#anyone having more idea - pls go ahead and tell me I'd love to make it a happy queer series! it doesn't need to be aspec only😉

[batri-jopa]

I love my life highly satisfied just being myself

(Check the OTHER VERSION too✌️)

[katsu28]

for you i'd wait forever

pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader

summary: bradley breaks things off with you before a deployment because he doesn't want you to worry about him (4.2k)

warnings: some swearing, bradley's commitment issues, happy ending i promise!

a/n: okay so from what i gathered from my googling is that tapping out is typically for new military graduates (i think?) but this idea was so cute so pls forgive the inaccuracies i have no idea what i'm doing at all <3 and also pls forgive me for the utter lack of writing since the beginning of the year, these last few months have been brutal (creatively and otherwise) but i am hopefully back!!! xx

Bradley thought he knew the tolls of being in the Navy. It was tough on not only him, but the people in his life. For the most part, he’d always put his career first. His life had always been on a set track, and although there were plenty of setbacks, he forged ahead until he got where he was today. 

And then he met you. Fell in love with you. Finally knew what it meant to have someone in his corner who was just his. Who knew him for him only, not as Goose’s kid, or Mav’s protege.

For the first time in his life, he could actually see himself spending the rest of it with you. Marriage, house, kids, grandkids—the whole shebang.

That was his first mistake. The more he thought about what life could look like with you, the more he thought about what your life could look like without him. What would happen if something happened to him and he didn’t make it back from this next mission coming up in a few weeks. 

He thought about his mom and how she lost his dad—her husband. The man she thought she’d be spending the rest of her life with. 

Bradley’s thoughts grew quite grim after that. Countless what if’s and thinking about every possible outcome and he eventually made up his mind. He had to break up with you. 

He didn’t want to. Not by a long shot. You were probably the best thing that ever happened to him in his thirty plus years of life. But deep down, he knew that it was the right thing to do. He was about to leave for six, seven months, with little to no contact with anyone who wasn’t Navy. That would definitely take a toll on your relationship. You’d never been through something like this before, and there really was no way to prepare you for what it would be like. 

You would worry about him every single hour of every single day, he knew that for a fact. Bradley barely remembered what it was like when his dad was away because he was so young, but he did remember how worried his mom was all the time.

Looking back, he understood now. He didn’t want that for you. The worry would hold you back from other things you wanted to do in life, things that brought you joy and gave you purpose. 

With the mission creeping up on him faster than he would’ve liked, he knew he had to do it sooner rather than later. 

That was how Bradley found himself on your doorstep right now, pushing down his guilt by telling himself over and over that breaking up with you was in your best interest. He hadn’t called beforehand to tell you he was coming by, so when you answered the door and beamed brighter than the stars when your eyes landed on him, he almost wanted to chicken out. 

“Hi!” You exclaimed, immediately pulling him into a warm hug. His arms closed around you out of instinct, thumb rubbing over the sliver of exposed skin at your waist, nose nudging its way against your neck the way he always did when you embraced him. 

He inhaled the scent of the lotion you loved to use, that flowery one that sometimes made him sneeze. You always said you’d buy a different one the next time you went to the store, but you always forgot. He didn’t mind it at all though. A small bout of allergies was nothing compared to the inevitable smattering of apology kisses you pressed to his face when you realized you’d forgotten. 

Fuck, this was going to be way harder than he thought. 

Your hands made their way up his biceps to cup his cheeks, eyes darting around his face. “What’re you doing here? Oh my god, did we have something planned? I’m so—” 

“No.” He gave his head a shake, offering you a smile. “No, we didn’t have anything planned. I just…wanted to see you. To talk to you.” 

“Come in, come in, I was just about to start dinner,” You hummed, escaping his embrace with an arm hooked through his to tug him over the threshold. “Trying a new recipe I found the other day, not sure if it’ll turn out good or end up being a shitshow, but—well, you can help me be the judge of that, I guess!” 

“Is it okay if we talk first?” 

If you were confused, you didn’t show it, just changed direction seamlessly, making your way to the couch instead of the kitchen. You sat down, patting the cushion next to you for him to settle on and he did, rubbing his clammy palms against his thighs. 

“Is everything okay?” 

Everything was far from okay, he wanted to say. Instead he inhaled a deep breath before his next words. 

“I wanted to tell you I’m shipping out in a few weeks.” 

Your face fell a little, but you nodded thoughtfully. “Okay. What do we do? Is there anything you can tell me? Like, what’s the best way to get in touch with you, when’s the best time, that kind of stuff? Or is sending letters better? Sorry, I feel like I’m asking a lot of questions. I don’t—I’ve never really done anything like this before, so—” 

“I think we should break up.” He blurted. 

You hesitated before answering, blinking at him like you’d somehow heard him wrong. “What?” 

“It’s hard having someone overseas for a long time, even more so when it’s a partner. It was really hard on my mom, and hard for me having to watch her worry like that for months, and I—I don’t want that for you.” He said quietly, not daring to meet your eyes until he gave his poor excuse for an explanation on why he was doing the one thing he swore he wouldn’t do to you. 

The moment he’d realized he’d fallen in love with you, he’d promised himself he would never abandon you, never break your heart or your trust, and here he was, doing that exact thing. It was tearing him apart inside. 

“I don’t want you to have to go through all that, so it’s just better if we—that we break up now. Before I go.” 

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m sorry. It’s for the best.” 

“Why are you doing this?” Your voice broke just after the last word, swallowed up by a hitched inhale of a breath that had his resolve wavering just the slightest bit. He could barely look you in the eyes the whole time, and now…he didn’t think he could stand the sadness and hurt flooding every single one of your beautiful features. 

“All the worrying and the uncertainty of not knowing what’s happening, I don’t—it wouldn’t be fair to you. I care about you too much to put you through all of that.” 

You were silent for the longest time, eyes glued to the floor as you processed the information. He thought you were about to start crying with the way your brow creased, but when you finally looked back up at him, your gaze had hardened. “Did these last six months mean nothing to you? You’re just gonna throw everything away because what—you don’t think I can handle it?” 

They meant everything to me, he wanted to say. You mean everything to me. 

If he was really being honest with himself, it was him who couldn’t handle it. Still, he forged on, thinking it best to just rip off the bandaid. He could live with being the asshole if it meant sparing you from the terrible experience of him being god knows how many miles away for months. 

“I’m sorry. I wish you nothing but happiness, Y/N. You deserve better than anything I could ever give you.” 

“You wish me nothing but happiness?” You chuckled humorlessly, shaking your head. Bradley’s eyes tracked you across the room as you paced back and forth, guilt ridden expression on full display. All he wanted to do was take all of it back; to kiss you senseless and tell you everything was going to work out, but he couldn’t. He’d burned the bridge, cut the rope. Broke your heart. He felt like the biggest asshole in the world. He probably was. “Screw you, Bradley. I mean it.”

“I’m sorry.” He repeated, for what seemed like the hundredth time. It was all he could say. 

“Get the fuck out of my house.” 

“Y/N, I—” 

You rushed at him, pushing, shoving, sending him stumbling step by step towards the front door until he almost crashed into it had he not managed to pull it open a split second before you shoved him outside. He’d never forget the look of betrayal in your eyes right before you slammed the door in his face. 

Bradley forced his feet to take him back to his car, then to drive away before he could have a chance to even try and make things better. He’d most likely end up making things much, much worse. Though he didn’t think it could get any worse with the way he was feeling about himself right now. You were angry at him, and you had every right to be. 

But had he lingered at your door only moments after, he would’ve heard the thump against the wood that was you sliding down to the floor and the sob that escaped your mouth. 

All because of him. 

-------

Bradley was happy to finally be coming back home after ages away, but then he realized it—he didn’t have anyone to tap him out this time. His mind jumped to you first, but there was no chance in hell you’d be there for him. You’d probably moved on months ago. Forgotten about him. And with Mav away on another deployment, he really had no one. 

His chest ached the longer he stood at attention, jaw clenched tighter than he meant it to be as he watched the rest of his squad get tapped out by their loved ones. Coyote’s parents, Fanboy’s sisters, Hangman’s nieces and nephews, Phoenix’s girlfriend. They were all emotional reunions, and Bradley was happy for them, he really was. But it sucked being the one with nobody there for him. 

He wasn’t expecting the soft tap on his arm when it came. He thought it was a mistake at first; someone else’s family bumping into him accidentally, so he didn’t move. But when the hand didn’t leave its place wrapped loosely around his bicep, Bradley knew it really was for him. He turned around, squinting against the blinding sunlight to see who’d come for him. 

“Hi.” You said softly, hand dropping back down to your side. He couldn’t help but let himself take you in, eyes drinking in every single achingly familiar detail of you until you shifted nervously under his intense gaze. You looked so beautiful he almost felt dizzy, just like he remembered but at the same time somehow even better. 

“You came.” He said, disbelieving. He could still hardly believe you were actually here. 

“I promised you I would.” 

“But that—that was before…everything happened. Why are you—what’re you doing here?” The last thing he wanted to sound like was ungrateful, because he was quite literally the opposite, but his mind just couldn’t wrap around the fact that despite him breaking your heart seven months ago, you still remembered what you’d promised him in the very beginning of your relationship. 

“What does it mean to tap someone out?” You asked quietly, tracing a finger along the planes of Bradley’s bare chest. Your legs were tangled under the covers, both of you still basking in the aftermath of getting reacquainted with each other again after Bradley had been out of town attending a weeklong training exercise. 

His skin was still damp with sweat, but you didn’t mind one bit, too busy exploring the expanse of muscle shifting under his bronzed skin again. “In military terms, I mean.” 

He chuckled, hiding a content smile into the hair at the crown of your head. “That’s a weird question.” 

“Humor me, Bradshaw.” 

“Yes ma’am.” Bradley stroked a rough palm down the smooth skin of your arm, taking a few beats to come up with an answer that would make sense. “Tapping out is a super long standing tradition in pretty much all military units, I think. It comes at the end of a mission, when we’ve come back to base.” 

His arm repositioned itself under your head as he scooted closer to the warmth radiating from your body, nose nuzzling deeper against you just so he could engrain the smell of your lingering fruity scented shampoo into his memory forever. 

How you still smelled so good even after your…physical activities just before this was beyond him, but he loved it. 

“An aviator’s loved ones are usually the ones to do it. Friends, family, those kinds of people. When you tap out your aviator, literally you’re releasing them from formation. But I guess it’s kind of a gesture that means…you’re home.” 

Your wandering fingers stilled against his skin, lingering right above his heart. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Go for it.” 

“Who usually taps you out?” 

Bradley remained silent. It was an innocent question, he knew that. He’d told you a little bit about his parents, and you were just curious. Still, it sent a pang of sadness through his chest whenever he thought about what it would’ve been like if they were still around today. 

He cleared his throat, sniffing once. “Usually Mav. Or sometimes one of my squad’s family. If no one can, I just gotta wait til everyone else is done.” 

“I wanna do it.”

“What?” 

“I’m gonna be there next time you come back from a mission. To tap you out.” 

“I appreciate it, honey, I do. But you don’t need to.” 

“I want to.” You said firmly, pulling away from him to prop yourself up on your elbow and look him in the eye. You looked damn serious too. He raised a quizzical brow. “You said that to tap someone out means to tell them they’re home. I want to be the one to tell you you’re home. Here. With me.” 

Bradley opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then snapped shut when no words came out. He really was at a loss for words. No one had ever done that before. Sure, Mav’s offer was always a good one to fall back on, but Bradley had never had someone he cared about as much as he did about you telling him they were going to be there for him. 

The next best thing he could think of instead of saying anything at all was to kiss you. So he did. 

He pushed himself up towards you, sliding a hand around the nape of your neck and pressing his lips against yours. Not bruisingly hard, but enough to let you know he was all in. The other hand curled around your shoulder, splaying across your back to bring you back in closer to him, until your chests were flush and you could feel his heartbeat thundering under your palm.

He was home. You were his home. 

“I told you I’d be here to tap you out, and I meant it.” You said simply, holding his gaze. “I keep my promises, Bradshaw. Even after the way you left things.” 

Red hot guilt crept its way through his chest like vines, bringing all the memories of the last time you saw each other right back up to the surface, even after how hard he’d tried to shove them all down. If there was one thing he regretted in life, it was how he left you that night. He didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself for that one. 

“I don’t even know what to say, Y/N, I—” 

“Then let me say something.” You blurted, wringing your hands. Bradley nodded instantly, still too dumbfounded to reply. “I’ve been thinking about what I wanted to say to you today for months. I don’t even know if I should.” 

“You should.” He encouraged, nodding quickly. He’d always wanted you to be able to speak your mind with him. “Don’t hold back. Let me hear it.” 

“Okay. Okay, well first of all, you’re an asshole, Bradley.” 

He nodded again. He deserved at least that much. “I am. Absolute asshole, I know.” 

“But I never stopped loving you. Even though I was angry and sad and confused as fuck as to why you would do that to me, I still loved you. And eventually, I realized that it wasn’t anything I did wrong. You were scared. Of losing me, of me losing you. So you decided it was your responsibility to pull the ripcord before you crashed and burned.” Bradley winced slightly at the comparison and you grimaced at your own poor choice in words. “I—sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“It’s okay. You’re right. You didn’t deserve that.” 

“You said you didn’t want me to worry while you were gone, well, I did that anyways.” You chuckled, like you were remembering a fond memory instead of the constant state of anxiety you’d been in. “But instead of worrying that the man I love might not make it home, I was terrified that if you didn’t come home, I’d spend my whole life replaying our last conversation in my head. Wondering if there was something I could’ve said or done so you wouldn’t have given up on us so easily.” 

“You think that was easy for me? Sweetheart, walking away from you was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in my whole life.” 

“Sure seemed pretty easy.” You scoffed lightly, only a tad spiteful. A low blow, you realized, when Bradley stiffened for a split second, but you held steady. 

“It wasn’t.” His reply was immediate and firm as could be, but somehow, that didn’t make you feel any better. “You have to understand, breaking things off was the last thing I wanted to do. But I couldn’t—I thought that if I didn’t, you’d wait for me.” 

“I would’ve waited, Bradley! I did wait for you! For you, I'd wait forever because I love you, but you didn’t even give me that choice. You made the decision on your own instead of talking to me about it. That was what hurt the most.”  

“I’m sorry.” Bradley said quietly, reaching out to take your hand. His fingers laced through yours almost tentatively, feeling so familiar but so foreign at the same time. There was a point in your life where you never thought that concept would apply to Bradley. “I never should’ve left like that, I wish I could take it all back.” 

“I think I understand now why you did it. I understand that fear that comes with the experience of losing a loved one like that. But Bradley, you’re not responsible for my feelings. And I don’t care how scared you get, I’m not going anywhere. From now on, we work things out together, no matter what you think is best.” 

“From now on? Does that mean…?” 

“You’re my home, Bradley Bradshaw.”

Bradley took your face in his hands and he kissed you, long and hard, pouring every ounce of pent up feelings he’d been bottling up for the past seven months into it. Pain, fear, love, hope—all of it. You were never one to believe in such emotion being able to convey itself through a simple physical action, but now you could honestly say you understood it. 

Your hands spread across the broadness of his back, fingers pressing into the crisp starch of his uniform like you were afraid of letting him go , even though he was home and everything was okay now. Losing him the first time made you angry. You didn’t even want to imagine possibly losing him a second time. 

He drew back, only far enough to press his lips to your forehead, hands still holding you close as could be. “Thank you for coming.”

“I don’t make a habit of breaking my promises.” 

“C’mon, I wanna introduce you to the squad.” He said softly, lacing his fingers through yours. The way he all but bounded over to the group of aviators a little ways away was almost boyish, as was the excitement in his voice when he approached them. “Hey everyone, there’s someone I want you to meet.” Bradley announced, sliding a hand around to the small of your back. 

Everyone’s eyes turned on you, conversations petering to a gradual stop as they looked between you and Bradley. You shifted nervously, suddenly feeling unsure with all the attention on you, but Bradley’s thumb rubbed along your skin, soothing you just a bit. “This is Y/N. My girlfriend.” 

The tall blond reacted the quickest, snapping loudly before aiming a finger in your direction, along with a shiny smile. “Wait, I know you! You’re the one in that photo Rooster keeps tucked in his helmet. Lemme tell you, he looked at that picture every damn day, it was like—” 

Bradley let out a very forced laugh, aiming a not-so-subtle daggered glare at the other man. “Okay, Hangman! That’s okay, I really don’t think—” 

“You’re a real saint, taking this one back. If I ever pulled the shit he did, my car would’ve been keyed to all hell when I came home.” Hangman chuckled, giving his head a shake. 

“Hangman. Shut. Up.” 

“Don’t tell me to shut up, you shut up!” 

“You’re the only one talking!” 

“Alright, alright, you’re both grown men here,” The dark haired woman sighed, turning towards you. “At least, I hope so.” 

You chuckled at that, casting a glance over at Bradley to find him already looking back at you, the back and forth with Hangman already long forgotten given the way he was smiling at you, like you were the force that made the world go round. Taking you in under his arm, he dotted a kiss to your hairline as your fingers came up to intertwine with his again, watching you interact with his squad like you’d known them for years. 

It was everything he ever wanted. And now that he had it, he’d never be dumb enough to let it go again. 

His mind drifted back to his parents’ fate— how they never got to live out their life together. How there was no guarantee about anything when it came to Bradley’s own fate with you.

And sure, it was scary to be so uncertain about the future, but you’d both climb that hill together when the time came. For now, Bradley could let himself be content. This second chance at a life with you wasn’t one he was planning on taking lightly, not by a long shot. 

“Let’s get off this damn carrier and hit the town! Drinks at the Hard Deck, last one there buys the first round!” Hangman’s drawling voice drew Bradley out of his thoughts, just in time to let the words sink in.

You, on the other hand, stifled a giggle at the sight of seeing a group of full grown adults scatter as fast as Bradley’s friends did. Watching Hangman nearly shove Coyote to the ground upon seeing their cars were parked next to each other was something you’d never not get a kick out of. 

But Bradley, he didn’t seem as worried about it all. In fact, he walked leisurely with your hand firmly in his, swinging both of them between the two of you as you made your way to your own car. 

“Aren’t you worried you’ll be the last one there?” 

“I’ll buy the round, I don’t care.” He shrugged. “I wanna spend some time with my girl.” 

“Your girl.” You hummed, giving his hand a squeeze. “Gotta say, I’ve missed hearing that.” 

“I’ve missed saying it. We’ve got a lot to catch up on, honey. Starting with, do you or do you not have a voodoo doll made in my image that you stabbed with pins when I was away because I broke your heart?” 

You scoffed, letting out a not so attractive snort. “Bradley, I mean this in the most respectful way possible—what the hell are you talking about? Where would you even get that idea?”

“I—uh, I had a dream about it? A few weeks into deployment.” He admitted sheepishly, cheeks burning red in embarrassment. You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh. “You don’t, right?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You replied, giving his chest a firm pat. You didn’t have a voodoo doll of him, of course, but playing along was worth it just to see Bradley squirm. 

“Wait, wait, wait, but you didn’t say no.” 

“I didn’t.” 

“So you do?” 

“I didn’t say that either. But if you’re not sure, I’d watch yourself the next couple weeks.” 

His brows furrowed in confusion and a bit of fear as he watched you walk away from him with some bounce to your step. “I…really don’t like the sound of that. Hang on, get back here. Explain, please!” 

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[musicalpancakes77]

Hello hello, I've been tagged by @indigowallbreaker for a fun WIP meme :] Figured I'd do it while the tag was still fresh before I'd forget LMAO

RULES: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

This is about to be so funny and obscure because some of these titles are incomprehensible without context LMAOOO I have a few different wips (some are. half abandoned,,, i love them all very much and im so determined to come back to them or rework them someday), but let's start with Ace Attorney:

MMmmmmnesia

Shenanigans of Lady S

GHOST AU GHOST AU

Prosecutor Sibs AU uwu

Ahahah That Other AA Idea I Had

I told myself I wouldn't but here it is LETS GO BOYS

For Professor Layton, the fandom that surprisingly got a large number of Active wips from me:

Besties the House Arrest AU

PL Soulmates bc there isn't ENOUGH

PAPERCLIP LOVERS UNITE

Ranlay Attempt?? Eh???

PL Christmas fic because we ARE Desmond simps yes I'll write this fuck you

A very brief shout out to my outline of a Ghost Trick fic (which I've spoiled part of the title for because of literal spoiler reasons. im not spoiling anyone on this game are you kidding me?? oooo you want to play ghost trick so bad oooo!!!):

World's Most Haunted *** Moments

I'm not really counting them, but shout out to my active Lazytown fic that I SWEAR IM WORKING ON I SWEAR IT I AM IT WILL BE DONE THIS YEAR that goes by the name "Past LT somethin somethin" and my first fanfic's rewrite that is barely considered a wip to me that is named "I'll Leave AGAIN", and lastly a blank document for a BNHA Toshinori Yagi fic that I meant to get around to but never did beyond titling it "BNHA Good Toshi Fic if I Ever Get Around to It" :)

I do not know that many people- or more accurately idk how many people I know who are actively working on something- so I will tag the few people I know for sure who are writing and who may have wips! If I didn't tag you but you'd really like to do this, go ahead, you've officially been tagged 💕

@4ragon @rivalsforlife @xbydefault @nebul-anna (I think you just got tagged for this?? sorry if you did LMAO) @transannabeth (if this isn't the blog name you normally do these kinds of memes on, then sorry! 😭 Took a shot in the dark!) @jfkisonthemoon @ibroughtyoumybullets-ningy

[wikiangela]

911 lone star 4x05

it seems that the season is finally picking up, and this is my fave episode so far 😂

more thoughts and spoilers ahead!

jfc Rob Lowe is so good in comedic roles fr, I think that's why I enjoy Owen now, because he gets funny stuff 😂 that scene was so funny 😂

the boy calling about the math problem was so adorable, and Grace's reaction was even more adorable, she's so fucking cute I can't 😩😍😍 that smile with a nose scrunch??? 😍😍😍😍

"not a math whiz, just a math fan" SAME I love math, I miss it, why did I go study English at uni lmao

we should see more of the 911 dispatchers, like we do in the og - like, I'd love to at least learn like 3 names of something 🙄😂

ngl, I have no memory of this paramedic they're talking about 😂 (also, the music in this scene is kinda loud isn't it? like the drums or whatever? idk, it makes my head hurt lol)

waaait, I knew it was a more Marjan focused episode from the promo, but... someone complained about her to HR???? what the fuck about, she's a delight 😂

oh my god the lady from the mobile home?? over the word "crazy" when Marjan saved her life?? seriously?

we're focusing a lot on Linus, huh - I bet something bad is about to happen (clearly something's wrong with the mom, and I'm anxious waiting to see what haha)

jfc it was one stupid word, that people used to throw around at anything and anyone, jfc I don't wanna be one of those "why are people these days so sensitive" bitches but... she saved you life lady, leave her alone

I love seeing more Marjan but I feel so bad for her

I almost forgot about this dude since the beginning tbh, I'm enjoying this episode a lot haha - no idea what his deal is but it's stressing me out

I am loving getting more of the dispatch - if this is how this season continues, I might change my opinion about it (which is that this season is kinda whatever so far, but maybe just the first four episodes were bc this is good)

I kinda like Marjan and Owen's dynamic, this is fun (pls give me more Owen and TK tho, I miss them, and I'm always a sucker for a father son relationship 😂)

this couple is so ridiculous, jfc, Owen's right, how is that guy not in jail 😂 and they want her to post an apology for calling her "crazy"? and tag their gofundme? lady, you are fucking crazy 😂😂

they're blaming the fire department, aka people who rescued her life, for destroying their home??? that dude fucking took it - oh my god they're insane and it's infuriating but also kinda funny 😂

I love Grace and Judd and I missed them, we barely saw them the last couple of episodes haha (and Charlie is the most adorable baby 😍😍)

thank God for Grace and her instincts about what's happening, and that Judd nudged her to go over there right away

also, Tommy is amazing and I love her and her friendship with Grace

Paul "notices things" - I completely forgot about that because it hasn't been referenced since like s1 - pls give him an actual storyline that includes all aspects of him, including this superpower of his 😂

Paul and Marjan are one of my fave friendships, they're really ride or die's, I just love them (also, I just love the way Paul speaks if that makes sense? I'm weird about voices and cadence and pronunciation idk 😂)

sooo, Asha's sticking around, right? 😂 they wouldn't have her know Paul from way back when if they weren't starting something here right? 😂 I'm not complaining, pls give Paul a storyline, and if it's finally a good love interest, even better haha

I'm sorry, but making such a big deal over the word "crazy" is literally so ridiculous I can't help but laugh

nooo, don't tell me she's really leaving

I'm crying

not Nancy and Mateo being the parent friends 😭😂

like, she's not gone forever is she? I'm sure she'll be back eventually... right?

okay, promo: I am so excited for this bomber storyline, it seems more interesting than the first 4 episodes of the season (like, I loved the Carlos episode - 4x04 but like... eh)

so, I loved this episode, please tell me this is when the season picks up finally, I was finally engaged from the beginning until the end, and enjoyed all of it

I did miss Carlos, and he's my fave character, but also, like I mentioned a lot already, the tarlos storyline so far with Iris etc was so fucking boring and it took a lot of time in those first episodes (and it's crazy I'm even saying that because I always say to give Carlos all the screen time 😂) so it was nice to kinda have a break from them haha and I'm so glad we're over the whole FBI thing

now, I adore Grace and I loved her storyline this eps, it was great and interesting

I feel like Asha's gonna stick around and I'm excited if they're gonna do anything with her and Paul (or just fucking give Paul some more screen time ffs)

I loved that we got more of other dispatchers aside from Grace and please keep it up, I wanna know them like we know Josh and Sue and Linda, for them to be around you know? 😂

and Marjan.... I don't believe she left for good, and I don't wanna believe that, and I get her reasoning, because fuck those people, but also.... this was just so ridiculous, do people really get that offended over the word crazy? I know it's offensive or whatever but since when it's a slur? 😂

anyway, it was a great episode for Marjan, loved seeing her more and her struggle with this whole situation, and her and Owen actually have a great dynamic, wish we'd seen more of that (if they didn't give 90% of screen time to Owen alone 🙄 I like him but sometimes it's like.... there are people who are more interesting that I wanna find out about lol)

genuinely can't wait for the next one, and it's the first time this season I'm actually looking forward to the next episode, I hope it's gonna only get better now haha

[astro-rain]

delicate; b. barnes

chapter thirteen - “sober desires & the reminiscence of a winsome smile”

delicate masterlist

word count: 4k

synopsis: wakanda gets a visit from our favorite captain, two drinks is too much rum for a reticent psychologist, and bucky knows (& feels) more than meets the eye.

pairings: bucky x fem!reader

[A/N]: this took so long to write but WHEW this chapter!!!! pls let me know what you think >:D

The knock on the outside of his hut was followed by a deep accented voice, one that he had heard before.

"Sergeant Barnes?" it called.

Quickly enough Bucky was outside, facing the king of Wakanda himself. He wasn't sure exactly what to say. You see, the majority of their past interactions included the Black Panther trying to kill him. T'Challa was kind and Bucky trusted him. It was just... a little awkward given the history.

"Your highness," he greeted.

He smiled bashfully at the title.

"I have some news for you."

Bucky's head cocked to the side, curious. News? Should he be worried? He hadn't been expecting anything.

"Captain Rogers is on his way here. He was alerted about our recent complication with N'Jadaka," he said, referring to who Bucky guessed was who Y/N called Erik Killmonger, "and he asked to come check in, make sure you're okay."

Steve was coming. His mood was immediately uplifted. He hadn't seen his oldest friend for months. It was weird to have Steve feeling the need to make sure Bucky was okay; it was usually the other way around. Nonetheless, he was excited. And he had the sudden urge to tell Y/N.

- - -

READER

"Sharon. Hey," she said into the phone.

The friends hadn't spoken since Y/N left for Wakanda - security measures since Sharon helped Steve and betrayed the... well everyone.

"Y/N!" Sharon greeted. "How is everything? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, no I'm totally okay. The Killmonger thing was more the royal family's deal than mine. I was just hiding out in some bunker with Barnes."

Concerned weaved its way into Sharon's voice. "Oh my god. Did anything happen?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, historically, stress hasn't affected him well..."

She wasn't sure why she almost got offended. "No... he was completely fine. He doesn't lose control out of nowhere and turn into the winter soldier. It's a lot more complicated than that... We were fine."

"Oh, that's good. Listen... I'm actually on my way to Wakanda right now."

"You're-... what?"

"Steve needed to check in on Bucky after Killmonger. Wilson and I are coming too."

They must all be together. It makes sense considering what happened after the disaster in Berlin, and then the airport fiasco in Germany and then... everything in Siberia.

Aw, they're in hiding together, Y/N joked in her head. She almost laughed out loud.

"Oh. Is that safe? For you? For everyone?"

"I've been careful. We've all been careful. But, things don't always go as planned. And T'Challa feels bad about putting you guys in a dangerous situation when he was supposed to protect you."

"It wasn't his fault."

"I know. We all know. But, it's kind of his way of making up for it: letting us stay so that Steve can check in on Barnes and we can cool off for a bit."

"Was Rogers mad?"

"Well, he wasn't thrilled that his best friend was trapped alone in a country that just got taken over..."

He wasn't alone.

"...he was mostly worried," Sharon continued. "Still is."

"Right."

"Alright, well I got to go. We'll be there in a couple hours."

"I'll see you. Be safe."

"See you."

- - -

BUCKY BARNES

"Hey Buck," the happiness in Steve's voice was genuine as he patted his oldest friend on the back in the middle of an embrace. "How you been?"

"A hell of a lot better than the last time I saw you, that's for damn sure," Bucky smiled.

Sam Wilson stood next to the star spangled man with a plan. Bucky briefly glanced at him.

"Wilson," he deadpanned.

"Barnes," he returned the greeting.

"I was worried when T'Challa told me about Killmonger," Steve said. "Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful that they let you stay here, but I just didn't think I'd have to be worried so soon."

"It's alright. Everything turned out okay and I was fine the whole time. You don't have to lose your head."

"I'm not losing my head."

"You never had it in the first place."

The blonde changed the topic of conversation.

"You were with that therapist right?"

"Yeah."

"What do we think about her?" he asked with equal parts caution and suspicion. "Do you trust her?"

Bucky wasn't sure why he was almost offended.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

"Well, you know what happened the last time you were with a psychiatrist..."

"Yeah well, this one doesn't have a personal vendetta against the Avengers."

"You sure she's alright?"

He looked serious, and Bucky could see the genuine concern etched into his friend's face. Steve was truly wary.

"I'm positive. She's helped so much since I've been here. I really trust her."

"Okay, if you say so. I trust you."

Bucky smirked. "Hey uh... is Sharon with you?"

Sam said nothing but radiated a smirk to match Bucky's perfectly, a kind of smirk that only a ball-busting best friend cracks.

"She is..." Steve replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh nothing. Just wondering, that's all."

"She said she wanted to talk to a friend."

"Oh, she's probably with Y/N."

"Who?"

"Y/N. Dr. Y/L/N. 'The therapist.'"

"I didn't know they were friends."

"Why do you think Sharon recommended her?"

"She said she knew 'the best' person to help."

"That true. She's crazy smart."

"As long as she can do the job, I'm all for it, no matter whose friend she is."

In a short-lived thought, Bucky wondered what Steve Rogers would think of who else Y/N was friends with. He wondered if Steve would think it was strange to be friends with your doctor, or if he'd be pleased that Bucky had gotten close to someone, anyone else in this world.

"How long are you guys staying for?" Bucky asked.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. "Honestly, we were only planning on staying for like a week or so. We've been moving throughout Europe, and the other day, when we were in Prague... it was almost really bad."

"We need to stay low for a while," Sam added.

"What did you do?" Bucky asked, used to Steve getting himself into trouble.

"It's a long story..."

"What did T'Challa say about it?"

"He said to take as much time as we needed," Steve filled him in.

"You know, I'm startin' to really like this guy," Sam nodded, smiling. "Obviously when he went all cat murderer on you, he was a bit of a pain in the ass. But now? Guardian angel."

Bucky shook his head at Sam's nonsense. What an idiot, he thought. He wondered what Y/N would think of Sam, but then a more pressing question popped into his head.

"Where are you guys gonna stay?"

"I'm guessing there," Steve said pointing behind Bucky.

When he turned around, Bucky was shocked but he also wasn't. Behind and around his hut stood three more just like it, but slightly smaller. He could've sworn those weren't there yesterday, but that's the beauty of Wakanda. They were ten steps ahead of the rest of the world and he guessed that included speed building as well.

"I will never stop loving this place," he admired.

-

He tried not to sound too eager when he knocked on her door. She looked shocked but didn't really try to hide it.

"Oh," she sounded confused. "Hi, Bucky..."

"Hey," he grinned. "I have a proposition for you."

Her eyebrows lowered as her lips twisted into the most devilish smirk. She could communicate an entire joke with just her face.

"Not like that!" he exclaimed.

She laughed, smirk morphing into an endearing smile. "Like what then?"

"Steve wanted to have like a bonfire sorta thing to catch up since we're all together for once. You know, just like drinks and stupid stories from the forties. D'ya think you could part with your paper work to grace us with your presence?"

"Oh, uh... are you sure?"

"Of course. I'd love to have you there."

She wrung out her hands. "I don't know, Buck. Is that really appropriate? To have your doctor hangin' out with your friends?"

"That may be, but that's not what I'm asking. I want my friend to 'hang out' with my other friends."

Out of her composure seeped a meek smile. The air felt softer to him.

"And maybe you can analyze Wilson and tell me what his biggest fear is later," he added.

She snickered.

"Okay. Lead the way, James Buchanan."

-

The fire was a monster, roaring and crackling with all the life in the world. Bucky loved it. He loved the warmth, the heat, the lack of cold.

"I'm gonna get another drink," Y/N said. "You want anything, Buck?"

"I'm all set," he smiled, gaze lingering for only a second too long.

"Sharon?" she turned. "You?"

The blonde shook her head. "Oh, I think I've had plenty."

Surrounding the fire sat five chairs. All but one was empty as Y/N went to get her second drink. Of course they were in Sam's hut, Bucky thought. After all, even though it was Steve's idea, Sam was most excited about the whole thing, actually sitting down and just relaxing instead of fleeing from belligerent governments.

"Therapist's pretty," Sam noted with a smirk once she was out of hearing range.

"Y/N," Bucky corrected, mind going completely elsewhere. "She's so smart."

"Smart enough to call you Buck..." Steve said, catching on to Sam.

"What?"

"She calls you Buck."

"Yeah, so? You do too."

"Yeah, but I've known you longer. And I'm your friend."

"She's my friend too," he shrugged.

"She's your doctor..."

"And I'm a hundred year old man with one arm trying to get un-brainwashed in a country that the rest of the world doesn't even know exists. None of this is conventional."

"...fair," Steve said, with only a little bit of skepticism. "Are you guys close?"

Does spending hours alone talking with someone in a hidden bunker make you close? Does them comforting you after a nightmare and then subsequently allowing you to get the best night sleep you've had in forever? What about making daring voyages to quaint waterfalls and laughing a kind of laugh that makes your heart swell? What about-

"Buck?"

He shrugged. Again. "I guess so."

Sam narrowed his eyebrows. "How close?"

"Wilson," Sharon admonished exasperatedly. "Y/L/N's his doctor, come on. That's inappropriate to suggest."

Sam put his hands up in mock surrender. Briefly, just briefly, Bucky imagined kicking the leg of Sam's chair and watching him fall back. He didn't, obviously. But it would have been funny if he did.

The seemingly never ending conversation was cut short when Y/N returned, drink in hand, and took her seat next to Bucky.

"What'd you get?" he asked, demeanor subtly but swiftly changing into something lighter, something happier.

"I don't know, but it has rum in it," she shrugged sardonically before clinking her glass with Bucky's.

"Cheers," Sam raised his glass, trying to engage.

Y/N wordlessly, and with a half-smile, raised her glass in his direction.

"So," Steve started, comfortably crossing his legs and leaning back into his chair before asking Bucky, "you wanna know what actually happened in Prague?"

"Do enlighten me. I've been waiting all night."

"Jerk."

"Punk."

The rest of the night went on sort of like this. The group took turns telling stories and then listening. Cracking jokes and then laughing. Everyone but Y/N, Bucky noticed. She just... sat and drank, livelihood only extending to the borders of her seat.

He hadn't seen her like this before, and he found himself stuck halfway between confused and worried. Had something happened? Had something wrong been said?

He kept an eye on her as dusk melted into night. He told himself it was because he was concerned, but that was only in addition to the way he was magnetized to how she looked with the light of the fire gleaming on her skin.

After she would finish a drink, she'd stare into the fire for a little while, before leaving to get another. When he made sure no one was looking at him, he'd look at her. Discretely. At her eyes. The reflection of the fire in her pupils made him wonder if she would burn the fire before it could ever burn her. He was all too aware of the heat that accompanied her gaze. It was a ravishing burn that made him ache for the searing feeling as soon as it was taken away.

He didn't dare think of it for too long or else he would get distracted. And someone would call his name, pulling him out of a trance he didn't want to be caught in. A trance he wasn't sure he wanted to admit that he was in.

The night remained as such until someone - he couldn't remember who - said they were tired, and everyone bid their farewells, and wished their good nights.

Y/N spared about a side hug to Sharon before walking off on her own. Bucky half volunteered, half insisted on tending to the fire to make sure it went out, only to ignore it as soon as everyone was gone and follow after his psychologist.

He caught up to her as she was in the middle of opening the door to her living quarters.

"Y/N."

She turned around in the spot, door wide open, staring up at him.

He bore into her eyes, looking at something, noticing her dilated pupils and hazy stare.

"You're drunk," he said, but it sounded more like a question.

"Yeah."

"But you don't seem drunk?"

"I'm not wasted," she padded into the room, carelessly leaving the door wide open for him to walk through. "Just drunk enough to remember why I didn't drink in college."

She rubbed her eyes.

"Think I want another one," she sighed, heading for the door with a bitter smile. "More rum."

Bucky gently closed the door, maneuvering himself in front of it, and blocking her from exiting. Another drink is definitely not a good idea.

He changed the subject. "Why didn't you drink in college?"

Her eyebrows raised, introducing a look that said Really? You think I don't know what you're doing?

"Wow, look at you being the voice of reason for my otherwise inebriated brain."

Nevertheless, she cooperated.

She sighed. "It just... makes me miserable. I'm a sad drunk."

"Better than a mean drunk," he offered.

"Possibly. It's a real mood killer, though."

"That why you were off all night?"

"Off... ? I don't know, I guess so... I'm usually pretty inconspicuous when I'm drunk. Didn't think anyone would really notice."

There was no hesitation when he spoke.

"I did."

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't be sorry. Just... why did you keep drinking if it only makes you miserable?"

"Alcohol is a depressant," she breathed mechanically, as if speaking was difficult. "It depresses your nervous system, then you get disinhibited. Then you don't care about rationality and just drink! Then in the moment it feels kinda good... but then it makes you sad... and then you need more to blur the feeling away. It's like... the worse you feel, the more you need to drink... but then the more you drink... the worse you feel..."

"How are you drunk but still talking... sorta still like you usually do?"

She smirked, looking like she was trying not to laugh. He was glad she was smiling.

"Maybe you're not the only one with heightened metabolism as a result of the serum..."

He looked at her quizzically, amused. She wasn't making total sense, but he couldn't find it in himself to give much of a damn. She smiled, again.

"Kidding. I just have outstanding self-control."

She plopped down on the floor, deciding that she no longer wanted to use her legs. Fine motor function was overrated for intoxicated people.

He sat down with her, next to her.

"If I tell you a joke will you be less sad-drunk?"

"I already am 'less sad-drunk.' I wasn't before, but," she took a breath in, "now you're here, so... improvements have been made."

"That's good 'cause I was worried before."

She glanced up at him with brazen eye contact. Her face held a mixture of what looked like a confused and pained expression, as something changed. Some sort of realization or reality check.

She wiped her hands over her face. "God, this is so ridiculous. I'm sorry. You shouldn't be worried about me, that's not your job. I'm sorry. I should just go to bed, and you can leave..."

"I know it's not my job. I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

"I was alright- it... it's not like I was crying at the fire or something. I was fine."

"After your second drink, you were silent almost the entire time."

"You were counting my drinks?"

Not exactly.

"I was paying attention."

"To what?"

To you.

"You completely turned into yourself. Your elbows and legs were drawn in close to your body: unrelaxed and almost apprehensive posture. You were nonverbal, didn't make any jokes, no sarcastic commentary. I was literally purposefully saying things I knew you would correct or tease or laugh at and nothing. I was waiting for a 'smartass' or a 'there's a reason behind everything' explanation or anything science related. But there was nothing."

Her face was blank. It took her a second to catch up. Blinking slowly, she shook her head, eyebrows furrowed, all emphasis on the word. "Why?"

Her tone was truly confused. It was like she, in her heart of hearts, for the life of her, could not believe he was concerned.

"Y/N you're my friend," he chided. "Why wouldn't I be?"

She averted her gaze. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I don't know."

"Look," his voice was soft. "I know you know everything and you know my mannerisms and micro-expressions and you know when I'm lying and whatever else 'cause you're a genius psychologist. But is it really that hard to believe that, after all the time we've known each other, I know you a little too? That I saw you for once instead of you always seein' me?"

"I think you're the only person who sees me."

The words leaked out before he thought to analyze them, tone lower than a whisper.

"Well I can't seem to look at much else."

He had never felt such potent silence. Did he just fuck up majorly? They just sat, on the floor, eyes glued to each other like twenty year old dried cement. He didn't think he could move away if he tried.

"I see you now," she whispered.

"What do you mean?"

"Blue," she breathed. "Your eyes are so blue. I don't... think I've ever seen that shade of blue."

It happened exponentially slowly, but the closer her face got to his, the more his chest felt like it was going to burst in the best way possible. As if liquid light poured into his lungs, inflating his chest and igniting every nerve with adoration.

Her lips hovered over his so lightly it was as if it wasn't even happening, like her affection was a ghost. But it was happening, and he could feel it. He could feel the softness in her lips and the smell of the rum she drank as they combined into the wondrous dual sensation that permeated throughout his brain.

They weren't kissing by any stretch. Their lips were hardly touching. However, in that moment, he was at her mercy. He was prepared to bend the laws of nature to her will if she would allow the continuation of this feeling for even a fraction of a second more.

Until it stopped and she waned away like the moon bidding adieu to the morning sky.

Her voice shook. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't... it's-"

"No. It's not okay. It's not okay."

He leaned back, examining her face. She looked confused and embarrassed and scared.

"Y/N, it's fine. It's okay, seriously, don't worry about it."

"I'm sorry, I'm... I'm drunk and I'm disinhibited and it's affecting my judgement and making me impulsive. I'm sorry."

He couldn't be exactly sure, but it sounded as if she was trying to convince herself more than she was trying to convince him.

Neither of them moved a muscle.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked.

She was silent, frozen. It reminded him of a past conversation about the fight or flight response.

Bucky stood up and offered his hand to the woman sitting on the floor in front of him. "Here."

She took it gingerly and stood up with him before wide eyes stared into his apologetically.

"Please don't feel bad," he pleaded. "Barely anything happened."

"Still..."

"Why don't you just get some sleep and we can talk tomorrow. I promise it won't seem like such a big deal when you're sober."

She nodded but they both remained motionless, hands still together. He knew they needed to let go, but her hand didn't move, and she just kept looking into him.

"Okay," she whispered.

She walked him to the door, hand still in hand, and until he was forced to let go of her to open it. He stepped, ever so slowly, out of her room and onto the grass outside. He looked up at her, the doorway between them suddenly feeling like worlds of distance. They stood on opposite sides of the open door like statues. Bucky didn't know what to do and he wasn't sure what to say.

He settled on a, "Goodnight."

He tried not to make it sound so weak and timorous but he failed entirely. He didn't want to leave her like this. Guilty and alone. God knows he knew what it felt like.

Her voice was dry and quiet. "Goodnight."

He wasn't sure when the door shut or which one of them had shut it. The only thing he was sure of was the feeling of formidable regret pooling in his stomach.

On one hand, there was regret for letting her lean in and get so close because now he was scared that their dynamic was ruined and worried that Y/N felt awful. On the other hand, there was regret that he just let her pull away. Regret that he didn't lean in more and shamelessly drown in her. Regret that he didn't unapologetically suffocate himself with the softness of lips, the inebriating smell of rum on on her tongue, and the utterly bewitching taste of her he was sure would follow.

He wasn't sure what he felt, to be honest. He was a muddle of emotions of which he had no idea how to sift through. Momentarily, he wished he was drunk so he wouldn't have to think so hard. Then, he remembered the saying, "drunk words are sober thoughts," and he was damn glad he was stone cold sober; he could only imagine the things he would say to her if he was drunk.

This lead him to pondering, it got the gears in his brain turning. It made him wonder. Maybe... just maybe... if drunk words were sober thoughts, then what if drunk actions were sober desires?

Thinking like this could cause him read the situation completely differently. Thinking like this could make him read the situation in such a way that conceived the slightest sliver of hope for emotions gone repressed. Hope is dangerous...

Hope is dangerous, so Bucky shoved it down into the deepest cavern of his brain, the very same cavern where his feelings for her resided. It was a monster in a cave, growling and hissing menacingly. Intensely.

It scared him, this intensity. It scared him so much that the only way he could fall asleep was by thinking about the way James Buchanan sounded when she said it with a winsome smile.

delicate taglist: ​@bakugouswh0r3 @thefridgeismybestie @strivingforelegance @ilovespideyyy @xpurpleglitter @bluelakeee @darkacademic2 @nickkie1129 @eclipsedplanet @paradisedixon @crazy-beautiful @coffee--writes @lilithknight1111 @buckybarnesishot310 @softladyhours @alwayssandy @quxxnxfhxll @those-sea-green-eyes @hero-ically @devilswaldorf

[astro-rain]

delicate; b. barnes

chapter nine- “to have or not to have indoor plumbing”

delicate masterlist

word count: 2.3k

synopsis: no fallout shelter is perfect. sometimes you need to think outside the box... or outside the bunker, that is.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

[A/N]: what did you think of this chapter? what do you want to see next? PLS let me know! :))

Light did not shine through the windows and cast a bronze glow on the floor like it did in the castle quarters. He didn't hear the soft buzz of the cicadas like he usually did in the morning. He didn't wake to an empty room with familiar beautiful Wakandan tapestries.

This was because Bucky Barnes awoke in an underground shelter with no windows, stone reinforced walls, and a sleeping psychologist in the bed next to him. Somehow... this wasn't that bad.

He woke up before her, as to be expected. His body was pretty much programmed to be up in the early morning. That, and any time he slept for too long his mind conjured up remnants of horrors from the past.

The super soldier stood up from the bed and stretched his back and arm. It was quiet. A relaxed, enjoyable quiet. Y/N was still sleeping. He wondered what time it was. He didn't have a watch, and he didn't see any clocks in the bunker. He assumed she probably had her phone, but he wouldn't wake her just to ask the time.

He glanced around the room, and his eyes landed on the panther key. Perhaps he could go outside for a bit, gauge the time, scope out the area, get some sun. He never was overly enthusiastic about the sun, but since being in Wakanda, he had grown to love the warmth.

Warmth was a welcome change from the brutalizing cold Hydra put in his bones. Cold was past agony and torment, but warmth. Warmth was the rich, golden promise of remedy that gleamed on his skin.

Just thinking about it made him yearn for the outside sun and the way it enveloped his skin in amber rays. It felt safe here.

Usually, he couldn't stop his mind from worrying and expecting all the good in his life to somehow crash down around him. However, he couldn’t help but feel safe in Wakanda, no matter what he did. He felt safe in Wakanda and with Y/N, even though they were in a bunker hiding from a country's takeover-

"Bucky?" A raspy voice called out.

He turned around, not realizing he had walked over to the table, where the panther key was sitting. It looked just as regal and ferocious as it did before.

"G'Morning," he smiled.

She sat up on her elbows, avoiding hitting her head on the top bunk.

"How'd you sleep?" she asked. "Nightmares still?"

"Last night wasn't bad," he shrugged. "Still... there, but I got some decent hours in."

"That's good," Y/N yawned. "I'd like to work more on the nightmares soon. See if we can find any improvement. But don't worry, no 'Interpretation of Dreams' shit because I refuse to dignify most Freudian theories."

He let out a breathy chuckle. Sometimes Y/N would go into what he, in his head, called her silly psychologist speech. She would momentarily forget that Bucky wasn't an academic, and use big words to talk about things he'd never even heard of. Sometimes she would slip into psychologist mode when she wasn't "on duty."

"Are we movin' the sessions out here now?" he joked.

"Damn," she snickered. "My bad. No more psych talk in here, I promise."

"It's alright, I don't mind," he shrugged. "S'just you bein' you."

"I guess. I don't know to be anyone else, so."

“I would expect nothing less of you.”

Y/N then moved the blanket off of her legs to stand up out of the bed, just before stopping short, staring at the bed she was sitting on. He could almost see the gears turning in her head.

"Did I make the bed last night in a frenzy of exhaustion and not remember it?"

He laughed. "No."

She furrowed her brows and cocked her head to the side, confused and waiting for an explanation.

"I made it - well, as best as I could... all things considered."

Her face changed, melting into an endearing look of gratitude.

"Thank you Buck," she smiled. "Way better than sleeping on the floor."

She didn't say anything else regarding it, and he was glad. What she didn't know was that he put her in the bed after he made it. She was so exhausted, he didn't want to wake her. The task proved itself exceptionally challenging with one arm. However, super soldier strength and determination was a worthy advantage.

"Do you know what time it is?" he asked.

"Umm," she dragged out, finally standing up from the bed. "Not sure, I'll have to find my phone and- oh shit"

"What?"

"I don't have a charger."

"Oh. I'll uh look around and see if there's one stored down here."

Y/N stood still and looked around the room. Her eyes landed on the space heater and her expression dropped.

"Bucky..."

"What's wrong?"

"Do you remember what I said yesterday about the heater?"

"Not... really. Jog my memory?"

She quoted herself. "I doubt they could get electric or plumbing out here."

"Oh yeah," he still wasn't following.

"There's no shower down here... or toilet..."

He looked around and it hit him. "Oh."

"That's..." she trailed off, "a bit inconvenient."

He saw her begin to fidget with her hands.

"What are we supposed to do?" she asked. "We can't like... pee in buckets or something."

Bucky scratched the stubble on his face, about to suggest something he knew she wouldn't like.

"Well, before you woke up, I was thinkin' about going outside to get an idea of the time and maybe get some sun. We can go out and see if we can find a fresh water source or something. It's not perfect, but it's better than buckets."

"Outside? Is that not dangerous?"

"Danger is a possibility, but we're pretty far out from the castle grounds. I doubt anyone comes out this far or even knows about the shelter."

She took a deep breathe in. "I don't know..."

He could hear the uncertainty and weariness in her voice.

"If you're not comfortable, I can just go look and come back, tell you if it's safe, if there's water nearby," he offered.

"No. I'm going with you."

"I thought-"

"You’re not going alone. I'll grab my shoes and we can go."

Well then.

"As you wish, oh wise one."

"Smartass."

He grabbed the panther key and tossed it to her with a smile.

-

"So... how does one locate a water source?" Y/N asked, her footsteps beside Bucky's.

The Wakandan sun beat down on them. They'd only been walking for a few minutes, and they were already sweating.

"Keep an eye out for mud. If the ground is wet, chances are there's water nearby."

She nodded.

"Hey," she smirked, "Have you ever heard of Bear Grylls?"

He could hear the smile in her voice.

"No, but I have a feeling whatever that is is being used to poke fun at me?"

She huffed in a fake gasp, feigning over-exaggerated shock. "I'd never do such a thing!"

"Hey! I'm doing this so we don't have to pee in buckets. A teeny tiny bit of gratitude would go a long way."

"Apologies. Please accept my most heartfelt thanks, my dear old friend."

"Who you callin' old?"

"I don't know, does a hundred seem old to you?"

"You know, it’s disrespectful to mock the elderly,” he fake scolded.

"Yeah, well don't disrespect your mental healthcare provider."

"I didn't! You started-"

"Water!" she shouted, cutting him off. “Look!”

In front of Y/N's pointed finger was the end of a tiny stream. The source was somewhere ahead of them. And so they followed, continuing their trek beneath the sun's sweltering rays. It really was oppressively hot.

-

"Holy..." Bucky muttered.

"Shit," Y/N finished.

He gave her a look and he she shrugged, fighting off a laugh.

They stood facing a beautiful scene: a modest waterfall flowed over mossy stone and poured out into a little pool of crystal clear water. It was quaint and secluded, surrounded by rocks and trees. This was wonderfully fortuitous for the two of them as they were still technically in hiding. The pool of water was relatively shallow; he could see the bottom, but it was still deep enough to submerge his whole body and them some. The pressure from the waterfall looked mild enough to go under; perhaps it could act as a makeshift shower.

"This definitely works. Much better than buckets," Y/N commented.

Then she began to untie her boots, take off her socks, and sit with her feet in the water.

"Holy hell it's hot," she groaned, wiping a hand across her forehead. He noticed that she had been squinting for the last couple of minutes. "Buck, do you know if the water is clean to drink or swim in?"

"Why don't you taste test it? Then we'll know for sure."

She turned her head to him, an emotionless expression on her face.

"I don't give a damn about the super serum, I can and will drown you, Barnes."

A laugh came from deep in his chest. "I'm just playin'. The water looks fine, you should be good."

She cupped her hands to scoop up some of the water and threw it at him.

"Hey!"

"Aw, you look so refreshed now," she cooed sarcastically.

"That was uncalled for."

"Perhaps. Hey, how long until we have to go back?"

"We're not really on a set schedule. Whenever you're ready, I guess. It's not like we have things to do."

"Do I have time to like dunk real quick? It's deathly hot and I don't wanna walk back in this heat."

Dunk in the water? There are no swim suits here...

"Oh-uh... uh y-yeah, do you want me to like... wait over there-or-“

"I’m goin’ in with my clothes on,” she deadpanned. Straight and to the point, like she didn’t want any type of confusion about the situation.

“Oh,” he breathed. “You’d rather walk back in soaked clothes?”

“Yes.”

"I mean sure, knock yourself out. But be careful, some parts look pretty deep."

"I'm know how to swim, Buck,” she smiled. “Don’t fret.”

He hummed an "okay," before looking around the entire waterfall area. Instinctively, he started walking the perimeter, making sure they would be safe. He didn't know how he hadn't done it sooner. He must've been distracted.

The soldier made his way through trees and over rocks until he returned to the spot facing the center of the waterfall pool. He watched as Y/N's head slowly ascended from the water. She opened her eyes, and as her gaze found him, confusion washed over her face.

"Bucky, aren't you hot?"

"I mean, it’s warm, but I think I'm more useful out keepin' watch."

"Are you sure?" she laughed, tossing more water at him.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, clumsily trying to jump and dodge out of the way of the water flinging at him.

Y/N shamelessly continued. "The water's just fine! It's so refreshing and cooooool!"

Bucky's attempts at dodging the water were very much in vain. Soon enough his grey shirt had splatters of Wakandan waterfall water all over it.

He only laughed some more. "Come on! You're comprising our security!"

She stopped.

"Wait- I'm sorry. Am I actually?"

His breathing slowed, but his smile remained. "No, it's okay. I just think it's safer for at least one of us to stay out and be aware. I can go in next time."

"Okay," she frowned.

At the edge of the water, closest to grass, the ground descended into layers, creating a sort of makeshift staircase that sloped into the pool. Y/N floated over to the stairs, and leaned her elbows on the second highest step so that the water settled just below her shoulders. He watched as her legs floated straight up behind her, and each edge of her clothing moved up and down languidly in the water as if they were breathing with its movement.

In response, Bucky sat down at the waters edge, removing his own shoes and socks, rolling up his pant legs and resting his feet in the pool.

"There, now we're meetin' in the middle."

Y/N spared a gentle smile.

"Buck," she asked softly, "can I ask you a question?"

His brows furrowed at the sudden change in tone. "Mm hm."

He was expecting some kind of serious question, but instead, he watched yet another mischievous smirk grow across her face.

"Don't you have to pee?"

He rolled his eyes, and splashed her with as much water as he could cup in his hand. Y/N let out a burst of loud, boisterous laughter, wiping the water from her eyes.

"Why, do you?! Do I have to worry about feeling some warm water!!"

"No! I already went..."

"Oh, ew!" he howled with laughter.

"Not like that! I did it behind a tree while you were makin' your rounds."

"Well thank you for not christening our only clean water source."

"You are quite welcome, James Buchanan Barnes."

His brain slowed at the sound of his full name. He almost didn't feel the barely-there smile that turned the sides of his mouth up ever so slightly. Time became lazy, and his line of sight came to a leisurely stop directly at Y/N's face.

He got a good look at the reflective water droplets all over her skin, and the way some were falling off while others stayed perfectly still. He got a good look at how her waterlogged eye lashes stuck together in bigger clumps, making darker shades of black that contrasted her eye color, and how her wet hair was slicked back and flowed down her neck. He got a good look at the teeny tiny drops of waterfall that settled in her eyebrows, and how he had only been this close to her very few times before.

He couldn't tell why, but he wanted to take a mental snapshot of this moment. The charming imperfection of her was so genuine, so endearing, so alluring. He found himself having a hard time finding the motivation to look away. He must be tired or something.

He hadn’t noticed how still she was as well. But then, gradually, her smile went away, and her face was replaced with a neutral but poised expression. She slowly floated back from him, putting space between them.

"Can we go back now?" she asked. "I think the sun is giving me a headache."

"Y-Yeah, 'fcourse," he said, unprepared to do anything but fulfill her request.