#randomly remembered him and went Oh....frankie | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mandoalorian · 3 years

Note

Hi 👋 hope your staying safe! Can I request something with Santi, please? Could you write something where Santi and reader used to be friends as kids, Santi having looked out for reader when she was picked on or if she fell over at school, but then after he graduated they lost contact until years later reader reaches out to him randomly and they reunite, maybe fall in love??

Sorry if it's strange, I'm going through something similar but I'm trying to get the guts to reach out to the guy, it's nerve wracking!! 😳😨 Maybe reading something will give me a boost 😂

Tinder [Santiago Garcia x F!Reader]

Word count: 1,700

Rating: 18+ I guess? I don’t know. Nothing explicit, it’s just Tinder is an 18+ app.

Warnings: food mention, tinder mention, allusions to sex

Masterlist

Tinder. It was so tedious. An app that had gained it’s reputation for being nothing more than a “hookup app” or even a “sex app”. It was associated with superficiality and laced with sexual innuendos. It was the app that had been accused of igniting modern day hookup culture. It was the app that Santiago Garcia frequented every damn day. The man even paid a premium! It was a quick and easy way for him to meet girls for drinks and a quick fuck. It’s all a man like Santiago had time for. Falling in love wasn’t an option for him. It was something he’d never considered until Games Night last week.

Once upon a time, Will’s small living room was just filled with him, Santiago, Frankie, Benny and Tom, but the head count had grown extensively over the past few years. Tom had reconciled with Molly, Yovanna and Benny had something going on, and now even Frankie was engaged to the blonde haired, blue eyed girl who sat quietly in the corner sipping tea and doodling in her sketchbook.

Santiago didn’t mind the girls. In fact, he actually enjoyed their company, but their presence only had him yearn for something more. He’d never been one to think about settling down or starting a family of his own, but he felt an indirect pressure. Maybe trying out one long term relationship wouldn’t be so bad after all? But he was so used to his flings. How was he ever going to grow out of his commitment issues and find someone he could really connect with.

Truthfully, he’d already found her, about fifteen years ago.

You and Santiago Garcia were the best of friends. You used to do everything together; walking home from school hand in hand, singing and dancing when you thought no one was around, playing LEGO and building up jigsaw’s. He was your soulmate, in every sense of the word. But you can’t stay young forever and eventually Santiago left your small neighbourly town to join the military. And you never saw him again.

Which is why it was a surprise when you, half asleep at 2 am, and drooling on your pillow, lazily swiped right on his profile. You weren’t even paying attention. Just another tanned skin man with dark brown hair and chocolate eyes. It was a haze, and your desperation to move on from your ex boyfriend had you yearning to meet someone new. You groaned tiredly, deciding you were never going to find someone as good as your ex, switched your phone off and shoved it under your pillow before finally getting some sleep.

At around 3 am, Santiago still wasn’t asleep, thanks to his roommate Frankie and his fiancée keeping probably the whole apartment complex awake. He pulled out his phone from his nightstand and checked Tinder. That’s when he saw you. Before even checking your name, he could tell it was you by that familiar sparkle in your eyes, and the way your perfect lips curled into a smile. It might have been fifteen years since he’d last seen you, but just looking at your photo made it feel like yesterday. He couldn’t contain his wide grin as he flicked through your photos. You looked just as beautiful as ever, and Santiago recalled the crush he had on you when you were both kids. He wondered how come you hadn't settled down already. He knew you always dreamed of getting married and having kids, with a big house and a big dog. So why were you on Tinder?

In a simple spur of the moment, Santiago swiped right.

‘It’s a match!’ the words blew up on Santiago’s screen and illuminated the dark bedroom. Streamers and confetti exploded around your photo; the typical thing that always happened when he matched with women on Tinder, only now it actually felt like celebrating. This meant that you must’ve swiped right on him too.

You spent the morning the same way you always did, laying in bed and checking the notifications on your different social media. Just before you were about to get up, you remembered how you’d impulsively installed Tinder the night before and, on a whim, you opened the app to see if you had matched with anyone.

You scrolled through the eight matches you’d gained through the night, frowning and twisting your face in disgust at some of the profiles. You really hadn’t been paying attention to who you were swiping.

Your eyes went comically wide when you read the name at the end of the list.

‘You have matched with: Santiago Garcia! Say hi!’

It was like time had frozen and you read the words over and over again. Santiago Garcia. Santiago Garcia. Santiago Garcia. You wondered how many Santiago Garcia’s lived in New York City - or more specifically, only three miles away?!

You hammered your thumb into your screen to view his profile and you were blown away as you went through his photos. That was definitely him. That was definitely your childhood best friend. Although his hair was once dark and curly, it was now short and slightly salt and peppered. He had a slight graze of facial hair in all of his photos, and in most of them, he was seen to be hanging out with a bunch of other guys. Wait- was that Francisco Morales too? They were still friends?

You were so nervous to say something. Truthfully, if you had come across his profile at any other moment where you weren’t half asleep, and hopelessly desperate for love, your fear would’ve stopped you from swiping right. You’d been in love with Santiago since pre-school. It had been over a decade but you still thought about him every single day and cherished those long lost moments you spent together.

But the reality was, that he’d swiped right on you too. He was interested in you as well! Which had to count for something. You took a deep breath and typed out the words “Hello :)” before quickly turning your phone off and throwing it across your bedroom.

You sat bolt upright in your bed for a few moments, contemplating what you had done. You told yourself it would be okay and asked yourself what was the worst that could happen. You sighed and forced yourself out of bed to get ready for the day ahead.

Turning off your phone was a good idea because you’d actually forgotten about messaging Santiago until about lunch time. You flicked through the television channels, holding a lazily put together sandwich in your free hand, and landed on a dating game show. You considered applying, thinking about how fun it might be, when you remembered you might already have a shot with someone else. Santiago. You dropped your sandwich on the coffee table in a frenzy, ran to your bedroom and turned on your phone. The painful minute it took to completely boot up sent butterflies rampant in the pit of your stomach.

Santiago: Hey! How you doing? I gotta say I was really surprised to see that we matched last night. It’s been a long time!

Oh my god. He’d replied. He’d replied three hours ago and you hadn’t said anything back. Shit. You wondered if you had already blown your chances, but little did you know, Santiago had been holding out for a message from you for a long time.

You: Right...almost fifteen years, I think! I’m okay. How are you?

You pressed send and took a deep breath. It was okay. Just casual small talk. It would be okay. You slid your phone into your pocket and went back to eat your sandwich. No matter how hard you tried to focus on the game show, you just couldn’t stop thinking about Santiago.

“Santi! You got a new message!” Frankie called from the other room, taking a huge, messy bite out of a candy bar and picking up his phone.

“Frankie! I’m literally on the toilet… can it wait?” Santiago cried, face palming and chuckling incredulously. Living with his best friend for five long years meant that Santiago had become accustomed to interactions like this.

“No, I don’t think so,” Frankie mumbled, knotting his eyebrows together as he read the notification that had popped up on the screen. “Hey, are you talking to Y/N L/N from high school?”

“Wh- what?” Santiago asked, feeling his cheeks flush.

“Oh my God you are!” Frankie gasped excitedly, typing in his friend’s passcode for his phone and getting inside. “On Tinder!”

Santiago finished up washing his hands and walked out the bathroom, an unamused scowl drawn upon his lips. Frankie swallowed at his best friend’s expression.

“This has to stop,” Santiago warned, taking his phone from Frankie’s hand. “I love you buddy, I really do. But you’re getting married next Summer. You can’t keep trying to talk to me while I’m on the toilet!”

Frankie laughed and rolled his eyes before getting back to his video game.

Santiago was shocked to be reminded that you had remembered exactly how long it had been since you last saw each other. He began to compose his next message. You practically screamed when you felt your phone vibrate at the notification.

Santiago: I’m well, thanks for asking. Would you be interested in meeting up sometime for a few drinks? I’d love to catch up.

Drinks. A catch up. It sounded perfect. You already found your mind racing as you wondered what to wear.

You: That sounds great!

Santiago’s reply came fleetingly.

Santiago: Are you free tonight? X

Tonight was so soon… but you were free, and it felt like you’d been waiting forever to reunite with your childhood crush. And he felt the same way. It was so exciting for both of you.

You: Tonight sounds great. See you then :) x

You and Santiago spent the rest of the day in anticipation to see one another. You didn’t know then, but the accidental Tinder encounter turned out to be the long lasting and perfect relationship both you and Santiago craved. The soulmates were reunited at last.

Taglists - let me know if you wish to be added!

Permanent: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love @hayley-the-comet @pinkninja190 @maxiarapamaya @autumnleaves1991-blog @artsymaddie @harrys-stan @kennedywxlsh @cripplingmoon @cheekygeek05 @mrschiltoncat

#santiago garcia #santiago garcia x reader #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x reader #pedro pascal #frankie morales #triple frontier #santiago pope garcia

110 notes · View notes

staticscreenwriting · 4 years

Text

The loneliest time of the year || Part one

Part 1 of 4

Summary: With a broken heart and the fear of having failed as a father, Frankie returns to his parents house for Christmas. What is supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year feels quite lonely. Though when an old friend shows up unexpectedly with her young son in tow, Frankie’s Christmas seems to gain a little more happiness. Can they help each other fight the ghosts of their pasts and overcome their fears ? A/N: This is part of my 12 days of Christmas / Advent special. Every sunday leading up to Christmas you will get another part. That’s 4 parts in total. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated.

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

Christmas time is the most depressing time of the year. Seriously, you can look that up. There’s a bunch of statistics about it and essays using long fancy words.

It’s a time that makes you so acutely aware of how lonely you actually are. And then you’re left to reflect on all the reasons why and that’s just fucking depressing.

Frankie maneuvers his car along the streets of his hometown, a light dusting of snow covers the ground and the trees to his left and right have long sharp icicles hanging from their branches like the sharp teeth of an imaginary monster that lives under your bed.

He passes by the old movie theatre, the 7/11, the diner where he got his first kiss, the red brick building that was once a printing house but has been turned into a Starbucks for some reason, and the public library that he used to volunteer at when he was in high school. There are ghosts in all the windows looking back at him. Ghosts of the boy he used to be and the memories he thought long forgotten.

This wasn’t the plan. He’s not supposed to be here. Or maybe he is. Maybe this is exactly what he deserves. To come crawling back home to mom and dad because the future he had tried so hard to build for himself came crumbling down on him in a matter of moments. And all of it is entirely his own fucking fault. If only he wasn’t such a damn mess.

“I'll have a blue Christmas without you

I'll be so blue just thinking about you.”

“Ah fuck off, Elvis!”

He turns off the radio and is left with just the quiet and his thoughts until the little blue house at the end of a cul-de-sac comes into view. This house has seen many versions of Frankie. Highs and lows. He wonders if he even knows the person he is anymore.

Across the street sits a park and then another little house, this is one red and the shutters are white and the paint is chipping. It used to sit empty for a while but there’s a car in the driveway and light coming from inside. Maybe he was wrong, maybe he isn’t the only one that changed, maybe the town did a little bit of changing too.

His mom is a hugger, always has been. Still is. At least that hasn’t changed. She has him wrapped in a warm big hug as soon as he gets out of the car. She smells the same way she did when he was a little boy. Like lavender and fresh cotton and warmth. His mom, Frankie thinks, has the ability to talk faster than anyone else he knows. Even faster than Pope when he’s drunk. She bombards him with information about various distant relatives and has him caught up on the last several years of their lives before his dad even manages to get to the door.

His dad looks older than the last time Frankie has seen him, but not in a fragile way. Age doesn’t make his dad look sickly or weak, it just makes him look wise. He’s got lines etched into the skin around his lips, from all the laughter and the smiles. Every adventure, every memory, it’s all there in his face and Frankie admires that so much. With every day passing he himself just looks sadder and more worn out.

“Darling, let him come inside. It’s freezing out here.”

Ever since he was little, Frankie knew that what his parents have was special. There was so much love in the way they talked with each other. It exuded from every word. From every look. They were a package deal. One could simply not be without the other. It’s something he knew most of his family members were envious of. Hell, he himself was envious of it.

“Hey Pops, good to see you.”

His dad wraps him in a hug as he steps into the warm house. His dad isn’t a hugger, he’s more stoic and calm but that doesn’t make him any less loving. There was never a day in his life, that Frankie ever doubted his father’s love for him. It’s just that he’s not the most physically affectionate guy, and that’s fine. When he does give out hugs, they are the best.

“Did the Murphy’s house get sold then?” Frankie questions, motioning over his shoulder towards the little red house. The couple who lived there, Margaret and Edwin, were lovely. They were the kind of old people that others just adore. Always a smile on their faces, always greeting you with the most infectious of good moods. They were already old when Frankie was a kid, but they were the kind of people you’d expect to live forever. Though death doesn’t care for any of that and eventually it came for them too. The house went to their only son, a man that always intrigued Frankie. Michael was a photographer and always on the road looking for a new adventure. He was his parents' age but there was a youth about him that made him look much younger. He always seemed like more of a friend or older brother to his daughter than a father.

His daughter. (Y/N) and Frankie weren’t friends. Not really. For that, they didn’t spend nearly enough time with each other. But whenever she would come around and spend the summers at her grandparents' place, Frankie and her would gravitate towards each other. There was an undeniable attraction, a magnetic pull. She always had the most exciting stories and for a teenage boy, there was nothing more exciting than a pretty girl with adventure in her veins.

He hasn’t seen her for a long time though, eventually, she went off to college and he joined the military. She came around less and less and then when first Edwin and then Margaret died, the house stayed quiet and lonely. Last time he saw (Y/N) was when he randomly ran into her at a bar but even that must’ve been at least 10, maybe 12 years ago.

“Oh no. Their son, Michael, do you remember him?”

“Sure.”

“He had a bad accident. Can’t work no more, needs a lot of help. You know what he was like, always on the road never really having a place he called home. Other than this house. So him and his daughter are back here. Do you remember her?“

“ (Y/N), yeah.”

“She’s moved back too. Gave up her entire life to help her father. Poor thing now works at the diner waiting tables for a living all the while taking care of Michael and her young son.”

“She has a kid?”

A sting of pain runs through his heart. Big brown eyes stare up at him in his mind, eyes that look so much like his. Eyes he couldn’t wait to see sparkling from joy on Christmas morning. Eyes he ain’t allowed to look into anytime soon.

“Yes, a little boy. Leo, he’s 7 years old. So well behaved and smart. Such a lovely little boy.”

A warm mug of coffee is thrust into Frankie’s hand as his father guides him to sit down on the big couch in the living room that’s been there ever since he was a kid.

“We invited them to come around for Christmas Eve dinner which reminds me that I still need to get a present for the boy.”

“Darling, it’s December 5th we still got time.”

Despite his heart laying in shambles by his feet, being around his parents sends a warmth through Frankie. It’s so familiar and comforting to be here. Maybe this isn’t all bad. Maybe this is exactly what he needs.

On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me: One sweet reunion.

Frankie sits on his old bed in his old room. There are fewer posters there and the wall that used to be painted a dark blue is now a soft peach color. The old dark wood furniture has been replaced by white cupboards and two beds, both white too. An adult-sized bed for him and a toddler bed for Rosie. Little butterfly decals decorate the walls and soft pink curtains hang before the window. This is more Rosie’s room that’s his now, only she isn’t here to see it.

A knock on the door shakes him from his daydream. Voices echo through the halls and up the stairs. Voices he doesn’t recognize but by the tone in his mother’s words, he can tell they’re friendly faces.

“So we thought maybe we could borrow your car.”

Frankie sees her before she sees him. Had he not knows she was in town, maybe he wouldn’t have recognized her. (Y/N) looks older. Not old. Just more mature. She must be in her 30s now. Grown into her body. A mother.

“Of course dear, Frankie can help you get the tree if you want. We still need one ourselves anyway. Two birds one stone.”

“Frankie is home?”

(Y/N)’s voice shines with a glimmer of hope.

“I am.”

A smile spreads on her face, and that one he recognizes so well. It’s equal parts mischievous and warm. Familiar and comforting. Sassy and soft.

“Oh man, it’s so good to see you. It’s been some time, huh ?”

“Sure has,” he replies and the two of them share a quick hug. She’s cold from the air outside and smells like winter and snow. Her hair is hidden beneath a beanie and her fingers are kept warm by some fluffy blue mittens. She’s adorable. So fucking adorable.

“So, you want help getting your Christmas tree?” Frankie asks as she pulls away, missing the softness she brought.

“Well actually I was just asking to use your dad’s car but since you’re here, would you mind helping out ?”

“ Course not! We need a tree anyway and I’ll have you know, I’m great at finding the best Christmas trees.”

“That so?”

“Sure is.”

Another big smile spreads on (Y/N)’s lips. “Okay cool. Let me know when you’re ready. Leo and I are free all day.”

“That’s right, you have a kid now.”

There’s an infinite sense of pride that washes over her face. He knows the feeling, sees it in his own mother when she talks about him. Feels it in his heart when he thinks of Rosie.

“Frankie has a baby too, little girl.”

His mother means well. Doesn’t matter though, the mention of her still sends a pant of pain through him. Right to his heart and then it spreads slowly but surely to the rest of his body. Like an ice pick melting slowly.

“You do? Oh, I can’t wait to meet her.”

His heart breaks. Shatters. Crumbles.

“She’s uh — she’s with her mom for Christmas.” And pretty much any other day too.

“Huh, well I guess you’ll just have to tell me all about her then. “

He appreciates this. Her not asking but just taking the situation for what it is. Questions ask for answers he can’t give, doesn’t want to give.

“I can do that.”

“Okay great. Let me bother you no longer, just come knock on our door when you’re ready. You know where I live.”

With a wave and a smile, she makes her exit and steps back into the cold. Snow now falling in big white flakes from the skies, like big bubbles of soap. Like star fragments.

“She’s such a nice young woman, I wish life was a bit more gentle on her. “ his mom spoke up from beside Frankie.

“Yeah. Yeah, me too mom. Me too.”

When he steps out of the house a few hours later, the ground is already covered in a thick coat of fluffy snow. His boots leave deep prints in the pristine white blanket.

Across the street, he can hear a melody of laughter flowing through the air before two figures jump out from behind the house, wrapped in warm clothes, throwing snowballs at each other.

“Mom you’re cheating!” The young boy, Leo calls out, laughter ringing along with his words.

“No way! Nu-uh.”

“Yu-uh! “

The exchange puts a smile on Frankie’s face. It reminds him of his own childhood. When the world didn’t feel like it was working against him. When it was kind. When things were easy. When he was happy.

Realizing neither of the two has spotted him yet, Frankie squats down and gathers some snow in his glove covered hands. In a swift motion, he pulls his arm back and throws the snow in (Y/N)’s direction hitting her right in between her shoulders.

“Hey!”

There’s a second where anger and confusion reign over her face and then she realizes it’s Frankie who threw the snowball and it melts into warmth and mischief.

“I’ll get you back for that, dude. “

“That a threat?”

“Nah, it’s a promise.”

The boy regards them with careful curiosity.

“Leo, come here. This is my friend Frankie.”

To be quite honest, Frankie hadn’t really considered himself a friend of (Y/N) but to hear her introduce him as such felt real nice. He had friends, good friends, brothers even. Pope and the Millers knew him like the knee themselves but this was different. This was home.

“Frankie, this is my son Leo.”

The boy is all (Y/N). Same smile, same eyes. Like a copy and paste.

“Hey, Leo, nice to meet you.”

The boy gives him a shy wave. “Hi.”

“You guys ready to get some Christmas trees?” Frankie asked, looking from (Y/N) to Leo and back to her. The excitement on their faces makes him feel a little giddy.

Back when he was a kid, buying a tree was one of his favorite things to do during Christmas season. His dad always used to wake him up real early so they could be one of the first people at the Christmas tree sale. They’d stay for hours looking for the perfect tree. Now perfect didn’t mean it had to be actually immaculate. Perfect meant perfect for them. Sometimes they’d decide to find the fastest one or the one with the biggest hole. One time they found one with a bird's nest still inside.

Those were the good times and Frankie, knowing now how harsh life can be, will never take them for granted.

On the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me: Two perfectly imperfect Christmas trees.

“Too big.”

“Too small.”

“I can literally count the branches on one hand.”

(Y/N), Frankie realizes as they look at what feels like the 12 millionth tree, is very particular when it comes to her Christmas trees.

“Mom, can we just pick one? They’re all good!” Leo chimes up as his mother dismisses yet another tree for being too skinny.

“I just want it to be perfect. When I was a little girl my dad and I were always traveling and when we’d come to my grandparents for Christmas they’d have this big beautiful tree every year. I want my dad to have that again.”

There’s more there, he can tell. By the way, her voice shakes slightly and the determination and chaos raging in her eyes. Frankie has yet to find out what exactly happened to her dad, what kind of accident he got in. But it’s not really a conversation starter now, is it?

Leo’s eyes meet Frankie's, a clear message traveling between them. A silent understanding.

“Look (Y/N) how about we let you roam this place in peace until you’ve found the perfect tree and Leo and I go see if we can find one for my parents? “

Leo nods his head in enthusiastic approval. A smile playing on his lips that is so strikingly similar to the one Frankie has seen so many times on the boy's mother.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, two of us are gonna find a perfectly imperfect tree for my folks and you go find the tree of your dreams. Just call if you need us, okay?”

She takes a breath, lets out a sigh. “Okay sounds good. Leo?”

“Sounds good to me too, mom.”

“Okay. Well, you boys have fun then.”

As she rounds the corner in search of the tree straight from a Christmas fairytale, Frankie turns to Leo who regards him with a guarded kindness.

“Thank you. “

“ For what? “ Frankie asks and raises his eyebrow in confusion.

“ For not making fun of my mommy. She’s so worried about grandpa, sometimes she goes a bit crazy.”

“ Nah she’s not crazy. She just wants to make everyone happy. Why would I make fun of her? Did someone make fun of her? “

It sends a flash of anger through him, the idea that someone might ridicule her for caring too much. If anything it’s what makes her so endearing. The world could do with more people like her. People who care. Deeply.

“ She talked to my daddy on the phone yesterday. I think he made fun of her. She cried. “

“ That’s — that’s not nice.”

Leo shrugs his shoulders in a way that seems casual but weary. As if he’s so used to it. Geez, the kid is 7. This isn’t something he should be used to.

“ Dad is not a nice person. Mama always says he’s busy and that he wants to see me but I don’t think that’s right. I think mama just doesn’t want me to be sad. I think daddy doesn’t really want to see me. Don’t think he loves me. But that’s okay mama loves me so much that’s enough. “

Leo’s words sent small cracks to Frankie’s heart and it’s quite hard not to let it crumble entirely. He’s never known what it feels like to be unloved by those that are meant to love you most. His parents adored him, still do. Even when he doesn’t deserve it. He can’t even begin to understand how much that must hurt. How devastating it must be, especially to a 7-year-old.

And yet Leo looks so — at peace. Like it bothers him sure, but it’s no big deal really.

Because he is loved either way. By (Y/N).

“ You’re a cool kid, you know that? “ Frankie asks and pats the young boy’s back in a friendly manner.

“ Mom says so. “

“ Well, she’s completely right. You really are. Now, you wanna help me find a tree? “

Leo nods enthusiastically.

“ Okay cool, but I’ll have to tell you how it works. “

“ We don’t just look for one we like?”

“ Oh no, you see the Morales family has a very specific tradition. Each year my dad and I go looking for a special tree. “

“ A special one? “

“ Mmmh. We always think of something special and then try to find a tree that fits that special thing. One time we tried to find the tallest tree on the lot or the widest or the skinniest. “

“ So what are we looking for this year? “

“ How abouuut … we look for one that has two tops? “

A giggle falls from Leo’s lips. “ That’s silly, that’s not a thing. “

“ Sure it is. You wanna go look for it? “

“ Yeah.”

There are big trees and small ones. Ones in shades of greens and some that look almost blue. There are fat ones with lots of branches and skinny ones that look like they’ve seen better days. None of them have two peaks though — until …

“ Frankie, look !”

His small, glove-covered hand is outstretched, pointing towards a tree before him. It’s a big tree, wide too. It’s blueish green color shines through the white haze of the winter's day.

And true to Leo’s words, the stem of the tree goes halfway up before it diverges into two different branches. Two tops.

“ That one’s perfect! “

“ He’s special! “

“ He is special. Good job, kid. “

The two share a high 5 as a laugh sounds from behind them.

“ I see you boys are getting along well. “ (Y/N) says as she approaches the two of them, placing a kiss on her son’s head as she reaches him.

“ We found a special tree, mom.”

“ Did you? Well so did I, it’s perfect. “

Her eyes wander towards Frankie’s and for a second it’s only the two of them there, veiled in shared understanding, a silent thank you.

“ I’m glad you found your tree, (Y/N). “

“ I’m glad you two had fun. Now hooow about we get those trees home and set up? “

“ Can we have hot cocoa at home, momma? “

“ Duh. Of course. You can’t decorate a Christmas tree without a good hot cup of cocoa.”

The softness in her voice, the pure adoration she holds for this boy, it makes Frankie think back to Leo’s words about his father and about (Y/N). About how she loves him enough for the both of them. And he can see it, clear as day. Her love for Leo.

Those two, he thinks, don’t need anyone. Especially not someone who doesn’t treat them with the love and respect they deserve. Those two are their own warmth, their own little universe. And it’s enough. It’s plenty. Everyone who’s allowed to be a part of their little world should be grateful because it’s a good world. It’s gentle and kind.

“ Alright you two, let’s get those trees home. “ Frankie pipes up and for a moment he is part of their little universe too. And it’s wonderful. He doesn’t wanna let go of this feeling. How anyone ever could is entirely beyond him.

On the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me: Three mugs of cocoa.

Bobby Helms’ voice echoes through the room accompanied by the soothing crack of a vinyl record. It’s an old one, one (Y/N) has found in a box of her grandparent’s stuff. Jingle Bell rock fills the air with a sense of excitement and wonder only a good old Christmas song can bring.

There are 3 cups of cocoa on the table, one of them in a Star Wars mug. It all feels warm and cozy. Homey. And for the first time since he’s back, Frankie doesn’t feel out of place. He doesn’t feel like a stranger watching through the window into someone else's life. Someone familiar. Someone he once knew. Someone he once was.

Right now he feels like he’s right where he’s meant to be. With friends who chose him. A family that lets him into their lives and willingly shares a piece of their kindness and warmth and magic with him. Not because they are bound to him by blood, by shared trauma. Just because they like him, as he is.

(Y/N) and Frankie sit on the old leather couch that’s been there in this same living room for so many years. One that has seen different versions of (Y/N). Some of him too.

In the corner of the room, across from the big window leading out into a snowy dreamland, stands a perfect Christmas tree. (Y/N)’s perfect tree. It’s decked out in lights and ornaments and tinsel. Leo hops around the tree, adding yet more ornaments here and more tinsel there, a big smile on his face the entire time.

And as she watches her son relish in the pure unfiltered joy only a child really knows, (Y/N) smiles too. Because sometimes this is what it means to be happy, seeing your loved ones smiling.

“ Thank you, Frankie. “ she says, eyes still locked on her son.

“ For what? “

It’s the second time that day that he is being thanked and for what? For being there? Really he hasn’t done much. This is what friends do, isn’t it? What they should do. Help each other out. Be there for one another.

“ For playing along with my crazy antics. I know it’s just a tree but I just want this Christmas to be — to be good. For me and for Leo and for my dad. We haven’t had the best year and I just want to make this perfect for us. Or as perfect as possible. Thanks for not letting me see how annoying I was back at the tree sale. “

Frankie shakes his head dismissively. “ You weren’t being annoying. I get it, don’t worry. Leo, he uh — he said something similar to me earlier. Said his dad made fun of you? Made you cry. “

(Y/N) lets out a scoff, curls her lips in an unamused smirk. “ Derek’s a — “ her eyes trail towards her son who pays the two adults no mind “ — he’s such a dick. Always has been. But he was suave and he had a motorcycle and I just kind of fell for his bad-boy charms. He’s unreliable though and a goddamn child. When I told him about Leo he bailed on us. Sometimes he tries to be a dad, whenever he gets one of his moods and feels like he needs to turn his life around. Those don’t last very long though. He sends birthday gifts and Christmas presents and he calls every once in a while but — well his interest in Leo isn’t all that big. “

“ What an asshole. Why’d he make you cry? “

“ Ugh, it wasn’t really any particular thing, just an amalgamation of so many. He was making me feel stupid because of the tree thing. He was being dismissive of my feelings. He didn’t want to talk to Leo. It was just his entire mood that day that once again made me realize why I ended things with him in the first place. And it isn’t fair. It really isn’t. That I have to work twice as hard to be a good parent because I have to fill both roles and he gets off scot-free. Not even a guilty conscience. How am I ever gonna be able to play both roles and play them well? How can I do that? I feel like I am failing already. “

“ Are you kidding me? “ Frankie says and softly nudges her shoulder with his “ You’re a great mother. You’re fun, you’re loving. What else could Leo want? (Y/N) you are doing an incredible job, trust me. Little mistakes you make that might seem big to you, they really don’t matter to Leo. Not now and especially not in the long run. He’s gonna remember the good times. The snowball fights and the hot cocoa and the tree decorating. Those are the little moments that will become memories. “

“ You think so ? “

“ I know so. It’s what I remember about my childhood. And it’s uh — it’s what Leo told me. He said that his dad might not be around but that it doesn’t matter because you love him twice as much. Said that’s plenty enough. The boy loves you. You’re a wonderful mom. “

He forbids his mind from going to that dark corner where he’s banished all his own fears. Those that whisper to him in quiet moments. About how his shortcomings, his mistakes, his faults, how all of that will stain his relationship with Rosie. His ability to be a good father.

Lord knows he wishes his daughter was here now. Maybe not in this exact moment, a toddler really ain’t much help when setting up a tree. But here. In his arms. With him. During Christmas time. He fears that she never will be. That the times he gets to see her will become few and far between. That he will one day only be a distant memory to her because he ain’t ever given the chance to make any good ones with her.

His heart aches from how much he misses his little girl at that moment. But he has to remind himself not to wallow in it. Because once he goes there, lets himself fall into this big black hole of grief and of missing and of fear, there’s no coming back.

So he looks back at the people around him, at their soft smiles and the Christmas lights reflected in their eyes. Shining with happiness. Shining with joy.

And as the snow falls softly outside, he tries to focus on the warmth in this room. The warmth from the fire and from the hearts so soft and so filled with love.

Because he’d rather get lost in a beautiful dream than the sad reality of his fears.

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales imagine #francisco morales x you #francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales imagine #frankie morales imagines #francisco morales imagines #triple frontier imagine #jos2020xmasspecial #catfish imagine #catfish x reader #catfish x you

61 notes · View notes

ourexolarmy · 4 years

Text

-Bottled Emotions-

This is a drabble request from an anon!! I’m so sorry it took me so long to get it done! I really hope you like my interpretation of the request. 🙂

Pairing: Jinyoung(GOT7) / reader

Word count: 1,570

Genre: Fluff | Implied Smut | Friends to Lovers | College!au

You smiled at the customer as they bowed and grabbed their signed copy of your friends new comic. “Have a great day!” The COMIKET was in full swing and there were tons of people bustling about. Some people were cosplaying while others just wore their favorite anime or video game shirts. You had chosen to cosplay as Robin, from One Piece. Being a college student in a different country meant that your budget was often tight and Robins ‘look’ was easy. What made it even better was that you already owned everything needed. Your friend Akira, who happened to be a new comic book author, had asked you to help him out for at least a little while until his girlfriend could get off work to join him. You had wanted to go to COMIKET anyway so you happily agreed to help out. As you continued to hand signed copies out to everyone, you happened to look over by one of the vendors and spot a familiar face. Jinyoung had been looking your way for awhile, watching as you did your job effortlessly. He had always loved your smile and your kindness but seeing you cosplaying in such a revealing outfit was really doing something to him. When would he just get the courage to tell you he liked you? He realized that you had caught him staring and he raised a hand in greeting, rubbing the back of his neck in slight embarrassment. You smiled even brighter and waved back enthusiastically. “I’m here! I made it!” A girl, who you assumed was Akira’s girlfriend, had just come rushing up to the table. She was beautiful! She was also cosplaying but had decided to go with Yuna from Final Fantasy and she was pulling it off really well! “Ah! Momo-chan, I’m glad you made it here ok! This is y/n, a friend of mine from college. Y/n, this is my girlfriend, Momo.” She gave you a warm smile and small wave, “Hi there! Thanks so much for helping Akira-kun out today!” Akira nodded along with her words, “Yeah, thanks y/n, I totally owe you one!” You smiled at them both, waving your hands in dismissal, “It was no problem! I had been wanting to come to COMIKET anyway so it was a win-win for me! Since Momo-chan is here now, do you need me to stick around for awhile longer?” Akira shook his head, “Nah, we can take it from here. Thank you again for all your help! Here, you may not want it but take a signed copy of my new work, on me!” “Oh no, I would love it! Thank you!” You took the signed copy and bowed to them both as you grabbed your satchel and placed the new copy inside, securing it across your body. As you began to walk away you looked back in the direction that Jinyoung had once been standing, only to frown in disappointment to find him not there anymore. You were lost in thought for a moment and almost jumped out of your skin when you felt an arm sling itself over your shoulders. You squeaked out a yelp and spun around quickly only to come face to face with a smirking Jinyoung, “Were you looking for me?” You slapped him playfully on the arm, “Ya! Don’t do that! You know how easily scared I am! And what if I was looking for you?” He must not have expected that answer because he looked taken aback for a split second before coming back to his senses, “Well here I am babygirl, what do you wanna do?” This was your relationship, friends who neither wanted to admit that they liked each other but constantly flirted and teased the other. You rolled your eyes and grabbed his hand, “First I want you to buy me some food and then I want to check out some of the other booths and exhibits.” He let you lead him in the direction of the food court and eventually he bought you whatever food you asked for. “Are you not going to get anything?” You asked as you blew on your ramen before putting it to your lips and slurping up the hot noodles. Jinyoung shook his head and rested his chin in his hand, “No, I already ate.” You glared you at him, “Then why didn’t you say something? I don’t like eating in front of you with no food for yourself.” “It’s fine, just hurry up and eat so we can go explore a little.”

You huffed and pouted but continued to eat until all the noodles were gone and you drank the beef broth. With a smack of your lips you put the bowl down and went to grab a napkin to wipe your face. Before you could though, Jinyoung grabbed your hand and brought his face to yours, eyeing your lips. “Whhha-“ Your cheeks flushed pink as he got closer than he’d ever been before and then your heart stopped beating as he darted his tongue out and licked the corner of your mouth, effectively removing the small piece of green onion that had remained. Your eyes surely were the size of saucers as he pulled back and smiled at you, “Sorry, I just couldn’t help myself.” Your lungs were burning a little and you suddenly remembered that you required oxygen to live. Breathing through your nose once again you smiled nervously at him, “Thanks? You know normal people usually offer others like a napkin or something.” He chuckled, “Where’s the fun in that?” You rolled your eyes and got up, taking your tray and bowl back to the designated place. All the while your brain was working double time, freaking out over what had just happened. Time passed and you both had explored almost all the comic booths when Jinyoung gasped and pointed in the direction of someone cosplaying as Franky from One Piece. “Y/n, isn’t that our professor?” You put the comic you were previously looking at back down and looked over in the direction Jinyoung was referring. A gasp escaped you and then you quickly covered your mouth as you burst into a fit of giggles. Even Jinyoung got a little choked up seeing their professor dressed in nothing but a blue speedo and a button down shirt that was left open, revealing some well drawn abs. Having not been very far away from them, the professor had spotted them. “SUPPPPPEEERRRRRR! Robin-chan!” He came running over and before you could react he embraced you, picking you up and spinning you around. Your giggles turned into full blown laughter as you remembered that you were cosplaying as one of his crewmates. Once your feet returned to the ground the professor bent his leg and threw his arms into the air, Frankys signature pose, and shouted, “SUPER!” You straightened up, trying to regain composure. Your skirt, which was low slung to begin with, had slipped down a little so you readjusted the tie at your hip, pulling it a little tighter. “It’s nice to see you too Franky-kun!” You bowed slightly to him and that’s when you noticed that the zipper of your jacket had moved down to reveal even more of your cleavage than what was already on display. Jinyoung had noticed your wardrobe malfunctions and effectively blocked the professors view from you. The two of them talked for a moment and then Jinyoung was back by your side, “I told him that the rest of the Strawhats were meeting up in the food court.” Sure enough, your professor was now bounding away from you both, randomly shouting and doing the characters signature pose. You shook your head, “That was so weird! Who knew the professor was into cosplay?” You looked back up at Jinyoung only to give him a puzzled look. He was staring at your cleavage, which you had yet to fix. You covered yourself and smacked him playfully, “Ya!” You went to pull the zipper up but Jinyoung caught your hand, stopping you. “Jinyou-“ your words cut short as he looked at you intently and for the second time that day got closer to you than he ever had. His hand moved up to cup the back of your head and he mumbled, “Say no….” Your heart rate spiked at the contact and you felt yourself automatically lean a little into his touch. When he mumbled those words, you grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled yourself up on your tiptoes, connecting your lips with his. The kiss was short and sweet at first but when you began to pull away Jinyoung strengthened his grip and pulled you back in for a more passionate kiss. It was full of the pent up feelings you both shared and you loved finally being able to express yourself. A smirk was plastered on his face as he pulled away and leaned his forehead up against yours.

An ear splitting grin broke out on your face and you threw your arms around his middle. “Why couldn’t we have done that sooner?” He pulled away and grabbed your hand tugging you along with him towards the bathroom. “Where are we going?” “There’s something else I’ve been wanting to do for awhile.” He looked back at you with a wink and your face immediately flushed at the thought of what was to come.

#kpop #kpop requests #got7 #drabble #jinyoung #college!au #admin panda

7 notes · View notes

hystericalrogertaylor · 5 years

Text

As The World Crumbles (Chapter Five)

Collaboration with @bentaylorrogerhardy

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

Word count: 2099

Summary: Ben and (Y/n) have been dating since Bohemian Rhapsody’s release. Everything seemed perfect for the young couple, until the night of the Golden Globes. Russia has bombed the United States, destroying everything and implementing a ruthless dictatorship. With the country in tatters, Ben, (Y/n), Rami, Lucy, Joe, and Gwilym form the Killer Queens, a vigilante group aimed on destroying the new government, and the cold-blooded dictator, Cornelius Vanzant.

Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of kidnapping/guns, one cuss word, heart-wrenching angst and super duper-squishy fluff

A/N: I think y’all are gonna like this...

Master list

Spotify playlist

(I feel like this gif was edited with a filter or something, so yeah, it’s not ours. Haha)

~~~

“Oh, my God,” you whispered, covering your mouth with your hand. It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Lucy stood there, in front of the TV, seemingly paralyzed by fear and shock. Then, her knees started to buckle, eventually giving out under her. She fell to the floor and started to scream.

“NO!” she yelled at the blank TV screen. “This can’t be happening! Rami, come back!” She leaned forward, almost putting her head on the floor and sobbing her heart out. “Why?!”

Ben slowly broke away from your side, kneeling down next to an inconsolable Lucy. He pulled her into a hug, whispering “shhhh” to try and calm her down. “Hey, we’ll get him back. Okay? We’ll do all we can. Please don’t cry.”

“He’s going to die!” she shouted, her body shaking with each sob. “They’re going to kill him!”

“We won’t let that happen,” Ben said quietly.

Lucy sniffled loudly, sitting up and looking Ben straight in the eyes. “Can you promise me that? Can you promise he’ll be alive to see his child?” Ben broke eye contact, looking down at his lap. “That’s what I thought.” She stood up, brushing her pants to get rid of the dust. “I know we can’t guarantee his survival, but we can at least try.” She wiped the back of her hand over her cheeks, smearing the tears.

“It’s your call,” Gwilym said, standing off to the side. “We’ll do what you want to do.”

“We watch them,” she said. “We watch the news, watch what they schedule. If his execution is public, we can get him that way. If it’s not, we can break into whatever headquarters they’re using and take him that way.”

Gwilym nodded. “Okay. Sounds doable. Let’s get to work as soon as everyone can.”

Frankie, at some point, had come into the room, watching everyone’s somber expressions. Dogs can smell emotions, and Lucy was the most depressed in the whole room. She slowly made her way over to Lucy, jumping up on her leg.

Lucy actually smiled. “Hey girl. Hey Frankie.” She picked the dog up, holding her to her face. “Everything’s fine, girl. We’ll all be fine.”

In response, Frankie started to lick Lucy’s face, making Lucy laugh a little. “That tickles!” She held Frankie away at arm’s length, smiling at her. “Thanks for that, Frankster. I needed it.”

---

After a hard day of planning how to get Rami back, you and Ben went back to your room, not even changing clothes before slipping under the blankets. Ben stared up at the ceiling, not making an effort to hide his pain.

“I just can’t believe we let that happen,” he whispered, rubbing his eyes. “He was behind us, and when we turned around a random man had a gun on his head.” He took a deep breath. “We tried to shoot him as he got away but it wasn’t any use. We could’ve hit Rami.”

You shook your head. “You’re so stupid,” you said, rolling over to face away from him.

You heard him sit up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“How could you possibly think you could take him down?” you asked, trying not to look at him. “They’re a powerful group of people, there’s no way you could’ve saved him.”

“What the hell, (Y/n)?!” he practically shouted.

You slowly sat up, finally looking back over at him, tears starting to pool in your eyes. “It’s just...I hate living every day knowing that any moment, these terrible people could just yank you out of my grasp.” You gulped, trying to suppress a sob. “I know it makes me a terrible person, but I’m so glad they didn’t get you. I don’t know what I would’ve done.” You paused for several seconds, waiting for Ben to say something. When he didn’t, you continued to talk.

“I’ll have nightmares. Almost every night. And a vast majority of them are you dying. I’ll...I’ll wake up and actually have to check the other side of the bed to make sure you’re still there. I’ve also scoured the pharmacy for pregnancy tests, and I’ll sometimes take them after a nightmare where I lose both of you, just to make sure the baby’s still there too.” Ben blinked several times, trying to comprehend what he was hearing. “You two are my everything, I couldn’t handle losing either of you. No way in hell would I be as calm as Lucy is right now.” You had to stop because you were sobbing so hard. “Please, just...don’t leave me. You’re all I have left.”

Ben sighed, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in for a hug. You held onto him for dear life, letting your tears fall onto his shirt. He stroked your hair, placing soft kisses on your forehead. “I’m not going anywhere, love. I’ll protect all three of us with whatever I can. We’ll be okay.”

“But it’s like what Lucy said,” you whimpered. “We can’t guarantee anything. If you go out on a run tomorrow to stalk Vanzant’s men, there’s no way you can say you’ll come home because you just don’t know! Fuck, I wish we’d never gone to the stupid Golden Globes!” You shook your head. “We could’ve been home, in London, watching from afar. We wouldn’t be in this stupid mess!”

“Once this is all over, we’ll head back to London, have our family, and never think about these years again.” Ben held you closer. “You’re the love of my life. Being with you until I die is all I want to do, and I’m willing to do whatever to get there, including killing Vanzant myself.”

You looked up, grabbing Ben’s face with both of your hands and pulling him into a kiss. It was short, but full of love and meaning. You knew he meant every word he just said.

You pulled away, still sniffling. “Let’s...I don’t know...go on a walk tomorrow. Spend the day with each other. Forget our problems.”

Ben cocked an eyebrow. “You want to go outside? You just protested me--”

“No, not in a public place or anything,” you clarified. “You know the garden behind the hospital? We could just hang out there all day. Get some fresh air and sunshine.”

Ben smiled, nuzzling his face into your neck, placing several kisses here and there. “That sounds amazing.”

You sighed, running your fingers through his hair slowly. “What are you doing?” you asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” he answered, pushing you down onto the mattress.

---

You and Ben woke up bright and early, wanting to get a jump start on your relaxation day. After changing out of your birthday suits and finding Frankie a leash, you said goodbye to everyone else and headed out to the hospital’s garden.

What remained of the lush area was still as beautiful as ever in your eyes. The hospital walls had begun to be severely depressing. The fresh scenery and open air was already doing wonders for you.

“All right Frankie,” Ben said, unhooking her from the leash. “Go have fun!” Frankie ran off, sniffing several plants and always staying close to you two.

You and Ben took a stroll, hand-in-hand, in complete silence, listening to the sounds of nature and the apocalypse. Under the shade of trees and knowing you weren’t seen was quite calming for you. If a plane hadn’t flown over at that moment, you would’ve had more hope for the future to be better.

“We’ve been inside for I don’t even know how long,” you said, beginning to swing the arm holding Ben’s hand. “It’s so nice to get out.”

“It is,” Ben agreed. “I’m already having more fun than when I went out yesterday.”

You shook your head, feeling the sadness creep back in. “No, we’re not talking about that. We’re here to enjoy ourselves.”

“Right, sorry.” He pantomimed zipping his lips, making you smile.

You sighed, looking up at Ben. “Do you ever just randomly think about the fact that we’re about to be parents? Like, you almost forget about it and then you remember and get that happy, fuzzy feeling, but at the same time you’re scared because this isn’t where you want to raise a child.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I get that. But usually I just get all smiley and giddy because, wow, I’m gonna be a dad. And the mom is the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.”

You blushed, smiling down at your shoes. You ran a hand over your stomach. “I can’t wait to have a bump.”

“Why’s that?” He put his hand on top of yours, causing you both to stop walking.

“Because then it’ll be real.” You smiled at him. “Then I’ll actually feel pregnant.”

Ben frowned, laughing. “I’m surprised you didn’t feel pregnant when you threw up again this morning and then cried about how cute Frankie is.”

You smacked his arm, laughing. “Oh, you know what I mean!”

Ben chuckled, pulling you into his chest. You sighed with contentment while he ran a hand up and down your back. “We should tell the others,” Ben suggested again.

You pulled away, shaking your head. “Ben, you know we still can’t do that.”

“But why not?” He was getting upset again, and you just wanted the conversation to be over.

“It’ll stress them out, and Lucy will be more upset that Rami’s not here for her.” You grabbed his hand again, beginning to slowly stroll again.

“All right,” he ceded, letting you pull him down the path.

After a few more minutes, you came upon a fountain. The water had long since evaporated, leaving an empty, beautiful stone monument. Frankie, who was still right on your heels, ran up to it and began sniffing around, even jumping up inside, before spotting a butterfly flitting about and chasing after it.

“Frankie, please don’t eat the butterfly!” you called after her. You shook your head. “Never really thought I’d have to say that out loud.”

Ben laughed, watching his dog run around and bark. “The butterfly’s too high up, she won’t get it.” He sat down on the edge of the fountain. The sun shone directly on him, making his blond hair glow and his blue eyes sparkle. You sat down next to him, putting your head on his shoulder.

“There’s no place I’d rather be right now,” you said, closing your eyes.

“Me neither.” He used his finger to tilt your chin up, pressing a kiss onto your lips. You grabbed his shoulders as he cupped your face, trying to be as close as possible. You swung your legs over and moved towards him so you were sitting on his lap. He moved a hand to your waist, always being careful to avoid touching your stomach (he was always paranoid he’d accidentally hurt the baby). The moment was getting a little heated, which wasn’t uncommon for you two, until he said something that made you stop.

He dug his fingers into your hair, pausing the kiss for a second. “Marry me,” he whispered.

“Wait.” You put your hands on his chest, pushing him away only slightly. “What did you say?”

This time, he stared directly into your eyes as he said, “I want you to marry me.” When you said nothing, he continued: “I’ve been thinking about it. I know you love me, and I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything. Like I said last night, my one goal is to spend my life with you. I would have no greater joy than if you said yes to marrying me.”

You had a few tears slipping down your cheek. Somewhere deep down, you knew this moment would come; you would even daydream about it sometimes. But nothing could compare to the actual words he spoke.

“Yes,” you rasped, your throat filled with phlegm. You cleared your throat quickly before trying to speak again. “Yes, I’d love to marry you.”

His face broke out with the biggest grin you’d ever seen. He chuckled as his own tears began to trail down his face. “Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”

You used your thumbs to wipe away his tears, smiling wide. You pushed your face back into his, continuing the kiss from earlier. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, never wanting to let go.

Until Frankie jumped up next to you both, a large pine cone in her mouth. You both looked down at her, laughing. You smiled, knowing that your planned day had turned out perfectly.

Tag list: @florencewelchmybiggod @xquiet-thoughtsx@virtualsheepeat @pietrorunsforme @stella2445 @dovexparker@amostpeculiarmademoisellerp @harrysniallpolish @mr-stank-i-dont-feel-so-dank (I’m terrible at tag lists, so send an ask if I forgot you. Sorry!)

62 notes · View notes

neverwatchedonepiece · 5 years

Text

579-580: "Arriving! a Burning Island – Punk Hazard!" and "A Battle in the Heat! Luffy vs. the Giant Dragon!"

Sorry, I couldn’t wait. xD

Delayed gratification?

Self-control?

Nah. Afraid not. The New World was calling and its siren song was far too strong. Plus, this arc has a killer name: Punk Hazard. I’ve itching to get to it ever since I saw the arc list on CR. And everything is on fire! (Except the part that’s not.)

But I’ve already said too much.

Luffy’s Nose: Meat-Detector and Trouble-Sniffer

Could it be the smell of burning island?

Now I get why you guys were mad at the filler interrupting the canon entry into the New World. The Strawhats were sailing back from wherever their filler adventures had taken them (I will go back and watch Film Z. Honest). Next thing, Zoro spots something interesting from the crow’s nest.

“What’s that? A red sea?”

It quickly emerged that Zoro did not mean an inlet of the Indian Ocean between the continents of Africa and Asia. No. The sea was red because it was literally on fire. Volcanoes erupted. Lightning shrieked from the sky. Lots of dead, skeletonized fish bobbed in the water.

Awesome. I thought. That is totally metal. This will be fun.

Though fire is a rubber person’s natural enemy, Luffy thought the same. “LET’S GO TO THAT ISLAND!” he yelled.

Yes, Luffy! Please do. :D

Then something sketchy happened. Sunny’s DDM rang. It made a strange, wailing sound Luffy had never heard before. He asked the DDM if it had a stomachache (that was hilarious and oddly thoughtful of him).

Sanji put him straight. “Luffy, you walnut, that’s an emergency signal.”

Robin also added, “Most of them are fake. It’s a tactic the Marines use a lot.” (That was a cool, little detail. A hint that maybe the Marines tried to pull this on Robin in the past?)

Luffy processed this information then ignored it immediately. He picked up with his customary greeting: “HELLO, MY NAME IS MONKEY D. LUFFY AND I WILL BECOME THE PIRATE KING.” I should not find this funny now, but I still do. Every damned time. Luffy does not give a crap who knows he’s in the vicinity. I also love that DDM trope and hope Oda never stops using it.

The distress call was from some poor sap on Punk Hazard. “It’s cold, is this the boss? It’s cold. Our guys were cut one after the other. Samurai are gonna kill us! Please help. I’m on Punk Hazard--”

The message cut off abruptly due to premature death (by cutting, I assume).

Robin was convinced the messenger was attempting to lure them into a trap (she wasn’t that far off). Zoro, of course, zoomed in on the samurai.

Brook explained that the samurai was the name for the people of Wano Kingdom (remember the zombie samurai who possessed Brook’s shadow in Thriller Bark and passed on Shusui to Zoro? He came from there). Apparently, the Wano Kingdom is completely closed off to the outside world. It is unaffiliated with the World Government to the point that even Marine ships cannot approach (I’m getting North Sentinelese vibes here, minus the technology aspect).

But Brook was puzzled as to why samurai had been brought up. Distress signal guy said Punk Hazard, not Wano Kingdom. Why were samurai being mentioned? Plus, he said it was cold. Punk Hazard was literally burning. Also, the signal of a baby DDM carried by crews on exploration missions would only stretch as far as Punk Hazard to the Sunny. Why samurai and Wano?

Okay, I thought. This is going well so far. An island is burning. The sea is on fire. A shady distress signal. A proper mystery is cooking here.

Then things got really interesting.

The action cut to Smoker’s G-5 ship. Robin was right! The Marines *do* listen in to emergency calls. Now Smoker knows the Strawhats are on Punk Hazard. But this was a pain in the ass for them. Punk Hazard had been sealed and made a restricted area after what happened four years ago. How could any living thing exist there? Plus, None of Nami’s new Log Pose needles pointed in the direction of this island, which was in itself suspicious. I wonder if the WG deliberately messed with Punk Hazard’s magnetic field so no one would come across the island by accident?

I felt like a ray of light pierced the heavens.

Disused government facilities is one of my favourite tropes. Resident Evil 2 was one of my favourite games as a kid. Ever since, I’ve loved the, “Oh, crap. Something went kaboom. Abandon ship! And now the protagonist must fight their way out” action plot trop.

Smoker ain’t the type of guy to let that phase him. “We’re going,” he said. So the Marines will show up at one point too. I’m glad. I missed Smoker. He’s been chasing Luffy for years. Gotta give the guy some panel time.

Mythical Creature BBQ

The Strawhats debating over who would escort Luffy to ensure he didn’t do anything dumb was hilarious. Nami was right, though. Luffy has no sense of self-preservation. They drew straws and Zoro, Robin and Usopp were chosen. (Poor Usopp. His disorder flared up again. xD)

Nami used another trick up her sleeve to make a cloud road (a la Skypiea) that soared over the flames, allowing mini Merry to sail over, unscathed. Downside? The road will eventually dissipate, potentially leaving the others stranded. Not so good.

When the reconnaissance team landed, they found Punk Hazard enclosed by an ominous, metal wall. Huge, “DANGER: KEEP OUT!” signs, stamped with the World Government and Marine sigils boosted the peril factor (nice). Of course, massive metal walls are no barrier to Zoro. He sliced open the gate and in they strolled!

Usopp was the only Strawhat who was really dressed for Punk Hazard, with his bare chest and overalls. The place was boiling. Volcanically hot to the point magma leaked from the stones beneath Usopp’s feet. Everything was burning. (By accident or on purpose?) Once Robin surveyed the dwellings, she concluded they were probably not people’s homes. (Evidence for a secret government training facility is growing by the minute here.)

Luffy called out to the Distress Signal Guy. (Was he stupid? This place is boiling! xD)

Then, randomly, they encountered a supposed mythical creature. Not *the* dragon, as in Monkey D., but a fanged, fire-breathing monster that talked!

I should learn not to get too attached to monsters in One Piece because they end up on the BBQ half the time. xD It was cool that Luffy, Zoro, Usopp and Robin encountered a little difficulty in taking it down. Again, that ups the peril factor, which is great.

Still not quite sure how the guy who was stuck on the dragon’s back managed to make it talk, but I guess I’ll learn how next episode. The only thing I can say is that I don’t think he’s the biggest fan of the Shichibukai. “Are you allies of the Shichibukai too?”

Arc Villain: Gru and his Minions?

Back on Sunny, where it was supposedly safer, kidnappings were afoot! (Excellent. Now everyone’s involved.)

Poor Chopper was wilting in the heat, eating his ice cream. Even Brook and Franky were feeling the burn. Sanji was in the kitchen, preparing some cool snacks, because only a chef who endures the fire of a kitchen every day would be able to endure said heat. I mean, the guy never even took his suit off. He must be flame-retardant.

While Sanji did his thing, outside on the deck, a sinister, Darth-Vader-breathing presence drew near. They placed a canister of sleeping gas on board. One by one, the Strawhats succumbed. (Including Brook, which was kind of weird, but Oda’s Universe, Oda’s Rules.)

For one minute, I thought Sanji might dodge the gas and there would be a grand return to the Sneaky Sanji running gag. But no. He opened the door, got a faceful of the gas, and almost, *almost* reached the DDM to call Luffy before passing out. Argh. Sanji was carted out with the rest by the strange, cycloptic yellow minions.

But Brook was left alone. I knew it! Ever since he was almost overlooked by Hordy’s goons on FMI, I figured Brook would be useful as a stealth agent. No one ever suspects the skeleton! I guess Sanji is in the limelight now. Now more sneaking around for him. Brook has taken over the mantle. Go, Brook!

The Strawhats are being taken to “The Master.”

I am excited.

I love that these minions think that the “two humans, a cyborg and their pet” will not be missed by anyone. No one except the G-5 ship and an angry Vice-Admiral Smoker heading your way. >:D

Love how these two are tucking into lunch when the sea is literally on fire below them.

#one piece #neverwatchedonepiece #nwop #never watched one piece #punk hazard #monkey d. luffy #roronoa zoro #sanji #usopp #nami #tony tony chopper #nico robin #franky #brook #vice admiral smoker #captain tashigi

56 notes · View notes

hazyheel · 5 years

Text

AEW Fyter Fest 2019 Review

So, we start out with the pre-show, and the first match was a triple threat tag: Best Friends vs. SCU vs. Private Party. The story early on in this match was that Best Friends and SCU were totally bullying the much smaller Private Party, although they certainly impressed. They had a lot of really good high flying offense, inculding an awesome shooting star press from Marc Quen that was unfortunately broken up. There was a really cool moment in the middle of the match where everyone in the ring was just nailing each other with huge moves, such as cutters and huge tornado DDT’s. There was also a really great near fall, where after Quen flipped out of a top rope German, and then ran up to the top rope for a hurricarana into a cutter on Franky Kazarian, but Scorpio Sky broke it up. It was not long after that when the Best Friends were able to hit strong zero for the win here.

After the match, The Dark Order came on the tron and called out the best friends. They said that they would utterly destroy them, and that they were only the first. They said they would dissect them slowly. The lights went out, and the Dark order’s minions surrounded Trent and Chuck Taylor, but they ended up just disappering.

Grade: B. Not the smoothest match in the world, but still pretty good. Private Party really shined here, and they definitely got themselves over. They were the least known tag team in this match, and they certainly impressed. However, Best friends were definitely the best pick to win this match. They are one of the most over teams on the indies, and it makes sense to continue their feud with the dark order. Good stuff, and I look forward to seeing more of private party in the future.

Then we had Leva Bates vs. Allie, with Peter Avalon at ringside. Coming to the ring, Avalon actually tried to win Bates’ heart, and when she rejected him once again, so the destroyed the tent on the stage and decapitated one of the mannequins. Bates then cut a promo about the importance of reading, while the crowd chanted “We can’t read.” Allie then came out and got a good reaction. The match was fine, not really any huge spots. There was one point where Avalon tried to interfere by tripping Allie, so the Librarians are definitely heels. In the finish, Avalon tried to give Bates a book to hit Allie with, but Allie gave Bates a superkick for the win.

Grade: C. Not the greatest match in the world. I am not a big fan of Allie, I certainly haven’t seen a great match of hers. Leva Bates seems pretty good, but I can tell that the librarian gimmick will get old quick if I have to deal with it on a weekly basis. I hope I get to see more of Bates with a different opponent, because she looks promising.

Then we had Jebailey vs. Michael Nakazawa. Nakazawa cut a little heel promo before the match, where he tricked Jebailey into revealing which leg was injured last year. He attacked the and they started the match. Nakazawa quickly got baby oil involved, making everyone slip all over the ring. Jebailey beat down Nakazawa with a fight stick, which was funny, and he also tried to drown Nakazawa in a kiddie pool. They battled by the pool for a while, with Nakazawa nailing Jebailey with a inflatable flamingo, before being powerslamed into the pool, prompting a holy shit chant. Back in the ring, Nakazawa beat Jebailing with a gamecube remote, before choking him and spearing him off the apron through a table. Jebailey was able to powerslam Nakazawa onto some lego things, but when he got back up, Nakazawa tried to shove his thong in Jebailey’s mouth and ended up hitting the ref. Jebailey then wrapped him in a cradle, but the ref was down. Nakazawa then reversed it with the thong in Jebailey’s face.

Grade: D+. I don’t think anyone thought this would be good. But honestly? If you stop watching this as a wrestling fan and just remember that Jebailey just wanted to be a wrestler on the one night he could, then it’s at least kinda fun. He did well for a total amateur. Plus, the crowd was encouraging him a lot, and he took some stiff shots from a kendo stick.

Opening the show was CIMA vs. Christopher Daniels. They put on a pretty good contest early on, just trading power moves back and forth. Daniels wokred over Cima’s back throughout the match, which interfered with Cima’s flying offense. There was one really good move where Cima hurt his back when he hit a razors edge, and Daniels durilled him with a blue thunder bomb. A great near fall came when Daniels hit Angels’ wings, but Cima kicked out. There was a rather cringy moment during the match when JR referred to Cima as an “Oriental” wrestler. God, that is just awful. Anyway, Cima got the win with a meteora.

Grade: B. Pretty good match. There was an odd pacing here where Cima was moving quite a bit faster than Daniels, which gave things a weird feel. But Cima was really good here, both in selling his back and hitting some hard hitting offense. This match definitely hyped me up for Cima vs. Kenny Omega, so this was certainly a success.

Then we had a three way with the women, pitting Yuka Sakazaki against Nyla Rose and Riho. The match started when Nyla Rose Irish whipped Riho after a handshake. So, the Joshi teamed up on the much larger and more powerful Rose, creating a sort of unofficial handicap match. Rose was more than happy to fight in that sort of match, locking both in a Boston crab at the same time. Sakazaki nearly botched a dive to the outside, but very carefully climbed the ropes instead, which was actually super cute for her character. Rose gave Riho an awesome guilltine splash, but she didn’t even go for a pin. Riho then tried to splash Rose, but was caught. Sakazaki then did the same, but was also caught in an awesome show of strength. The two Joshi then tried to pin Rose together, but there was a kickout. Rose then absolutely destroyed Sakazaki with a powerbomb, but when she went to hit a finish on Riho, Riho got a great rollup for a shocking win.

After the match, Rose tried to attack Riho, but Sakazaki came to her aid and they fought off Rose. However, Riho pushed Sakazaki away when she tried to help. Sakazaki was really really sad about that too.

Grade; B+. This was a really good match. Rose looked like a monster of a heel, and the Joshi sold like goddamned crazy for her. She will be huge in this division, she seems awesome. The Joshi were awesome as well. This was a really big win for Riho, so she will probably be pretty big player in this division, but I’m really hoping for Sakazaki. That girl is wonderful. I’m sure that the AEW women’s division will be absolutely great.

Then we had the fatal 4-way, Adam Page vs. MJF vs. Jimmy Havoc vs. Jungle Boy. MJF tried to cut a promo before the match and absolutely wrecked the very nerdy crowd by saying that their mom swallows. He called everyone geeks, fat, disgusting, virgins, and losers. Oh my god he is good on the mic. The match was showing everyone’s character and styles. MJF was constantly trying to steal a pin, Jungle Boy flew around, Havoc would just randomly run in and hit something crazy, and Page was constantly the babyface standing tall. At one point, Jungle Boy went for a reverse cannonball splash on the outside, but his boot clipped the turnbuckle so he botched it a bit, but it still looked great. Whenever MJF could attack Page, he would attack the knee. At one point, MJF went for a sharpshooter, but Page reversed it into a sharpshooter of his own for a short submission sequence. Havoc took out Jungle Boy with a death valley driver out of the ring and onto his friend Luchasaurus. After Havoc hit MJF with a double stomp off the top, MJF ducked a buckshot lariat so it hit Havoc. MJF then fled the ring as Page hit Havoc with deadeye for the win.

Grade: B+. Another good match. The action was very fast, we had the winner that we definitely needed, and we saw a lot from Havoc and Jungle Boy. They will be big in this brand, so I’m happy that we saw them get some offense. Page did not pin MJF, so I bet that they will do the singles match at fight for the fallen. Good stuff wrestling here.

Then we had Cody vs. Darby Allin. Allin came into this match wth a crazy amount of energy and excitement, playing an underdog but a dangerous one. He was grabbing rollups whenever he could, really fishing for a win here. Allin took a dangerous bump early on where he was thrown into the turnbuckles and he slipped through the middle ropes and out of the ring. Allin worked over Cody’s hand, which was injured pretty recently. Allin was also flying all over the ring, and hitting Cody with everything he had. Cody was simply using his strength advantage to take down Allin at every turn. At one point, Cody hit a reverse superplex as the crowd showered them in AEW chants. Another crazy spot saw Allin go for a coffin drop on the apron, but Cody rolled in the ring, so Allin just crashed onto the apron. Cody then knocked Allin into his own body bag, and gave him a disaster kick while he was in it, but only a near fall. As the time limit ticked down, Cody started to lay into Allin with his weight belt, but Allin wouldn’t stay down. Allin was able to hit an over the top stunner, but Cody quickly recovered and hit a cross roads, but only made the pin as the time limit sank down, and we ended in a draw.

After the match, the crowd chanted for overtime, and it looked like they were going to get it, but Shawn Spears showed up and nailed Cody in the head with a nasty chair shot. Spears looked like he was going to hit Brandi too, but the ref got in the way and stopped him. Spears walked away as MJF ran into the ring, ready to kick ass. Cody walked away with Brandi helping him. Cody looked pretty legitimately loopy.

Grade; B-. The match was alright, tough to follow up that awesome match at Double or Nothing from Cody, but this was still pretty good. Allin looked really good here, playing a scrappy underdog that did everything he could. He pulled out some nasty and dumb stunts, which what he is known for. He certainly impressed me. I thought the finish was a bit contrived, with Cody having plenty of time between hitting cross roads and making the pin. I thought the post match attack was scary, that was a rough chair shot that really belongs in the 90′s, was unnecessary, but I would love to see that feud. Probably going to secure another match at All Out. But as for this match, we are open for a rematch, and they brought Darby Allin to a whole new audience.

Into a 6-man tag. Lucha Bros and Laredo Kid vs. The Elite. The Bucks entered as Ken and Ryu, while Kenny Omega came in as Akuma. As a video game nerd, I was happy. Laredo Kid and Nick Jackson squared off, trading some high flying offense, but quickly all members of the teams entered the ring. The Luchadores quickly got the advantage with a triple suicide dive. They then gave Matt a double superkick into a reverse rana which looked badass. Another point saw Matt giving all of the luchadores northern lights suplexes, drawing loads of cheers from the crowd. Matt hit an awesome combination of a destroyer into a spear. Kenny then gave each of the luchadores a dragon suplex. The Luchadores took back control, when Fenix dove over the post, and Kid hit a Lardeo splash, but Omega kicked out just as Pentagon ran in to give Matt a destroyer. At another point, the luchadores all charged at the elite, so they haduokkened them away. Matt wanted to give Pentagon a swan diving Meltzer driver, but nick mistepped when going over the top rope. He still climbed the ropes, and Fenix intercepted him for a spanish fly to the outside. Back in the ring, Omega gave Kid a v trigger, liger driver 98, and the one winged angel for the win.

Grade: A-. Of course this match was great. They got 6 of the best talents in AEW, and put them in one ring together, and they killed it. There were a couple rough spots, but nothing that would derail the awesome match. They flew all over the place and hit so many awesome spots. And this one wasn’t a finisher fest like the big tag match at Double or Nothing. They just hit some awesome moves and put on a great show. This easily could’ve been the main event of the night, although I think it was a good choice for the semi main.

And in the unsanctioned main event, we had Joey Janela vs. Jon Moxley. No disqualifications, anything could happen. They brawled at ringside, with Janela starting off the hardcore spots by hitting Moxley with a prosthetic leg that was passed through the crowd. The two then pummeled each other with a chair wrapped in barbed wire, before both faling through a table off the apron after a Russian Leg sweep. Moxley then threw Janela back in the ring for a spear through a table in the corner. Moxley kept it up with a board with barbed wire on it, but Janela ended up putting him through it with a death valley driver. They kept up the crazy spots as Janela hit on elbow drop off a ladder in the ring, through Moxley on the outside with some tables. Moxley got revenge though, giving Janela a death valley bomb out of the ring and through a barbed wire board on the outside. Moxley then introduced thumb tacks, before taking off Janela’s shoes and slaming him on the thumbtacks. Janela begged for more by flipping off Moxley, so he grabbed more of them and gave him the death rider onto the tacks for the win.

After the match, Kenny Omega ran in to give Moxley a v Trigger, piledriver and a double foot stomp onto Moxley. He beat Moxley with a mic stand from the band that didn’t show up. He then threw Moxley into the drum set, beat him with the sticks, and smacked him in the back with a guitar before walking away. Some refs were escorting him to the back, and Moxley pushed them away in frustration, but Kenny came back out to beat him with a trash can and giving him a death rider onto the garbage can.

Grade: B+. Not the best death match I have ever seen, but it was still really good. I was just interesting to see Moxley in this kind of postiion. I know he missed these types of matches, and it was awesome to see him back in his element. Those thumbtack bumps were actually sick, and I cringed hard at both those and the barbed wire. Definitely the right person won, and I really liked the attack afterwards. Their feud is just going to build more and more until All Out, and it should be a great match.

Overall Grade: B

Pros: Triple threat tag; Cima vs. Daniels; women’s triple threat; four way; 6-man tag; unsanctioned

Cons: Bates vs. Allie; (not putting Jebailey on here, because while it was not a good wrestling match, I certainly didn’t think it was a con)

2 notes · View notes

beca-mitchell · 6 years

Text

remember the day, pt. 9

Summary: Back in L.A. and everything that brings.

Also on AO3.

Word count: 3,116

Recommended songs: Mine - Bazzi

Check out this fic’s soundtrack here.

“I’m so sorry,” Beca says quickly, rushing up to where Chloe’s sitting patiently at their reserved table.

“It’s okay,” Chloe says, standing. She pulls Beca for in for a thorough kiss, one usually reserved for the privacy of their home. “You’re here now,” she murmurs, kissing Beca once again for good measure.

“I - I…” Beca blinks, shaking the force of Chloe’s kiss from her mind as best as she can. “I’m sorry I’m late. They were talking about putting me-”

“Bec,” Chloe says gently. “It’s fine. You know I understand.” She reaches for Beca’s hand once Beca sits down, fully. “You’ll never have to explain it to me. I’ve been here for the entire journey, haven’t I?” She pushes a menu towards Beca.

“Don’t you still want to hear about it?” Beca asks, exaggerating a pout for Chloe’s benefit.

“We have all the time in the world, Bec.”

Beca fumbles for her phone which she can hear buzzing on her bedside table. She sighs, rolling over from where she had been cuddling Chloe’s old pillow and slowly falling asleep.

Blearily, she glances at the screen before answering. “Chlo,” she greets, eyes still closed. “It’s kinda late,” she mumbles.

“Will you go out with me? On a date?” Chloe asks, the moment Beca picks up the phone.

Beca blinks, nearly dropping her phone. She’s more awake, suddenly.

“Bec?” Chloe feels shy for the first time in a while. She feels shy because she feels like she’s asking out her high school crush. Or maybe because she’s asking the woman who had been her fiancée out on a date.

“I – I think I’m allowed just, like, one moment to process that,” Beca says, voice coming out on an appealing rasp. She can’t help the disbelieving laugh that escapes her. Chloe grins a little at the sound. “You called me in the middle of the night to tell me that? To ask me out?” Beca can’t resist, because the love that rushes through her at that moment overwhelms her. “You’re so weird,” she murmurs affectionately, lovingly.

Chloe’s laugh is light and Beca can practically hear her smile. “Thanks,” she says, like an echo of an exact moment in Beca’s mind. It is so far removed at this point, but it still sends a pang through her heart.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Chloe admits.

“Are you okay?” Beca asks quickly. “What’s wrong?”

Chloe laughs at that a little bit – mostly because nothing feels wrong for the first time in a while. She feels like she can breathe again and she feels like all she needs is to have Beca by her side. “Nothing’s wrong, Bec,” she says softly. “I promise.”

Beca swallows. “Chlo,” she murmurs.

Chloe hums in response.

“Ask me again,” she implores quietly.

The slow exhale she hears over the line only makes her grip her phone tighter.

“Beca Mitchell,” Chloe begins. “Will you go out with me on a date? An honest-to-God date?”

“I…yeah, of course I’ll go out with you,” Beca says, as if she’d decline that invitation. She yawns. “I mean, you kissed me, so. It makes sense.”

It’s so wonderfully awkward and so Beca that Chloe doesn’t even bother feigning surprise at the shock of affection that runs through her. She just lets it kind of envelop her and warm her.

”So, uh,” Chloe says lightly. “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been good,” Beca says as if they didn’t just see each other a couple days ago. “Still working on music. It’s been a lot of studio work, but I’ll get there…” She trails off, pondering. Chloe lets her, enjoying the silence for once. “How about you? Heard you went to Atlanta recently.” It’s meant to be lighthearted, but Chloe’s little sigh tells her that this late night phone call serves a dual purpose.

“I’ve been remembering things,” Chloe tells her with some reservation in her voice. She’s all for the memories, but not if they’re going to get Beca’s hopes up all the way. “I - I wanted to tell you earlier, but we kind of...got carried away,” she says, referring to how they ended up retiring to Beca’s father’s house and making out for a few minutes before slowing to gently trading kisses in the guest room until they dozed off.

The next day, it went largely as an unspoken agreement to not talk about it until they returned to Los Angeles.

“What kind of things?” Beca asks quietly, picking up on the quietly serious tone to Chloe’s voice. She’ll return to the topic of kissing Chloe later. “Like...everything?”

“No, not everything,” Chloe says, hoping that Beca isn’t too disappointed. “I…I think they’re memories, but they mostly feel like emotions, if anything. I remembered, mostly randomly, how you helped me with a papercut once.”

Beca laughs, a little shakily at that. It’s so small, but so monumentally amazing to her that Chloe remembers things at all. It’s more than she could have asked for. “Once?” she asks. “Try like ten thousand times. You’re the clumsiest person I know.”

“That can’t be true,” Chloe protests, voice bordering on a whine. “Aubrey told me you once walked into a trap. A literal trap.”

“Well, I mean...there wasn’t a sign. That I saw.” Beca huffs and it’s adorable. Chloe grins again.

They fall into a comfortable silence once more. Chloe tries not to think about whether Beca’s lying sprawled in her bed, or more specifically, whether she’s wearing those attractive pajama shorts.

She shakes her head, clearing her head. “Beca,” she begins. “I’ve missed you,” she says, because it’s true and she wants Beca to know that.

“I just saw you,” Beca points out, though she keeps her voice playful. She feels like she could talk to Chloe forever, if she wanted.

“You know what I mean.” Chloe sighs. “It’s weird, because you’re here , but I just...miss you.”

“I’m right here.”

“I know.”

Beca’s breathing is slow and steady, almost like she’s falling back asleep. “I’ve missed you ,” Beca replies. “More than songs can express, probably. Like, you’d think that as a musician, I’d have a better way of saying that.”

Chloe doesn’t say anything to that, simply smiling over the line.

“Sorry, that was kinda cheesy,” Beca finally says after a pause.

“Yeah, it was,” Chloe agrees, even though Beca hadn’t asked. “I liked it.”

I like you .

“I like you,” Beca says, so quiet that Chloe almost misses it.

Figures Beca would beat her to the punch.

Chloe can’t help the giddy feeling that rises up in her. “Tell me again,” she says.

Beca laughs, sounding a bit sleepier than before. “I like you, Chloe Beale.”

Chloe smiles, feeling herself sinking into her own dreamworld.

Before she falls, she ensures she lets out a sleepy, “I like you, too.”

Chloe picks up a copy of InStyle sitting on the glass table in front of her. Around her, people bustle past her, going about their regular business.

EXCLUSIVE: Backstage photos from the 2019 Grammy Awards inside! Pages 14 and 15!

She flips it open, finding the spread inside. She’s pleasantly surprised to see Beca’s face splashed across the inside, though less pleased at the sight of Beca leaning against her non -date that evening.

It makes Chloe’s head hurt.

Despite their newfound closeness, Chloe finds herself missing Beca more than normal, though it likely has to do with the fact that Beca seems to be gearing up for some kind of tour, performing her own music as an opening act for one of the label’s artists.

She has listened to Beca’s music - her own original work as well as the music she has worked on for other artists - and she can say, completely unbiased, that Beca is quite possibly the most talented person she knows.

Unfortunately, other people know that fact too, something Chloe realizes will only continue to be flaunted in front of her.

She lingers in the lobby, staring at glass ceilings and tall windows. She feels exposed and bare, like every eye is on her - like people recognize her, but she doesn’t recognize them in return. Added on top of everything, her headache is being fairly persistent today, so she had been looking forward to a nice lunch with her - her Beca.

“Hey!” Beca’s voice calls from the elevators. Chloe turns at the sound and smiles at the sight of Beca power-walking towards her.

“Hi,” she says, reaching for Beca just as Beca opens her arms for a hug. Chloe tries to stifle the little sound she makes when she sinks into Beca’s arms, contentedly closing her eyes.

“Ready for lunch?” Beca asks, adjusting her jacket.

“Sure, I thought we could-” She is cut off by a young, haggard-looking man rushing up to Beca with a clipboard and manila folder in hand. He breathes heavily, halting right in front of them.

“Beca, we need you to just finish signing these contracts. Also, you have a meeting with the marketing department in like...forty minutes.” He glances at Chloe apologetically. “Oh, hi Chloe.”

Chloe blinks, unsure. “I’m - I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met,” she says slowly, trying to place him in her mind.

“Oh, my name is Frankie, but we’ve only met once,” he says quickly when he catches Beca’s expression. “I’ll wait for you back upstairs,” he mutters, directed at Beca.

Chloe waits until he leaves.

“You didn’t tell them,” she says quietly.

Beca sighs. “It’s not really anybody’s business but ours. Only some people know about the accident at all. I’m mostly lucky that I don’t have people breathing down my back every day and night.” She bites her lip. “Please don’t get mad, but I think there’s something I have to do and it can’t wait. I’ll come pick you up tonight?”

Chloe nods, a little hesitantly, but she gets it. This is all part of Beca’s life and now Chloe gets to be a part of it too.

Chloe lets Beca peck her on the cheek before she disappears.

She just wishes she could remember being a part of Beca’s life - seeing all the growth and progress - the first time around.

She heads back to work, pondering.

They get to their little impromptu date later that evening and Chloe bites back a question she has been dying to ask for a while now.

It’s just something Chloe’s curious about.

So, she holds off until they’re strolling along the boardwalk and her hand is brushing Beca’s, fingers just itching to meet their other halves. She buys them both ice cream cones and carries it back to where Beca is leaning against the railing casually.

She decides to just ask because she’s not sure exactly what the protocol is for something like this – dating your (ex?) fiancée again, like it’s the first time.

They’re leaning against a railing at Santa Monica Pier, watching the flocks of both tourists and seagulls milling about.

Chloe demolished her ice cream cone long ago, so she’s enjoying the meticulous way Beca is consuming hers. It does something to Chloe’s chest, watching Beca do innocuous things here and there, like she’s relearning this woman in front of her. She supposes she is, in some way, but everything slots together in her mind so neatly and wonderfully that she can do nothing but greedily consume every moment she has with Beca.

It’s different, now that she has allowed herself to feel again, unapologetically and unabashedly.

“What?” Beca asks, when she catches Chloe’s gaze. Chloe merely smiles at her and thumbs away the fleck of ice cream from Beca’s chin. “Thanks,” she mutters, a little embarrassed. It’s both an old and new sensation, Beca thinks, walking alongside Chloe. She still marvels at how beautiful and wonderful Chloe is, but the fact that she gets to do this at all...

“I...you’ll forgive me if this isn’t first date protocol,” Chloe begins. “But I…wondered if I could ask you something.”

“Okay,” Beca says, turning her body to face her more fully. She reaches for Chloe’s hand, gently tugging her to stand a bit closer.

"Did you meet anyone?" Chloe asks, after a moment. The moment the question leaves her, she feels, amidst curiosity, a vulnerability that strikes her as both old and new.

Beca blinks, confused. “What do you mean? When?”

"When we were…when I was in Portland and you were here. Was there someone for you?"

Beca stares at Chloe, wishing she could figure out exactly what is going through her mind. "No," she says finally and with nothing but honesty. Her brow furrows a little, wondering if they’re going to rehash this, but she supposes Chloe’s curiosity has more to do with the status of their relationship than anything. "I...haven’t been with anybody since you," Beca mumbles, turning to stare at the ocean again. It’s not embarrassing, but she feels a little shy under Chloe’s piercing gaze.

Chloe’s silence makes her glance up. She catches sight of Chloe’s smile – it’s gentle and tinged with affection. “I don’t mean sex, Beca,” she murmurs, ignoring the blush that rises up on her cheeks. “I meant…did you meet anybody who…who you thought, maybe-?”

Beca makes a small grunting sound, somewhere between a huff and a sigh. She ignores the ice cream that’s now dripping down her hand in favour of tilting her head to stare at Chloe almost incredulously. “Chlo,” she says, with finality that she hopes is more assertive than her definitive “no” earlier.

“Bec,” Chloe echoes.

They stare at each other for a moment.

Chloe finally shakes her head and pulls a little at Beca’s hand before sliding a hand to gently grip her waist. “I’d want you to tell me,” she says quietly. “I’d want you to be honest with me. It’s just…I’ve thought about it a lot and how different our lives would be.”

“Chloe,” Beca begins, swallowing thickly at their proximity. She’s still reconciling how close they can be with each other now, wondering where her own boundaries are and how much she can do, even if all she wants to do is kiss Chloe again like they did that night in Barden.

Chloe powers onwards. “There…isn’t any reason why you wouldn’t have met somebody, even in that tiny period of time we were apart.” She ignores the lump in her throat because she knows how true these sentiments are. “I’d want you to be happy and I know I’d understand.”

Beca’s eyes flash with something. Not anger exactly, but something closer to sadness. "There wasn’t anybody, I promise. And…I think you know why there wouldn’t have been anybody." She sighs, looking down at her cone, ensuring she’s holding it away from their bodies so it doesn’t drip onto their clothes. “Do you...want me to make somebody up?”

Chloe plucks the ice cream cone from Beca’s hand and bites into the waffle. “No,” she laughs. “You know what I want, I think.”

"Chloe,” Beca says, watching as Chloe finishes off her ice cream cone. “Chlo, I work in the entertainment industry.”

“I am aware,” Chloe mutters, thinking of all the gorgeous men and women who hang off her all the time.

Beca’s eyes light up at the mild possession in Chloe’s tone. “But, I mean, I meet a lot of seriously cool people every day. They’re talented, they’re attractive, sure, but I have never thought about any of them in any way other than a completely professional sense.”

"Why not?" Chloe asks. “You thought I had found somebody in Portland, even after a shorter period of time.”

Beca frowns at the memory, guilt and residual pain racking through her. She sees similar pain in Chloe’s eyes. They hadn't talked about Chloe. Beca hadn't thought to ask her the same question and she wished now that she'd done it a lot sooner, like when Chloe first moved back. "Wasn’t there someone for you? Whatever his name was," Beca mutters.

(She remembers.)

"You mean while I was trying to figure out who I was? Who I am?" Chloe asks, laughing a little. She’s glad they can talk about this with levity as opposed to pain.

"It's not totally impossible, okay," Beca murmurs.

"Honestly, it was a little impossible," Chloe said. "I went for me , not find somebody new above all. Believe me when I say Matt was an anomaly."

“Matt now, huh?” Beca asks, though it lacks bite. She’s just enjoying the way the ocean breeze kind of ruffles Chloe’s hair a little and how they’re standing close enough that she can smell Chloe’s shampoo.

Chloe rolls her eyes.

"But,” Beca says. “The fact remains, you met somebody you liked. Even if it was just in a friendly way. You met somebody that had no expectations of you and was a blank slate if you wanted.”

"A friend, yeah. Not anybody I could see myself being with."

Beca purses her lips, nodding sagely. "That’s…disappointing or something, I guess."

Chloe scoffs. “Yeah, you look really disappointed, Bec.”

"Oh, I am."

"I wasn't looking," she says, finally, with honesty that shines through her eyes. Beca sees it and nearly sags in relief.

“I wasn’t looking either,” Beca replies. “I…found everything I need.”

There’s some hesitance to Beca’s words like she’s not sure Chloe is ready to hear these things – whether Chloe is fully comfortable with them, even though they’re on a date. It fuels Chloe’s attraction to her.

“Honestly,” Beca continues, in Chloe’s silence. “That distance was for the best, you know? It was nice to have time to ourselves, wasn’t it?”

Chloe feels something loosen inside her chest. Like she can breathe again. "Yeah.”

“But…now,” Beca murmurs, cupping Chloe’s cheek. It’s warmed from the sun. She gently rubs her thumb over soft skin before leaning up to kiss her.

It’s soft and sweet - an even gentler kiss than their shared kiss in the Barden courtyard. Beca sinks into it, closing her eyes, wondering if she’ll ever get over the sensation of kissing Chloe, especially now that she cherishes each moment (more than before) like it’s the first day of the rest of their lives over and over again.

“I hope that was okay,” she mumbles, pulling back.

Chloe shakes her head before pulling Beca into a tight hug. Around them, sound fades to a distant buzz. All Chloe can feel is the gentle press of Beca’s body against hers, as perfect as ever. "Beca,” she whispers. “You know I still have a long way to go, don't you?"

Beca lets out a shaky sigh, feeling simultaneously ecstatic and hesitant. “I know,” she whispers. “I promise to be here for you.”

“I know you will be,” Chloe says.

Believing Beca is as natural as breathing.

tbc // my fics tag

#bechloe #mine #my fanfic #amnesia!au #beca mitchell #chloe beale #fanfiction #text #pitch perfect

168 notes · View notes

thefloorisbalaclava · 3 years

Note

Hello lovely! So a friend and I have been talking about Frankie lately and how damn adorable it would be if he were his kids little league baseball coach. Like, he passes down his old mitt to them from high school days (even though it’s comically too big for them) because it gave him good luck, and of course all the guys would come to support them (possibly Benny or Santi even trying to hit on the single moms because of course they would LOL) could possibly be in the neighbor!frankie universe with Gabi in their future some time? We just thought you’d be perfect to write these random ideas into something beautiful. If you have time or even like the idea of course!! ❤️❤️❤️

I hope you don’t mind me putting this in the mechanic!frankie AU! I think it’s a great way for reader and Frankie to bond a little more!

A/N: You run into your favorite mechanic while out running errands.

[mechanic!frankie masterlist]

You wandered aimlessly down the aisle of the store, randomly grabbing a box of cereal to throw into your cart as you whistled along to the song playing in your ear. As you rounded the corner, you ran into someone else’s cart. You quickly removed your earbuds to apologize.

“Oh! I am so- Frankie?!” It came out a little louder than you expected, making a few heads turn.

“I thought I was Frankie,” he joked and you rolled your eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Just picking up a few things.” You looked at his cart. “You look like you’re picking up enough to feed a small army.”

“I kinda am.” He held his jacket open to show you his baseball jersey. “Got a game tonight and we’re gonna have a party after--win or lose. You’d be surprised how much those kids can eat.”

“Wait, are you telling me you coach little league?”

“I do, yeah.” He smiled proudly. “I used my own money to get the league started. I buy the uniforms and everything.”

“You didn’t tell me this last night.”

“Well, I was focused on other things,” he said and you giggled like a schoolgirl. “I had fun.”

“Me too and the food was delicious. Remember, next time I’m cooking for you,” you told him.

“Are you doing anything later?” he asked.

“Oh, wow, trying to get me to cook for you already, huh?” you teased.

“No,” he chuckled, “I was wondering if you’d like to come out and watch the game. Cheer us on a little.”

“I’ll be there. Where is it?” you asked and he told you. “Coach Frankie...it fits you.”

“Thanks.” He stood there silently for a moment. “Why is it always so hard to say goodbye to you?”

“I was just wondering the same thing. How about this? We won’t say goodbye just...see you later.”

“Okay then. See you later.”

“See ya, Coach Frankie.” You winked and pushed your cart past him and he watched until you were out of sight.

It was a nice day out so you decided to walk. The game was already underway by the time you got there, and you didn’t know it but Frankie had been scanning the bleachers for you. This time when he looked up and spotted you, he beamed and waved then turned back to all the kids that surrounded him. Once he was done, he walked over to the fence and waved you down.

“You made it,” he said.

“Yeah, sorry I’m late. I walked,” you told him.

“No umbrella?” he asked then looked up at the sky. “It’s gonna rain, you know. Can’t you smell it?”

“The weatherman said nothing about rain today.”

“He could be wrong...” Someone called his name and he turned. “I’ll see you after the game, okay? Don’t sit alone. My friends are up there.” He nodded to the group of guys sitting at the very top of the bleachers.

“Okay. Good luck, Coach.” You smiled and made your way up the bleachers.

“So you’re Frankie’s girl, huh?” one of the men asked. “I’m Benny, by the way.”

“Hi Benny. And I’ve met you, Santiago...right?” Santiago nodded and shook your hand.

“This is my brother William,” Benny said. You shook his hand too then sat down to watch the game. It made you smile to see Frankie enjoying himself, surrounded by children who obviously hung on every word he said. You didn’t hear him shout once aside from cheering for his team. At one point you got so into it that you stood up and cheered louder than anyone else. The guys snickered as you cleared your throat and sat back down.

They ended up winning the game and you all went down to congratulate them.

“What a win, Coach Frankie,” you said, giving him a high five.

“I think I might have had a good luck charm out there in the crowd,” he said and you looked down shyly. The guys came over and you stood back while they talked to him. Afterwards, Frankie reminded everyone of the little party he had put together in the park for them so you all walked over and enjoyed pizza and snacks with the team and their parents.

Frankie told you that you didn’t have to help clean but you wanted to. You weren’t exactly ready to say goodnight just yet. His friends said their goodbyes and his players all gave him a high five and a hug before leaving with their families.

When the last of the mess was thrown away, Frankie turned to you, lifting his cap to scratch at his head. “You mind if I walk you home?” he asked.

“I don’t mind at all.”

“Oops...almost forgot my umbrella.” He sprinted over to where he left it then made his way back to your side.

“You really brought an umbrella? It’s not going to rain,” you repeated.

“Yeah, it is. Here...let me show you. This is what my dad taught me.” He led you over to a tree. “You see when the wind blows and the backs of the leaves show? That means rain.”

“I see but...” You felt a raindrop on your head and Frankie shrugged.

“Told ya. Come on.”

You two walked slowly through the park, taking the longer way around. “Maybe it won’t rain too bad.” No sooner had you said that than the skies opened up. You squealed and Frankie opened his umbrella as quickly as he could, pulling you under there with him.

“Think we can make it to the bridge?” he asked over the rain.

“I don’t know...” Suddenly he took your hand and pulled you along as he ran under the bridge then leaned against the stones to catch his breath.

“I...told...you,” he teased.

“Don’t rub it in,” you breathed. You smiled at him and he smiled back. He took his hat off and slicked his hair back before replacing it.

“At least it waited until after the game,” he said. He saw you hugging yourself and shrugged his jacket off before draping it over your shoulders. “There.”

“Thanks.” You pulled it around you tighter and were hit with a delightful smell. You closed your eyes and let yourself be surrounded by it. “Sandalwood,” you said out loud.

“Hm?”

“Your jacket...it smells like sandalwood,” you said.

“Oh yeah. One of my favorite scents,” he told you.

“Fits you. Very earthy and...” Your breath hitched as you noticed how close he was to you. “...you.”

“Very earthy and me?”

“Y-Yeah.” You two just stared at each other for awhile and you felt yourself being drawn to him, your body leaning towards his.

“Looks like it’s letting up,” he said suddenly, breaking the spell you were under.

“Oh...yeah, it does.” You tried to hide your slight disappointment.

“Shall we, my lady?” He offered his arm while he used the other to hold the umbrella. “Not my lady,” he amended, “I meant like...”

“I know what you meant. Let’s go.” You took his arm and moved as close as you could to get under the umbrella with him.

“I’m not used to this, you know,” he said after a few moments of silence. “I haven’t walked through the park like this since my wife died...” His words trailed off.

“Thank you for sharing something so special with me, Frankie.”

By the time he got you home, the rain had stopped and the sun had started to go down.

“Thank you for letting me walk you home.”

“Thank you for walking me home,” you countered and he chuckled.

“Can I call you tonight?” he asked.

“Of course. You can call whenever you like.”

“Great...awesome.” He walked backwards down the path. “Talk to you soon,” he said before turning away. As he walked along, he noticed he had started whistling I’m Singing in the Rain. He twirled his umbrella playfully and purposely jumped in a puddle.

“What a glorious feeling, and I’m happy again...” he sang to himself.

frankie taglist: @fakenoods @oldstuffnewstuff @the-bird-suit @lestrange2703 @findhimfives @windfallss @rach7 @surfsup666 @theghostwiththemost-babe @marshmallow–3 @mrschiltoncat @aplaceofpeace @josepedropascal @mitchi-c @jeeperky @allthingsnarcos @laymegentlytorest @stanfordscrush @fangirlingss @nathan-bateman @darthdumbasss @helga1031 @master-obi-wan-kenboneme @heythere80sbaby @deserttastesbitter @dindjstarin @mandodjarinn @frankie-stein18 @funkylittlebisexuall @16boyfriends-and-me @marvelousmermaid @slugbuggie @ladyblogger-margie @queenbbarnes @dodgerandevans @terrormonster55 @queridopascal @hells-bells-x @allmahfeels @elizabeth-von-winken-universe @blackberries45 @darnitdraco @nemo-my-name-forevermore @dindjarinneedsahug

permanent taglist: @magicsuperheroes @feelmyroarrrr @the-dazzling-urbanite @phoenixhalliwell @liveloudwriteloud @tumblogbykarapaloma @jaime1110 @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @pascal-isaac @dazedrhapsody @pascalisthepunkest @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @tiffdawg @freak-of-nature2002 @kingpascals @saltywintersoldat @theocatkov @mandilflorian @cyaredindjarin @themarcusmoreno @the-feckless-wonder @loki-098 @arabellathorne @dindisneydjarin @punkpascal @opheliaelysia @takens-world @huliabitch @stardelic @kandomeresbitch @havenforafrazzledmind @thisis-theway @stardust-galaxies @mrsparknuts @jedi-mando @frankiemorales @edencherries @lilkermit14 @virtualxjournality @thirstworldproblemss @emesispo @heresathreebee @tangledlove27 @marvgrrl @hayley-the-comet @insoucianttt @witchyavenger @coaaster @starless-eyes-remain @wanderlustmags @wonderfulfluffer @lv7867 @pedropasscals @pedroepascal @wigwitch @seasonschange-butpeopledont @theoria850 @roxypeanut @autumnleaves1991-blog @kenedyybrooklin @artsymaddie @dindjareen @silverfish-kingdom @heyitmelexie @gredandfeorgesgirl @mandaloriandindjarin @moonlight-prose @rosiefridayrogersunday @ssppoorrkk @amalie-buch @lucifer- @mstgsmy @randomness501 @darthadeline @youarenewformetoo @thehippiequilter @whovian-gurl @neverlandlibrarian @chibi-liz05 @dragons-of-the-usa @over300books @borderlinedindjarin @mudhornchronicles @cosmoschick @linkpk88 @lovingramsey @djvrins @escapedthesarlacc @coni-martina @pedrospunk @burrshottfirstt @jitterbugs927 @xserenax-13 @anatanotegami @doin-stuff @djarinsruni @aerolanya @icanbeyourjedi @bison-writes @strangelittlenobody @dinsbeskar @sarahjkl82-blog @neontiiger @houseofthirst @intu-witch-tion @ennuiandthebourgeoisie @littlebopper96 @boxdyeblonde @empressamidala @myheart-pedro @mtjoi @purplepascal042 @goalkeepernerd @rebelliouscat @leaiorganas @eternallyvenus @mandocrest @kellyozz @the-wishmonger @maythxthirstbxwithyou @andiebell2023 @moonlightburned @videogamesandpoorlifechoices @leonieb @freeshavocadoooo @auroraariza @kalimont83 @notabotiswear @martellthemandalor @beesting77 @medeasmiles @diaryofkali @mando-amando @venusdjarin @mystical-934 @blackmarketmummy @hauntedmama @mamacitapascal @insomniamamma @pedro4ever @greeneyedblondie44

i hope everyone is where they want to be! let me know if you want to be changed around! join a taglist here!

#mechanic!frankie #frankie morales #francisco 'catfish' morales #heythere-mel #headcanon

247 notes · View notes

plume8now · 6 years

Text

Lost

Fandom: One Piece

Ship: ZoSan for @marimocookweek Day 8: Free Day/Soulmate AU but in universe actually.

Summary: Luffy pouted. “If Sanji goes who's gonna cook? Chopper can find Zoro by his smell!” “That does make sense,” Nami said. “Chopper...?” “I can't smell him right now, but I can try to go back and start from there.” “I think...” Sanji looked on the left. “He went this way.” Everyone stared at him. “You saw him leave?” The cook scratched his head. “No. I just have a feeling.”

Warning: Soulmate AU, more or less, thriller bark spoilers, sabaody spoilers, zosan week, Humor, Angst, Canon Facts, don't expect anything from them they're both dorks, i'm so done with their shit honestly, also there's Pain, sabaody return, 2 years gap

A/N: XxX is for Sanji's pov, xXx is for Zoro's, but if you don't remember it's okay you should still figure out who's talking. This OS was written for the ZoSan week, and I would like to thank my beta @blueflamebird for correcting me very quickly and @timeclockdraws who motivated me to write it. Also, he drew something for it in collaboration and he's very talented so you should totally check his art out! Enjoy, and please please please, leave a comment to tell me what you liked or didn't like! Authors never cease to improve.

[Find it on AO3]

“Aah,” The Straw Hat Captain sang, “I can't wait to be back to the Sunny to eat!”

“That's gonna take some time though, Luffy,” Sanji replied. “That fish is delicate seafood.”

“But I'm hungry-” he said as he touched his stomach. “And I'm gonna be boreeed...”

“I'm sure you can figure something out to busy yourself, Luffy-kun,” Robin smiled.

The boy was about to answer but suddenly stopped, as if he'd realized something.

“Wait, where's Zoro?”

Oh, so he did realize something.

Robin and Nami exchanged a look, and Sanji sighed. He should have noticed the shitty marimo wasn't around to bother him.

“Don't tell me-”

“I'm sorry!” Chopper's voice rose. “I didn't notice when he left...”

“You don't have to apologize,” Nami grunted. “That dumbass shouldn't need a baby-sitter to watch him in the first place.”

“Still, I should have...”

“Sanji-kun, could you go find him please?” Robin asked softly. “You always find him quickly.”

“Why don't we just leave him where he lost himself already,” Sanji whispered under his breath.

Luffy pouted. “If Sanji goes who's gonna cook? Chopper can find Zoro by his smell!”

“That does make sense,” Nami said. “Chopper...?”

“I can't smell him right now, but I can try to go back and start from there.”

“I think...” Sanji looked on the left. “He went this way.”

Everyone stared at him.

“You saw him leave?”

The cook scratched his head.

“No. I just have a feeling.”

“We should just ask Usopp or Franky to give him a GPS or put a tracker thing on him already,” Nami sighed.

“Alright I'm going,” Chopper declared. “I'll be back as soon as possible.”

The doctor adopted his reindeer form and left right away. Sanji looked at him as he was running to find Zoro, frowning. He had the sense that it would take more time, somehow.

XXX

“I heard something about soulmates existing in this world,” Usopp said on a boring day on the ocean, trying to get a discussion. “Like something about true love always finding the other soulmate?”

“I wish I could always find a way to meat,” Luffy replied, lying on the deck next to Chopper, looking like a starving kid under the heat. “It's too hot today dammit.”

“Have you been listening to what I said Luffy?” Usopp asked. “It's not about food, it's about soulmates!”

“Meh, if that's not edible...”

The sniper sighed. “You're hopeless.”

“I read a few things about it,” Robin said. “There are a few symptoms describing the feeling that you met your soulmate, but it differs according to people. It can be pretty strong, or weak. Some soulmates never notice they are actually soulmates.”

“Really? What are the common symptoms then?” Nami asked.

“As I said, it depends on the people. Most commonly, this is about being able to find the other without rational explanation. There's a connection between the minds which enables them to find each other without any problem. There isn't a logical answer for this. The reactions can be also physical at some point, but that's for the strongest relationships.”

“Can't that be a bother?”

“Soulmates are legendary, dear sniper. There aren't a lot of work left on this because people stopped believing in those ideas – and my knowledge extends to what I have read so far.”

“You seem to have done some research on this,” Usopp said half-amazed half-surprised.

“Not really,” Robin smiled. “I just happened to see a few things about it.”

“Have you met soulmates before?” Usopp inquired curiously.

“I might. Who knows?” she chuckled.

Usopp slightly frowned, not sure what he was missing – and if he did miss something.

XxX

Zoro was nowhere to be seen, again. That wasn't surprising. What was surprising though, was that the swordsman didn't get lost in the last two islands they visited.

“Who's going?” Usopp asked.

“Chopper's not here, so I'm going!” Luffy happily said.

“Oi,” Sanji snapped. “That's not a game. You're just gonna get lost, too. And that's the last thing we need. I'm going.”

“But-”

“No buts. I'm gonna kick his ass back to this ship, get ready for our return,” Sanji said, more tired than anything else.

“Fine,” Luffy pouted. “But hurry, ok?”

“That's up to the marimo.”

Sanji left them, but instead of going back to their steps, took a different path on the right.

“Sanji...” Usopp stopped him, “This is not where we come from... Don't tell me your orientation is as bad as Zoro's...”

“Urg,” the cook snorted, “Don't compare me to that idiot. I'm just taking a shortcut, don't worry.”

Once Sanji gone, Usopp stared at his Captain.

“We've never been this way...” and he whispered “I think we'll never see them again.”

xXx

The Straw Hat's first mate sat down and checked his swords. He sighed as he cleaned the blood from the blades. He'd ran into some marines who didn't realize today wasn't their lucky day, and realized too late who he was. He couldn't blame them for trying, though. He'd have done the same. Never turn your back from a fight if you want to get stronger.

He put his swords back where they belonged, and stood up, about to look for his way back to the ship again when his body froze. Something electrified his whole body for a second but the shock was so moving his eyes widened. He didn't notice he held his breath until he heard a voice he knew a bit too well.

“Oi, shitty moss-head. You were supposed to be on the boat by now.”

He took a few seconds before turning to the cook, smirking, and ignoring what just happened. That wasn't the first time those symptoms actually appeared. It could just randomly come when he was alone and- wait a minute.

That always happened when Sanji was looking for him.

His annoyance for him must have grown a lot if he could feel his presence like this.

“Shut up,” he glanced at him. “Not my fault if you guys keep losing yourselves.”

Sanji made a face to his words.

“Are you actually fucking kidding me? No nevermind, I don't wanna hear it. Just- let's go back to Sunny alright? And follow me, don't go running around like a stupid baby after a butterfly.”

“The fuck did you just say?”

“You heard me, shitty marimo.”

“I will cut you in half ero-cook,” Zoro grunted as he unsheathed his swords.

Sanji smiled.

“Bring it on.”

XxX

That time, they were looking for Sanji. The cook didn't actually get geographically lost, but did lose track of time as he was choosing new ingredients for the recipe he's been working on. And Zoro found him. In his entire life, Sanji had felt insulted a lot of times, but that one was almost like a joke.

“Bring your ass back to the ship, shitty cook,” Zoro grumbled.

Sanji looked at the swordsman as if he was seeing him for the first time.

“What are you doing here?”

“Been looking for you, the witch is getting mad and I hate to be around her when she's acting like that. So just come back already or she's gonna be unbearable.”

“Wait- what? You- they let you leave to look for me? You?” he articulated.

Zoro frowned.

“No, I left right away to bring your lost ass back, she was pissing me off. Why, what's the matter with that?”

Sanji took a deep breath.

“First of all, you don't freaking call our cute, amazing navigator a witch. Second, I was going to come back, it just took a little bit more time. And I certainly wasn't lost. If there's someone who gets lost here, that's not me.”

His nakama laughed.

“Are you saying I'm getting lost? Man, you guys are always losing your way, and somehow, I always end up finding you.”

“What the fuck? I have always been the one finding you! Not the other way around, don't think too high of yourself marimo, you're gonna be crushed when reality strikes.”

“Reality?”

“You have no idea how to find your way back to the ship. The only reason you do is because you find someone else coming back on your way.”

“Yeah sure, if you want to make up stories to feel better.”

How come the swordsman always managed to piss him off so bad he wanted to smash his face with his feet?

XxX

Sanji started to ask himself questions when it happened for the hundredth time.

That feeling.

He started noticing something was off in Water Seven, and ever since, it got stronger. Little episodes proved him right so far, and he hated that. Somehow, his nakama ended up always asking him to look for Zoro when he was lost now. That became a routine. The shitty marimo wasn't back? Let's send Sanji, what a great idea. Let's send the guy he's always fighting with, because that makes sense. Let's send the guy who's supposed to cook so they will have to wait more for their meal.

But things started to click when even Luffy said something about Sanji always finding a way to bring Zoro back quickly. It was like there was a piece of the puzzle he was missing out. But he was pretty sure this was important.

And, lately? He'd been feeling weird. He'd been feeling weird, but he had no idea how to describe it, and if it was related to what's been happening.

That surely wasn't. He was just mixing everything up. He might have been overthinking again, like he used to.

But still, he couldn't get over this idea.

Something was off. The electrifying shocks running down his spine was happening a bit too much lately. Maybe he'd talk about it to Chopper, if it didn't stop.

xXx

Zoro would probably never forget this moment.

The moment Sanji decided to give up his life for Luffy. The moment Sanji decided Zoro's life was worth more than his own. The moment the shitty cook walked with determination to Kuma, his whole body shivering, barely able to stand up.

The situation was so intense his body reacted in pain. It shivered a bit, too. He could hear the cook's breath – it was bad. And he was panting, too.

He heard him say things he would never have thought hearing from the cook's mouth.

“Kill me and get out of here.”

That wasn't about dying. That was about surviving.

Zoro wanted to sacrifice himself so his nakama could survive, while Sanji was clearly ready to die. It wasn't the same kind of sacrifice at all. And god be his witness even if he wasn't a believer, he wouldn't let the shitty cook do that. Over his dead body, ironically.

“I'm just as ready to sacrifice myself as he is,” he stated.

No you're not. This is a lie. This is a call for death.

“I've fed people my whole life, and now I'll feed the worms.”

What the fuck was he talking about? He lowered his voice, and told Zoro to tell everyone goodbye for him. The swordsman felt angry more than anything else. That was just cruel. That was not how things worked.

“You'll have to find a new cook.”

As if.

The hardest thing to do wasn't to hit him. It didn't even feel like hitting him. It felt like the right thing to do. He kept his nakama from doing something stupid. He saved his life.

No, the hardest thing was to feel his grip on his shoulder after he got hit, and his hand slowly falling on his arm, like a painful caress.

As soon as Sanji lost consciousness, he lost a certain weight of pressure, and smiled. That was for the best.

XxX

He was suffocating. There was an overwhelming feeling – a pressure he couldn't get rid of – and he couldn't breathe. He couldn't seem to breathe. His whole body seemed dumb, and he wondered how come he could still stand up and walk. When he woke up, his first thought went for the marimo.

He'd hit him from behind. He'd betrayed him.

If he wasn't being devoured by worry and that freaking pressure, he would come to him and scream at him.

Because he had no right to do that. He had no fucking right to hit him, to make him pass out like he could decide and do anything he wanted. Roronoa freaking Zoro.

Sanji stumbled on the ruins of rocks that fell and broke during the fights. Those had been huge battles. Luffy had given everything he could against Oz. And then- the Shikibukai. He stood up for what he believed was right and- god fucking dammit.

He couldn't breathe. He fell on his knees and tried to focus on his breathing. Getting those flashbacks wasn't a great idea. His mind was going crazy.

He'd never panicked so much before.

He realized Luffy was awake a bit late, as if his brain was starting to open to the outside world. His laugh and the other's talks sounded unreal.

The cook stood up again, and he had no idea how long it took for him to get back on his feet. Maybe too long. His sight was a bit blurry. He'd been through a lot, too. After all, a giant zombie did smash him several times in a row.

He did a few steps – not a lot, but the effort made was so great, it seemed to take forever – before seeing Zoro's swords. Zoro's swords- something Zoro would never leave behind. And then- he ran. His muscles didn't care about pain – and if he was in pain, he didn't feel anything at the moment. His body just moved on its own. His heart was racing as if it was trying to get out of his chest.

He didn't really care where he was going – he knew where Zoro was. He had no idea how, but he knew where to find him. His breathing was still heavy, but if he focused – he could ignore it, and actually get better.

The electricity came back, again. He froze, and looked on his left.

Here he was. Standing there, among the ruins, crossed arms, proud. And him-? All he felt at this very moment was relief. The pressure seemed to leave a bit, and he joined the swordsman. He started talking- because that felt like denying everything that happened. That felt like nothing changed. Sanji didn't want anything to change- and he wanted to chase away that feeling he'd kept inside – fear.

But then, he saw it. Zoro's state. He saw the blood on his body. He saw the blood on the ground. He opened his mouth but nothing came, at first.

He panicked again. He screamed his name. His voice broke in the first syllable, and he had to do it again to hear himself say it right. Because that mattered.

“What the fuck is all this blood?!” he heard himself yell at his nakama. Was he still alive? He was still standing, so he was alive, right? He couldn't be dead, not Zoro. He couldn't just die like that. He had no fucking right to die after doing that to him, he had no right, he couldn't.

He was getting hysterical. The pressure was getting a lot stronger now. His brain was boiling. His breathing was harsh. Zoro's eyes were red with blood. His voice was broken when he replied to his last question: What happened?

“Absolutely nothing.”

Bullshit.

Bullshit bullshit bullshit.

He'd been standing up next to him, for him, for Luffy, for his nakama. He refused to let Zoro sacrifice himself – he had dreams, those dreams that made him so strong, those dreams that made Sanji join the crew. Zoro's conviction meant something to Sanji. He wasn't going to let him throw it away. And yet – and yet he did as usual, he just did whatever he wanted to do.

He'd stood up in front of the Shikibukai, or – no he'd stood up between the shikibukai and Zoro, Zoro who was sitting on the floor, when he was standing up for his resolutions. He remembers his body was shivering, but his mind was set up. His life wasn't worth that much, anyway.

What on earth had this idiot been doing?

...

He hated this man so much.

XxX

The pressure never left since Thriller Bark. It was somewhere in his head, and Sanji couldn't get rid of it. So he just adapted. He got used to it.

It became something normal. Sometimes, it would get weaker, and rarely stronger. He noticed after a while that it actually grew weaker and weaker time after time. He guessed that was something good.

He didn't really talk to Chopper about it. He didn't really know why either. That didn't feel like something important, and he could handle it anyway.

xXx

The pain came back so quickly. Only one push. He felt so weak. Just avoiding Kuma's laser beams were painful. That was not supposed to go this way.

This Kuma looked so different.

He was the first mate, for fuck's sake. He had to protect his nakama.

The swordsman moved forward, and heard Luffy and Sanji screaming his name. But no one gave him enough time to attack – first Chopper, then Franky, Brook and Usopp. After Luffy beat Kuma – or rather PX-4 – they barely had time to rest before Sentoumaru and another Kuma appeared. PX-1 seemed to be like PX-4, exploding things around.

“He doesn't have pads,” Sanji noticed. “I didn't want to think about it, but that makes him the third! What's going on?!”

“Rather than wondering about that, it'd be safer to run away right now,” Zoro replied.

Because he knew they – he – couldn't fight the way they were right now. It wouldn't end well. He underlined it to the shitty cook.

“If we get into another fight now, someone will definitely die! Let's run before we meet another admiral...!”

Luffy's approval froze both Sanji and Zoro's hearts. Running away from a fight didn't sound like him. Zoro knew they had to, but hearing his captain approval – that was striking. The situation was bad – oh, so bad. They had to split up.

“The three of us should split!”

“Sure,” the shitty cook approved. “Are you gonna be alright?” he asked Zoro.

“Shut up,” he replied angrily. He wasn't hurt enough to allow the damn cook worry about him.

Sanji left to protect Nami with Franky, which didn't surprise Zoro one bit. Usopp jumped on him as PX-1 attacked them, and he had to admit he was wounded for the sniper to let go of him.

“Do not worry,” Brook said, “I shall cover for you. Your injuries still haven't healed, right? To tell the truth, I saw your act of self-sacrifice back on Thriller Bark!”

Nothing went right.

Everything seemed unreal. Like a huge nightmare.

It happened so fast – of course, it made sense later, Kizaru was a light man because of the Pika Pika devil fruit's powers. A beam went through his body, and he heard himself scream in inhuman pain.

The admiral was talking, but he could barely focus on his own breathing. He heard Usopp's screams. He couldn't move – he couldn't move at all. He had to, but it was so hard, so freaking hard – how did standing up become so hard to do? He used to do it all the time. He saw more light, and he knew.

He knew he wouldn't make it, this time. Somewhere, Luffy yelled.

Everything was so noisy and distant. He wasn't sure he heard Chopper crying.

Hands made him move, and the pain rose. He could feel his mind slipping to unconsciousness. Kizaru's foot hit him and his face ate the ground. The hands kept trying to make him escape, hopelessly.

Somehow, he heard perfectly well those words.

“It's useless. You'll die now.”

He guessed his nakama were screaming, and he almost passed out when he clearly heard Sanji's scream, which was way more distinct than the others, as if he was screaming inside his head.

XxX

Never in his entire life had Sanji felt like this. Not even during his childhood.

That terror.

He'd seen PX-1 running after Usopp – Usopp carrying Zoro, half-dead. He knew he was alive, he knew it, but his whole body couldn't stop shivering – he was in a state of over-reaction. He hit him – but his leg reacted oddly and he fell. He immediately recognized the symptoms – just like in Thriller Bark. He could barely breathe. It wasn't as bad, but he'd forgotten how striking it was.

The Fake Kuma walked towards Usopp and Zoro. Usopp was alright – but he'd dropped the first mate, who wasn't even moving. His instinct kept telling him he was alive, and he held onto this conviction. He grabbed PX-1's foot out of despair, his body moving on its own.

“Wait, you damn bastard-”

PX-1 dragged him in his steps as if he'd been nothing but a bug he didn't even care about enough to take out. And then, it did. It – it wasn't human – did care. Sanji felt his body leaving the ground, and his heart raced. He wondered how his body could handle so much stress and tension. The pressure, so much stronger when Kizaru appeared, was now weakening and for some reason, he was scared it would disappear.

The beam hit him without even an inch of distance. It hit him in the very same hand that was holding him.

A few minutes later which seemed to be an eternity, when he forced himself to look up again, another Kuma was here. That Kuma had pads.

He couldn't feel the swordsman's presence anymore.

Zoro had vanished.

Along with the pressure.

XxX

That would sound masochist, but Sanji was so happy when the pressure came back. It was a bit weak, but it came back. It didn't hurt him. After a while, it did, like a headache. But he knew that was a good thing.

In a gap of two years, it was finally time to find everyone back again. When he reached the island, he somehow felt like fishing, and took the directions an old lady had given him – a shop on the beach at Grove 42. Once he got there, he met the owner – a man who really seemed shocked, staring at the sea.

“What's the matter?”

“He's gone!” the man said. “The green-haired man!”

The old man narrated his story, and Sanji sighed. He hadn't changed one bit, had he?

“Green hair, three swords and a belly warmer?”

“Yeah, and he has a deep scar on his eye. Do you know him?”

That last statement surprised Sanji, so he showed him a poster of Zoro he had on him.

“Oh yeah! This is the guy! Is he your friend?”

“Well, I only know him a little,” the cook lied, smiling.

And then he carried on his story.

That damn marimo.

He managed to confuse two boats, one being a tiny simple fisher boat, and the other being a huge ass pirate ship. The worst part in this was that it was normal.

And so he'd left for the Fishmen Island.

He was already tired of the damn swordsman's shit.

“That idiot! I thought it was unlike him to show up first, I knew he'd do something like this.”

He was already preparing his speech to Luffy, telling everyone to try and find Zoro underwater, in the freaking Fishmen Island- when the sea started bubbling, and something came up- it looked like pieces of a boat.

“You bastard! How dare you ruin our dream to go to the New World!?” screamed someone – surely the captain of the ship.

A shadow, sat on the mast, holding a sword, replied in a deep voice.

“It's a quirk of fate. You should blame your own fate that brought a plague onto your ship.”

Sanji wanted to facepalm. How could he say such things when he was to blame for inviting himself on their ship?

“Oh, he's back,” he simply said instead. “I couldn't care less about him,” he added, lying again.

XxX

“Oi, moss-head, you gotta stay with me! I don't want you getting lost,” Sanji smirked.

“Huh? Who do you think you're talking to, moustache eyebrow?”

That was low.

“What did you just say?! Oh- that smells good,” he said as he approached something which was being cooked, completely losing sight of the swordsman.

Whatever. He'd find him again later. They always ended up finding each other, even if they didn't want to.

And he did find him later. Only to fight more with him.

“I wanna go to sea. I wanna fish.”

What was he, five?

“No, you can't, shithead!”

“Why can't I? Why should I listen to you?!”

“Do you think I'm walking with you because I want to?!”

It was half a lie. He missed that. Those little useless fights. Two years felt like a very long time.

“Dammit,” Zoro sighed. “How could No. 7 talk bossily to No. 1?”

Urgh, no he just didn't-

“Why are you ranking us in the order of our arrival?! You got here first by chance, don't get carried away!”

“Okay, I'm sorry... No. 7.”

He regretted everything. Just take that idiot away from him now. That jerk hadn't changed one bit and he was already sick of his behavior. As rude as before. As stupid as before.

“I will fight you...!” Sanji yelled.

And Zoro smiled before he took out his swords.

Reblogs, tags, likes and comments are always appreciated :D

#zosan #sanzo #marimocookweek2017 #roronoa zoro #sanji vinsmoke #one piece #fanfic #fanfiction #plume8now #timeclockdraws #collab #it was so fun to write again and i cant believe i did it only because i was sick

53 notes · View notes

tilltheendwilliwrite · 7 years

Text

Soft Names, Soft Touches

Chapter Three

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Bucky x OC | Word Count: 8.5K+

Warnings: Swearing. Fluff. Russian that may or may not be correct. Mild sexual content.

The next morning after having indulged thoroughly in Nat’s wine, Wanda’s chocolate, and an excessive amount of embarrassing talk of a highly inappropriate nature, Franki woke to find herself wrapped around Natasha in her ginormous bed with an incredibly warm Wanda pressed against her back. She was the middle meat of a female sandwich that had come to fruition thanks to too much alcohol.

Unlike the two giant beasts that called themselves super soldiers, her small frame and serum had not given her the advanced metabolism that allowed her to burn through the alcohol as fast as she drank it. Food yes, liquor no. She could get drunk, ridiculously so, but at least she always woke up hangover free. However, this had led to her current predicament in which she was stuck between the two women, and slowly beginning to panic.

Nat was fine. Nat was normal. Nat had become almost an addiction for she was the only one that didn’t cause her skin to react, or that innate sense of panic to form in her chest.

Wanda was not Nat.

“Blesk, I need you to let go,” Franki murmured, gently nudging the woman, not wanting to offend but needing out of bed right fucking now. When Wanda stirred but only tighten her grip, the mild panic became full-blown terror. “OFF!” Franki screamed, shoving with all her strength, far harder than she meant to, sending Wanda back first into the wall opposite the bed.

The woman hit with a deafening crash, red waves of power rising around her before she snapped open her eyes and took in her surroundings. “Oh, oh, god…” Franki murmured, hands to her mouth as Natasha sat bolt upright, gun in hand, and Vision materialized through an adjoining wall, his concern piqued with the rise of Wanda’s powers. “Blesk … I am… I am… so sorry… so sorry… so…”

Franki’s breath was coming in fits of gasping that Nat knew meant a full-blown meltdown was imminent. “Franki, Wanda’s alright. Aren’t you, Wanda?” she asked just to make sure, having been on the receiving end of that push herself once or twice and got a nod of agreement.

“What happens here?” Vision asked calmly, crouching beside Wanda before peering in confusion at Franki. “Francessca?”

“Sorry, so sorry…” The door to Nat’s room banged hard against the wall as Steve, Sam and Bucky raced in, guns in hand, having followed after the concerned Vision. Their arrival made her flinch backwards and run into Nat. The flesh to flesh contact was more than she could take, and Franki scuttled away to the headboard where she curled her knees to her chest and panted. A constant stream of sorry’s spilled incessantly from her lips and she was finding it very hard to breathe.

“Nat?” Steve asked, looking between the three women, finally settling on the redhead in the bed for an explanation.

“Slumber party got a little… cuddly. She was doing fine until she woke up.” Scooting closer to Franki, Natasha stopped instantly when panicked silver eyes swept her way. They were nearly icy with dread, and she held up her hands. “Franki, we talked about this last night. We wanted to help you, remember? You agreed to this. We were good.” The three of them had crashed together, each with their own blanket, to help Franki get used to people randomly touching her.

“Wanda… wrapped… too much contact….” Franki gasped, looking to the scarlet haired woman that continued to sit with Vision.

“Oh, Franki,” Wanda whispered sadly, reading the other woman’s thoughts easily. “This is all my fault.” She’d always been one to latch on to her bedmate.

“No… no… no…” The panic was too great. There were too many people staring at her. She felt like a freak, a fool, a… failure. “Me… it’s me. It’s always me.” Leaping from the bed, starling the guys into jumping out of the way, Franki ran out the door, careened into the wall when her feet slipped and headed down the hallway.

“Is she running on that leg? On her broken fucking leg!?” Bucky bellowed, staring at the air cast left beside the bed.

“Barnes!” Natasha snarled. “Leave her be.”

“No,” He snarled right back. Slapping his gun into Steve’s chest, he turned on his heel and chased after Franki. There was only one place she would go when she was this upset. The same place she always went. The pool.

“I want an explanation,” Steve snapped, turning back to Nat and Wanda, both now sitting sheepishly on the edge of Nat’s bed. Neither was dressed in any way that he would consider appropriate for a debriefing, a realization that made him clear his throat and turn swiftly around, “Er… once you’re dressed,” he mumbled, stalking from the room.

Sam grinned at them both until Vision stepped into his line of sight, effectively cutting off the view. “I’m going. I’m going.” Sam chortled, raising his hands in surrender. “Three gorgeous women all cuddle up together. Damn! Should’a run faster.”

“Ladies.” Vision murmured, rolling his eyes at Sam’s back and shutting the door to Natasha’s room behind him.

“Natasha, I am so sorry,” Wanda murmured, turning to face her. They had all been very drunk. Perhaps this had been a really bad idea.

Shaking her head, Nat sighed. “No, it was the right call. Franki will see that when she calms down. Probably should have put her on the outside,” she muttered, but drunk Natasha was rarely well thought out. “She did make it through the whole night.” Nat smiled at Wanda. “It was only her surprise, the fact that she’d been stuck, that had her reacting so extremely.” Natasha had to believe their idea was a good one, a way to help Franki take a step forward, and not the setback it appeared. “Let’s go face the music,” she rolled her eyes, not at all concerned with Steve and his bluster.

Slamming through the door to the indoor pool, Franki took three long strides and dove straight in. The water closed around her, refreshing and comforting, cocooning her in silence and shutting down the panicky sensation. Floating in the abyss of blessed nothingness, she pressed her hands to her face and curled in on herself. Feeling the movement of her hair as it swirled around her, she prayed she might drown to escape the embarrassment of her mortifying morning.

When arms wrapped around her, dragging her to the surface, she sent a sharp elbow into the ribs of the person who held her and followed it with a swift backhand to the face as she broke the surface; one that never connected. Gasping for air, Franki struggled against the tight vice that had clamped around her wrist until the deep timber of a familiar voice cut through her swiftly returning panic.

“Francessca, breathe, moya zvezdochka,” Bucky murmured softly. Seeing her huddled beneath the surface of the water, curled up like a distraught child, had so broken his heart he’d slipped in after her to drag her to the surface so she could catch a breath.

“Let go!” He did, and she swam quickly to the edge of the pool where she pushed her sopping wet hair out of her face. Panting softly, Franki dug her nails into the lip of the pool and squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to calm the pounding of her heart.

Quietly, Bucky called out, “Friday, full scan of Franki. What’s the damage?” It took a few seconds for the AI to finish before she started speaking.

“Francessca has compromised the break in her leg. It has cracked across the previous fractures. Her ribs have also taken significant damage from running into walls.”

Sighing, Franki rested her head on her arms, folded over the edge of the pool while she floated listlessly in the water. “Another day…” She’d be out of commission even longer now.

Approaching slowly, aware that she was as skittish as a deer, Bucky watched her watch him warily from the corner of her eye. “Just breathe, malyutka. I won’t touch you.” She always responded better to the Russian than to his usual forties lingo.

He’d hated the Russian language he’d learned as the Winter Soldier. It was merely another way for Hydra to strip him of his identity, pull another layer of his American heritage from him, and he’d hated speaking it ever since.

Until Francessca. It was her native tongue, one she slipped into frequently, her accent growing heavy when something upset or disturbed her. She could sound as American as Captain America himself when she wanted to, but, at times like this, her heritage slipped in, made her voice husky, sensual, a sound he adored that drew him to her. A moth to her brilliant flame. And he pulled that hated language to the surface, for her, for it calmed her considerably when he did.

For her, he could do it.

For her, he would do almost anything.

Turning her face into her arms, Franki took a shaky breath. He said he wouldn’t touch, but he kept coming closer, treading water a few feet away. The water was soothing. A single layer of uniform pressure, no different than her bodysuit. “Is Wanda alright?”

“She was fine,” Bucky murmured, metal fingers closing gently on the pool wall a few inches from her elbow. “I’m more concerned with you.”

She snorted softly into her crossed arms. “Oh, I’m fine. Fucked up, but fine.”

“We’re all some level of fucked up, doll face. Hell, look at me.” He’d been a whole basket of screwed before his time in Wakanda. Even now he still had his moments. Nights when he fought the monsters and the demons in his memory; when the nightmares took him.

Sighing softly, she peeked out at him floating much closer than he had been. “Least you can let people touch you.”

“Not always,” he told her honestly. “Not back when I first started to remember who I had been. Steve was the only one.”

Turning her head so she could see him with both eyes, Franki murmured, “How did you do it?” It made her curious for, though she’d heard things about him from his time in Wakanda, and what Hydra had done to him, he’d seemed relatively well adjusted since the programming for the Winter Soldier had been negated. He had rarely spoken of his issues to her.

Bucky shrugged, “Little things. Nat’s affectionate, she hugs. Wanda was a glancing brush down the arm. Sam shoulder bumps and Tony nudges with his elbow. They do these things so… subconsciously, you get used to them.”

“I can’t…” she whispered turning away from him, not wanting to see the pity. “Tony carried me to Nat’s room. Fifty-three and a half seconds. Twenty-nine breaths. Thirty-two steps. I nearly put my fist through his face. Wanda cuddled… god… cuddled me and I lost my damn mind.” Water shifted, splashed against her, and she immediately stiffened. “Bucky?”

“Relax, I’m not touching you.” He shifted, so he floated behind her, arms caging her against the wall but he kept distance between them. After what she’d said on the quinjet, he wasn’t letting her get away from him until he figured out if it had been her speaking her feelings or the head injury making her say things she really didn’t mean. “Turn around.”

She didn’t want to, afraid of what she’d see in his eyes, on his face, when she did, but he was a stoic force that she knew had the patience of a glacier, immovable, and would refuse to let her leave until she did as he wanted. Sighing, she spun slowly, keeping her grip on the wall and keeping as close to it as she could. Her eyes landed on his chest. His t-shirt stuck to him above the water line and floated out towards her beneath it, allowing for a strip of flesh to peek out the bottom.

Letting her eyes travel up, they hesitated on a droplet of water, following it as it streaked down his neck and disappeared into his shirt collar. More droplets glistened in the scruff of his morning beard, beaded on his upper lip, dripped from the tips of his shoulder-length hair, and hung in the lashes that framed his crystalline eyes. The brilliant blue was piercing, holding her in place, but there was no pity in them. They were filled with kindness, understanding, and something she hadn’t seen very often… hope. “Bucky?” she whispered, uncertain what it all meant.

“Touch me,” he murmured, eyes falling to her lips but no further. He’d gotten a glimpse of the pajamas she had on, small, tight, curve-hugging and nearly shear in the water. He didn’t need the second glimpse to fill his nights with fantasy, not when the image was already ingrained.

“Wh-what?” she stuttered, eyes popping wide.

“You don’t like being touched. It takes away your control of the situation, so, touch me instead. Take control, use it. I won’t move, doll.” No matter how fucking hard it was. “You can do as you please and I promise not to touch you.”

She opened her mouth to protest, refuse, but his shirt floated up against his chest, and tantalizing glimpses of tanned flesh had her biting her lip. She’d never touched a man, not like this. Not because she wanted to, was invited to. Sure she’d thrown an endless number of punches and kicks, spilled the blood of thousands and killed at least a few hundred, but she’d never desired to touch. Not like this. Not soft touches. “Softness is equal to weakness,” she whimpered, eyes hung up on the flesh distorted by the water.

“That’s bullshit Hydra programming, Franki. You and I both know it.” Bucky growled, watching the silver of her eyes darken into a steely grey, a flush filling her cheeks most pleasingly. “Moya zvezdochka, take back what was taken,” he coaxed. Pulling his hand slowly from the wall, he carefully peeled his shirt from his body, guiding it over the metal arm that held him stationary, giving her unrestricted access to his skin. When her lips parted, a sensual moan falling from them and her eyes partially closed, he knew she was as captivated by him as he was her. Her words from the other day couldn’t have just been her slightly scrambled brain. Now, if only he could pry his soft name from her lips.

Returning his hand to the wall, keeping her there between his arms, he placed his shirt up on the ledge. He was afraid to throw it in case the sound of its wet landing broke her from this sensual trance, and he was very careful to make sure no part dangled in the water in case it brushed against her accidentally. He would not break this small show of trust for anything. “Touch me, Franki. Please.”

Something about his voice made her head spin, and she lost all resistance. Tentatively, hesitating every few inches, she reached towards the skin that so beckoned her. The wet on it made it glisten, and her mouth went bone dry begging for a taste. It shocked her for she wanted to slide her tongue over all that gorgeous flesh, taste every inch of what he offered, something that had never happened before, but she only pressed the tips of her nails to his bulging pectoral. It twitched slightly, and she flinched but didn’t draw away. He was so warm, much warmer than the water, and she wondered what it would be like to press against him without armour and uniforms between them. Her outfit made her feel strong, protected. Like this, she was vulnerable, uncertain of herself. But her skin was humming, humming as if it craved contact with this incredible man.

Flattening her hand, she trailed it over taught flesh, tracing the outlines that defined each individual muscle and slowly opened up with the contact. “I know nothing of soft touches. Only brutal ones. Ones that are expected to elicit pain. Hard blows that knock you across the room, demanding that you stay down, but that is not my way. I fight, snegopad, because it is what I know. I jump when perhaps I should wait because…” She swallowed past the lump in her throat, “Because… it still seems unreal to me that I have comrades I can depend on.”

“Franki–” He began, but the hand that had been holding the ledge behind her was suddenly pressing fingers to his lips. He was sure his eyes showed how angry that sentence made him, but he kept silent when she released his lips, trailing her fingers along his cheek and down to wrap lightly at the back of his neck where it toyed softly with his hair. It was only then she released the tight grip she’d taken on his shoulder, keeping her buoyant but away from him.

“I was all alone in that place. No one watched my back. It was everyone for themselves, or they would gang up against me. I was the best, and I was hated for it. When I was young, I refused to comply, would not do the missions, and often failed to complete the tasks set for me. I would not be Hydra’s pawn and often defied them.” Her fingers walked the distance across his collarbone. “I wanted them to kill me, preferring death to the hell I was living. I almost succeeded once. They put me in a room with another of your kind. He was not the Winter Soldier, but he was almost as good.”

Shocked, he could only stare at her, her eyes never lifting from where they followed her fingers. “How… why?” he asked.

“Death would have been a welcome escape after so many years at their mercy, but, I heard them talking, the foolish Chinese, as if Mandarin was an unknown language,” she snorted softly in derision. “They spoke of the Black Widow, a name I knew and of Captain America, one I did not, but, the more I listened, the more I understood. I knew she fought with the ones called the Avengers, had turned to a different side, and if I could wait long enough perhaps, they would find the Hydra base I was in. They were working their way ever closer after all. But I had… miscalculated my previous petulance.”

Her fingers crossed over to the opposite pectoral, trailing up to touch his scars, and he swallowed rather hard to keep the groan from escaping. “How so?”

His voice had dropped to a deep timber, husky, and his temperature had risen. All signs of arousal. Perhaps, even with all her crazy, he could – maybe – like her, too. “I had been exceptionally defiant for a few months when they put me in the room that day. The one waiting for me, his eyes were dead inside,” Something she couldn’t imagine ever seeing in Bucky’s face. “I knew it was perform or die, so I performed.”

One did not just walk away from an enhanced super soldier like him. “How bad?” She looked away, and he had his answer, but he pushed her anyway, needing to know. “How many days were you in the infirmary, Franki?”

Sighing softly, tracing her fingers down his breastbone, she murmured, “Twelve.”

The tiles beneath his metal hand cracked loudly causing her to startle. “Easy. Easy, malyutka.”

The sound practically vibrated between them and made her gasp softly before continuing. “When I healed from all the internal and external damage without a single scar I became interesting again. It became the thing to do. Beat me until I could not walk, not an easy feat when I would aggressively resist, and see how long it took for me to heal. The others took great pleasure in this, but, still, the scientists could not decipher my genetic code. I was a mystery for every sample they took deteriorated quickly. I had to be alive for them to collect new ones. Overnight I went from being Weapon F to subject 7.” Sighing, feeling the waves of hatred wash from him, she lightly touched his upper most abdominals. They were so… hard it was astounding. “So you see, snegopad, my experience with people is… limited. It is difficult, even after almost a year, to trust there is someone who has my back. I know you are there, but in the heat of the moment I simply… do for myself.” And everyone had jobs to do. Why should they be dragged away to save her when she could, usually, save herself.

Bucky inhale and exhaled, tried to take in all she said, sighing with how painful it had been to hear, but it helped him understand her a little better. She’d said more to him in the past forty eight hours than she’d said in months. “Jeez, doll… rip a guy’s heart out why don’t yah.”

“What?” Eyes darting up, she found deep blue pools of sorrow.

“You go and tell a guy all that and he can’t even hug you? It’s cruel,” he murmured, trying to keep his tone light though his heart was broken.

A twitch pulled at his lips and she relaxed a little, her palm flattening to his stomach. “You tease me, snezhinka?”

“Snowflake, now? Damn, doll. Cut a guy a break,” he chuckled, only to nearly grunt when her nails pressed into his stomach.

He was trying to help her, lighten things, make her feel better and she was drawn to him even more for it. “Bucky?” she whispered, floating barely inches from him, much closer than when she’d started.

“Yeah?” he breathed out just as softly, aware on a certain level that she was much closer than before.

She wanted so badly to be normal, feel normal. To have normal relationships. To touch a man without fear, be touched without feeling like screaming, and to know what it felt like to kiss someone. She craved love, craved affection, but had refused to let herself do so because it had always seemed hopeless. How could one know love when touch was impossible? But now… with him… “Can I… can I… try something?”

“Anything, malyutka.” She could do whatever she wanted as long as she wasn’t running from him.

His blue eyes were nearly sapphire pools when she peered into them. “Don’t… don’t move… okay?”

“Da. You have my word,” he vowed.

Lifting her hand slowly from the water, Franki placed it gently against his cheek. The stubble there tingled but didn’t make her skin want to crawl. It hummed again, buzzing with the contact, and she crept a little closer.

Her eyes drifting down to his lips caused every cell in his body to inhale and hold perfectly still. Would she? Could she? Do not grab her. Do not grab her. Do not grab her. He chanted the mantra like a prayer, forcing himself to stay calm, relaxed, and still when he was anything but.

“A soft touch…” she whispered, “A soft touch is not weakness…”

His heart ached for her. “Not weakness…” he whispered back. “Pleasure…” he coaxed, eyes falling to lush red lips. He had often thought she was a living rendition of Snow White, a movie he had seen before the war when it had first come to theaters. Hair of dark chestnut was the only deviation from the story of milk white skin and red lips.

“Pleasure…” Nat seemed to think she could feel it, so did Wanda whose snooping mind had unlocked dreams that were too embarrassing to speak about aloud. Three bottles of wine later and she’d described them in detail to Nat’s smug satisfaction and Wanda’s sly grin.

He held himself perfectly still as her lips closed the distance until they pressed feather light to his. Fire erupted in his core with the simple brush of skin and he moved only enough to tilt his head and press a bit firmer, kissing back gently.

Bit by bit she deepened the kiss, finding the taste of him intoxicating in a way wine had never been. A quiet moan slipped from her when the shiver streaked her body to center in her abdomen. Parting to breathe, she panted a little and latched eyes with Bucky. “Oh,” she whispered, fingers flying to her tingling lips. “My first…”

“Yeah.” He could tell and it made him so damn hard. Her innocence was drugging and the tiles beneath his hands had cracked further with his determination not to grab her and never let go. “Again, moya zvezdochka?”

My star. He’d called her that earlier, and little one as well, neither of which she minded. “Da, snegopad,” she breathed against his lips, unaware that she wrapped her arm behind his neck and pulled herself flush to his chest until warmth began to seep into her chilled body.

The second kiss was a little fuller, a little firmer, still so very innocent, and he reveled in it. Relished the press of her soft body to his. The way her skin felt against him. Wanting to push her a bit but not spook her, he gently flicked his tongue against her lips and was pleasantly surprised when they parted on a breathy sigh. Nipping gently, he tugged her lip between his teeth before slipping his tongue slowly into her mouth. She froze for but a second before fingers were threading through his hair and her frame was pressed even harder against him. Dear, sweet Jesus! She was killing him.

Tingles of sensation erupted all over her skin, on every plane and surface that touched his. It had never done that before, accepted another’s contact so willingly. But Bucky had never touched her directly before either. They sparred occasionally. He’d carted her around a few times, but she’d always been fully clothed. This was so very different. “Snegopad,” she sighed when his lips moved to her jaw. “Touch me.”

His heart stuttered. “Really?” he asked, stunned, pulling back enough to see her face.

“Unless… you don’t want to?” she teased quietly.

Silver eyes held both uncertainty and amusement, a wickedly enticing combination. “Which hand, Franki?”

“Both…” She moaned, “You’re touch… I need it.” His hands were suddenly on her, cool metal and hot flesh, legs tangling as he gave a push to the wall that had them floating towards shallower water where he could plant his feet and keep them from going under.

“You will tell me if it gets to be too much, malyutka,” he purred the words near her ear, hardly daring to believe this was happening after wanting her for so long.

“Da, Sergeant,” she quipped softly, unable to focus much at all past the feeling of his hands on her back. Blind eyes stared towards the ornate ceiling above the pool, lost to the sensation of hot and cold trailing across her spine. They both burned through her, pleasure so profound she had to bite her tongue to keep from crying out.

Satin camisole and little lace edged shorts were hardly a barrier to his wandering hands, but he kept the touches innocent. Slow, soft touches. Gentle movements across skin grown warm, flushed red where they made contact, as if her blood rushed to the area in response to his call. Chest deep in the water, feet planted wide and the woman he adored hanging from his neck, Bucky found a new piece of himself. A tender piece he’d thought lost to the trauma of his past. A piece that wanted to show this sweet, adorable, slightly broken woman that not all touch was bad.

While his metal hand closed on her waist, holding her gently against him, the flesh one drew fingers up her spine. Splayed out, covering more of her skin that way, she could feel the tip of his middle finger dance slowly up her vertebrae, touching each small protrusion before moving on to the next. Groaning, Franki arched her body into his, luxuriating in the sensation, shuddering hard when gentle lips suddenly pressed to her throat. “Ya mechtal ob etom dne vsyu svayu zshisn.” She had dreamt about this day all her life. “Ya tebya chuvstvuyu, ya tebya chuvstvuyu, snegopad,”

I can feel you, I can feel you, snowfall… She had dreamed of touching, of being touched and her voice cried out, joy and disbelief warring together. Lifting his head, his slowly journeying hand coming to rest at the base of her skull, cradling her head in his large palm, Bucky looked down into the shocked and elated eyes of the woman who held his heart and smiled. “U teb’a prelesnye hlaza.” Her eyes were so beautiful, even with the tears that dripped from them. Her body quaked, shivering from the intensity of the emotion washing through her and he slowly lowered his head to lightly brush their lips together. “Moya zvezdochka, you knocked me on my ass the moment I met you.” Slowly, he brought his metal hand up out of the water to gently caress her cheek. The new sensation had her eyelids fluttering shut and her lips parting on a soft gasp. “Franki, I’ve wanted to ask for a while, longed to ask and always chickened out, but now, would you be my girl?”

Her eyes snapped open to stare up at him in wonder. Again that simple emotion, hope, hung in his eyes. “Bucky, I am a whole bag of screwed up,” she whispered, toying with the hair her fingers had tangled in. “Just because I can take your touch today, doesn’t mean I will be able to stand it tomorrow.”

“Then let’s empty the bag, doll. One object at a time until you find yourself again. Let me help you.” Drawing his finger over her cheek, a soft whimper spilled from her throat, and he tenderly kissed her lips. “I can be a very patient man,” he whispered, tracing his lips across her jaw. “Besides, can’t you feel it, doll? Your body cries out for mine. Your skin aches for my touch. It flushes beneath my hand. It will not reject me tomorrow or any day in the future.” Some instinct in him just knew she was his to treasure.

He might be right, but he could also be so very wrong. If he was wrong, if, someday in the future, he reached for her and her skin crawled, it would break her heart so completely she thought she might die. “They are still looking for me…” Hydra had lost their experiment and didn’t take kindly to such things.

“They look for me, too, malyutka. We can take them down together.” Hydra would continue to try and get him back any chance they got. It was why he continued to live in the tower or the compound.

Teeth caught her earlobe and she was lost for a moment, stuck on the way each tug seemed to pull at something in her belly. A very pleasurable something. “Snegopad,” she moaned quietly, clenching her fist in his hair.

“Say it again,” he coaxed, nearly pleaded, before nipping at her pulse beating so fast in her throat.

“Snegopad…” she sighed, pulling her body flush to his again.

“Say you’ll be mine,” he murmured, “My best girl. Let me help you, protect you, be with you, Francessca.” When she hesitated still, he breathed against her ear, “Ya veryu v tebya.”

I believe in you…

A broken inhalation, a gasp of emotion, a wonder filled cry escaped Franki’s lips. No one had ever said such things to her before. “Da… ya tvoya devushka.”

I am your girl. Bucky breathed out against her before lifting his head and capturing her mouth, drawing her closer until their flesh melded together. His tongue darted over her lips, slipped between, twisted and danced with her untrained one, stroked it firmly and sucked it gently when she made a tentative foray towards him. A wicked groan built in his chest, one that had to be released when her teeth lightly sank into his lip. She appeared to be a fast learner.

His arms had tightened, caged her against him, and she had a wave of overwhelming sensation pound through her body. It was intense, unfocused, almost terrifying it was so strong. She had never felt anything like it and ripped her mouth from Bucky’s. “Stop!” she cried out, breath coming in little gasps and pants. His hands immediately released her and she swam to the edge of the pool.

Terror had filled her eyes, lightening them back to liquid silver and he felt his heart plummet. “Belosnezhka,” he murmured, keeping his distance. “Was I too forceful, doll?”

A small chuckle escaped her. “Snow White, am I?” Waiting for her heart to calm, she breathed slowly at the water’s edge. “It was not you, Bucky. I… feel and I am unused to the sensations your touch creates. It is… good but potent.”

To go from feeling nothing to feeling everything must be difficult and a little frightening. Swimming closer, he kept space between them before softly touching her waist. A groan, wanton, full of desire, escaped her lips but he didn’t follow through on the need to simply take her right then and there and make her his. “We will go slow, doll. Promise. You take the lead and I’ll follow.”

“Really?” she whispered, astounded again. He was giving her all the power, all the control.

“Yeah.” Bucky nodded, watching her intently. When she lifted her head from her arms at the pool’s edge, he watched her rare smile speared across those gorgeous lips. “I may have to kiss you spontaneously once in a while. Got to keep my dame on her toes.”

“Dame?” Her brow arched with his little pet name.

“No dame?” He smirked at her.

“Keep it up, snegopad, and your soft name will permanently change to snezhinka,” she grumbled, swimming towards the stairs out of the pool.

“And just where do you think you’re going, Franki?” His fingers lightly shackled her wrist, ready to let go if she needed him to.

“To my room,” she frowned. “I am wet and cold and in serious need of a shower.”

“You ain’t walking on that leg.”

“How else am I to return to my suite?” she huffed, rolling her eyes.

“Same way you got to the quinjet,” he scoffed, giving her hand a tug and scooping her up, sending water splashing in an arc.

Yelping, Franki drew her arms into her chest protectively when she found herself weightless against him. “Bucky… I…”

“Stop, doll face. Take a sec and get a feel for things,” Bucky muttered, looking down on the wet woman cradled in his arms. She was so stiff he thought her muscles would crack with the slightest jolt.

Holding herself very tightly, Franki allowed the feel of his arms to finally penetrate the growing wave of unease. One cold, one warm, neither made her skin crawl and she deflated, turning her face into his throat and unfolding enough to wrap her arms around him. “Oh, thank god. I thought…”

Her breath hitched and he turned his head to lightly rub their cheeks together. “No dice, malyutka. You’re stuck with me.” He hadn’t wanted to admit it, but, he too, had been a little worried that touching her was going to be a onetime deal. Now that he was sure it wasn’t, she wasn’t getting away that easily.

Sighing, a small smile tugging at her lips, Franki asked, “Are you going to say things like nifty and dreamboat now?”

“You making fun of me, doll?” he chuckled, heading for the stairs with his precious cargo.

She hummed softly, “Well, you are rather old.”

“Don’t push your luck, cookie,” he grumbled but grinned when she giggled softly. “There’s a sound that makes my day.”

“Hm. You are easily pleased,” she snickered, resting her chin on his shoulder. Wide, muscled, and slick with water, her brain was smacked out of the way by her suddenly active libido. Something she didn’t even know she had until arriving at the tower and awakening from a most… curious dream. Giving in to temptation, she licked at the expanse of skin before purring like a cat. A little salty from the saline water of the pool, he tasted like he smelled. Like winter in Siberia. A bit smoky with a sharp bite.

“Moya zvezdochka,” He groaned, hesitating on the steps. “You make me want to rush you when you do such things.”

Sighing, knowing she truly wasn’t capable of more than what they’d done, Franki curled closer, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Snegopad.”

Apology laced her quiet voice and he hummed softly, walking out of the pool, feeling the weight of his soaked sweatpants drag down and hang precariously low on his hips. Thankfully the knot was tight and they didn’t shift any lower when he headed for the shelves that held the towels. Setting Franki down on a lounge chair, he went to grab three from the shelf only to turn around and freeze in place. Her eyes were wide, glazed, and staring. It took a second before he registered what she was staring at. Her eyes wandered over his chest and down to hold on his abs. The joy of being a super soldier. He gave a smug grin. The serum gave him a body he didn’t really need to work for.

Both he and Steve had physiques that had been likened to the gods, a comment that set Thor laughing for all the Asgardians had such bodies so the blonde behemoth could see the truth in the comment. And, though they trained excessively, it was less about keeping their shape and more about working off some of the less known side-effects of the serum. It made them antsy. The need to move and fight was a constant itch that was only satisfied when they were beating the hell out of something, usually each other, because they could take it to the body with greater intensity.

The only other outlet was sex and sex wasn’t something he took lightly. Sure back in the day he’d been a ladies man, or so Steve had teased him, but a lot of that life was still dark and would, likely, stay that way. And, since becoming the Winter Soldier, he had not had a woman. Those seventy years had been about killing and nothing more, and, though they had left him intact, he knew it was only so someday they could have used him as stud to create another generation of soldiers. That thought sickened him, but, as he remembered each and every mission he’d ever carried out for Hydra, he knew fucking some woman was not something he’d been required to do.

After, once he was free from Hydra’s control, the last thing he’d wanted was to get some poor dame mixed up in his mess. Physical desire had also been lacking until the day silver eyes had swung his way. The stirring of his body had been so unexpected, he’d nearly panicked. Nearly, but he held it together.

Now, he woke with what Sam had crudely termed morning wood on a daily basis, all because he dreamed of gorgeous white skin and sparkling silver eyes. She was a siren, a beautiful dame who he intended to keep for himself and would do whatever it took to help her. But, seeing her flushed features and slightly agape mouth made him grin a little smugly. “See something you like?”

His sweats rode so low, she could see the very upper edge of his buttocks when he’d walked towards the towels. All that smooth flesh over flexing muscle. He moved like a cat, lithe grace and silent feet, each step a lesson in pure unadulterated power. But, when he’d turned back, hesitated, was when she’d discovered a most pleasing view. How could one man be so sculpted?

Everything just… rippled.

Again his sweats dipped low, barely catching on his hipbones, leaving little to the imagination with how they clung to him. The cut line of his Apollo’s Belt looked as if it was carved from stone and each ab was a defined section of pronounced strength. Pectorals flexed when he crossed his arms, arms that were so strong she felt weightless in them.

He had the body of a god. It was, “Gorgeous…” Including the shining silver arm.

Her breathy sigh had him pacing towards her. Slow, determined steps towards the petite woman, her hair a mass of wet curls that fell around her, hiding much of her from his eyes. But her legs, those splendid gams of pale flesh had his hands itching to touch. Stopping before her, he slowly knelt at her feet. “You’re gorgeous,” he murmured, lightly trailing a finger down her leg. “Just look at this skin. It begs for touching.”

Gasping, she watched in awe as the thick finger skimmed her shin in a feather light caress. “That feels…”

“What does it feel like?” he coached gently, wanting her to talk to him.

“Like… like when the sun touches me…” She burned easily so her time tanning was limited, yet, when she laid out with Nat, the heat was amazing. Besides, her skin just reverted to her pale shade within hours after exposure so there was little point in trying to tan.

“Do you like it, malyutka?” he asked, closing his fingers around her ankle. The thing looked so small in comparison to his hand.

“Yes…” Nothing had ever pleased her more. “Bucky…”

Sultry and laced with her accent, her voice drove him forwards and he leaned cautiously, slowly down to press a gentle kiss where her break was healing. Her light gasp had his eyes darting up to find hers closed and her teeth in her lip. “Breathe, Franki.” Sitting back, he carefully wrapped her in one of the extra-large towels, covering her small frame completely, before moving around behind her.

Collecting the heavy mane of hair in his hand, he gently began to dry the curls with soft pats and scrunches. Her hair was her crowning glory and he loved it, but he was having a hard time drawing his eyes from her legs.

He’d been correct. Her skin was softer than the softest kitten and when he’d kissed it, the scent of frost and vanilla had saturated his senses. But it was the cherry red toes he was having a hard time ignoring. “I see why the cast had to come off, doll. Those are some swell nails.” They matched the ones on her hands.

“Nat did one side and Wanda did the other,” she sighed, slumping a little. “I was doing so well. By the third bottle of wine, her touch on my hand and foot only made me shiver a little. It was why I agreed to that crazy idea. Three blankets, a huge bed, and I’ve slept with Nat before. What would it matter if we added Wanda? She’s my friend.” But even a friend’s caress could make her want to scream eventually. “I need to apologize. I could have really hurt her.”

“Wanda is not so easily damaged.” She was enhanced, she could take a little crash with a wall. And the mention of her sleeping with Natasha was so common, it rarely phased any of them. At one time, sure, it had pricked his ears and given him… ideas; he was male after all.

“Still,” Franki sighed. The way his hands worked with the towel on her hair and ever so gently over her scalp made her smile. “Is this what it is like to go to the hairdressers? I have never had a haircut but Nat says a scalp massage is to die for. I always figured I would jump straight out of my skin.”

Dropping the towel on the lounger, Bucky slowly worked his fingers into the thick mass until he could softly circle his fingers over her scalp. A moan became a groan and she shivered. “Franki, I need you to talk to me.” He wasn’t Wanda who could just read what she was feeling.

“I don’t… I have never… oh god…” She’d never felt anything so incredible in her life! “Don’t stop…”

He chuckled softly but continued to slowly circle his fingers. When she was practically purring, her body lax and sagging, he pulled his hands free to her whimper of disappointment. She looked like she’d had a wild night and had woken up with the sexiest bed head. “Damn,” he swore softly when lazy silver eyes opened and looked up at him. “You’re so pretty. When that leg heals up, can I take you out, Franki?”

A jolt of nervous excitement ran through her but she nodded slowly. “Da. I would like that.” At least if she got overwhelmed in a public place, she could now back herself into Bucky and know there was one set of arms she could run to that didn’t make her want to lash out.

Using his own towel, Bucky dried off as best he could, wringing what water was left from his sweats, before picking her back up and heading out of the pool room. His shirt lay, still, beside the water but he could get it later.

In the control room of the tower, Natasha, Steve, Sam, Wanda, Vision and Tony all had some form of smile on their faces. A few were smug, one a bit more teasing than the others, a few soft, one a little embarrassed at having watched his best friend coax a woman into kissing him in much the same manner as decades earlier, but all were genuinely happy for the pair.

“About damn time,” Natasha sighed, her smile huge. “I knew he wouldn’t be a problem.”

Wanda was nodding slowly before she frowned at the other woman. “But it is not all in her head.” The Scarlet Witch held up her hands in apology. “Forgive me. Your voice was very loud, but Franki’s dislike of contact is not all mental. Her skin truly does react poorly to some. Some, yes, is the engrained fear that those who touch her will eventually try and hurt her, something that is impossible but still a very real fear for our Franki. Throughout her captivity, the absence of pain, of any feeling, was all she ever knew. Now, these new feelings with Bucky are going to be very intense. She will need time to adjust. He cannot push her, Steve. You must warn him.”

“He won’t.” Steve shook his head. “Not Bucky. If you watched that, you’d know he would never.” There was no doubt in his mind.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Tony interjected. “What do you mean her skin reacts?”

“I can feel it on her. Her skin… crawls when the touch is… foul. Intense, disgusting, dislike. A Hydra agent had her by the throat once and her abilities just … manifested. Her strength increased, precision, focus, all of it tripled. She became something feral, dangerous. She was the supreme predator in the room until he was dead and we were off and running again.”

“So… what the hell does that mean for us?” Tony demanded, hurt that Franki had reacted so strongly to his assistance just the other day.

“With us, her reaction is the mental one. She fears the absence of pain. Touch for her always felt like… nothing. Imagine if you went your whole life feeling nothing, only to come here and suddenly touch elicits… a reaction. Not as strong as her reactions with Bucky, but still, there was something were once there was nothing. Would that not scare you?”

Nat was pacing slowly, back and forth, her arms crossed as she thought it through. “She can feel us. That’s the difference.”

“Difference?” Steve and Sam said together, still a little confused.

Sighing, she turned to face the others. “I was angry when she woke up. Said a few things I have wanted to for a while but…” she shrugged. “One of the things I said was that I thought she was trying to get hurt. But this, this makes so much more sense. The first time I touched her, she was having a nightmare. I took the same flight Wanda did, but after, she said my touch was different. The panic was there but the sensation took longer and longer to appear each time I hugged her or took her hand. Now, she will flinch, but I’m always really careful to touch her gently.”

“Yes. A soft touch. The soft touch can be felt, experienced, but the hard blow… nothing. It is why when she goes into battle and gets wounded she does not notice. Had Hydra known of this, discrepancy in her mutation, they would have exploited it.” Wanda shook her head in wonder. “It is likely why they could not erase her memories. The machine works with intense pain. She would have felt nothing, therefore it could do no damage. Factor in her healing ability and the thing was useless.”

“Well… damn.” Tony turned to watch the two Hydra damaged warriors make their way to Franki’s room. “We need to run some tests. If this is true, I can modify her suit. She still won’t feel pain, but I can at least help her notice when she’s hurt. Why didn’t Bruce catch this?” Banner had run a battery of scans on Franki after she’d arrived.

“He’s not been here to notice.” Nat scoffed softly before turning and leaving the room. Franki looked like she might need a hand, especially since Friday had informed them that she’d re-broken her barely healed fracture.

Steve watched her go, knowing that Natasha’s relationship with Banner was a complicated one. “I’m going to talk it over with Buck, but, I think we should all start accustoming Franki to our touch. I can’t even imagine what it’s like to be hit repeatedly and never feel it. Slam into a wall and get nothing. To live your whole life with the absence of everything and then come here and learn that you can feel stuff. How hard must it be every time she goes into the field, wondering if this time she will feel it if a bastard agent gets in a lucky shot?” To be dead inside again for that short time, then, return to the compound where the lightest brush is suddenly so potent it makes you want to leap out of your skin.

“She was already growing accustomed to me last night. The wine helped.” Wanda smiled softly, turning with Vision. “Come, we will see how she does with you.” Vision had always been very respectful of Franki’s dislike of touching and had kept his distance.

“Sounds like we have a plan.” Steve nodded, glancing back at the monitors with a smirk. He couldn’t have been happier for his friend who had desired the small woman for so long and took such care with her.

Next Chapter

#soft names #winter soldier fic #avengers #avengers au #avengers fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #winter soldier #fanfiction

475 notes · View notes