesn’t even think he’s ever felt this sick in his entire life. He grits his teeth together as he braces this headache that comes in ravaging like a hurricane in his head, destroying every cell in his brain. His fists are balled intensely in an attempt to anchor himself through this whirlwind of pain, and he doesn’t know if he’s really not concealing his discomfort well at all or Peter is just this observant but either way he can sense that the kid is staring holes into him.

Peter, as always, is kind and loving, with a soul softer than his damn hair, which is pretty damn soft. He doesn’t stare at Tony with malicious or judging intent, he stares at him with genuine concern and worry, and this sort of nervous energy he sort of sees in himself. He knows this kid isn’t his, but it sure feels like it.

Peter doesn’t quite know sign language all too well, he’s only just started after all (because he was an avenger now, all the avengers know sign language for Clint, why was he any different? and yes, Mr Stark, he was an avenger now) and he seems to be making up his own bizzaro form of sign language, which mostly consisted of an equally outlandish series of facial expressions. Tony has absolutely no clue what this kid is trying to communicate, but he can only assume is a, ‘you okay?’

As dumb and ridiculous as this exchange is, at least its amusing and it’s giving him a break from everything else that’s going on.  Peter’s great at that. He gives him a little break from everything in the world that’s shitty and bleak and shows him what’s right with the world. His headache hurt a little bit less.

Tony raises an eyebrow in amusement.

Peter shows a bit agitation, frustrated he can’t quite get his point across, not wanting to interrupt Fury who seems to still be going on about these Ravagers he doesn’t really understand, and tries mouthing his message, but Tony pretends like he doesn’t understand, because yes he’s sick but he’s a little shit and being sick doesn’t stop that.

Peter, who’s directly in front of him, gives him a look that just tells him he knows what he’s up to. He looks absolutely done with him. He sighs dramatically,  and goes on listening to some guy who’s started drone on and on about budget control. Tony knows he’s not really listening though and trying to discreetly check in on him, and he makes a mental note to see about teaching Peter a thing or two about stealth.

But all the joking and lighthearted tomfoolery doesn’t last long and it fades quickly and the storm starts up again. He feels awfully lightheaded and his head hurts so much, his whole body is heavy and he feels lost. It’s like he’s disconnected and disassociated and he’s simply hovering around, him and his body seeming to not connect. He feels a little delirious like his entire body is slowly dying off in a desert and his face is burning.

He feels like his body is begging for rest, gripping at his chair to anchor himself as he’s hit with yet another tidal wave of pain, nausea, and hot and cold waves and Peter seems to sense this. He eyes him worriedly, trying to keep up his discreet charade but he gives it up.

“Do you guys want some water?” Peter chirps up suddenly, interrupting the guy who’s still on about budget control, earning himself an annoyed look. He blushes a little as he realises what he’s done is a little rude, but to him Tony’s welfare is more dire right now than how much money is being allocated towards a new doorway.

“You can get some if you want, Mr Parker,” He sighs, teeth gritted and quickly resuming his bit.

Tony shoots Peter a tired look but the kid is gone in a flash, and when he’s gone it’s like everything is much worse because there’s no one to sulk at. He stifles a cough into the tailored fabric of his suit jacket, going relatively unnoticed which he’s glad for. He lets himself slump just a little, not too much, he still has an image, but he lets that image go just the tiniest bit.

Every second Peter is gone seems to last an eternity and a half. The world does by in this agonisingly slow pace, it seems to blur out of focus so his headache is heightened and he can practically hear his head throbbing. He feels so incredibly faint and so horrible he doesn’t know if he’s even here, it’s a nightmarish version of his life that is so surreal and trippy without the promise of a high.

Eventually Peter returns with a cart full of glasses, and passes some to random people in the conference room. Tony thinks about how out of place he looks, but he understands it for him and it makes him love the kid a lot more now. He wheels the cart towards the him, and passes him a glass of cold water that his brain is crying tears of joy for, as well as a oddly folded napkin.

Tony eyes it suspiciously and lifts the fold to reveal two aspirins and all he can do is give Peter the look of pure gratitude and euphoria.

Peter deliberately drops a napkin to crouch down and whisper, “I got them off this really nice lady called Daisy–you owe me one.”

He discreetly pops the pills into his mouth and gives Peter a nod, taking a good sip of his water. He doesn’t normally accept good actions like this so casually, but he lets his pride go because the sense of gratitude and appreciation he feels outweighs any sense of gargantuan ego he has.

And then everything felt like it was going to be fine. ‘Hell yeah I’m gonna make it through this’, Tony thinks proudly, his headache hurts and the cold and hot waves are rushing up and down him in the most uncomfortable way but he can handle this. He can hold on. Things are actually going in his favour for once. Everything is okay in the world.

But then hell breaks loose and Tony’s world is entirely shaken and flipped and nothing is okay.

He doesn’t exactly know what’s happened because his mind is focused solely on not passing out and keeping up a healthy facade, but he thinks Thunderbolt Ross said something that pissed off Fury and they’re yelling and they’re so loud and there’s more voices yelling and it’s all meddling and it’s just too much.

There’s a ringing in his ears and the room is closing in and Tony can hear his heart thumping and he can feel it and the dull roar of the ringing is now a shrill shriek. The lights seem to be fading in and out and the sounds only seem to get louder and everything seems to be heavier and weighing down on him

and Tony is drowning.

Tony swallows hard as his heart races and his breathing shallows and his hands are sweating. He grips the chair hard and tightly and the pressure he’s applying is so much he can feel the skin of his palms straining and his skin burns. He looks around wildly, his lip trembling and he’s shaking and he feels so lost. He feels so sick and his body cannot handle any more and he’s losing control fast and Tony more than anything hates losing control because he feels like he’s floating away and he feels so hauntingly light.

He desperately wants to ground himself and come back because he’s so terrified he’ll float away so far he can never come back. But then his gaze locks upon Peter’s and it’s like he’s grabbed his hand just before he’s fallen off the cliff into nothingness.

And he still feels like he’s teetering off the edge but he’s still here, and as Peter gives him the kindest look he’s ever seen he feels himself being brought back up to the surface slowly but surely. Everything else seems to fade into a dull roar and he focuses his entire entity on to him.

‘Breathe’, Peter mouths, and he begins to breathe in and out slowly and steadily, gesturing for him to follow suit.

Tony nods shakily, and slowly tries to match him. He’s off tempo and he’s rushing, coming in a bit too early but he gets a sense of the rhythm and follows him, never once tearing his gaze, completely locked on him. And he feels safe. He’s still here.

Peter gives him a smile, a proud smile, and Tony’s left wondering what he ever did to deserve such a sweet person in his life.

Peter’s face shifts and he pulls out his phone, pretending to read a text, and it’s really obvious, and the mental note Tony made to teach Peter about stealth seems to climb up quite a bit.

“Uh, guys?” Peter interrupts the chaos that is Shield’s conference room, earning a particularly venomous look from that budget control guy from earlier.

“Yes, Mr.Parker?” Ross sighs.

“Uh, I just got a text from Mr Rhodes and he says he needs myself and Mr Stark like..uh..urgently?” Peter lies.

“Just go,” He brushes off quickly, seemingly uninterested and diving right into his angry tangent.

Peter gestures towards Tony, raising his eyebrows and heading towards the door. Tony follows, the journey a horrendous trek that seemed to leach every single joule of energy remaining in his body. He keeps himself straight and professional, but the moment the doors closed he feels his knees buckling and his body becoming light and his world begin to tilt.

Peter was quicker, his instincts alert and responsive and in a swoop his arm was catching him and pulling him upright, supporting and caring.

“We gotta get you home, Mr.Stark, I’ll call Happy,” Peter suggests, his grip strong but not hurtful in any sense.

“You shouldn’t see me like this,” Tony laments, remorse and shame lacing his words.

“Why not?”

“Your role models shouldn’t be weak.”

Peter is silent for a moment, but he softens, “All my heroes aren’t perfect.”

“Captain America was the scrawny little guy from New York,” Peter explains softly, and chuckles, “Just like me.”

“Dr Banner has some mental health problems. Hawkeye is hard of hearing. Black Widow used to be an assassin. Winter Soldier’s going through some pretty serious trauma, and so is Falcon. The Scarlet Witch worked with Ultron. And Thor..uh, he seems pretty perfect but uh, I’m sure there’s something–oh yeah, he’s got pretty strong emotions he can’t resist sometimes.”

“But my point is.. All my heroes aren’t perfect . And neither are you and that’s okay. It helps me know that I can be somebody too, you know?” Peter says, and looks over at him to give him a reassuring smile that tells him everything will be okay.

“I..didn’t have a lot growing up and seeing that my favourite heroes don’t have everything makes me feel like I can really do something with my life, you know? All I need..is that drive to make the world better, right? So yeah, no, I gotta disagree with you Mr Stark, my role models don’t have to be always strong. They just gotta keep trying.”

Tony can’t help his smile, “The whole world should be like you, kid. Kids like you remind me about why we do this.”

Tony puts a hand on his shoulder and brings him a bit closer, “Now, enough sap talk and let’s get me the hell home.”

[misssugarpinkshome]

Oh I feel bad :(. Could you do a Sans and Male Reader short story? I hope your day gets better! You're a great writer. Maybe Sans admits to the reader that he has a crush on them? (I know it's not very creative, and if you don't want to write for it, that's okay! I just hope (whatever you're going through) that you can see the good in whatever's happening. There's always something good to latch onto in a bad situation. I love your writing, and hope your day gets better. :)

Thanks so much for the prompt. :) I’m feeling much better than I had been, and this fic really helped! It’s just a random reader and a Sans. I think Reedz was kept pretty gender neutral in this one, but I imagined a male reader.

Thanks for the compliments as well. It was a huge confidence booster. :)

Fic is under the cut!

You sighed, struggling to light the cigarette in your hands. Today had just been absolute shit. First, Sans - the skeleton, as he had told you when you’d first met - had introduced you to Toriel and Asgore. That would’ve normally gone a lot better, had you not made a complete fool of yourself because they were royalty.

You’d floundered in the kitchen when trying to help Toriel bake a pie, you had spilled tea all over yourself, and your attempt at a goat pun had fallen ridiculously flat. You just weren’t good at that stuff, especially under pressure. Toriel had given you a pity laugh and Asgore had given you a patient smile. The kid there, Frisk, was evidently the ambassador that you’d heard so much about. They had just scrunched up their nose at the pun. Sigh.

Worst of all was probably the way Sans had been watching you all night, though. He had that same smile on his face, that idiotic ‘I know something you don’t know’ smirk that, for some ungodly reason, just made your heart thump a little harder in your ribs. It had only gotten more genuine, wider, after your failures today.

God. He probably thought you were a bumbling moron.

You sighed, relieved as you finally got the cigarette lit. You didn’t smoke often, but you needed to relax after today. You watched the sky, shivering; it was hella cold out, but you would sacrifice that for the view of the stars. Something about it helped to ease the tension in your body, and that always helped you think just a bit clearer.

That would’ve been nice, if all of your thoughts weren’t stuck on Sans.

You knew you had a crush on him. Hell, you’d had a crush on him since the day you met. You had relieved that moment way too many times since then - really, an embarrassing amount of times since then. You remembered the exact look on his face, the exact shape of his eyesockets and the surprised little flicker in his eyes, right down to the moment when you’d fallen directly into him.

You had always been ridiculously clumsy in the winter. Fuck ice. But in this case, you had slipped and fallen on something much softer than icy sidewalks - surprisingly, Sans’s bones were much softer, something you could easily see yourself cuddling. And god, had you imagined it, seeing as you had no control over your dreams. But, unfortunately for Sans, when you fell into him that day, around 2 months ago, all of the art supplies you had been carefully lugging along with you to your studio had decided to fall directly into his fucking eyesocket.

You had been so embarrassed, apologizing profusely, blood rushing to your cheeks faster than to your head as you picked up the few things that didn’t go into his eye. He was absolutely frozen under you, sockets void of color. And you still remembered the exact thing he’d said, the thing that had made your heart suddenly skip just a single beat, enough to make you feel off for the rest of the day.

“eye know iris-k sounding cornea, but i think you just got lost in my eyes.”

You chuckled to yourself as you remembered that moment. It had been one of your most embarrassing ones, for sure - and that was saying a lot. But it had introduced you to… well…

He was funny. Witty, really, with how fast and clever he was with puns. He was protective and good at it too - something you had always needed, being not too strong and not too smart. He made you laugh when you needed it, which was more and more frequently nowadays. But better yet…

You made him laugh too. And it seemed like, sometimes, he needed it  more than you did.

So yeah. You had a crush on a (depressed?) comic skeleton without flesh who would probably think your taste in men is weird. And, well, it probably was. You had only dated a few people before, none of those relationships going very far, and all of them more outlandish in personality than the last. Figured the next one would be a skeleton.

Next… er… Crush. Not date. Because, well…

Why would he ever want you?

You sighed, watching the stars, alone with your thoughts.

“heya, buddy.”

Not as alone as you thought.

“GAH!” You jumped, eyes widening. Sans held up his hands as a sign of good will. “Jesus, don’t DO that! Why do you move silently!?”

Sans grinned, eyes flickering with mischief. Oh no. “i’m not jesus, but feel free to worship me if you’d like.” You groaned, rolling your eyes and looking away from him, visibly pouting. He laughed, motioning next to you on the steps leading to your apartment complex. You’d been living next door to the brothers for awhile now, another fact that made your heart pound. Close proximity did shit to your hormones. “this seat taken?”

You took a breath, letting the smoke trail out your nose as you breathed out. “Be my guest.”

He sat down, glancing at the cigarette. “that stuff’ll kill you, y’know.”

“Not today, it won’t.” You slipped it out of your mouth and crushed it under your shoe anyways. No sense subjecting him to the smoke (did smoking even affect skeletons?). “What brings you out here?”

He didn’t say anything for a minute. You didn’t look his way; doing that usually just made you flustered. You watched the stars in silence until he spoke. “i, uh… wanted to talk to you.”

“About what?” Again, he paused. You risked a glance his way. His cheeks were a bit flushed, tinted blue with his magic. He looked embarrassed, to say the least. At first glance, the sight was adorable to you, making you just want to hug him close and not let him go as you laughed about how silly he looked with a blush. But, well, then your brain caught up with your thoughts.

He was embarrassed.

Oh.

You sighed. “I get it,” you said, seeing him jolt out of the corner of your eye even as you looked down. “Look, I’ll stop bothering you guys, I know I made a complete ass of myself tonight-”

“what? bud-”

“-And I mean, who even tries to joke around with royalty, right? But I was just hella flustered, and when I get stressed out, word vomit happens - like, erg, right there, who uses the phrase ‘word vomit’, that’s just disgusting-”

“human.”

“- So yeah, I’ll just head back inside and you can ignore me for like the rest of life because I know I’m just an embarrassment of a friend? Alright, nice talk, see-”

His hand slapped over your mouth, causing you to stop speaking, mostly out of shock, both from the hand and his face. He looked so concerned. “okay, first off… what? the fuck?”

He dropped his hand. You stayed silent. “like… dude. i don’t give a shit about dinner? actually, believe it or not, that was one of the best times at tori’s that i’ve ever had.”

“Seriously? Sans, I accidentally put salt in the pie. A fucking cup of salt, Sans.”

“and?” Sans ran his hand over his vertebrae, a lopsided grin on his face, eyes just full of light (not that you saw any of this). “you were sodium cute.”

“Sans, stop it with the p-” Your words left you instantly as you processed what he had said.

“… fuck.”

“Sans-”

“fuckfuckfuckfuck-” You looked over in time to see him bury his head in the hood of his jacket. His cheeks, still visible, were stained a brilliant blue. “shit, i have better ones in stock and that’s the one i went with!?”

You blinked, mouth opening and closing without a sound.

He gestured wildly, hood flipping back as he did, still talking. “i was gonna take you to grillby’s, use my old me-n-u pun, or maybe start a fire in the fireplace at tori’s and say ‘you’re hot and i want s’more of you’ - and in the end i went with sodium cute?!” He covered his face with his hands.

“Sans.”

He peeked at you out of the corner of his hands. You laughed a bit at his bashful expression; it wasn’t a face you could ever have imagined on him. “Sans, you’re… You’re flirting with me?”

“er…” He cleared his throat, sitting up a bit. “well, i was tryin’ to. dunno how bad i’m doin’.”

“But… why?”

He blinked, watching you. You felt your cheeks warm up at his expression and wow okay the winter air suddenly felt much less chilly with the look in his eyes. “buddy. have you seen yourself?” He gestured to you with his hand, a helpless look on his face. “you’re goddamn gorgeous, hilarious, and so fucking kind you make my soul hurt.” Your heart lept into your throat as he said that. “i’ve been tryin’ to figure out how to ask you out since, heh, i got lost-”

“-in my eyes,” you finished, wonderment on your face. He stuttered to a stop, that blue tint pulling all your attention. He just nodded wordlessly. “I… Sans…”

“‘s… ‘s okay if you… y’know… aren’t interested in all this.”

“Sans.” You reached out and grabbed his hand. He started at the touch and looked at you. “I… Goddamn it.” You tugged him forward, shutting your eyes and going for it. You lifted his chin so he was in the right position and kissed him-

Right on his teeth.

You pulled back quickly, blushing and opening your eyes. He looked… confused? Fuck. Fuck that was the first time you had kissed him. You had just kissed a skeleton.

HE DIDN’T HAVE FUCKING LIPS.

“… Goddamn it, I can’t do anything right,” you said softly, clearing your throat. “But, uh… T-Think that tells you how I feel about you.”

Sans blinked. He slowly, slowly began to ease into a comfortable smirk. “yeah, you… really can’t kiss right, can you?”

…. Ouch.

This was a prank, wasn’t it? An awful, sick joke he had played on you. And you had fallen-

“cause, well, it takes tulips to kiss, and while you rose to the occasion, i was a lily bit too lazy, huh?”

…

This motherfucker.

Your shock turned into a wide, beaming smile. “Sans. Sans, there’s no flowers out here, it’s the middle of winter.”

“hmm… icy.”  You snorted, your emotions running away with you. Fuck. Fuck, he liked you. He actually - oh god, you actually liked each other? That was a thing? That was a thing that was currently happening? He looked at you and your heart skipped more than just one beat, thumping hard in your chest. Because suddenly, he looked proud, happy, and most of all…

Passionate.

“well… maybe thistle cheer you up.” As he pulled you forward slowly, hand under your chin, you could feel the magic tingling around his skull, and suddenly you were kissing lips made of that magic that made you feel so intensely, and…

He was definitely right.

That cheered you up immensely.

You pulled away softly, a smile on your face. “Guess our love really… blossomed from that first pun?”

“heheh… you’ll make a good pupil,” Sans said, winking. “c’mon - it’s cold out. let’s go warm up, verta-bae.”

You liked the sound of that.