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lilpotatjj · 6 months ago

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Cait and Sam watching their own wedding night episode? Yes aaand no. We all know what these two lovebirds did...like come on who wouldn't? I escalated a wee bit. That's one of my longest Oneshots (almost 5000 words) and I'm gonna continue this with a hugh story about them. Living the forbidden lie in all his cuteness.

Warning: starts with super fluffy and lovely cuteness and turns into a soft 18+ hot mess. Sam beeing Sam and Cait beeing most of the time Cait with slightly cute shyness

(Credits to the Gif owners)

♡Chap.1-Directing their own happy hour♡

A crazy year is over. Filming has long since been completed and the premiere of the first season is over. Several interviews have been held and the first episodes are already on TV. It's September, cool and unpleasantly rainy in LA this year and the day before the premiere of the seventh episode. It's called 'The Wedding Night'.

Cait was out and about, drenched after a conversation with one of the co-producers. It was up in the air whether there would be a second season, but the prospects looked good. She didn't think to bring an umbrella. Why in LA, where it is usually quite warm, even in September.

She ran to her car, the newspaper just over her head for protection, and got in. 'Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ... What the hell is wrong with this weather?' she cursed and was completely soaked. She quickly switched on the engine and turned up the heating. As she drove off, her mobile phone suddenly rang in its holder on the dashboard of the car. 'Hey Sam,' she said simply and focussed on the road.

'Have you been bathing?' he asked wryly, obviously making himself comfortable.

'Very funny...the weather in LA almost reminds me of home,' she was finding it difficult to speak. She was shaking a little and had trouble concentrating. 'I'll call you later if it's unfavourable?' he asked and she said no, perhaps a little too quickly. 'Ah ok' he paused for a moment. 'Tell me what's going on, I'll be fine' she said with chattering teeth and he had to smile, sitting up straight again and looking thoughtful. 'What do you think about travelling to my place and I'll tell you what's going on when you've warmed up at my place?' he asked sincerely without any ulterior motives.

Her cheeks flushed, which wasn't just because she was cold. 'All right, I'm on my way. The same hotel as always?' she asked and he replied with a quick "Yes". The rain didn't stop, on the contrary, it even got heavier. She parked the car in one of the parkingslots in front of the hotel and dashed inside as quickly as she could. Once inside, she asked at reception for the surname Heughan. The servant nodded conspicuously. 'Ah yes, Mr Heughan, he had informed me. He's in room 0410,' he said and with a very friendly smile, he pointed down one of the corridors. Cait thanked him and walked towards his room. Once there, she knocked on his door without thinking. He opened it for her and looked her up and down briefly before she simply entered his hotel room. He looked after her, slightly amused, and went into the bathroom.

When he came out again, he found her standing by the radiator, shivering slightly. He went to her and put a towel over her shoulders. She looked at him gratefully and unconsciously smiled far too sweetly. 'Thank you,' she said quietly and his eyes stayed on hers for longer than he wanted. The reason why he grabbed her towel and started playfully rubbing her hair dry. 'You should bring an umbrella next time,' he said with amusement. 'It wasn't raining when I was out' she gave him an annoyed look as he then went to the wardrobe to lend her some of his own clothes.

'Here' He held the clothes out to her wordlessly and she took them hesitantly. 'It's not going to stop raining that quickly for now. You can spend the night if you want. I'll sleep on the couch,' he said as he looked out of the window. She gave him a look of disbelief. 'Oh come on, we slept anywhere on set where there was space and time. You can sleep in the bed with me' she said dryly without thinking about it and Sam turned to her with his typical look, eyebrow raised slightly, he nodded.

She was right. Time on set was often pretty tough. Sometimes there was no time to sleep and filming often lasted well over 24 hours. Sometimes one of the props or simply a bench was a comfortable place to sleep for a short break. But now they are no longer on set, there is no one around to watch them.

'What did you want to talk about?' she asked curiously as she came out of the bathroom, dressed in one of his big hoodies. She almost sank into it and yet it looked great on her. 'Right, exactly... I wanted to ask you if you'd like to watch tomorrow's episode of Outlander with me' he said and she looked at him curiously. 'What episode was it again?' she asked, rubbing her face tiredly. 'The seventh episode,' he said, unconsciously tense. 'oh ok' came from her, benignly ignorant. 'What's the name of the episode, I'm just too tired to remember which one the last one left off at,' she said, pouring herself a sip of the wine on the table.

'The Wedding Night...' She choked and coughed for a moment. Now it dawned on her. It was that episode. She remembered all the scenes on set too well.

'Are you ok?' he asked without making any facial expressions. 'Yes... I'm sorry,' she apologised and put her glass down again for safety reasons. 'But we're going to need more wine,' she said with amusement and her grin was almost unpleasant. The mood was strange. He scrutinised her carefully while she just stared at the wine, motionless and thoughtful.

She looked slowly at him, his gaze still fixed on her. You would have thought he was burning every corner of her face. It made her nervous, but not in an unpleasant way. She felt the heat in her cheeks and stood up abruptly. 'I think I've spilt...I'll be right back' she disappeared into the bathroom in a flash. She was aware of what was happening, or so she thought, but she was still unsure. He was and is her co-partner. What would the media say, Starz or everyone involved in the big picture? She didn't realise she was breathing faster.

'Cait, are you all right?' he asked anxiously from behind the door. 'Y..yes...I'll be right back.' She splashed water on her face and then came out again. 'And you're sure we should sleep in the same bed?' he asked with raised eyebrows, almost admonishingly. 'That's fine, it's ok,' she said dryly and gave him a cheeky look. She stood in front of him. He was so tall that she always had to look up at him. 'But only if you change too...I doubt you want to sleep in those jeans...you already hated them on set' she looked at him challengingly and tugged at his collar. He enjoyed her closeness. It was clear that he had had feelings for her for some time. It was impossible not to, given the sight of her and her wonderful character. But whether she would ever be serious about him was an open question. He doesn't push her, gives her room to manoeuvre and is patient. Like a crocodile patiently waiting to snatch its prey.

He gave her a charming smile and went to his wardrobe, took out more comfortable clothes and looked at her briefly. She sat down on the couch and unconsciously inspected him as he disappeared into the bathroom. He didn't miss her gaze and when he came out again, he saw her sitting on the couch with her head resting on her hand. She grinned at him. 'Do you want to watch something or are you too tired and want to go to sleep?' he asked solidly, closing the curtains. He turned round and noticed that she already had jumped into bed. She snuggled into the big duvet. He laughed briefly and shook his head playfully. 'well...I take it you've had a full day today...want to talk?' he came round and lay down in bed too. They both looked at each other, snuggled together under a blanket, she was quiet for a moment and had to look at him. It's a completely different feeling alone without people from the set. Far away from all the other trailers, other people or cameras. There was no one here. The thought of it made her heart beat gently faster and she almost forgot to speak, let alone breathe, at the sight of him.

'Yeah...I had a call today and two other annoying appointments before that. I've been travelling all day...then there's the rain...I'm honestly glad to be with you right now' the last words came out of her innocently and unusually meekly. She is usually the type of person who says what she thinks, with consideration for the feelings of others. But it's easier with him. She can be whatever she wants, let herself go with him. He listened to her quietly and attentively.

'Sam... what is it between us?' She looked him in the eye and tried to understand the moment. He brushed a strand of hair out of her face with a wave of his hand, ignoring his own pounding heart. 'We're just lying here talking,' he replied briefly in a low voice. Jesus, can't he stop being cute for once? Struggling to concentrate from his voice and the sight of him, Cait swallowed with difficulty, unable to find an answer.

It was so quiet. Neither of them said anything. Her breathing was much faster and without thinking she snuggled up to him, hiding her face in his chest to hide her burning cheeks. She could hear his heart beating softly and realised that it was also much faster. Sam took her carefully in his arms and decided to remain silent for the time being, to savour the moment. He could smell her hair and buried his face in it a little, kissing it and noticed her smile. He did the same and had to smile. As always, no one needs to say anything to understand.

The sun's warm rays tickled Cait's cheeks and she moved slowly. A large, warm body lay close to her. You really don't need a heater when you're lying next to this 1.92m tall man. She grinned happily as she realised who it was. He was still asleep. She took this moment to observe his sleeping form. He looked so content and balanced, still holding her tightly in his arms.

His calm breathing was soothing, like a lullaby. It was nothing new, sleeping with him, hearing his breathing, feeling him against her, his embrace and yet this time it was completely different. She felt a tingling in her stomach at the mere thought of wanting to touch him. It made her nervous and she suddenly looked away from him only to look back at him again. Her gaze kept switching between his lips and the air she was trying to stare into. No Cait...you better not. Once you start, it will end badly... she thought to herself and thought back to their time on set. They often kissed away from the camera. Out of spontaneous situations to practise, of course...right? The heat rose in her face again. She tried to control her thoughts, but her heart was making it damn hard. She didn't even realise that she had come closer to him, her face close to his, her breathing as if she were climbing a mountain that was out of reach. However, with an unmistakable sound in her voice, she freed herself from his grip in a flash and sat down on the edge of the bed.

Without realising it, she was sweating. She clutched her forehead and tried to get her breathing under control. Damn Balfe, a little more self-control! Her thoughts were waging a war she was in danger of losing. He opened one eye and watched her actions. She flinched slightly as he began to stretch and looked slightly to the side in his direction. He couldn't help but grin self-consciously. She was so cute. He didn't know her to be that shy or insecure. On set, they could both let Jamie and Claire hang out, kiss or touch each other however they wanted. Nobody would have thought it was anything serious, at least that's what they both thought.

She stood up abruptly and looked nervously at him. 'I'm going to freshen up,' she said briefly and Sam let himself fall into his pillow with a smile. He wanted the time to last. To savour this precious moment, just with her...just with Cait.

He made breakfast and the rest of the day was relaxed. Except for a few little things Sam had to do this time, the day was uneventful. Cait spent the time in his room and fell asleep on his couch once again. She was far too tired from the last few days, not to mention the previous night. Snuggled up with one of Sam's woollen blankets, she slept peacefully. The blanket smelled wonderfully of him and transported her to dreamland far too quickly. When the Scotsman returned later that day, he saw her curled up on the couch. Still asleep. He put the key away and took off his shoes to go to her. With quiet steps, he stood next to her and looked at her without a word. She looked so innocent. He often did, watching her sleep. Her soft purring when she slept. Her soft smile when he always secretly snuggled up to her, just to be close to her unnoticed. He loved it.

Sam simply stood still for another moment and looked down at her thoughtfully, bent down and got very close to her face. He could feel her breath on him. The corner of his mouth twitched impatiently and he gave her a delicate kiss on her soft lips. His heart did what it wanted and almost ran away from him, but he didn't care. The kiss was short and so gentle that Cait didn't wake up, at least that's what he thought and realised he was wrong. The ball of blanket and the supposed Mrs Fraser inside it moved gently. She opened her eyes just a crack to somehow recognise what in God's name was happening. Sam was already scurrying about, unpacking a few things he'd been shopping for. There were a few bottles of wine and something to nibble on.

She sat up in a daze, her hair in a wild mess and yawned tiredly. 'What time is it?' she asked with a husky voice. 'It's already 7 pm. How long have you been asleep?' He brought two bottles of wine to the table and two glasses. 'Too long... Well, I don't think I'll fall asleep that quickly watching TV,' she said with amusement and ran her hands through her hair to fix it a little. 'Are you hungry?' he asked, unpacking a bag at the same time. It was Asian Food. 'Yes,' she replied curtly and watched the Scotsman without realising it. Her gaze was dreamy, as if she was looking at the jackpot she had won. He came over to her and set her something to eat. She had to smile. Of course he knew exactly what her favourite food was. 'Thank you,' she said and they both ate some of the food.

'Do you remember filming the episode?' he asked when he had finished eating.

'Yes, quite a lot. I'm curious how it was edited. Some days were so long and tiring,' she took a breath and looked at him. 'It was sometimes very difficult to stay relaxed and yet... You made it easy for me to shoot the more difficult scenes,' he said with a smile and looked at her in detail. She couldn't avoid his gaze and was caught up in it. She quickly picked up her wine glass and took a good sip.

Cait laughed softly as she remembered. 'Did you remember the scene when Claire said "go to bed"? God, how many times we replayed that just because our producer never liked the look in your eyes and then I said "to fuck" off camera, or so I thought? Your look afterwards was exactly what they wanted to see and it was recorded,' she laughed and took another sip. Sam did the same and poured the red wine down his throat. 'How could I forget?' his voice sounded ironic with an amused undertone. 'At least it wasn't too cold when we were naked for what felt like 24 hours,' he said and poured more wine.

She looked silently into her wine glass after his words, then raised her eyes and literally stared at him. He's like an accident... you don't want to look but you can't help but stare at him with curiosity and anticipation. Too mesmerised by his gaze, she once again couldn't get a word out. He could throw a bone now and she would run after it like a dog. He raised an eyebrow questioningly. 'The episode is about to start,' he breathed so quietly that she had to think for a moment whether she had heard him correctly.

Sam came closer to her, looked deep into her eyes and was tired of seeing her like this. She was literally begging to be touched. The Scotsman didn't hesitate a second longer and kissed her gently yet firmly. Cait was briefly surprised and yet she accepted the kiss without hesitation. As if they had kissed hundreds of times before, he brought her to him by taking her face in his hand. He stroked her cheek tenderly and was the first to break the kiss. Cait just looked at him. She could have sworn her heart was stuck one floor below. He smiled at her and she did the same, returning his smile with a blissful grin. He took the remote control without another word.

The atmosphere was strangely relaxed, but you could just feel the crackle. He switched on the TV and the episode started. She looked over at him expectantly, so he couldn't help but lean over and grab her, cuddling her right next to him against his chest. Cait took a contented breath and drank more of the wine as she savoured his closeness and warmth.

They both made comments here and there and had to laugh and shake their heads when Rupert and Angus burst in. 'I remember one of them fell badly once,' Sam laughed and they both grinned. Then came the scene where Claire asks Jamie to bed. Both the Scot and the Irishwoman watched the scene tensely and had to smile again and again. 'How many times we had to repeat that...but you did a good job,' she said contentedly to distract them from what was actually happening. Jamie grabbed Claire's breast. 'Christ, how many times you made me laugh, Cait...you kept making jokes about my breasts,' Sam said with amusement and Cait turned bright red. 'Well I was nervous as hell...we had to take our clothes off...I was afraid I'd ruin your view of naked women' she said sheepishly and he took her chin and forced her to look at him.

'my god Cait...how can you say that...' he whispered more and she looked at him nervously and slightly guiltily. Before she could say anything, Sam beat her to it. 'Your body is beautiful.' She stared at him and their gazes parted as the scene came where Jamie plopped on top of her and penetrated her. The situation couldn't have been stranger. It was weird for both of them to see each other like this. It looked a thousand times hotter on the screen than when they were both shooting that scene over and over again.

Sam grinned at Claire's sweet words when she said she gets crushed by Jamie. He noticed Cait's tension, she squeezed her legs tightly together and banished all her thoughts to the farthest corner of her brain cells. To no avail. Sam looked down at her and took the wine glass from her hand. How much had they actually had now? Both bottles of wine were empty.

Cait looked at him questioningly, but she knew the answer. Sam slowly stroked her legs and hesitantly approached her face. Her breathing increased, her lower lip quivering in response to his touch. She closed the gap and kissed him. But this time more demanding and with far less restraint. Gripped by what was on the television, Cait pressed herself closer to him and without thinking about it, she sat on his lap. He gasped briefly under the stormy kisses only to continue on her neck. She let out a sigh. A soft, pleasurable sound that he knew all too well. It had almost always driven him crazy when they gave their all during filming and he wasn't allowed to have her completely. Shooting a scene is one thing. Shooting naked is something else, but constantly filming wild sex scenes in the nude with such a beautiful woman is simply torture. With her playful but otherwise confident character, he would have liked to show how much he really liked her. He constantly had to touch her. On her breasts, her body and getting closer to areas with his face that made him want to seriously give up control of himself.

Meanwhile, no matter what was on the television, she only had eyes for her Scotsman. She looked at him dreamily, losing herself in his gaze. Everything about him is so attractive. His hair, which she now clung to in order not to lose her mind. His upper body, his beard and God damn his face, with his ice-cold blue eyes that almost robbed her of her will. She unconsciously moved onto his lap when she realised that he was already more than ready for action. Now she smirked cheekily at him, causing him to bite his lower lip. 'You little beast....now you're showing your true colours,' he said almost choking and his gaze didn't leave hers for a second. Somehow they knew it, but it was different here too. He took off her hoodie and just looked at her for a moment. As if he couldn't believe what he saw, he grabbed her breasts as if he wanted to make sure they were the same as usual. He kissed one of them gently and played around with the other.

She leant her head back with pleasure and let him do his thing. 'Sam....' she breathed and looked at him, slightly dazed. 'You too....' she whispered excitedly and took off his shirt too. She looked at him with red cheeks. It didn't matter whether it was the alcohol or Sam's fault. No matter who she drank from, she would be intoxicated by both. She touched him on the shoulder and ran her fingers down his neck to the area below his belly button, from which a few hairs flashed out. Sam's eyes were fixed on Cait with an expression as if she were made of glyphs and he was trying to decipher them.

She grabbed his belt with her hand and tried to open it, but this turned out to be difficult when sitting. He grabbed her ass and literally threw her on the couch, took off his pants only to stand completely naked in front of her. Her gaze was discreetly surprised and looked at his best piece. She was not prepared for that now. They always wore protection on set, which didn't help much when Sam had a hard-on, but it covered everything. She swallowed and for a second a shy shadow could be seen in her eyes. "We want to stay fair, my dear," he pointed to her pants and came closer to her playfully. She looked at him nervously and had to smile to cover up her nervousness.

"Do you want to continue?" he asked as a precaution and in answer she nodded and looked at him with a cheeky, innocent face. He grinned confidently and helped her undress. There she was, completely exposed with a red glow on her cheeks. They had both played through this position so many times before, but this one moment now belonged to the two of them alone.

He grabbed her by the hand to pull her up to him. Cait stood directly in front of him and looked him in the eye anything but uncertainly. She literally felt his heartbeat, as if the two were synchronously forming a unit. She took his hands and intertwined her fingers in his. "Caitriona you are so beautiful" proudly sounded in his voice and she smiled happily at him. "Just you and me" she whispered lovingly, looked at him longingly and Sam couldn't ask any more questions, because she had just answered them.

He kissed her, longing and greedy, clawed at her ass to lift her up and faltered briefly. There was no cut, nothing that interrupted them despite the swaying and could stop the lust of both. He let himself fall back a little on the couch, with her on his lap, without even thinking about breaking the kiss.

Now nothing went according to the script. He was the director of this scene and decided how to proceed in accordance with his Irish beauty. She enjoyed every touch, every second and breathed heavier as he caressed her breasts. Cait became more impatient and looked at him almost begging. He grabbed her ass again to lift her and positioned her so that Sam could penetrate her without any problems. He smiled... She was more than ready. A groan on her part indicated that the tackle would continue as he was into her completely. The Hugh Scot didn't want to slow down, not to be careful that something unexpected happened.

Cait moved and he adjusted to her. This time he couldn't help but moan quietly. She rested her forehead on his and continued moving. Regardless of the hotel neighbors, neither of them cared how loud they were.

He had to smile at the sight of her. She moaned subtly differently than when they were filming. It sounded the same as always, but there was a hint of honesty in the sound of her lovely voice. The sound that makes his bones tremble and underlines the pleasure he is really giving her. Flowing through the alcohol and the rush of adrenaline that they both experience and that made them both sweat, he felt how aroused she already was. He concentrated on her to give her the moment of happiness, but had great difficulty enduring it, especially with her moaning. She really deeply enjoying it.

'Sam...' damn it, he tried so hard not to lose control, but moaning his name like that almost pushed him over the edge. He gasped heavily and bit her shoulder. Finally, she felt a wave rushing deep inside her and completely flooding her. She moaned louder and let him feel how much he loved her without ever having said it.

'Sassenach!' He gasped at the same time as her and let himself fall completely as he came inside her, clawing a little too hard at her round ass. She sank exhausted onto his shoulder and gasped for air. Completely out of breath, both of them tried to understand the situation they were in.

'Everything ok...Mo Chridhe?' He hesitated at first, but he had to say it. He loved her and had no doubt that this would ever change. She was too perfect, her temperament, her way of dealing with him and her laugh. God, how much he loved her laugh. The Scotsman lovingly wrapped the wool blanket around her and let her get some air, but it was starting to make him nervous because she was still hiding into his chest. 'Is everything ok, Cait?' he asked nervously. She turned her head so that her face was directed towards the crook of his neck and he could feel her breath. He got goosebumps.

'I love you...' she whispered softly to him. Three words that could throw him off balance and almost made his heart stop. A smile twitched across his lips. 'I love you too... Sassenach...' he said lovingly and playfully and felt her smile. 'What do we tell the producers?" she asked, quite worried. 'Nothing at first. It will be difficult to hide it... at least partially. Maybe they'll let us do it and accept the unspoken facts. Filming should be easier for both of us,' he tried to explain and stroked her back. Suddenly he looked at her with a Jamie expression, as if he had traveled through time in just a second. 'Could you now...' he paused briefly.

'What?' now she looked at him confused. 'I mean we didn't use protection...' he got nervous and the Irish woman had to giggle. 'No...that's out of the question, don't worry' she said. He smiled in relief. 'We missed half the episode,' he said and she snuggled up next to him. 'It doesn't matter...we'll watch it again then" she said with a cheeky undertone and he kissed her extensively.

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taffycandyqt · 1 year ago

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hey so how badly do you think the rottmnt boys would be easily persuaded into things by their s/o? Who has self control and who throws caution to the wind for their s/o? Like their s/o is not manipulating or anything. Just like “No! I’m not joining”. “*genuine sad understanding doe eyes* If you’re sure, I wanted you to be the one to come with me though since I love you so much and I’d feel better with you there, but if you’re uncomfortable, it’s ok” if their boyfriend changes their mind, s/o is confused at the sudden change but look ecstatic? Or like they make their boyfriend angry and s/o is like “I did that? I’m sorry. I didn’t realise *genuine sad doe eyes. Makes it very hard to stay mad at*”?

Honestly, the rise boys are all so hungry for affection in their own ways. I feel like they are all pretty weak to their sweet little s/o. Also the one shots aren't exactly the best example of the headcannons but I was STRUGGLING so this is the best I got.

Weak in the Knees

Rise turtles (separately) x reader

How easily can you persuade them using your irresistible charm??

Warnings: Mentions of shooting as a hyperbole to emphasize a point. Not explicit. No deaths. Only in Donnies. Angst? ends happy so its fine

Established relationship

Fluff, crack

Donnie:

We all know Donnie is a sucker for praise.

You ask him to do something stupid or dangerous with you it will be a no.

You want him to step away from his work for a break? absolutely not.

You want him to accompany you to Witch town. ARE YOU CRAZY?

Buuuuuut. If you just so happen to have thrown out a couple compliments his way beforehand.

It will almost immediately be a yes or a "Sigh! I suppose!"

Let's be honest here too, there is a lot to compliment Donnie on.

You praise him for his work, a gift he gave you, helping you, or for literally anything he is already wrapped around your finger.

But if you praise him and then add a little kiss on the cheek or hand. Maybe a small hug?

He would literally let you shoot him if that's what you wanted.

Bro is so in love with you it's not even funny.

Not to say he doesn't draw the line somewhere. No bees. No spiders. And NO BEACH BALLS.

Oh and nothing that could phically harm you in any way.

He ain't about to let you get hurt on his watch.

It doesn't matter how many times you call him the most handsomest genius boy and kiss his nose, you are not diving off the empire state building for him to catch you mid air.

"Donnnnnnnniiieeeeeee!" you slumped towards him as you drew out his name. After you got to him you rested your head on his battle shell. Your hands were positioned on either side of your head laying flat on his shell as well.

"Yes my dear?" He chirped. He wasn't very good at initiating physical touch. Don't get me wrong, he tried, he just let his Donnie overthink get the best of him more often then not. So when you initiated, it was very welcome.

"I looooove youuu." You answered him, "your the sweetest boy I've ever met, did you know that?"

This got Donnie to set his tools down real quick. You always liked to compliment him at random times. At first he thought there was a reason behind it. You wanted something, you wanted to get away with something, you wanted him to forgive you, ect. But no matter how many times he conducted the experiment. No matter the duration of time it took. The results were always purely random. You did it simply because you wanted to tell him how much he meant to you.

And honestly, it was his favorite thing in the world. The only problem was that it would always catch him off guard. There was no consistency to your charming onslaught so it was always left as a surprise till the very last minute. His face burned red as he proceeded to just stare at his work, trying to look like he's trying to figure something out.

"I'm not sure. You say I'm a lot of things," he tried to keep his voice even as he spoke to you.

"Well it's true! Your the sweetest, smartest, and most perfect boyfriend ever and your my absolute favorite."

At this point Donnie was trying to hard not to happy stim. Not because he's not comfortable stimming around you, infact he does it all the time. The thing is, even after all this time he still wanted come off as a cool, emotionally unavailable bad boy. What he conveniently doesn't remember is that he's already willing done things that counter that image. You don't need to tell him that though.

"Thank you dear. You're quite lovely yourself," he told you. He folded his arms and sat stiffly trying to keep his stimming under control, eventually opting for some speedy finger tapping.

"Awwwwwww, thank you my love!!" you said as you finally lifted your head off his back to lean over and kiss his cheek.

This caused him to jerk in his chair and mess with the weight distribution resulting in him tipping and falling right on the floor. Instinctively he reached for the table in an attempt to break his fall. Unfortunately, he ended up grabbing his current project instead. As Donnie fell a component of his invention was ripped from it's position and landed on the floor beside him.

"Oh mi gosh! Are you okay?!" you rushed to Donnie's aid and helped him off the floor.

"I'm alright, thank you," he smiled at you softly and went to pick up his chair.

"I was just caught off guard is all," he told you, but as he bends down to grab the chair he noticed the crucial piece of his latest invention laying off to the side of it.

"GASP! Nonononono!" he picked up the piece and scrambled to his work desk to inspect the damage.

"Nooo!!" He wined in frustration. He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index as he tried to calm himself down.

"Donnie? What's wrong?" You asked as you inched your way to his side.

"THIS!" he exclaimed shoving the broken piece in your direction before dropping his arm and turning away from his project to pace around the room.

"I'VE BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR WEEKS AND NOW I HAVE TO BACKTRACK AND REDO DAYS OF WORK! ALL BECAUSE YOU-" he stopped talking immediately when he say your face. He had originally turned to look back at you in order to emphasize his frustration. Seeing the look on your face though, made him instantly regret letting his frustration get the better of him.

"I- I'm sorry. I- didn't mean for that... I just wanted to... um..." you were on the verge of tears and couldn't think of anything to say that would fix the issue. So you just clasped your hands together and looked to the floor.

"I'm sorry," is what you eventually settled on.

"No! no, I'm sorry," Donnie told you as he approached and grabbed your shoulder while placing the other in his chest. He leaned his head down in an attempt to catch your eye as you kept your eyes locked on the ground.

"I shouldn't have yelled like that, and besides it wasn't your fault anyways. I was the one being careless in the first place." He eventually placed his and on your other shoulder and leaned down more, practically begging for you to look at him. When you did, your eyes were big and glossy with tears that streaked on your cheeks.

"I shouldn't have distracted you," your responded and you looked back to the floor.

"No, hey, your not a distraction," he told you in a gentle voice. He stood up straight and pulled you into a firm hug, burying his snout in your hair.

"Your the best thing that happened to me. Your never a distraction," he was really hoping this got through to you.

"Really?" You sniffed.

"Really really. Two reallys," he told you. With that you adjusted to wrap your arms around him and then lay you chin in his plastron.

"Do you think ice cream would make you feel better?" you asked.

"Me feel better?" he questioned. You were the hurt one, you were the one crying. Why were you concerned about his feelings?

"Even if you think it's not my fault, no doubt you're still upset with the amount of work you have to redo," you explained, "and ice cream always makes me feel better. So would ice cream make you feel better?"

He gave you a small laugh and traded the hug to hold your hand.

"Firstly, it's not your fault," he spoke matter-a-factly while waving his other hand around dramatically, "And secondly, ice cream sounds delightful."

So with that you both made your way to the kitchen. Donnie ended up not eating any ice cream at all and instead opted for flavorless juice. He was happy enough watching you eat your ice cream with a big smile plastered on your face.

Did he have a lot of work to redo? Yes. But as long as your there it might not feel as long. He might have to make a 'no flattery while one is working in the lab' rule though. For safety.

Leo:

Remember how Donnie had a line? Yeah, no Leo doesn't have that.

Due to this, and his already mischievous nature, you can already get him to do pretty much anything just by asking.

However he does have a responsible mood. If he's in that mood nothing will work.

you know what I mean. Like how he acts in the movie while their driving in the turtle tank?

like that, just without the internal and external issues clouding his judgment.

It's s not a bad mood, it's just not good for getting what you want.

Lucky for you he's not usually in that mood, and if he is it's usually not so bad that you can't bring I'm out of it.

That being said Leo, like the rest of his brothers, needs praise so badly that it's kinda sad.

Any praise will work but if you want him to do something absolutely idiotic to the point that even he thinks so? Your gonna need to make him feel ✨special✨

Your gonna need to pull out the my man, my champion, special man, and perfect baby.

Names like that, that make him feel like a million bucks.

If he's showing off to you, one compliment will butter that sucker up like you wouldn't believe.

He would literally do anything for you, it's not even funny, bro has no standards.

"Y/n! Hey! Hey! Y/n look! Look at this sick trick!" Leo called to you from atop their indoor skating ramp. You were on the floor below talking with April while Leo skated.

"Okay sweets I'm watching!" You call back to give him the go ahead.

With that Leo was off down the ramp. As he came up the other side and was propelled in the air he flipped the skateboard from beneath him and then landed perfectly on top as gravity pulled them back to the surface. When he came back up the other side Leo jumped off the board and looked down at you with a big grin on his face.

You and April clapped and he came down to meet you.

"What did you think??"

"I think that was awesome. Your my talented man for sure," you told him sweetly as you kissed him on the cheek. Leo blushed slightly at this before puffing his chest out and holding his skateboard all cool guy like at his hip. He used his other hand to point at himself with his thumb.

"Well not everyone can be as skilled as ah-THIS!" He boasted while punctuating his sentence with a dab.

"Okay, Mr. Talented," April teased, "If your done I'd like to tell you the reason I stopped by today."

"What?" Leo said with fake shock, "You visited for a different reason other than admiring my rad skills?"

"Impossible I know," she snarked to play along with him.

"So what's up April?" You asked.

"I was working my new job as a part time graveyard day guard and I saw this totally creepy and totally abandoned house right outside my post!"

"April if you're about to tell us you saw a ghost," Leo told her.

"No! But I DID want to find out if there COULD be ghosts in there."

"Why are you telling us this?" You ask.

"Because, I'm not gonna trespass on abandoned property by myself. That's just asking to be kidnapped," she answered while folding her arms.

"I don't know April, I better stay here and keep practicing my skating skillzz, right y/n?" Leo said.

"Well I think it sounds cool April! I'd be so down to go with you!"

"Heck yeah! Girls trip!"

You two high fived and right as you hands made contact Leo popped up in-between the both of you and clasped yours and April's hands together with his own.

"Though I suppose it would be unbecoming of me to not do my chivalrous duty to you both and tag along as a safety precaution."

April looked unimpressed at Leo's forced attempt to be cool in front of you whilst also begging for your attention. As you and April let your hands down Leo's went with them and you took his empty palm in yours shooting him a soft smile.

"So what time did you have in mind?"

"Oh, I was thinking like right now if y'all aren't busy," April told you.

"Sounds good to me, come on Leon!" You said as you dragged Leo to the Lair exit.

Apon getting to the building it was abundantly clear that it was very abandoned and very illegal to trespass. A rusted chain link fence surrounded the building with warning signs plastered all around it. Though, it was to dark to clearly read them without a flashlight.

"Uhh, guys?" Leo started, "Are you sure we should go in there? There are way too many signs around this place for them all to be just 'no trespassing' signs,"

"Do I hear someone who is scaaaaared?" Teased April. This prompted an offended gasp from Leo who put a hand to his chest.

"SCARED?! HA! I'll show you who's scared," he snarked at her before opening a portal to bypass the fence straight to the front door. He gestures for you and April to enter first. Before you followed April in you turned to Leo.

"Everything will be fine, and if something does go wrong I know you could bail us out," you smiled sweetly at him and then stepped into the portal. Leo straightened up and blushed, then sauntered confidently through the portal after you. It felt good to know you trusted him so much.

As all three of you stood at the front door you heard the sounds of the house creaking on the inside. The old wood constantly fighting to stay upright. April pushed open the door with a loud creak and shinned her light into the entry. It was dark and messy. A brownish carpet greeted you along with a broken sidebar cabinet. stairs leading up to the second floor were covered in dirt and old enough to be one big splinter. Next to the stairs was an entrance to a different room. There were also different rooms on either side of you as well. As you all shines your lights to get a better look you could see the dust particles littering the air.

"I'm gonna go investigate upstairs!" April told you before disappearing to the second floor. Leo had gravitates towards the right side entryway before turning to you and gesturing for you to follow him.

"I think this is the kitchen," he said, turning his head back. You filled him as you both inspected the room. You broke looked around and noticed some light scratching sounds coming from what you assumed to be the pantry. As you opened the door the smell of rotten food and crap hit your face and you immediately gagged. You plugged your nose with your hand and you used the other to direct the flashlight. You didn't look around for long though as you saw a small, fast moving figure rush past your foot. You let out a short yelp as you stumbled backwards and out of the pantry slamming the door shut.

In an instant Leo was by your side.

"What?! What happened?! Are you okay?!" he gave you a once over looking for any injuries you could have procured.

"Yes! Yes," you sighed out patting his shoulder, "I'm okay, just a... rat. Or something,"

"Okay. Umm, just stick close to me for now ok?" He asked you. He was clearly a little nervous, about what exactly though you couldn't say. He grabbed your hand as you both made your way out of the kitchen.

"You've been hearing those sounds too right?" He asks as he turns to you. You both stop under the archway separating the kitchen and the entryway.

"W- what sounds?" This was, admittedly, making you a little nervous yourself now.

"The scratching. Like something's in the walls," he said in a hushed voice as he squoze your hand. You didn't at first but as you sat and listened, sure enough. Scratching. Or... Scurrying? It wasn't consistent but it happened often enough.

"Yeah," you answered in the same muted tone.

"I think we should leave," Leo told you, "Whatever this houses issue is it's not gonna be ours. Let's grab April and VAMINOS."

Before you two could take more that a stepp up the stairs you hear a loud crash and the house starts to rumble. April begins to scream and you can hear her rushed footsteps against the floor and as you both try to find her you ended meeting her at the top of the stairs.

"RUUUUN!! GO GO GO!" she yelled at you. She pushed you both aside and grabbed Leo by his mask tails to pull him along. Before you two started running though, you see what April was running from. I giant hord of mutant silverfish. They took up the entire hallway from floor to ceiling and they did NOT look happy.

As Leo was being tugged along by April you were tugged by Leo who still hadn't let go of your hand. In trying to position his body to run forward easier and April still holding on to his mask tails, it ended up turning his mask on backwards and obscuring his view. As all three of you exited the house Leo tripped out the door on top of April causing you to fall on top of him.

"LEO PORTAL! PORTAL NOW!" April yelled at him.

"I CAN'T FIND MY SWORD!" he told her frantically trying to fix his mask so he could see.

"HERE TAKE IT!" you said handing it to him. The silver fish where almost in top of you by the time Leo took the sword in his hands. With a swift swing of his sword the portal was opened and all three of you stumbled through it closing right as the silverfish burst out the door.

All three of you lay on the ground between where the two skate ramps met, panting and trying to gather yourselves.

"Everyone okay?" April asked out of breath.

"Yeah," you breathed out.

"All good here," Leo puffed.

"Great..." April sat up sluggishly, "I'm gonna head out then, see ya."

And with that she stood up and left the lair. You both waved her off best you could from the ground. You both just laid there for a while catching your breaths.

"Let's never do that again," Leo said after a while.

"I don't know, I kinda had fun," you told him.

"You have got to be kidding me," he looked over at you unimpressed.

"Ya know... I saw this abandoned processing plant a couple days ago," you said turning your head to look back at him.

"Y/n. We almost died."

"And now we know to be prepared for hords of mutant silverfish," you looked at him, "Please?"

"Uuugggg. FINE. But not for a while, I need a break from whatever the heck today was," he told you.

"Sounds good to me!" You chirped and cuddled into his side.

"Yeah yeah," he playfully rolled his eyes and wrapped a lazy arm around you.

Mikey:

Oh he is just the sweetest little buttercup to you.<3

Surprisingly though, he also is the hardest to persuade.

I mean come on, doctor delicate touch loves you but he will be quick to tell you why a certain idea is....... not so great.

That being said if you get really sad about him saying no he will do everything in his power to make you happy.

He'll make your favorite food, watch your favorite movie, play your favorite game, whatever you want that isn't the first thing that you wanted.

Out of all brothers, Mikey is the one who need praise at the most normal amount.

You guys will probably have compliment competitions while cuddling.

So safe to say praise isn't going to get this dude to do stuff for you.

However, Mikey is able to see how his brothers feel like they can't fully express their feelings and wants them to feel safe enough to do so.

Frankly he wants everyone to feel comfortable enough around him to express their true thoughts and feelings.

So if you are the kind of person to emotionally shut down or pretend like everything is fine when it's not?

He will be a bit more willing to do stuff for you.

Again, there is a line. A straight cut no exceptions line.

Buuuuuut he might be willing to find a couple loop holes just so that his darling can feel better.

Piece of advice tho, don't push it. If he feels like you don't respect his boundaries that's gonna be a whole other issue.

"Hey Mikey!" you chirp as you enter his room, "What'ca up to?"

Mikey looked up at you from the floor, you could see the canvas in front of him and got increasingly excited to see what he was putting together.

"Oh just paintin', like one does," he tells you with a cheeky smile.

"Okaaaaay," you smile back, playing along, "What'ca paintin'?"

At this Mikey looked to his right and then his left, like he was scoping out the area for spies. Except it made less sense since it was his room. Then he looked back up at you and gestured for you to come join him with his hand.

You sat down on the floor and cozied up next to your boyfriend to which he revealed his masterpiece. It was a family portrait of Splinter and his brothers from when they were younger.

"We took this picture a couple years back," he handed you a small photo, "it was always dads favorite so I'm painting it for his birthday!"

"That's so sweet Mikey!"

He smiled and blushed at the compliment. You turned back to the painting. It was beautiful. It was the same picture but Mikey had taken some creative liberties with the colors. They were bright, vibrant, and harmonious. The painting felt like it was buzzing with energy because of it. It felt warm and inviting and at the same time unpredictable. The way the lines, colors, and textures went together, it almost made the painting feel alive, and it was hypnotizing.

"It looks like you've finished, right?" you ask, turning back to him.

"Almost!" He perks, "I just have to add a few finishing touches and it will be done!"

"Weeeeeeelllll," you said mischievously, "Since they're just finishing touches, maybe I could help."

One of the first things that people find out when they meet you is that you suck butt at art. When you met Mikey he tried SO HARD to teach you but no matter how hard you tried it just never clicked. You always saw it as a cute 'opposites attract' sort of thing honestly. The proficient artist and the one who couldn't draw a dot right it they tried. How romantic.

So when your little tease entered the space Mikey knew exactly what you were trying to do.

"Oh no no no my dear," he played along, "You see, I feel your artistic talents are needed else where."

"Else where?" you questioned with big doe eyes feigning innocence.

"Yes. Else where," he told you again, still with his playful expression.

"You mean," you picked up one of his used paint brushes, "HERE! you said as you lunged forward attempting to pin him down in order to paint his face. Attempting.

"NO NOT HERE!" he giggled trying to keep the paint brush from making contact with his face. He had been mostly successful but you still managed to land a couple good swipes.

You both continued to wrestle and giggle as time went on. At one point Mikey flipped you both so he was the one pinning you and reached for a paint brush of his own. You managed to wiggle free in the nick of time and this led to you both running around his room with paint brushes in hand. Every now and again one of you would corner the other, but the other would always manage to escape leading to the chase once again. At one point you realized that you might be able to catch Mikey off guard. You see, outside of cornering each other, all you guy have really done is chase the other and try catch them.

So in a moment of what you deemed to be 'brilliance' you took an abrupt stop and made a sharp turn on your heel to face him. However, that resulted in Mikey crashing right into you and you both falling straight to the floor.

"OH ME GOSH! Are you okay y/n?!" he scrambled to get off you quickly and inspect any possible damage to your person.

"Yeah, I'm okay, I think. Just landed on something hard," you told him as you picked yourself up.

When you looked back at him there was an expression on his face that could only be described as soul crushing horror. You were so confused, and concerned until you followed his line of sight and saw exactly what you landed on.

His painting.

His super sentimental and lovingly handcrafted painting meant as a GIFT FOR HIS FATHER. and now, there was a hole straight through it. Not a small one at that. Not to mention some of the paint was still wet and had gotten smeared and smushed at the impact. There was absolutely no salvaging this painting.

"Oh Mikey I am so sorry," you were horrified at what you had caused. Mikey didn't look at you, he didn't respond either. He walked towards to ruined canvas and slowly knelt down to pick it up.

"I- I didn't mean for this to happen Mikey I'm-" he cut you off.

"Can you please go? We'll talk later, I just need to be alone right now," still without looking at you. You were so heartbroken you had to hold in your tears.

"Okay," you told him in a shaky breath. You left the lair that night, and for the first time since you've known the guys, you left in a considerably worse mood then what you had when you got there.

The look on Mikey's face haunted you that night. You hate to think that you were the one to cause that pain. You were the one that hurt him. You wanted to make it up to him but you didn't know how. It's not like you could remake the painting for him. Heck you couldn't even paint!

You decided it would be best to stay away from the lair until Mikey invited you back. Fortunately for you, it only took about four days for that to happen. Unfortunately for however, it was through a very distressing text that read 'We should talk'. Eeeee 😬

Before you went you baked some cookies to hopefully help lighten the blow. You may not be able to... 'art'... BUT YOU COULD BAKE. When you met with Mikey it was in a secluded area of Todd's Puppy Land, or whatever its called.

"Hey y/n," he said giving you a weak smile and finally looking at you. He looked tired. Like he hadn't slept since you both last talked.

"Hey Mikey," you responded, "I uh. I brought cookies." You gave and awkward smile and his expression softened. He motioned for you to sit next to him on the bench. As you did you placed the cookies between you both as to give him some space.

He sighed, "I'm sorry y/n, I didn't mean-" you cut him off.

"YOUR SORRY?! WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO BE SORRY ABOUT?!" you were exasperated.

"Well I-"

"NO! I ruined your painting that took you forever to make that you made for your dads birthday! If anyone should be sorry it's me!"

"Thank you," he told you, "and I accept you apology, but it wasn't really your fault. It was an accident due to us both being reckless."

"But I started it!"

"And I didn't stop you, *sigh* listen. I didn't mean to scare you like I did. I just get very emotionally attached to my art so I was having a lot of feelings that day. I want to make it very clear that I don't want to break up with you and I'm not mad at you."

At this, you let out a sigh you didn't even know you were holding. When he looked back at you he was shocked. Your eyes were glassy with tears and your cheeks were red. You looked so sad. And so sorry. Oh, if he didn't already regret what he said to you that day he sure did now. How could he had asked you to leave?

"I still feel bad about it," you told him looking down at your hands. He moved the cookies behind him to close the gap between you both and pulled you into a hug.

"Hey, I get it. But if it makes you feel any better I was able to fix mistakes I made the first time and clean up areas I had previously messed up. On top of that I'm pretty close to being in the same spot with its progress that I was last time," he said, trying to console you. you pulled back to look at him.

"You mean you repainted it?"

"Well yeah. It's pops birthday gift, I had to," he smiled at you.

"Didn't that take you weeks to do?!"

"The first time yeah. But I kind couldn't sleep until I was back to were I was before sooo"

THATS WHY HE LOOKED SO TIRED! HE HASN'T SLEPT IN FOUR DAYS!

"Alright well someone's going to bed right now," you told him, picking up your cookies and dragging him by the wrist. He happily complied and followed you back to the lair. Not before thanking Todd for letting you guys use his space.

Overall, you both were just glad that everything was back to normal.

Raph:

Oh bb. He's so soft for you.

Bro will kiss the ground you walk on.

He's also the most responsible.

However most responsible does not mean least chaotic.

I mean the dude tries to lift a bus and ate a literal phone.

So honestly, I can see him being pretty open to a lot of stuff as long as your safety isn't jeopardized.

Notice how I said 'your safety'?

Yeah. Again, remember the bus incident? I refuse to believe that he wouldn't do something stupid for you as long as he's the only one with a possibility of getting hurt.

That being said, like Mikey he has a line. Unlike Mikey that line is drawn with chalk and is very easily swept away.

Now Raph does not like crossing this line. I mean who likes compromising their boundaries?

But he will do it.

Raph is very susceptible to peer pressure and if it's coming from you of all people? He'll do it.

He won't be happy about it after though.

Like he's happy your happy but he will being to feel like his feelings don't matter to you the same as yours matter to him.

So for the sake of this poor boy please don't press further if he said no the first time.

It makes him feel like a bad boyfriend. :(

You and Raph were cuddling on the couch watching Jupiter Jim movies. As per the usual when you both are bored and have nothing better to do. You were positioned on his lap knees pointing to the side so you could rest your head on his chest.

"Hey Raphy?" you said grabbing his attention.

"Yes?" he said looking down at you.

"You wanna crash a wedding?"

"What?!"

"Do you. Want to. Crash a wedding. ... With me."

"And why are we crashing a wedding?"

"Fun," you told him, "but also I'm bored."

He giggled at you. You were such a little cutie and he could never get over it.

"What would we be doing?"

"Oh ya know, dancing, eating the food, photo bombing. The ushe," you shoot him a cheeky smile.

"Okay, one question though," you nodded at him, "how are we gonna do that with... this whole situation," he told you gesturing to himself.

"Sweets, we're in New York. You put on a suit jacket and act like 'this whole situation' is normal, most people will chalk it up to eccentricity," you told him.

"You sure bout that?"

"I've never been so sure about anything in my entire life."

"Well I guess we have a wedding to prepare for," he said nuzzling his snout into your cheek.

"YESSSsssssssssss!!" you exclaimed.

---

After a quick social media search you found the perfect wedding to crash. You and Raphael dusted off your best wedding attire and set out on a mission to have a good time.

You guys had made it to the reception so you just walked in and pretended like you belonged there. Raph was obviously still a little worried about walking in full green skin and three fingered but you assured him it was fine. And you were kinda right. He definitely got weird looks but he tried his best to follow your advise and pretend like was nothing was wrong. So for a while now body bothered you guys.

"See? What did I tell you, no body even cares!" You smiled at him as you pulled him to the dance floor.

"Yeah, I guess," he told you a tad nervous. He smiled at you regardless and you're both began to dance.

It was a fun, up eat song so you and Raph jumped along in your own little world. Twisting, turning, and shimming to the beat, it felt like you both were walking on air.

After dancing for a couple of songs straight you guys decided to try some of the refreshments. You took some lemonade and the little cheesecake bits and found a vacant table. You both chatted about little things, telling jokes and having a good time.

Eventually someone from the party approached you. She was a skinny old woman. Not old enough to be grey haired and senile but just old enough that she had plenty of wrinkles.

"Excuse me, I don't believe we've met," she told you as she sat down her to you, "what are your names?"

"Oh, I'm y/n and this is Raph," you gestured to him and he gave a small wave.

"Well it's nice to meet you. I'm the brides aunt Tina."

"Well in that case, congrats! I'm sure your so happy for her!"

"I am, Oliver seems like such a a nice man. He treats Sara so well. On that note, who are you here for? The bride or the groom?"

Raph sweat dropped, he didn't like lying and it made him nervous that he might have to if you both wanted to stay.

"Oh we're not," you told her honestly. Raph was relieved for about half a second before he realized that now you guys might cause a whole other scene.

"I'm sorry, not what?"

"Here for either the bride or the groom. We don't know either of them, we were just bored and wanted to dance."

"Wh-," her face showed her absolute disbelief, "This is a family and friends even you can't just waltz in uninvited!"

"Well I mean. You can. We just did. Wether or not that's a respectful thing to do is an entirely different debate though."

Tina's face was starting to turn red.

"Well! I'm going to have to ask you both to leave!" she demanded raising her voice while she stood and pointed to the exit.

"Hey, what's going on Tia?" the bride asked putting a hand on her aunts sholder.

You leaned back in your chair resting your arm over the back of it while you took a swig of your water.

"These two hooligans weren't invited! They don't know anyone here!"

"Well that's hardly fair Tina, I thought we formed a connection over the last five minutes," you teased which prompted Raph to shoot you a disapproving look. Tina looked absolutely appalled by you attitude.

"What?" you questioned Raph with a giggle, "Come on this is kinda funny."

"Your making her upset!"

"Eh, she would have been upset anyways,"

"DONT IGNORE US GET OUT! SOMEONE CALL THE POLICE!" Tina was full on screaming now, which prompted Raph to shoot out of his chair. He apologized quickly and picked you up by your sides and ran you both out of the wedding.

"Awwwww I wanted to grab some more of those cheesecake bites before we dipped."

Raph shook his head and smiled.

"Your unbelievable."

565 notes · View notes

factual-fantasy · 19 days ago

Text

28 Asks! Thank you! :}} 🧚‍♀️

@chromchill @misscherrypie

Its been a bit stressful 😅 I've put lot of pressure on myself to get them done fast and make them look good. I'll be relieved for the short break when these last two slots are filled and done. After that I can slow down and complete a few transformers projects I have lined up :0

Thank you so much! :DD I've actually been thinking about giving the bots holoforms a lot lately. Like how Arcee has that human hologram on her back when she's in her alt mode. But make it more like steven universe gems where their holoforms are condensed light/energy and have mass to them.

I've been thinking of how they work and how the bots would get them to look like humans. If they scan cars to turn into them, surly they would scan a human to make their holoforms look like them, right? Buuuut then they'd be identical to the humans they scanned and that's identity theft...

I still have a lot of brainstorming to do <XD

🙏🙏Peace and kindness friend! ❤️

(Link in ask)

Oooooo he probably has.. :000 what an evil king...

@holly-opal-2

Right here bud! :D

So I've heard! :DD My main hope is that we get to see Papyrus and that he's ok :}}}

@neo-metalscottic (Wreck it Ralph fanart)

Thank you so much! I hope you have a good day as well! :DD

As for my requests, its going better than I thought but its still a bit stressful 😅 I cant help but feel the pressure of getting these pieces done in a timely manner and to make them look the very best I can make them. But I've been able to rake in some money thanks to all those kind folks! Which has been such a relief on depts and food. You guys are the best! 🫶❤️❤️❤️

And lastly, thank you!! :DD I'm glad you like how the piece came out! :DD Its been a long time since I watched the movie but I remember enjoying it. Although I don't think I understood King Candy's motives for making that one kid into a glitch..? Which made me not like him very much.

And I remember Ralph being my favorite character! ....annnd I also remember not liking how much dumber Ralph felt in the second move <:/

@moonwolfblogging

Oh woof. I hadn't considered all of that back then :00 poor Barnacles 💀

That depends, are you willing to eat an entire stick of refrigerated butter? 👁️👁️

My all time favorite character from TFP is Ratchet! :)) Tho Bulkhead is a close seconds by like a hair. The more I watch the show the closer to being my top favorite he becomes <XDD (Also my favorite TFP decepticon is Soundwave!)

When it comes to the movies, I have seen the bayverse movies and that one bumble bee movie. And I thiiink I can safely say my favorite bot in both was Optimus Prime :)

@mothydemons

WAAAAHHGG THATS SO SWEETTT THANK YUU AND TELL YOUR SISTER I THANK HER AS WELLL 😭😭😭💞💞💞💞💞

(Also I love those two characters! :DD They look really cool! :}}} )

(Referencing this post)

XD As long as I'm alive, so is he!

I am always stressed <:) Existing is very upsetting! ❤️ Thank you for the tea and cake tho! :)

@im-nice-but-i-dont-like-you

Yes! :DD Its been a bit stressful so far but not as bad as I thought it would be! :)) (ALSO AAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD )

@chickenmilk120

Aw! :DD Thank you so much! :))

If Bash ever went fully blind it would be very hard for him mentally :( and obviously physically-

I mean, losing part of his vision was already bad enough. He lost the ability to recognize faces.. so you can imagine he's always on edge, and always nervous. Not being able to tell your friends apart from the enemy on the battlefield has resulted in injuries I'm sure..

But to go completely blind? Man.. the stress would probably kill him. Making him feel like a helpless or caged animal. Not to mention a "useless" one too..

Thank you!! 🥰🥰

@doodleclownbunny

I think I like Fantasy or Factual just fine <XD Also thank you so much! :))

@loud-kid2

With his really wide smile and unusual eyes, he seems like a lot of fun to draw in a more horrific light. Otherwise he's alright :0 my favorite of the 3 boo types is still the classic large boo with the little gold crown.👑

AAAAA YOU'RE WELCOME!! :DDD AND ALSO W RATCHET LOVER HE'S MY FAVORITE TOO 🧡🚑🧡

@florafandoms

Thank you so much!! :DDD

Also lion guard looks familiar, I swear I've seen that lion cub before.. although I've never watched it <:/

@multifandomgummybear

AAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD💞💞

I've unfortunately become more skeptical of Rescue Bots and any spin offs of it recently. <:(

I've gotten word that they really baby-ified the series, and broke a lot of the established canon for the sake of selling the show to kids. The best example being that they brought Optimus back to life with apparently no reasonable explanation..

The insistence that these two shows are canonically connected to Prime makes me really not want to watch them. Because its just been baby-ified and its like all of the serious tones and events of Prime don't matter at all and somethings are completely reversed..

(If I'm wrong please lmk--)

Thank you so much! :DD Also hmmm... that's a good question..

When it comes to the most pleasant experience I've had with posting fanart and interacting with a fandom, its probably the transformers prime fandom :))

@digi-vie

Ooo! :00 They both look very good! Thank you for showing me! :)))

@theintroverse (Referencing this post)

As many as I can draw I suppose! XD

@beryl-shade (Referencing this post)

XD sorry for the scare!

#my response #transformers prime #transformer ocs

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everettswritings · 1 month ago

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https://www.tumblr.com/everettswritings/777684642863136768/teddy-anon-here-and-ok-i-got-an-idea-im-sure?source=share

I got inspired by this...imagine:

White lily doesn't regress because she doesn't think she deserves happy baby time...her four friends STRONGLY disagree...cue babying her until she can't hold it in anymore and finally regresses and starts having her 'two moms and two dads' start to take care of her lol

I can't wait to see how the 4 make her regress or subtly nudge her into regressing aaaand what white lily is like being babied...and maybe, if you want a dash of origin of idea in there, say golden cheese 'punishes' her by claiming that the 'tickle monster' is gonna 'eat her tummy' and cue playful belly nibbles or raspberries and white lily going nuts lol!

Also leaving it kinda vague so you can stuff as many things as you wanna do with idea into it...just added little tibits of ideas incase you like it and/or get inspiration for it and/or something!

I actually love this idea so much and I was dying to get to it. This is canon. I’m DevSisters, trust, trust. (Kink/NSFW accounts DNI!)

White Lily Cookie sighed as she laid down on the floor, reading, all while her friend’s had their prying eyes locked onto her. They looked like they were waiting for something to transpire. They were, actually. Since it had been so long since they last saw White Lily Cookie, it had also been so long since they were able to watch her regress and take care of her. She knew this, too, but she didn’t feel like she deserved it after what she had done.

“Can you all stop staring at me, please?” She asked softly. The others mumbled, but didn’t say anything as they finally stopped their staring. However, being as bold as she was, Hollyberry Cookie walked over to her friend’s side and kneeled down to her level to talk.

“Come on, dear, you can’t blame us when it’s been such a while!” She gently pinched White Lily Cookie’s cheek, already baby-talking, “Where’s our little girl?”. White Lily Cookie could feel her little self trying to peak over her walls, but she gently shooed her away and stood up with the book in her arms. “Not today, guys.” She stated and walked away. Golden Cheese Cookie huffed and crossed her arms, “That isn’t fair! I believe I deserve some baby time.”.

The others nodded in agreement. They looked to one another, then grinned, as if silently concocting a scheme. Maybe there would be a way to coax it out of her, no? It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve done such a thing.

White Lily Cookie had retreated to her greenhouse, engrossing herself in the book once more, but then she heard footsteps on the stone and looked up to see Pure Vanilla Cookie approaching her. He waved, she waved back, then returned her attention to the pages as she flitted through them. She couldn’t ignore the buzzing sound that hung over her head, though. She noticed a bee hovering close by, trying to get into the flower she wore in her hair, and tried to shoo it away.

“Go… go away.”

Pure Vanilla Cookie then grabbed her hand, chuckling softly, “Careful! It would hurt if he stung you, wouldn’t it?”. White Lily Cookie gave him a funny look, then nodded somewhat, “That’s right. Here, let me handle it for you.” The healer offered and gently took the bee in his hand to place it on a flower further away. Pure Vanilla Cookie then waved at the bee, “Bye-bye, Mr. Bee!” Lily, say bye-bye.” He told her. The first letter escaped her lips, then she covered her mouth. He cannot be serious.

“I can’t believe you guys.” She stood up again “I’m not regressing today!” She pouted, the treatment was already working its magic. Sure, it would be a slow process, but it would be worth it. She decided she’d try the gardens outside. Big mistake.

As soon as she sat down by a blossoming tree, a Cream Wolf ran up to her and started sniffing and licking her. White Lily Cookie turned the other cheek, trying to avoid getting any of the dog’s slobber all over her face. She heard a whistle from Dark Cacao Cookie, the Cream Wolf heard it too and went to his side.

“My apologies, honey. This one just started training.” He knelt down beside White Lily Cookie and gently wiped her face with a handkerchief, “So messy.” He murmured. White Lily Cookie caught herself giggling at the feeling, which made Dark Cacao Cookie smile softly, “Aww, is that funny?” He asked. White Lily Cookie covered her mouth with her hand and shook her head. He then pointed to the book in her hands, “Do you wish to read?” He chuckled fondly and sat down next to her “Come, I’ll read with you.” He offered. “Stop it!” White Lily Cookie started pouting again “I know what you guys are doing.” She stormed away.

“Hmph.” Dark Cacao Cookie snapped his fingers with defeat, he really thought that would get her.

White Lily Cookie finally gave up on trying to read in peace, considering how her friends insisted on helping her regress. She said she didn’t want to, but they all knew that wasn’t the reality of it. She really wanted to, she was so close, but she felt like she didn’t deserve it. How could she deserve it after all the pain she had caused them? Now she just had to watch out for Hollyberry Cookie and Golden Cheese Cookie.

White Lily Cookie was sitting in the banquet hall, trying to think of what she wanted to eat, but with her mind trying to drift into littlespace it was hard to focus on anything. Hollyberry Cookie saw the opportunity and went for it, walking up next to her, “Can’t choose? Don’t worry about it, I’ll get something for you.”. White Lily Cookie was honestly about to decline the offer, but all the “no”s and “stop it”s got caught up in her throat. She nodded reluctantly. Hollyberry Cookie chuckled and patted her head “Attagirl! Go and sit down, I’ll bring it to you.”.

White Lily Cookie nodded again and went to sit down at one of the tables by the stained glass windows. She found herself chewing on her fingers, a terrible habit she had. Oho? What’s this? A double team effort? Golden Cheese Cookie showed up behind her and poked her tummy, causing her to giggle and stop her chewing.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk! You know it’s not good to nom on your hands, baby.” She stroked White Lily Cookie’s hair, sitting beside her, “Now what happened to your teether?” She started looking through an imaginary bag at her side. Hollyberry Cookie smiled and sat down across from Golden Cheese Cookie and shook her head, setting White Lily Cookie’s food down in front of her, “She doesn’t need that old thing! She’s just hungry. Aren’t you?”. White Lily Cookie nodded, immediately grabbing her fork and clumsily scooping up bites of food. Little crumbs fell all over her dress, making both Golden Cheese Cookie and Hollyberry Cookie laugh.

“There she is!” She said, patting White Lily Cookie’s head again, making her babble in response. “Guys, come in here! Look how precious!” Hollyberry Cookie called, summoning the last two of the Five. The boys immediately started cooing and fawning over how precious their friend looked, sitting themselves at the table as well.

See? The results were worth it! All though it took a little elbow grease, they finally got their dear White Lily Cookie to regress once more. It was such an adorable sight. Oh, if only she could stay like that forever!

The end

Ahhh!!! cute!!! I’m surprised I didn’t include any tickling like suggested, but honestly I can save that for a part two. Have a good one 🫶

#everetts writings #sfw agere #sfw age regression #crk agere #cookie run agere #little!white lily cookie #cg!hollyberry cookie #cg!dark cacao cookie #cg!pure vanilla cookie #cg!golden cheese cookie #agere fanfic #crk fanfic

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imblueeforyuu · 5 months ago

Text

Yandere monster x male reader

part two

Imagine, you're a new dad of a precious pair of twins. You have a beautiful wife, she stays at home with the kids while you work. You love your life, and the people in it. love your wife, and you love your kids. Your life is going perfectly, absolutely nothing could ruin it.

“Have a great day at work sweetheart,” your wife said, kissing your cheek. You blush it’s been five years since you started dating but you still feel like that schoolboy who couldn’t look at her without blushing.

Honestly you didn’t know how you pulled her. You were such a nerd in high school, your nose in a book, and not to mention your obsession with monsters. But she was the queen bee type. You kiss your baby's goodbye and head off to work, not before stealing another kiss from your wife. You smile big, this is life.

You came home to a silent home, Instantly you could tell something was wrong. Normally you’d come home to the smell of dinner cooking, normally you would hear your wife humming along to whatever song she was listening to. But no, it was quiet. You walk towards your room, maybe she was taking a nap? It was dark so you turned on the lights as you passed by them. Walking into the master bedroom you saw nothing. Wait, the kids, you walked into the nursery. Nothing was wrong, thankfully.

You hear the door close behind you. You pause. Turning around you see nothing. Was something here? You get closer to your kids. Wait, maybe it’s your wife pranking you, yeah that works. She was never that type but maybe she was just feeling playful.

“Hun,” you chuckle. “I love the prank but you're starting to creep me out.”

You feel something grab your waist, but it wasn’t the small hands of your dear wife. They were big and cold. Definitely not her.

Imagine someone, or something coming close, Studying you.

“This is who she chose over me,” the thing scoffed. You still haven’t gotten a good look at the figure that grabbed you. He seemed mad at you, or you assumed it was a he.

“You're a twig,” it demeaned you. It seemed proud of itself so you weren’t going to break the news to him that his insult sucked.

“Well, doesn’t matter anymore I’m here to take back my kid,” he let you go and stalked off towards the crib. Your eyes widened. What does it mean by his kid?

Imagine the fear when this thing goes towards your kids. Your babys, barely even a year old, could die because of this strange man you can’t even see. Which was honestly starting to freak you out, I mean wouldn’t your eyes adjust by now?

You were so freaked out that your mind goes blank. The only thought is to save your kids, but how?

‘Light‘ You hear a voice whisper in your head‘. The light switch! But what is that going to do? Whatever, no time to think. You quickly turn on the light.

“Argh!” The monster yowled. It slapped his hands to his eyes. It worked! It was weak to light, but now what? The monster was writhing in pain. You kinda felt bad. Brushing that thought away you grab your twins and book it out of the house.

Days pass and you finally decide to go back to your house. Thankfully everything seemed ok. Still no wife but at least the monster was gone, well that’s what you thought. Walking into the twins shared room you saw the monster again you pause. It was still rocking back and forth covering its eyes but it seemed ok enough. The monster heard you come in. It bolted towards your feet, it started to beg.

“Oh please great lord turn the lights off,” it cried out, kissing your feet. You do. The monster laughs maniacally and goes to attack you. You turn on the lights. immediately it went back to begging. You smirk. Now you have a puppy demon monster thing you can force to do your bidding (getting groceries you hate getting groceries) your electric bill did go up But it was all worth it. Your twins also seem oddly ok with the monster for some reason. maybe they have a connection you don’t know about? He did mention one being his kid Well doesn’t matter, now you have twin infants and a seven foot puppy to take care of. You hardly have time to think of such minuscule things like that. Right?

#male reader #yandere x male reader #yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x male darling #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere thoughts #yandere drabble #yandere monster #monster fucker

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meo-eiru · 9 months ago

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oh to have an elf whisk you away and take care of you in their own, community focused society

oh, for the only worry of your day to be how much I could see yourself loving it here, but you cannot give in! they are tricking you! you HAVE to retaliate against their coos and insistence that you need them, because you simply can’t be as helpless as they think you are. You’ve tried so hard for so long, you’re not dependent on anyone. You simply CAN’T be!! >:(

but…you can’t get sad too often or the bees will notice and their honey will be less sweet… and you can’t sleep all day anymore cause none of the elves know the right lullabys to sing to the stawberry plants you have been put in charge of, and you can’t miss a day right now!! the smallest of the lot just sprouted the first bud of the season and it needs you to stroke its leaves and hum the right notes so it knows how proud of it you are. And letting the fish in the pond kiss your fingertips does NOT mean you are happy here, if anything it proves how much you don’t belong, because they always dart away whenever the elves and their too-large frames join you. See? Even the fishies know not to trust their trickster fingers.

You have NOT begun to cave. In fact, the only reason you enjoy spending time with the elf next door- the one with the too-soft hair and skin that feels like silk- is you miss your family so much. The dust on your cheeks when he parades you both around the tiny village to show off the pastries you made together is anger! No you do NOT want to write a letter to your family/friends with him, no matter if he offers to let you use his special spotted quill! They might actually believe the story that you suddenly moved to the forest (it does sound like you…), besides, the messenger bird dancing upon your head is MUCH too cheery, they would be too distracted by the large, lively fluffball to even think about coming to save you.

Ah, it’s getting late now…

It’s alright, you can lean your head into the nook of this elf’s neck and rest your eyes for a bit. It’s okay if you grip their chest a bit too, tomorrow you’ll be able to remind them and the rest of the village just how miserable you are here >:(

Ok Shakespeare omg???

This is so deliciously written I read it twice already, please read it you all!!

#asks #Silas #yandere elf #yandere elf x reader

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tumblingxelian · 6 months ago

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Need to preserve these notes cos these are great @personwithaknife

#on the other hand I like drama and complexity and messiness#<- on the Other other hand you can still have messy and complex stuff with kids being kids and not realizing poly IS an option

#I'd say Rose is kinda just in the middle of this. not really getting what's happening till a Significant amount of stuff happened

#Chloe just needs someone to love and even if she needs it i doubt it really clicks to her that people DO love her #she does everything knowing that the love she's throwing might not be caught and yet still willing to risk being hurt for that one chance #she knows is never gonna happen

#and when it does it kinda doesn't compute with her

#meanwhile Juleka would be suffering with feeling she's betraying rose and then QB later on despite not being involed with either #she's doing all of this knowing that she's hurting not just both. rose doesn't know but Juleka still feels like she's hurting her. and QB

#definitely doesn't take rejection that well #but Juleka is also hurting herself in her attempt to get with rose. failing and having a situationship with QB #that is to say#no matter the direction its gonna be messy no matter what

Tiger-Bee Timeline realization but Choe & Juleka would probably cram 'so much' relationship drama into a small amount of time.

Cos for both of them their hero identities are kind of a new lease on life, getting to be a new person, someone they like kind of deal.

For while QB is a bit boastful and blunt at times, she's generally regarded as a good, brave and worthwhile person and she's doing something constructive, that doesn't contradict how she was raised (Because no one in her life tried to shape her perception of what to do if she ever got magic powers.)

While for Juleka its confidence, strength, the spotlight, a chance to embrace her every wild impulse and instinct without reservation of restraint. She's not meek or cursed to be unseen here, so she's very bold and free. (& also confident enough to try and maybe consider making a move with Rose.)

So both of them are very inclined to embrace their powers, roles and new identities and have the freedom to spend a lot of time in them. & overall I imagine their dynamic is pretty good if unpredictable at times.

But!

As said, Juleka has had a crush on Rose since forever, and the bolstered confidence means either as Violet Tigress or Juleka she maybe makes an attempt. But in the former case, she's a bit too much, and in the latter, well unfortunate timing but Prince Ali is visiting.

oops.

So either way Juleka's not doing so hot, but then there's QB who can be a little clingy but offers a lot of similar adoring-ness to Rose. & they get along so well anyway and- cue rebound.

Big oof.

Chloe's inclined to fall hard and fast, she got a dearth of deep or healthy emotional connections. Adrien's the closest she has to a stable/healthy relationship that isn't either toxic and exploitative (her parents) or skewed by warped power dynamics (Sabrina). & Violet Tigress is her chosen partner, they 'must' be perfect for each other.

But then Ali leaves, and Rose kind of puts together what Juleka was going for, or gains the confidence to make a move of her own and well. Juleka's love Rose forever, and oh no, this isn't fair to QB, but- well technically they're different people right, personas at least, no that's not right, but.

Ooh dear.

Suffice to say things would be capital A, Awkward and given both of their respective backgrounds or interests, I could easily see the Tiger-Bee duo as having agreed to do interviews earlier. But by the time that rolls around their relationship is at best filed under the "Its complicated" tag.

But then if their IDs come out if only to each other, then there's another whole layer to it. Cos even if Chloe's been improving as a result of QB, or perhaps no improving as Chloe (She can compartmentalize her identities, the obligations of QB the hero & Chloe are different, different!) Well now that's another added layer of complexity so if they weren't tagged as such before-hand, they sure are now!

Then imagine this all happening over the course of like, half a season.

the best option is poly

#Love these #great stuff!#Had my own sort of pseudo poly thoughts like #Where QB is like 'No you can date someone as a civilian we're essentially different people its nto two twiming #& Juleka kind of rolls with it cos she wants them both in her life but int rying to articulate this to Rise without revealing her ID #She reveals her ID without realizing it but that means Rose is OK with it #Cos she's a bit leery of Tigress's side & shipped Tiger-Bee #But also has some stuff of her own to face.#IE this all comes to ahead with the Chloe ID reveal #So she's like: You can't be mad at QB for what Chloe did or you were cheating on two girls!#Juleka: Dammit she's right but QB do you think Chloe is a good person?#Chloe: Dammit she's got me!#Rose: Well I'm just glad I didn't do anything wrong.#Chloe: You only made a move on Juleka once you thought you might lose her you had her in the palm of your hand for years & did nothing!#Rose: OK it wasn't as strategic as that but thinking on it damn I kind of did just keep Juleka on standby didn't I?#Cue Prime Queen: So how's your relationship?#Tiger-Bee: Complicated

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l223m0nade · 5 months ago

Text

Bees (a stucky au snzfic)

ok ok

so I saw this random thing on a tumblr post:

and it got its Stucky-idea hooks so deep in my brain. It just did. And the thing is my deepest inspo is honestly in the land of snz. (This fic kind of ends abruptly sorry but i want to do more and it'll probably end up on Ao3 w like a M or E rating 😳🫣 when and if that happens i'll link to it)

Stucky au, no powers, age gap, what I'm picturing in my head goes less with the words "silver fox Steve" and more with the words "dorky Dilf Steve" like 2012 Cap fashion with current Chris Evans face? in..a good way? and longhair early-20s burnout Bucky. I have some backstory headcanons that are just hinted at here, hopefully it's tantalizing rather than confusing.

anyway have 11.5k words of this and encourage me to write more bc i have fallen in love with these particular boyz. Some light existential angst but mainly idiots pining aka the sweetest sauce

~Fic~

Sam isn’t sure how much longer he can allow this to go on. His barback and the new semi-regular square dude are once again being all awkwardly flirty while pretending they’re not, like two sad lonely white...ducks, who never learned a mating dance and have zero game.

At least Square Dude has an excuse: he’s the most obvious newly-divorced newly-out family-type guy Sam’s ever seen. He’s clean-cut, with a ridiculously handsome square jaw, wearing well-made but unstylish button-down shirts and pants that make him look like he belongs in a Norman Rockwell painting. He started coming in about two months ago, quiet, friendly when ordering his one or two beers of the evening, and firmly shy when it comes to the inevitable overtures sent his way. It doesn’t take a genius to see that this is him dipping a first toe into the pool: coming to a relatively quiet gay bar, just to sit and watch men talk to each other and let the whole notion sink in.

By now most guys would’ve found someone to spread their wings with or gone elsewhere to find em, but Square Dude, whose name is Steve, seems content to talk to the guy who pours his beer about whatever DIY project Bucky is pulling questions out of his ass about.

The crush is painfully obvious, and suburban closeted Steve can’t be blamed for having no deal-sealing abilities, but Bucky has no such excuse. Sam has watched him pull stiff-backed business bros in five minutes flat when the mood struck him, with his big blue puppy eyes and his dark wicked smirk and long lean slouch. But with Steve all he appears capable of doing is asking him questions about crown molding as though those words mean anything to him while gazing at him like he’s beaming the words You could fix me directly into Steve’s skull. Steve, for his part, just doesn’t seem to be able to look anywhere other than Bucky.

As usual, anyone that tries to strike anything beyond a friendly conversation is kindly but firmly rebuffed. “He’s not ready for that yet,” Bucky had insisted with unnecessary defensiveness when Sam implied it was time for the new guy to move from spectating to participating in the relatively mellow flirting and hookup scene the bar played host to most evenings. “People go at their own pace.”

“The only pace he’s going at is towards you,” Sam smirked. Bucky glowered at his implication. “You gotta make it weird. He comes here to, like, practice. I’m part of that, in a chill, friendly way.” He shrugged and looked at the glass he was drying. “When he is ready, it’s not gonna be for me, it’s gonna be for someone actually in his league, like a...hot college professor, or something.” Sam had rolled his eyes and resolved to stop trying to help Bucky Barnes flail around in his mess of a love life anymore, for the hundredth or so time.

Tonight is busy enough that Sam can mostly be distracted from this bad sitcom, and not so busy that he has to yell at Barnes for being distracted. Still, there are a couple empties on tables in the Steve-less side of the bar, and after finishing the drinks for the people in front of him he turns, catching Bucky’s voice, in a tone of delight he uses when speaking with only one person, saying “Wait. Seriously? Bees?”

“Yeah!” Steve responds, equally puppyish. He’s tall and broad, sandy hair and beard just beginning to show a hint of salt-and-pepper. He looks like anyone’s fantasy fireman or lumberjack, at least in the context of a place like this. He also exudes genuine sweetness and vulnerability despite his intimidating muscled height.

Bucky Barnes, Sam’s barback and old friend, leans against the bar doing the helpless-goober-with-a-crush stare, a look on his face like Steve just announced he was a Nobel Prize winner. “No way. How do you keep bees? Just as, what, a casual hobby? That’s, like, a whole thing, you can’t be an expert in so many things!”

Bucky is all shaggy longish dark hair and stupid cheap graphic t-shirts, with a striking, animated face that is used mainly for sarcasm. He and Sam had been at the same high school a few blocks away, though Sam is older, and in the funny way of life they’ve wound up good friends. He’s working at Sam’s place because, in his words, he doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing with his life. Bucky’s going through his own version of one of those fairly bleak lost periods of 20-something misery, but he’s smart and not a drunk and decent at what he does for Sam, and if he bangs a third of the customers he does it discreetly enough. Sam never knew dark-blond, broad-shouldered, bass-voice sad-eyed dudes pushing 40 were the kryptonite that made him unable to do anything including flirt, until Steve came in one day and Bucky sprayed himself with the keg he was tapping.

Steve chuckles— is this man blushing? “Oh no, I’m nowhere near an expert. But it’s pretty easy once they get established. Don’t need much from you. I’m not, uh, living at the place with the backyard where the hives are, right now….so….but they’ll be fine without me.”

Steve gets a little quiet and Bucky’s fangirl expression dims with distressed sympathy. It gets sad like this sometimes when talking to Steve. Recently divorced guys had this problem, where everything came back to the one topic. Steve’s not doing it pathologically, didn’t seem like, just genuinely realizing another change. Bucky looks stricken. He doesn’t always seem young, at newly 24, but sometimes it still shows.

Sam finally manages to catch his eye away from gazing at Steve to convey a quick head jerk of get-the-hell-over-there-and-do-the-job-I-pay-you-for, and Bucky peels himself away with an apologetic smile at Steve. Sam picks up the conversation with Steve as Bucky clears tables at top speed, hearing how he’s renting a place month-to-month not far away, not able to plan something more permanent just yet. He doesn’t say anything revealing, but it’s still easy to paint a picture of a small, empty apartment. Bucky’s not the only one with a soft spot for this guy, and Sam is warmed by the thought that his little bar offers him respite.

………………..

“That’s so sad,” moans Bucky a few days later. It’s just after opening on a weekday afternoon, and Bucky seemed quieter than usual so Sam is tantalizing him with what he learned talking to Steve the other day. “Did he say—you know he has kids?”

“Yeah, I know,” Sam answers. He’d been as offhand as a person could be about that sort of thing, but it wasn’t hard to see how he really felt. He was standing in the rubble of a sincere loving marriage to a woman with whom he had two 11-year old twins. Helped explain his rectitude when it came from moving from his spot at the bar, meeting someone other than the staff. Bucky’s eyes are pools of sympathetic anguish and Sam feels the need to say, “This kinda stuff happens to people, Buck,” earning an eye-roll for his patronizing efforts. “It’s good he’s coming here, learning about himself. I think you help a lot, for the record.”

Bucky starts and gives him a bewildered look. “What?”

This is aging him. Sam sighs, “He’s lonely. Maybe feels kinda lost right now.”

Bucky’s mouth gets a pained downward slant to it.

“He. Likes. You.”

At that, of course, Bucky gets uncomfortable, blushing and moving off to wipe tables somewhere away from Sam, rubbing his nose and clearing his throat like he’s been doing since he got there. He brightens when Steve comes in an hour later, and Sam rolls his eyes and leaves them to their game of mouse-and-mouse.

Steve is telling Bucky... how window insulation works. He thinks he asked, he hopes to god he did, at least. He’s been embarrassing himself for weeks, coming to this place almost every day. He’s kept it pretty well under wraps that although he liked the neighborhood simplicity, and talking to Sam, and got comfortable after the first few visits, the real reason he’s there more evenings than not is to see Bucky. With his bright grey-blue eyes and dark hair hanging past his chin, swinging against his cheekbones, with his smile and wicked sense of humor and his confounding ease in himself, the ease that gives Steve despair and hope for himself. With that mouth and that divot in his chin, and those last two thoughts are not allowed, because the need to put his thumb into that dot in his sculpted chin and kiss those ridiculously pink lips is urgent and unthinkable.

He doesn’t do that, he just sits and pines and chats awkwardly with him, and gets to know a few other regular guys and talks sports with Sam. He just likes talking to Bucky, it’s easy, easy like nothing has been in a long time, and he’s a creep, he’s a pathetic older guy using his experience to take advantage of a younger guy—

Only, he’s not actually experienced here, at all. And Bucky is so smart, he’s self-deprecating about it but it’s not like he and Steve aren’t generally on the same level beyond his inner glossary of home improvement terminology. He downplays the fact that he knows cars like an expert, insists the stuff Steve learned from keeping up an old house and the hobbies he picked up to stay sane is somehow far more impressive— Steve’s pretty sure he’s doing it on purpose, to make him feel less adrift and clueless. He has that way about him, of someone who looks after other people without realizing it.

Things were all dark there for a while, with the end of his marriage to Peggy. But he’s pretty sure he and Bucky are friends, and he feels bright when he sees him.

Tonight, though, Bucky seems just a little worn down. He’s wearing a waffle-knit shirt under his incomprehensible-thorny-calligraphy-t-shirt, as though he’s cold, and his eyes are tired. Steve waits for a reply to the last thing he said and looks to see Bucky with a dazed, spaced-out expression, before he shakes his head and rubs his nose, saying “Sorry, I thought I was gonna sneeze, what’d you say?”

Talking about the goddamn weather and window insulation was segueing into a real conversation, to Steve’s delight: “How my mom moved us out to Jersey so we could live somewhere better and I never forgave her.” Bucky gives a wide-eyed grimace of agreement and he can’t help the bright laugh that bursts out of him. “How about you, you grow up in the city?” He’d inadvertently spilled his guts about the divorce on like his third time in the bar, something that humiliated him to think of but Sam had simply said with an understanding face wasn’t too unusual, so Bucky knew the basics about Peggy and the twins, but Steve had felt clumsy asking Bucky about himself.

He rolled his eyes with his problematically attractive crooked grin and answered, “Aw man, I grew up practically around the block from this place. Went to high school at the big catholic cinderblock in the neighborhood. I was at school on the west coast for a couple years, but…” His eyes cast downward. “now I’m back.”

Steve remembers how bad it felt at that age, to not have accomplished enough fast enough. Saying that will make him sound like an old grey dad and even if that’s what he is he can still hold out a little hope of being something different here, so he just says, “Brooklyn’s a good hometown to come back to.”

That makes Bucky smile at him and look him in the eye, like he liked what Steve said, even like it made him feel better. Steve tamps his answering grin down to reasonable levels.

Bucky’s also been rubbing at his nose on and off this whole time, and he can see it give a little twitch right before he breathes out a “scuse-me” through hitching breaths, his eyes flickering closed. He pushes his nose firmly into his long-sleeved elbow. “hhh-hh-tdschuh!” He sneezes quietly and muffled. “Oh, snf, sorry,” he says, blinking and emerging from his elbow but not lowering it, the hazy ticklish look still on his face, breaths hitching. “Another—hhh—‘nother one?” He freezes, looking up at the overhead lights, nostrils flared, but after a second he deflates with a sigh. “Nope, nevermind. Snff.” Steve’s guts swoop. This crush is so unsustainable. He’s gonna fail to be cool and friendly and he’ll have to watch Bucky go all uncomfortable and pitying as he explains to Steve that he has six hot boyfriends who are not almost-forty almost-virgin losers who only know how to take up his time when he’s trying to work. According to his therapist these “harangues of negativity” are “unhelpful.” But Bucky looks tired and a little pale and like his nose is going to start turning pink and Steve is just trying to survive.

“Bless you,” Steve says softly in his gentle voice that’s so deep it takes Bucky by surprise and makes his stomach flutter every time he talks to him. He feels like he might be blushing.

“Thanks,” it comes out husky and he clears his throat hard, moving to the little sink to wash his hands.

“Allergies, or…?” Steve ventures, a little divot between his eyebrows of concern-more-like-pity.

“I dunno, something’s bothering my nose today,” he says lightly with a shrug. In truth Bucky has a good idea what’s making him sneeze. The fucking radiator that was supposed to heat his cheap shitty basement apartment had stopped working in the middle of the night, so he’d spent six hours until dawn shivering, and an itchy tickly feeling had been growing in the back of his nose and throat since around noon. It’s starting to evolve into a runny nose and an ever-present but elusive feeling of being about to sneeze, and he knows that means he’s coming down with a cold.

He sees some convenient glasses to clear and excuses himself with a smile so he can sniffle out of Steve’s earshot; he’s enough of a mess compared to Steve on his best day, he doesn’t need to show off his scraggly urchin runny nose aesthetic of tonight any more than he has to.

For the next hour, these light, tickly sneezes either sneak up on him or abandon him at the last minute, leaving his nose feeling like it’s going to start getting stuffy.

Steve watches Bucky do his job, sniffling, rubbing his nose, and sneezing furtively into his sleeve or collar; tucking the strands of hair that have come loose from his short ponytail behind his ears, and feels so helplessly tender for him that it can’t be normal or healthy even by desperate crush standards.

Bucky’s coming down with a cold. He seems to want to brush it off, but Steve can hear a slight change in the resonance of his voice that gives it away even if the tired pink starting to border his eyes and nostrils doesn’t. The place is getting crowded and he’s busy; Steve feels for him, as well as pathetically jealous of his attention as he banters with him in passing once in a while.

He glances up as Bucky heads in his direction with a short stack of empty glasses and sees his steps slow; he pauses, blinks up at the overhead light, eyes hazy, and then, wavering, starts to turn his face into his shoulder, before pausing again and then sighing and sniffing as the sneeze evaporates. He looks up and sees Steve watching him like a creep and laughs, “Damn, lost her,” and then as he continues behind the bar, “You havin’ fun watching me look stupid?”

“It’s agony actually,” he responds, gets a laugh, and feels the now-somewhat-familiar internal squeal of this is flirting! I’m flirting with a guy and I think he can tell! It’s painfully pathetic, but he can’t help but track the fact that Bucky knows plenty of the folks that come to Sam’s, that he’ll give anyone his attention if they ask for it, smiling and joking, but the only person he really goes out of his way to talk to, initiates teasing with, is him, Steve. It’s still nothing more than polite obligatory chatting, he’s sure— when you work at a bar this kinda thing is natural. Bucky is young and charismatic and gorgeous. His love life would probably give Steve enough combined envy and jealousy to cause heart failure, which would be perfectly appropriate because he is an old square divorcee. It makes him warm and bubbly enough that he seems to be Bucky’s favorite customer to pass the time with.

A guy down the bar gets his beer from Sam and sidles closer. “This seat taken?” he asks with a good-humored cocked eyebrow. This is why Steve actually started coming to this place: to meet people, to meet guys, in a way that, well, went somewhere. To call his own decades-old bluff. Not to moon over staff half his age who woulda been out of his league even if he was still in his twenties. He turns to the guy—his age or a few years older, attractively lithe with muscle, a hard but handsome face, and smiles.

Bucky gets busy for a stretch— Sam’s place is actually full tonight thanks to the playoff game. He enjoys the feeling of being a genuinely necessary part of the bar’s operation, when some nights it’s hard to believe he’s more than Sam’s charity case. Nights like this remind him that he has a real job, he’s decent at it even with a bum left arm; whether he’s living out his dreams or not he’s an adult with a job, a place to live, and people he cares about. Plus it distracts him from feeling sorry for himself for coming down sick.

His satisfied feelings fade when he looks over to the Steve end of the bar and sees Brock Rumlow talking to him. He scowls. Fucking Rumlow. He only ever comes on nights with games these days, but Bucky would be perfectly happy if he never came in at all.

It’s fine. Steve’s fine. He is a grown-up, significantly more of one than Bucky. Of all the people who have no need of his misplaced ineffectual chivalry, Steve has got to be last in line.

Maybe he finds more stuff to do in the general area of that end of the bar, and maybe he’s listening for Rumlow to say something dickish, or maybe he’s just a masochist and he wants to know firsthand if they hit it off. Sam is trying to point his “Don’t-be-Stupid” face at him like a flashlight beam but he resolutely ignores it while he replaces a couple bottles that legitimately needed it, ok, just because they’re in a convenient place doesn’t make that untrue.

“Yeah, I’m glad I found this place,” he catches Steve’s cheerful voice. A wave of bar noise obscures their next words, and then he makes out Rumlow,

“—actual sports on the TV. ‘Course,” the smile is audible in his voice, “the clubby places are good for at least one reason, y’know?” He quiets down to say it but not enough. Steve wouldn’t particularly like that, Bucky guesses, and then grinds his teeth as his brain helpfully supplies him with the memories of how easily Brock had charmed him, months ago. It wasn’t any kind of nightmare, but it was still probably his least favorite hookup to date: he’d been so happily focused on Bucky at first, then rough and selfish in bed, capped off by an unnecessarily clear implication that he wouldn’t be calling. Bucky knew the score with casual sex, but it had still given him enough whiplash to sting; it crossed his mind a few days later that it had been like Rumlow wanted him to feel like a dumb kid.

Steve has sputtered something about “not sure he’s looking for anything like that” while Bucky fumed about the past. He has to grab beers for a couple guys, and bending to get in the lowboy fridge makes his nose run suddenly, and flush with an insistent tickle. He manages, just barely, to squash the sneeze completely into a silent mmp! into his shoulder, andmakes a getaway to the bathroom. He blows his nose, but it won’t stop tickling, so then he stands there like an idiot, holding paper towels like they’re a book he’s reading, staring up into the lights and waiting to coax the sneeze out.

He can feel it coming but it still takes forever. At least the bathroom is empty. He wrinkles his nose exaggeratedly and sniffs and his breath finally starts to catch.

“hehh...heh...heh—heh-Uhh....huhh. Fuck.” There’s no way it’s not happening though, his goddamn nose tickles so bad— “hhHAh—EHSsschhooo!” It’s a ridiculous cartoony sneeze but at least it’s satisfying. He blows his nose again, then sighs. He’s definitely sick. Gonna be great sleeping in a freezing apartment. Turning into kind of a shitty night, he thinks with sarcastic pep.

When he leaves the restroom he can’t help glancing over to where Steve sits, and sees he’s now frowning at whatever Rumlow’s saying, looking politely uncomfortable on the way to annoyed. As he drifts back into earshot he hears, “….fun, but, if you’re looking for more than, um, casual, I dunno, kind of a dead end.” Then his pulse jumps as Rumlow looks right at him and finishes, “not dating material, trust me. Either way,” he leans in, “I think you can do better.”

Bucky closes the distance but puts himself behind the bar so he doesn’t immediately clock the asshole. His fists are clenched. Can he throw him out? If he doesn’t get away from Steve and shut up Bucky’s gonna end up fired and charged with assault, probably, but he doesn’t know if he can throw someone out on the grounds of being a jerk that he hates. Thank God, Sam’s caught on that something is up.

Rumlow doesn’t seem to have won Steve over, in any case. He’s turned cold and hard in a way that makes him look unfamiliar, and he says quietly but very clearly, “I think you’ve got the wrong idea.” He sounds like a straight Army Captain contemptuously shattering an underling’s heart immediately post-office-suckjob or something; in the morass of anger and panic it still registers with Bucky’s dick to his utter bewilderment. It definitely triggers some core memory for Rumlow, who turns the color of old milk before flushing and standing. He takes in the sight of Bucky glowering behind Steve and barks an ugly laugh. “It’s like that, huh?” he asks, shaking his head in mock pity. “Good luck with that rescue mission.”

Bucky feels like he did when Hank Ackerman pantsed him in 8th grade. Everything’s too bright and clear. He wants to cover his face and run into the back, but he’s rooted to the spot by the thought that that’s just what the dumb baby slut Rumlow’s been making him out to be would do.

“That’s it man,” Sam comes up beside him, smile on his face as though he’s just casually joining their conversation. “You’re done. Get outta here.”

Rumlow scoffs, takes a step towards the door, then turns with the beginning of a macho intimidation-lean in Sam’s direction. He’s hammered, Bucky hadn’t realized, and he can usually tell with people. He’s...kind of fucking scary. Had he gotten rougher around the edges, or had he been like this when Bucky went home with him? Jesus Christ.

Sam just returns his stare, all semblance of friendliness gone from his face. “Get out.”

Rumlow glares another second, but then he goes. There’s a reason Sam’s successful running a bar in the middle of the still-managing-to-be-seedy part of Brooklyn, as well as his finely tuned sensibilities to the unmet needs of Brooklyn’s grownup queer folks. He has the air, recognizable to serious troublemakers, of someone who will absolutely meet and raise any escalation. There were, in fact, a taser and a gun behind the bar, but Sam had never had to use them.

Steve stands up sharply, like he’s—what, gonna follow? Bucky opens his mouth to protest, but then—“Steve.” Sam’s got the side bar entry folded up and he’s intercepting his angry stride. “Please don’t.” He goes on, too quiet for Bucky to make out. Steve deflates and sits back down, taking a long drink of beer and then frowning at his knees.

Bucky consciously lets go of his tension as he sees Rumlow’s silhouette, walking outside, disappear from the last window on the right. He feels shaky, the way any kind of confrontation leaves him, and embarrassed as hell. He avoids Steve’s eyes for all he’s worth, scrubbing a hand under his nose and sniffing sharply.

Steve was just a customer. Bucky was just one of many people that Steve made polite conversation with in the course of a day. Feeling like this was just a consequence of getting that confused. Because he’s an idiot. He has to sniffle again. He also feels about ten times sicker than he did a few minutes ago, and successfully blinking away the brief prickle in his eyes just turns it into the need to sneeze.

Steve tries to breathe smoothly and calm down. This frat-boy rage is ridiculous, he still wants to go punch the hell out of that fucking creep. He must be drunker than he realizes, although deep down he knows it has more to do with the inarticulate surge of protectiveness he’d felt for Bucky since the guy had gestured to him with a jerk of his head as he crossed the room.

He hears a shuddering gasp and sees Bucky duck down to crouch behind the bar. His concern flares way up, but then he hears the three muffled sneezes, all in a rush, “hhhMPtchsh—hmptsschoo—hptsshhuh,”. He straightens back up, sniffing hard, more wetly than he sounded earlier. He’s rubbing his nose and glaring at the door, not looking at Steve.

“Bucky,” he says, frowning, determined to get this across, “what that asshole said about you—”

“Steve, snff, it’s fine, just drop it, okay, I’m asking you,” he meets Steve’s eyes with a downcast expression, before it flickers as his breath catches, and he sneezes again, half-pinched down into the collar of his shirt, “ihh-dtsschuh!”

His nostrils keep quivering and he lets out a shaky sigh of frustration before ducking around the corner out of sight with his hands tented over his nose and sneezing, “hiih-hih-HIDtschoo!...hih-HIH-TISchoo! ..heehh...heh—HEH—” the last one deserts him and leaves him sniffling. They’re still pretty quiet, but a lot heavier and spraying than the first sneezes Steve heard earlier. Bucky blows his nose and washes his hands thoroughly, and when he’s back behind the bar his nose is decidedly pink.

“Buck,” Steve says, and Bucky’s lips thin in exasperation— it’s not like him, compared to the guy Steve’s talked to the last few weeks. Whatever, he can’t help but say, “you do sound like you’re coming down with something, you should—”

“Steve, I’m fine,” says Bucky, in a soft tone that brooks no argument. Still tense, he turns to Steve with a crooked smile and says, “Really,” and it’s warm, if strained, between them again, and it seems like that’ll just have to satisfy Steve, and he says as much to Bucky who blushes and bites his lip for some reason.

Sam rescues Bucky by asking him to do inventory in back, letting him be sneeze and be dramatically in his feels without anyone around, especially Steve. The bar is slow enough now that he just shamelessly hides for the rest of the night. He’s constantly sniffling and sneezing and needing to blow his nose with the roll of rough brown paper towels back there, and even without that he’s too keyed up and pissed and miserable for human company, so it’s for the best.

He casts furtive recon glances to the bar where Steve sits, first craning his neck trying to spy Bucky, then brooding into his beer glass which makes Bucky feel like an asshole, then perking up at least a little shooting the shit with Sam, hopefully talking shit about Brock Dickface Rumlow. Then the misery wells up enough to get him to actually focus on work to avoid feeling it, and then it’s a few hours later and they’re closing up and he goes home to his little icebox and tires not to think about anything.

The next day, Sam chooses evil.

Steve and JB Barnes are both at least somewhat complex men, and it is always a bad idea to meddle in the affairs of others. But screw it, he’s had Bucky moaning in his ear for months now, and he was gonna have to recheck all his angry counting from last night, and these guys really seemed dumb enough to let the tension of mutual attraction strain between them until it just broke, some misunderstanding threw them both on the defensive or whatever, and they missed the chance at any of the fun part of connecting with each other.

So.

It isn’t a big surprise when Bucky calls him around 2, apologizing and pausing to make some gross “ihHgjshuhh!” noise, saying he was probably too sick with this cold to come in. What is a surprise, for poor Bucky, is Sam’s implacable response: “Duuude, I’m so sorry, but there’s some kinda convention in town and the place is packed, I need you here so bad, no matter what. You can take the next two days off, I’ll pay you.” He hears Bucky swallow back the what the hell and resignedly say ok. He feels diabolical. But hopefully it will be worth it. Steve usually comes in early on Thursdays, and he’d looked all hangdog-worried about Bucky the night before.

He’s been there twenty minutes already, chatting distractedly with Sam and staring at the TV screens but really looking all over the room like Bucky might be hiding somewhere. Bucky slouches in, ten minutes late, takes in the mostly empty room and gives Sam a betrayed glare.

“You really ndeeded mbe, huh,” he mutters as he puts his backpack away.

“You don’t even sound that bad,” Sam rejoins cheerfully, and Bucky’s mouth drops open with incredulity.

He moves some boxes around in back without issue. Then he tries to start prep by the bar. In a fifteen-minute period he has two sneezing fits that require him retreating to the bathroom to blow his nose endlessly and wash his hands. Sam decides that’s plenty sufficient. He and his customers are gonna pay a price in germ exposure for this stupid ass cupid skit he’s putting on.

“Steve, you believe this guy?” Bucky’s been avoiding Steve’s concerned hopeful looks since he got here. “He insisted on coming to work.” Bucky chokes in outrage, then coughs for real, while Steve moves a few seats closer. Sam turns; Bucky couldn’t look more betrayed if there was a knife with Sam’s name on it in his guts. Lord deliver him from dramatic white boys. “Did you take the bus here, Buck?” There was no other way for the guy to get to work, but he just replies flatly,

“Yeah.”

“You oughtta go home and rest.”

“Le me give you a ride, Buck,” Steve jumps in with the Air-Bud eagerness Sam had expected. They confirm it and bustle Barnes into a Civic while he’s sneezing too much to protest. Sam washes his hands metaphorically of the situation, and also very literally and thoroughly.

Steve’s car is a little old, and cold, and dusty. Bucky shivers as he buckles his seatbelt. He feels silently nervous and thrilled to be in Steve’s Car!!, but at the moment it’s hard to be anything but….sneezy…

“hhh-hh-hhmmPtchuh! S-s-sor-ry-hiihHIptchsh!” Holding them back when he feels like this just makes his nose more irritated and thus even sneezier. He stubbornly jams his fist under his nose to quell the tickle. He has some napkins from work, so a nose-blow is possible, but it doesn’t feel possible, not so close to Steve, who has it a million times more together than Bucky even on days when he isn’t falling apart on a cellular level.

“Bless you,” Steve says quietly. He looks at him reflexively, to see a small, sweet, sympathetic smile. “Ready?” Bucky gives a little nod and the car pulls out into the slushy road.

His nose is running onto his finger, it’s a crisis. This is why it’s always a terrible idea to leave the house when you’re really sick. “Ugh, I gotta blow mby ndose, I’mb sorry, I’mb so gross right ndow,” talking also makes his nose angry. Fucking Sam and his supervillain plan to humiliate him. What had he done to deserve this? He fumbles for the napkins with his less-dextrous left hand, the one he should have stuck under his nose, goddamnit, he’s gonna sneeze again…

“Psh, don’t worry about it,” scoffs Steve like the big huge dad he is, then with a sympathetic glance he turns the radio on, to the classic rock station, because of course, Bucky almost laughs even while racing to get tissues on his face before this giant wet sneeze overcomes him. The music is loud and it does help him feel less embarrassed.

“heh—HEH-KSSSHOOoo!” he gets the wad of napkins in front of him just in time. Blowing his nose after that demolishes them, but he feels a little closer to a human being.

“Bless you!” Steve chuckles. “Man you got a good bug, jeez!”

Why are he and Sam both so cheerful. “Thanks, I’mb glad you’re impressed,” he croaks.

“You have cold stuff at home?” Huh? When Bucky doesn’t answer he continues, “Tissues, tea, soup, medicine, you know?”

“Oh, umb, sorry, I’m tired,” Steve makes a sympathetic sound. “I usually just use toilet paper. I took the last of my Dayquil before work. I dunno if it even helped, all it feels like it did is mbake me jittery and sdeezy.”

“Why don’t we stop by a drugstore.” He sounded decisive.

“Oh, you don’t have to bother with that, really Steve—” he pauses to sniffle desperately. Technically he can afford a couple things, and he probably needs them. “Or—you could drop me off and I’ll get myself home from the store, that would totally be a big help—”

“Is the heat even on in your place?” Steve interrupts, shrewd-eyed. At Bucky’s wide-eyed sputtering response he continues, “I knew it. I used to be a broke Brooklyn kid, once upon a time. Only reason to come into work, am I right? Can’t believe landlords are still getting away with this shit.”

Bucky considers denial, then slumps. “S’why I’mb so much...hhh...worse...hh-huh-hudschuh! Snff-snff. Worse today. They said it’ll be fixed by tomorrow so...we’ll see, ha. I got a space heater and an electric kettle though, I can get in my blankets and drink tea and I’m fine.”

Steve is quiet, no response, and Bucky worries irrationally that he pissed him off. A few minutes of classic rock later, he pulls into the small parking lot attached to the drugstore, turns the car off, and turns to him, looking a little uncomfortable.

“Bucky I—” he breaks off and laughs to himself. “I know you have to be polite to customers, I don’t want to—” he makes eye contact, looking pained and rueful. “I’d like to think we’re friends. But I don’t want to put you on the spot or anything,”

“We’re friends,” Bucky interrupts gently. Steve’s face brightens like a sunrise and Bucky’s chest does a nice warm thing.

“Yeah? That’s...I’m real happy to hear it.” Steve says, sheepish but grinning. Then his eyes get the determined look that Bucky is starting to think means trouble. “Well the reason I asked is, as a friend, I really hate the idea of you trying to ride this out in an icebox apartment. I have heat. And a couch!” He hastens to add at whatever wide-eyed look Bucky’s giving him. “It’s just, I know it’s no fun being sick by yourself, and, well, honestly I wish I’d socked that asshole at the bar last night, and I really wish I’d clocked him as a jerk faster, and I’d feel a lot better if I could do something nice for you, and you really seem like you could do with some rest and medicine. Will you let me grab some stuff here and spend the night at my place—where there’s heat— and let me fuss over you?”

“Steve, that’s—that’s so nice, but I really can’t imb—snff—impose on you, and I gotta be so contagious right now…”

“I don’t care about that,” Steve says easily. “And I know you’re not gonna die on your own, but,” and, whoa, he’s deploying some kind of dignified mature version of puppy-dog eyes, it’s so sincere, and also so certain, that it starts to seem like the only sensible course of action is to let his gorgeous crush take him to his apartment while he’s the polar opposite of sexy, an unspeakable snot factory, and also possibly starting to run a fever.

….His apartment is gonna be so goddamn cold.

And lonely, incidentally.

And Steve is so nice. He’s literally, actually here, he seems to mean it that he wants to take care of Bucky’s sick bedraggled ass as some kind of friend-favor. There’s no way this is a come-on with him in this state, even if he can still muster enough energy to wish it was. No way Steve’s ever gonna want to fuck him after watching him snuffle through 200 tissues and mouth-breathe all evening, but he was nuts to think he ever would anyhow. He’s just that nice, and Bucky is that pathetic, and that might not feel great, but he wants to be Steve’s friend, he really does, and even through his own shyness he can see that the guy is pretty lonely.

“You, umb. You really don’t have to.” He says, watching Steve, who waits with obvious hopefulness. “But. Uh.” Steve raises his eyebrows and gives him a little smile, and Bucky finds himself returning it helplessly. “If you really don’t mbind. It could, potentially, be really ndice to take you up on that. You really don’t have to though!”

“I want to, though.” Jesus, he’s so sincere. Bucky feels some weird kind of protective way about the earnest honesty in his eyes.

“Well, then, okay. Thangk you, I really appreciate it.” He laughs, finally feeling how miserable it would have been to go back home and try to sleep in a cold blanket pile on his mattress on the floor. “Mby place sucks right now.”

“Alright then,” Steve beams. “Let’s get you a couple things and then get you cozy.”

Bucky’s nose is not okay with him using his face to talk instead of constantly blow it. It’s gotten completely blocked, and it’s tingling unpleasantly, and running so bad again he has to smush his knuckles under his nostrils. The tickle crests and his breath catches before he can do anything about it, but he clenches his jaw and forces it into a stifle. “hhh-huh-MMP!!” The problem with doing that is it just makes the tickle— “hh-mMP!” worse. “Ugh, sorry.” His hand is a dam against his nose at this point.

“Bless you!” They both step out of the car, but Steve hurries over to his side with a crinkle in his brow. “Why don’t you just stay here and I’ll grab a few things. Anything in particular, or just tissues and NyQuil?”

“Dyquil is just schndapps,” Bucky grumbles, then his brain catches up a little and he says “tissues,” fervently, and then it catches all the way up and he says “wait, ndo way are you buyig!”

Steve cocks an eyebrow like a handsome jerk. “You really wanna go in there?” With your current nose situation? He’s kind enough to not say.

He casts about for a moment—“Grab me a little pack and then I’ll go in!”

Steve gives him a skeptical look and says “Sure,” in a way that makes him think his orders won’t be followed, but he’s too busy squishing his nose more firmly and silently begging it not to make him sneeze again to keep arguing, or to protest when Steve opens the door for him and puts his car keys in his hand before dashing into the store with a promise to be quick.

He’s back not even ten minutes later, by which time holding his nose plugged and not letting his sneezes out has put Bucky in a state of perma-misery, stifling relentless sneezes every few seconds, unable to keep his eyes fully open. Steve tosses a box of tissues onto his lap before he gets all the way into the car because he is a saint.

“Guh,” Bucky says gratefully, pulls out a wad of about ten, and lets the miserable sneeze that had been building out into the nest of forgiving softness. “HehgSHOOmpff!!” And then blows his nose forever. Finally he feels like he can speak and have a face again; the little drugstore bag is now home to a dozen nasty used-tissue balls. “Well,” he says as he puts the last one in there, “wish I hadn’t had a witness for that.”

Steve just chuckles. “You’re fine,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing rumble. “I grabbed you a toothbrush, and I’ve got some stuff that can fit you for pjs.”

Bucky feels like he sneezed out the last of his strength. “You’re way too nice.” He sniffles and slumps against the window, looking at the familiar blur of orange streetlight. “I should be more worried you’re a serial killer.” Steve chuckles again, and he likes that, so he goes on, “Probly got a nice Jeffrey Dahmer setup at your place. Sorry if I don’t make a good steak.”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Steve replies, sounding indignant. Then laughs for real, shaking his head, “I’m not gonna chop you up and eat you, I swear.”

“It’s fine. Just mbake mbe into soup,” sighs Bucky. That would be warm. He’ll just be a big hot pot of Bucky, and Steve will stir him and season him so carefully with his big strong hands. This is a weird train of thought. He might have a fever. But he can still hear Steve chuckling.

Steve pulls into his parking spot and the car shudders to stillness as he takes his key out of the ignition. Next to him, Bucky is asleep with his head mushed against the window. He’d conked out for the last five or so minutes of the drive. “Hey, Buck, we just got to my place,” he says softly, trying not to sound too bedroom-y. His eyes flutter open, the blue of them standing out, and Steve takes a steadying breath because Bucky is so good-looking it catches him off guard and overwhelms him sometimes.

His eyes are glassy-bright and there’s a flush high on his cheekbones, and as he shifts upright in his seat Steve reaches over and touches his forehead without thinking about it. It’s noticeably hot, but not burning. The twins’ childhood bouts with the flu gave him a sense of bad-fever heat. “Think you got a temperature,” he murmurs sympathetically. Bucky just blinks up at him, a little wide-eyed, and only then does he realize his big meaty hand is practically covering half his face. He feels himself flush to match Bucky, and for a second they just look at each other.

Until Bucky sniffs a miserable liquid sniffle and they both almost jump. “Sorry,” Steve mutters awkwardly, and Bucky’s saying the same thing at the same time. They both move to get out, “Just one flight of stairs up.”

“huh—tschumpf!” is Bucky’s answer, his nose buried in a new handful of tissues. “huhh, hUH—huh.” The second sneeze fizzles, leaving him blinking and frowning and wrinkling his nose snifflishly against the ticklish haze as he shuts the door. “Fuck. Sorry, scuse mbe.”

“Bless you.” It’s probably not normal to find someone so sick so adorable.

Steve leads him up and along the hall and then he’s unlocking the door, feeling giddy that he’s letting Bucky into his apartment, and then guilty for being excited, when the poor guy is just hesitantly accepting a much-needed favor. Bucky trails in behind him and then stands still while Steve sets the bag from the drugstore and started to turn to him, saying, “It’s not much, but—”

“ASHHOO!” Bucky’s sneeze interrupts and snaps him forward into his tissues, and then he just stays folded over for a second like it sapped the last of his energy. Then he straightens, rubbing his nose into the tissues and sighing. “Jesus, sorry,”

“Bless you! You don’t have to be sorry, you’ve just got a cold.” Steve has to hold himself still to keep from rubbing his back.

“You’re...hh-huh….? Snfff, ugh. Totally gonna catch this, I owe you way mbore apologies.”

“I won’t hold it against you,” he chuckles, toeing his shoes off. Bucky follows suit and he continues, “I stopped caring after raising toddlers, they’re little germ factories, you catch everything.” Why’d you bring up your old-dad status, Steve? “I’ll grab you some things to sleep in.”

An hour and one confrontation about Steve giving up his bed later, Bucky is ensconced on his couch like the king of cold-medicine commercials, surrounded by blankets and pillows and tissues and steaming cups and bowls. He feels a little more human, which is nice, but lets him access how incandescently awkward he feels at being rescued from his idiotic life like a snotty Cinderella. Steve has been flitting back and forth between the couch and kitchen, fussing over him to a truly excessive degree while exuding satisfaction and cheer, like some kind of calendar-model Santa with a caretaking kink. He was practically rubbing his hands together at the prospect of getting Bucky blankets and tea on his couch. Now he’s giving a rundown of his TV system standing next to the couch and it feels the tiniest bit manic and Bucky can feel himself getting a little too quiet but he can’t help it. After a minute Steve notices, and sets the remote down.

“I should stop babbling at you and leave you in peace,” he says with a bashful chuckle, turning to leave the room.

“No, I— you don’t—” Bucky doesn’t really have a response beyond ‘please chill out and hang out with me and let me picture cuddling with you,’ which will not be said aloud.

“You really don’t hafta feel like you need to entertain me, Bucky.”

“It’s not, I don’t,” he sighs and then sniffles. He doesn’t want to sit here and stare at the wall and stress about this, alone in this room in Steve’s goddamn apartment. He maybe should have thought about just how much he’d fallen for Steve before taking him up on this offer, because the concern and sweetness and fussing are starting to ratchet up his anxiety, because what if there was a chance it meant—

“Is anything the matter?” Steve crouches smoothly to be on his level and torment him with his eyes’ blueness. When all Bucky can do for a moment is flounder he looks more concerned, and a little downcast. “I really don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. If anything’s bothering you, you can just tell me.”

What the hell is an ordinary sinner supposed to do in the face of this much sincerity? Act like he thinks he’s a damn grownup, Bucky guesses, and girds his nervous loser loins.

“Why’re you—” he starts, frowning, then cuts himself off and tries again with a small, apologetic smile.

“It’s just...this is such an imposition, and you seem...kinda weirdly happy about it? I just don’t get why.”

One side of Steve’s mouth quirks up, making him look dry and self-deprecating and unfairly handsome. “You’re worried I’m gonna start talkin about Scientology, or put you in my basement dungeon?”

Bucky shrugs. “Kinda.” Just ‘cause he went home with strangers didn’t mean he had no sense.

Steve seems to cast about for an explanation, and he also starts to turn pink. “It’s—you’re just so—” and then he sighs and sits on the end of the couch, next to his blanketed feet, addressing his words to the wall in a rush. “Honestly, Bucky? I have a huge crush on you, and,” he laughs in embarrassment, decidedly blushing now, “I’m just real happy to have a chance to take care of you in whatever little way.” Now he does turn to look at him, pained. “I’m sorry, that must be so uncomfortable to hear. I promise you’re not my hostage! Please don’t make a break for it, it’s cold out and you’re so sick. I swear I’m not Cathy Bates in Misery.”

“Y—hihdsschuh!” The sneeze catches him by surprise, but he has wadded-up tissues in his hand already anyhow. He has to blow his nose, and he does it thoroughly to buy time. Steve stares stoically at the ceiling as though waiting for sentencing. Is this seriously Steve telling Bucky...he likes him?

“You…” he stops, sniffs. He needs a plan. He doesn’t have one. His mouth is gonna keep moving anyway, “You said, ‘you’re just so—‘, what were you gonna say?”

Steve looks confused for a second, and then just helpless. “Bucky, you’re just so sweet. I’m happy for a chance to do something for you because I owe you, you get that, right?”

“Owe me?” Bucky asks, nonplussed. Steve laughs with what seems like disbelief at his confusion.

“Yes, Buck! For the last few months! For taking pity on me that first night I came into Sam’s. You asked me a question about antifreeze.”

“Yeah,” Bucky murmurs. His world is rearranging itself. Steve remembered that?

“I feel—real self-conscious, I guess, coming into the “scene,” he gives it air-quotes and Bucky’s heart swells a little more, “by the route I have. Y’know, married dad who woke up one day and realized the stuff he repressed at sixteen might be the real him. Sam’s was the third place I tried to go into. I just felt so ridiculous, I still do— 39-year-old brand-new gay dude, it’s idiotic. I was practically gonna have a panic attack, I was definitely gonna leave and not try again and just...stop trying in general, maybe, to figure this new scary shit out. Except you were there, this—this smokin-hot guy, and you’re acting like you actually want to talk to me, and… so I stayed. And came back.” He looks Bucky in the eyes and it makes Bucky’s stomach clench. “I feel like you’ve been taking care of me this whole time, helping me ease into things, helping me not to feel bad about being completely uncool, asking me about stuff I actually know about instead of laughing at me because I’ve never heard of ‘poppers’,”

At that, Bucky has to give in to the giggle bubbling out of him, which inevitably leads to a short coughing fit. His first instinct is to keep laughing, rake Steve over the coals, but Steve is looking at him with a careful sort of expression, and it occurs to Bucky that just because he’s older and seems like he has it all together and has great posture doesn’t mean he’s immune to feeling vulnerable. And he looks like he’s feeling really fucking vulnerable right now. Acting like Bucky is worthy of this adorable schoolboy crush is absurd, but it’s not like it was so many eons ago that little baby Bucky Barnes was having his First Gay Bar experience, and he’d been scared as shit.

He already feels like he missed the boat on his life. Steve is starting over at 39. He’s so fucking brave. Bucky...somehow, unthinkably, Bucky is in a position where he could really hurt this guy.

“I’mb, umb. Snfff. Thing is, I’m a little surprised…” And Steve must think that’s the prelude to rejection because he pulls this sad little smile onto his face that’s the worst thing Bucky’s ever seen, and he has to make it go away, “It’s just, to hear you tell it I took pity on you and I’ve been talking to you to, like, guide you along and coach you because I’m some saint!” He smiles, starting to feel amused. “Steve— I just wanted some reason to talk to you, dude.”

Steve blinks at him. “What?”

He has to laugh, putting his forehead in his hand. “Sorry. I, just, I have not been operating under the assumption that I had a chance with you? And now it sounds like you’re telling me I do? While I sit on your couch filling your trash can with my disgusting tissue mountain?”

All he gets from the man is “...Huh?”

“You said ‘crush’,” he insists, and he’s not laughing, his heart is pounding actually. “What did you mean by that?” He’s gonna awkwardly say that he wants to fuck, and once that box is checked in his Gay Awakening, he’ll move on to actually date people actually in his league, and that’s maybe not gonna feel great, but, well…

Steve looks up from staring at his hands, makes eye contact, and he looks a little confused and a lot like he’s facing a firing squad. “I meant, I mean that…” he blows a breath out. “Jesus I have no idea what I’m doing. I mean that I’ve been trying to work up the courage to ask you out on a date, since pretty much the first night I met you.”

Bucky’s head does a record scratch and Steve scoffs and rolls his eyes, “But I guess instead I kidnapped you when you were sick and blurted this out to you while you were trapped on my couch waiting to be left alone to sleep. I was never smooth but I swear I’ve done better than this.”

A giddy feeling is rising up in Bucky’s chest, making him forget completely about how tired and crappy he feels. “Well, I am smooth,” he says, “I’ve got game. At least, I did, until you showed up and turned me into a giggling bimbo. What the hell, Steve.”

“This is starting to seem like a romantic conversation but I can’t tell,” murmurs Steve with his face still uncertain but a little twinkle in his eye.

Bucky’s nose is gonna ruin this, he’s surprised it gave him that long a grace period. “Yeah, snfff, real romantic, I’mb gonna—hih—fuckin’ sndeeze—heh-heTShoo! Againd.”

Another sneeze teases out, and then he has to blow his nose for about ten years. “Bless you,” says Steve all quiet and bedroomy in his deep voice, and he’s definitely smiling, sparkle-eyes, leaning towards him the tiniest bit, but still looking like Bucky’s leaving him hanging a little, unsure, and he can’t help the wave of doubt he feels.

“Steve, you—” he stares at the blanket on his lap. “I’m a mess. You’ve accomplished shit, you have a real goddamn job, I—I’m just, ok, we’re both adults, but I feel like a screw-up kid compared to you.” He takes a deep breath and says what he doesn’t want to, “I’d be...pretty damn flattered if you wanted to hook up. I kinda can’t imagine you actually want to date me.”

He dares to look up and Steve looks more serious. He doesn’t say, “no shit.” He says, “I won’t argue if you say you don’t want anything, but I sure don’t agree with how you describe yourself. I don’t want to hook up—at least, not just that— I want to date you, get to know each other better, because I like you. I trust my judgement, when I think someone’s a good person.”

He says it so simply, and Bucky finds himself believing it despite himself, and a warm happy fire is kindling under his ribs. “Well, shit,” he murmurs, “it’s starting to seem like you’re asking me out.”

“It’s...starting to seem like you might be saying yes? If I am?” Steve looks agonized and Bucky’s doubts are no match for the giddiness fizzing up inside him, and he lets it show on his face with a grin, and whatever that looks like makes Steve kinda gulp and scootch up closer to him. Bucky makes a show of giving a slow, considering nod. Yes.

Steve has this soft, nervous little smile on his face, but his eyes hold something weighty, almost burning, as he moves even closer, and it’s just, it’s really, wow, Bucky has maybe never been taken seriously in quite this way by anyone before, it makes his knees feel watery and kindles something in his core. “I know you’re sick,” he rumbles, “but I feel like I gotta kiss you,” and how is it that the softer he speaks the deeper his voice sounds? He brushes his curled fingers over Bucky’s cheek because that’s how close they are now and this isn’t really Bucky’s life, is it? “What if I was to kiss you, right now?”

It’s hard to tell with the sexiness melting his brain but he realizes Steve is actually asking, because he’s a gentleman— a gentleman Bucky wants to be taken apart and turned inside out by. “Then you would be a guaranteed victim of my plague,” he breathes. “But I wouldn’t stop you, I’m not that selfless.”

“Sounds like a dare,” Steve murmurs, and tilts his head and presses their lips together.

It’s a short simple kiss but they each give a quiet gasp at the contact, and then stay there a moment. Steve’s beard isn’t huge but he feels it, like a firm underline to the shockingly warm plush pressure of his lips. He thankfully tragically remembers that congested people can’t make out and pulls away after just a brief press of lips, but not before giving a soft lick to Bucky’s, full of promised things to come.

They sit there a few inches apart and breathe. Bucky feels like a vibrating tuning fork. He just barely stops himself from shakily saying “wow,” like a highschool virgin, but when he sees Steve looking at him with lips still parted and a gobsmacked expression he changes his mind and lets it out anyway, “wow,” with a giddy grin.

“Yeah,” Steve breathes, blinking like he got hit with a cartoon hammer, going from pink to red, and then he swoops in and kisses Bucky’s cheek, and then stands, going, “Excuse me, just gotta go...out of your sightline, and. Do something cool. And serious. No victory dances.”

…..the next morning…….

Steve could hear Bucky in the shower, sneezing three times, but not sounding—four times—nearly as heavy or exhausted as the night before. A few minutes and one loud noseblow later, he came out wrapped in a towel, mercilessly bare-chested, his nose bright red but his eyes clear and cheerful. Steve’s attention caught on his chest as his nipples tightened in the relative chill as Bucky said sheepishly, “forgot my clo-hothes—” his voice swooping to a breathy quaver on the last word, “hhh-hh-hehh—EHisSHOooh!” he turned as far away from Steve’s part of the room as possible and sneezed over his shoulder. “Snnfff. Excuse me, sorry.”

“Can I lend you some warmer stuff, just for now while we eat breakfast? There’s no way you’re not still sick,” Steve fussed, forcing himself to round the kitchen island slowly and casually instead of rushing over and wrapping him up in his arms and kissing his red nose that was twitching again. He quelled it with another sniff that sounded a lot less congested than the previous night.

“Ah, I’m ok. I felt really bad yesterday, but I slept so well,” he said with a warm grateful smile at Steve that went to his toes, “I don’t feel shitty and run-down anymore, just all, like, shnuffly.”

Steve chuckled helplessly and went over to rub his shoulder. “You’re adorable.”

“No way!” Bucky glowered, but then a few drops fell from his wet hair to his chest and neck, and he shivered into a sneeze so quick and light it sounded incomplete, “hih—tish!” followed by “ih-hihtchoo!” and he blinked, taken by surprise.

“That was... the cutest thing that ever happened,” Steve said truthfully.

“Shuddup— heh—edschoo!”

#at some point they bone and there are like snapshots of that written #just sayin #snz fic #stucky snz fic #sneeze kink fanfiction #cute sick bucky #snzfic #lots of not-snz plot but the story is still basically Bucky Has The Sneezies You Must Save Him Steve

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