Summary: You decide to give Bucky 100 kisses for his 100th birthday.
Word Count: 2,845
A/N: I’m sure in parts of the world Bucky’s birthday is long over, but it’s still March 10th where I live! Happy Birthday, Bucky Barnes!
Steve Rogers stared at you with wide blue eyes as you attempted
to wolf down a bowl of cereal. There were many things out of place in this
picture—for one thing, he couldn’t quite fathom how a person could so wildly
eat cheerios, your spoon constantly clanging against the sides of the bowl.
For another thing, it was rare that you were up this early
on a Friday, even if it was a special occasion. He glanced at the clock
opposite him, noting that it was only fifteen past nine in the morning.
The super soldier opened his mouth to say something, but he
stopped short at the abrupt sound of your chair scraping its legs against the floor.
You shot out of your seat to drop your wares in the sink before floating across
the table, depositing yourself in Bucky Barnes’ lap.
Bucky eyed you with a smirk, still chewing his breakfast
while you placed your hands around his neck. You stared at him with doe eyes,
batting your lashes heavily. “You need somethin’ darlin?” he questioned you,
the tips of his lips curving into a smile despite the pointed look he was
trying to give.
“Uhhhhh hurry up!” You bounced impatiently on his thigh,
squirming around as you started to slip. “I’m only at twenty-seven!”
“Twenty-seven what?” For a quick moment, everything you
could have possibly meant flashed into Steve’s mind, some of them not exactly
what he wanted to think about over his first meal. With a quirked eyebrow he
looked at the close couple, searching their faces for an explanation.
“I’m trying to mmm-” Your voice was cut off when your
boyfriend shoved toast into your mouth, the jam smearing across your lips and
making it sticky. Smugly, Bucky returned his attention to Steve, who watched on
with a bewildered expression.
“She’s attempting to give me one hundred kisses today.” His
voice was laced with mirth, a silly smile plastered onto his lips that
juxtaposed his usual expression. Steve laughed, understanding your restless
“Did she give you ninety-nine last year?” Steve asked, very
amused by the challenge, but also grateful. While your idea was strange, he
found it sweet and affectionate; just the type of love Bucky needed after years
“He hid his birthday from me last year, and now he has to
pay for it!” you accused, poking your finger into his chest. “Besides, one
hundred is a special milestone! Much more so than ninety-nine.”
“Most people don’t make it to ninety-nine,” Bucky pointed
out, prodding your cheek with the end of his fork. You could see him fighting
the urge to cave into your demands, hiding his grin with a cup of coffee. His
eyes seemed to shimmer, much like they did when Steve brought him to the tower
for the first time.
It felt like so many years ago that you’d met Bucky, a
cautious, broken thing with eyes like glass. You didn’t think you’d ever get to
see him so comfortable, so relaxed, so human.
It made your heart swell, more so than the kisses ever could.
“Well then, even less people make it to one hundred. I’m
glad you’re one of them,” your smile softened as you placed a kiss to his
temple, his eyes closing in reverence. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder,
placing his head against yours.
“I’m glad you’re here with me. You too, punk,” the brunette’s
eyes picked up to Steve’s, narrowing playfully. “I see you over there.”
With a grin, Steve held up his hands in a placating gesture.
“Who me? I’m not doing a thing. Just watching my best friend be totally
disgusting with his girlfriend.” He was shaking now, wiping a tear away from
his eye as his laughter continued.
“I guess there’s some things one hundred years can’t change”
“Fifty three…fifty four…fifty five…fifty six,” You were on a
roll, having placing your lips back and forth against Bucky’s for a few solid
minutes. You were getting fast, knowing that at some point he would grow
impatient of sitting on the couch for such small pecks.
He hadn’t complained yet, a satisfied smile growing even
wider as the other occupants of the room stared in horror while you repeatedly
kissed Bucky, counting in between. Sam mimicked retching, his acting turning
into an actual couching fit.
“Jesus Y/N, aren’t you tired? And I don’t just mean from
having to look at Barnes in the first place.” His voice made you stop, turning
to face the man with a weak glare. Wariness showed on your face, emphasized by
your off-guard expression and swollen lips.
“Could you please be
nice to him for like, one day out of the year? Actually two; Christmas is a
good time to lay off him too.”
“Could you two maybe get a room? We’re trying to watch
quality entertainment, not whatever gross thing you guys are doing,” Clint
groaned, eyes still glued to the television. Tony and Sam agreed with a round
of complaints, the entire room beginning to get rowdy.
“Why are we even watching this? It’s March Madness, turn on
“Um, the Joffrey Ballet is performing Romeo and Juliet and I’m
“Would you guys mind if we put on Star Trek?”
“Fuck Next Generation, Brucey. Someone hand me the remote or
put on How I Met Your Mother.”
All of a sudden the T.V went blank, the remote clanging to
floor as you dropped it with your powers. The room was suddenly silent, no one
daring to make a move as your eyes returned to normal.
“I was here first, and I say you’re all watching T.V. in another room,” Your voice became
dangerously low, scarring the others to scamper out of their seats without any
complaints. There were small apologies being thrown at you, mostly muttered
from Clint and Tony. (“I’m sorry, I’m
sorry, please don’t use your powers!”)
You smiled until a pair of lips were
pressed firmly to yours, a much longer, heated kiss that stole your breath and
your thoughts. Bucky had grabbed your waist, pulling you to straddle his lap
“Sixty,” he reminded you, voice low as though he was sharing
a secret. You blinked, forgetting what the numbers were for in the first place.
He had that effect on you.
He smiled, a little embarrassed, but hugged you closer all
the same. “I wanted to give you one. That was pretty hot.”
“What number are you guys on now?”
Natasha lazily swirled her spoon in her tea, head propped on
her fist as she sent a smirk towards you and Bucky. By some miracle you weren’t
completely smothering him, the two of you eating like normal people at the
“Eighty-six. I’ve been spreading them out, he likes it
better that way.” You beamed at him, unaware of his blushing state. Nat,
however, noticed this right away, wiggling her brows to gain his attention.
“I’m sure that’s not the only thing he likes spread out,”
she winked, and immediately after Bucky placed his head in his hands. A chorus
of feminine cackles erupted, making his face even hotter.
“Bucky, please,” you wheezed out, holding a hand to your
stomach. You gave his back a little rub, coaxing him out of his flushed state. “What
are you acting all shy about, baby?” you teased him, the two of you calling him
“ladies man” and “lover boy”, harping back to the stories Steve used to tell
Bucky slowly lifted his head, hands still covering his face.
“You know, I thought today was going to be more embarrassing for you than for
me. How could I be so wrong?”
You rolled your eyes as his antics, prying his hands away. “C’mon
Buckaroo,” you joked, trying to use as many dumb nickname as you could to calm
him down. “We’re only teasing.”
“Relentlessly,” he added, and you scoffed, placing your
hands on your hips.
“You’re one to talk about relentless! Do you want a list of
all the times you’ve taunted me! You did that to me this morning!” Bucky peeked
at you through his fingers, catching the frown etched on your face. “It’s only
“Sorry, don’t recall,” he muttered, getting up from his seat
and walking away from you. You sputtered, standing quickly and bumping your
thighs against the table.
“Hey!” he was starting to run now, even with very limited
space. His back was retreating faster down the elevator corridor, and you
picked up speed, getting a running start off the ground before you flew towards
“I can fly faster than you can run, Barnes!” you called
after him, eyes glowing as you shot forward. Bucky suddenly turned, arms wide
open, ready to catch you with a solid stance. You tried to slow down, but you
were hurdling toward him like a comet. The force of your collision sent him
skidding backwards, his feet tripping over themselves to regain a sense of balance.
You ended up twirling like a top, his arms wrapped around
you as you spun into the elevator. Your giggles turned into a hiccups, only to
be silenced by a kiss. A deep and slow one, melding your mouths together and ultimately
grounding you. Any dizziness that persisted afterwards was not from being spun,
but rather from the kiss that had you seeing stars.
“Eighty-seven,” you counted proudly, without a single
Ten o’ clock wasn’t late by any means, but it had been a
There had been something of a party in the common room since
seven; a small gathering that consisted of the Avengers, and a few other agents
Bucky knew well. Tony had promised it wouldn’t be anything he wasn’t comfortable
with, and that if he wanted the celebration over, he could have it.
Tony kept his word. Even though Bucky had been having fun,
he realized that while he was busy catching up with Thor and Scott Lang, Y/N
had hardly been by his side. Perhaps it was the suddenness of it all, but he
felt immensely detached, gazing at her from across the room with longing looks.
You were quite adept at deciphering Bucky’s looks, even from
far away. He’d given you this long stare, his baby blue hues so cloudy and
dull, reason enough to saunter over to him and press a quick kiss to his lips.
“You okay?” you asked him, concerned that he wasn’t having
fun. He didn’t seem to suggest the idea, but you could tell that something was
bothering him. The first two times you did it, he shook his head and granted
you a small smile.
The third time was different. By the third kiss you felt his
restless energy, his hands cupping both your cheeks, seeking some sort of
outlet. You held his hands, looking straight into his eyes.
“Bucky,” you paused, making sure he was hearing you. “Bucky
are you alright?”
He was beginning to nod, his hair falling into his eyes as
he bowed his head, but his chin never came back up. “I’m fine, I just,” he
sounded strained, his voice thick with some emotion you couldn’t quite place. “How
“Ten,” you told him, rubbing the pads of your thumbs over
his hands. “Just ten more.”
He licked his lips, grabbing onto your wrist loosely and
pulling you away. “I want to go.” He was using short sentences, his speech
rushed and shoulders tense. Today had
been long, and social events tended to tire him out quicker than anything else.
“Okay baby, you stay right there, I’ll tell Tony.” You gave
him a smile that was forced, the façade vanishing when you turned away from it.
You nearly jogged to reach Tony, explaining the situation as best you could,
despite not understanding it yourself.
He was good about it. Tony didn’t make a scene, he just waved
graciously with a small smile. Bucky returned it, and suddenly the whole room
was raising a glass in his leave.
“Happy Birthday, Buck! Hope you had fun.” Steve’s strong
voice was wistful, but his smile was not at all sad. Bucky gave a salute,
relief seeping back into him as you two looped arms, turning your backs to the
“You sure you’re okay?” It was simply precautionary, your
worry fading when he gave a genuine smile.
“I’m fine, doll face. Just wanted to cash in those last ten
kisses in private.”
He was smooth, in almost everything he did. It was scary,
sometimes, how he could surprise you like that. Bucky appeared so sharp, so
bent and twisted sometimes that you were always taken aback by how careful and
soft he treated you.
His hands slowly went up your side, bunching the soft cotton
of your pajamas impatiently. When he detached himself, his burning blue eyes
looked straight at you, lips parted but unmoving, the question unspoken between
“Ninety-eight,” you replied, breathing heavily against his
lips, your foreheads touching. He’d been playing this game since he’d gotten
you alone, taking charge of the gift you were supposed to give him. He rolled
his hips under yours, nails digging into your sides almost painfully as he
angled his mouth down for another go.
Suddenly his pursed lips met the pads of your fingers. He
blinked, watching as you sat back on your knees, taking his wrists into your
“This is my gift. You can’t take control of it, that makes
it yours.” You felt like you were pouting, crossing your arms to convey your
annoyance, even it if was acute.
Bucky laughed until he realized you were serious. “What?
Darling, come on,” he persuaded, lifting up your chin. “It is for me.”
“Yeah, but it’s, I’m,” you struggled to form your thought
into a coherent statement, one that would make sense. “I’m giving you one
hundred kisses, in my time. You can’t
cash them all in like a rain check.”
That seemed to do the trick, your boyfriend leaning back on
his elbows, looking at you with raised brows. “Well when you put it like that,”
he drawled, and you used your strength to push him down onto his back.
“When I put it like that,” you mocked him, landing on your
side next to him. You grazed your finger across his jaw, tracing the outline
down his neck and collarbone. His skin was hot to the touch, but shivers wracked
his spine when your nails scratched under his chin. He was eager, hands
twitching to touch you. You laughed at his restraint, cupping your hands to
his cheeks and giving him a soft, tender kiss that lasted but a minute.
You didn’t need to say it out loud; you both understand that
this was the last of them, the final kiss to mark his birthday. He smiled as he
shifted to mirror your body, arms snaking around your neck. He wanted so desperately
to say something, but before he could even think about it, your lips placed a
small peck to his.
“One hundred! Happy Birthday, Bucky!” you grinned sneakily,
and he grabbed you, pulling you onto his lap. You laughed at his expression,
the fleeting anger that bubbling under his shock.
“What? That so does not count!” he yelled, feeling cheated.
He pulled your wrists to bring your closer, so close that your chests touched
and your eyes were solely focused on each other. You still stifled some giggles
back, and Bucky finally sighed, resigned to the fact that, no matter how
devious it was, you’d kept your promise.
“You’re forgetting something,” your chirpy voice reminded
him, and he grumbled a quick response before you placed your hands on his
chest. You captured his attention a mere moment before you captured his lips,
this time in a kiss that mattered.
It started slow and hesitant, as though you were testing
unsteady waters. Soon it became deeper, those hovering hands now fully immersed
in his hair, tugging at the roots with just enough pull to spur him on further.
Bucky placed his hands on your hips, slowly sitting himself
up, never breaking contact. He placed you back down onto the bed, his weight
pressing against yours. Your resolve broke, that earlier statement off the
table as Bucky guided you onto your back, trapping you between his arms. Your
head pressed into the mattress, your body sinking as your breath was stolen
from you, Bucky’s chest flush against you.
When the need for air became too hard to ignore, Bucky
pulled back, a questioning glance on his face. “Pretty sure I’m not one hundred
and one,” he inquired, and you smiled.
“One for good luck.” Your answer made him break out into a
grin, one so contagious you nearly forgot about everything else. He slowly
leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, a good and quick thing that
conveyed everything it needed to.
You, like little baby:
the secret 4th mcelroy brother, dougie
Me, eating paper and gesturing wildly:
there are only two mcelroy brothers and and one of them is a small man in a human suit and if you see his True face you obtain The Knowledge Of All and he stalks you for the rest of your short life
Summary: All it takes is a video for you to have Namjoon by your
side again. You know you’ve been a naughty girl but when it comes to Namjoon,
you will do whatever it takes.
A/N: Okay, so I am so in love with Namjoon and I just had to write
a smutty smut smut of him because I can’t resist. Tagging: @kenwayer27 (I have a Jin one on the way for you babe) @bfkook (cause she support Namjoon and I) @noir0neko@chimcharms@taesbitch (Namjoon’s hoes just like me) and @bae-m0n <3 This is also inspired by two of @onerandomkpop ‘s vines (I love them ALL)
As you lay on your bed sucking in the sound of the rain tapping
against your window, you browse through your phone. The last message and call
from Namjoon was two days ago. You know that he is probably busy with all of
his meetings overseas, but it has been three weeks since Namjoon left for his
business trip. It has been three weeks of not feeling his touch. It has been
three weeks of not having his love.
Missing him so much, you start to look through your pictures of
him. There’s one with him biting his soft, lower lip. Another one of him from
when he was on top of you. You two were play fighting and he took over by
putting you under him. You captured the right moment, the moment he smirked,
the moment his eyes were filled with lust, the moment before everything went
down. With the memories still clear in your mind, you get frustrated. Ugh, I
need him. Your hands slowly trail down your body. Feeling from your neck
and down to your breast, you give out a light moan. His touch is all you want,
all you need. A slight smirk appears on your face and you hop out of bed to set
your phone so it focuses on you. This will definitely get him home to me.
“Ladies and gentlemen, feast your eyes and pick up your ears to the most astounding thing to date- For the men in the audience- Need a hand around the office- a center peace, a conversation starter?” A slight pause, “Ladies want that alone time from little Timmy but the governess is out- well worry no more- I got all the answers to your prayers right here!”
A tall thin clean shaven man stepped out more on the platform in front of the crowd. He was sharply dressed wearing a blue and orange suit, his vest highlights in bronzed brass and sharp golds. He tipped his hat to the crowd, “Now we’re all familiar with the automatons of today, but what I have to show you is no ordinary robot! Rather it is a being of my own creation, A Robota. A specially designed Automaton with the ability to preform precognitive thought! Allow me to demonstrate.” He turned to the first of many covered robots on the stage behind him and paused at the smallest of his covered creations. With soft, almost, tender touch, he uncovered a slightly ghastly creation. People in the audience gasped looking at the strange robot on stage. One man chimed out,“ Dr.Aster what sort of Automaton is that?!” The others murmured their agreement as the man chuckled and raised a hand.
"Please all questions at the end of the demonstration! This is my first creation, never before tested, but that is only because I have that much faith that it will succeed.“ He said before he turned and whispered to his creation, "Alright my son….lets show them what we’re made of shall we…?” He turned back and smiled, straightening his long tailed coat. “Gentlemen, scientist of the audience, ever worry about your inventions being stolen? Your lab assistant untrustworthy or even bumbling? Or my friends, are you too poor at the moment to afford a salary for a lab assistant? Well worry no longer! Behold the first of my Robota line.” He looked over his creation. It was a simple skeletal design with a look that some would call chubby. This creation was a first of it’s kind after all. He couldn’t get everything right, at least not right off the bat. He smiled to himself, he thought it added charm but that might be bias on his part. He had dressed it up in the current wear of his era but with a blue color scheme, his favorite. It wore blue pinstriped pants, black suspenders, a blue shirt with the sleeves rolled to it’s elbows, a rich blue vest with a golden chain connecting from it’s chest to it’s left shoulder, and a royal blue tie with gold skull cuff around the bottom to hold it in place. It’s eye socket’s contained no eyes, only black abysses that Dr. Aster stared into anxiously. Gold plating encased the cogs that showed on he back of it’s head and Dr. Aster paused in delight. He had really outdone himself with this one.
“This is not any ordinary basic robot or automaton as I stated, this is the first thinking robot! Allow me to show you.” He held his breath as he started, looking to his precious creation once more. Slowly the machine started up, lifting its head. As it scanned the crowed, everyone in the room gasped, some even clapped as the doctor bowed grinning. “Allow me to present the L.A.A, Lab Assistant Alpha,…but I feel the name doesn’t fit my beta creation so we’ll call him-.” It was rather funny to give it a gender but he felt….right referring to his creation as a him, “Sans…” He chuckled, “Your name is Sans.” He repeated to the creation and trotted across the stage, uncovering a screwdriver and setting the cloth aside. “Sans come here.” He called. The machine slowly walked towards him, its focus never deriving off the coarse given to him. He stopped just short of the doctor, drawing more clapping from the audience. Seeing his creation walk caused him to beam in pride, “Good job sans.”
He turned to the audience and grinned, “Sans, hand me a screw driver.” He opened his hand expectantly. The machine looked down at his hand and then to the table, unfortunately he grabbing the cloth and handing it to his master. The crowd laughed as it looked up for it’s next order while Dr.Aster blinked and looked down at his hand before laughing in turn, “No, no, it seems our Sans here is a bit of a wise guy.” He added with the typical flair of a showman.
He chuckled, “Now again, Sans give me the screwdriver.” He turned and beamed as Sans this time handed him a screwdriver, making the smile on Dr. Aster’s face widen. “Good job Sans.” He said before grinning even wider and perking up as one man rose a hand. He nodded to the gentleman and the man spoke, “Doctor why the ghastly appearance?”
This caused him to chuckle lightly, “It’s my trademark, I want you to know the name Dr.Aster when you see them.”
“More like Dr.Ghaster,” Remarked a particularly haunting woman in the corner enticing the crowd to laugh, and much to their surprise again, Dr.Aster.
“Yes I suppose I am, but if I may continue madam?” She blushed as the crowds laughter died down. “Sans.” He said before turning to his first creation. “May you uncover the Robota to you right please?”
Turning, though not as smoothly as Aster would have liked, which he made a mental note to fix later, Sans uncovered the closest one on his right, reveling a tall goat like automaton. Dr. Aster smiled as the women gasped with delight, and the men muttered to one another. He grinned widely, “This is a….” He paused for dramatic effect, “Nanny goat,” It was a terrible pun but he couldn’t help himself, he had to sneak in one. Dr. Aster smiled and stood up straighter, “For all demonstrative purposes, we shall call her….err…..” He looked down at Sans as if the machine could help him out, “To…Tu…Toriel.” He said quickly before flashing a brilliant grin, “Toriel.” He muttered to himself before he walked over and like Sans started her. With in seconds, she started up, much to the amazement of the crowd (and the relief of Dr.Aster.)
He turned to the audience, “Ladies and gentlemen you have no idea how close to the pinnacle of technological advancement we truly are here, for example, if I may draw your attention to the writing broad I brought with me today.” He said as he drew their attention to the board. Writing fast and excitedly, he drew out complicated math equations. He stepped back and smiled as Sans and the newly dubbed Toriel looked at their creator blankly. “Sans solve this equation.” Walking towards the broad it waited and, once with chalk in hand and without skipping a beat, wrote out the answer. The crowd ooo'ed and aww'ed astounded by Sans’s work.
“Good lord Aster, you created a sentient robot!” Dr. Aster frowned for the first time in the presentation.
“Alas no….for you see they lack something that would give them true sentience…a human soul… for you see, no matter how smart Sans is or how well Toriel can take care of a child, they will never truly be ALIVE watch…” He said before he turned and sadly he knelt down. Gently, he hugged Sans then stood moved over to Toriel, hugging her just as gently. They both looked ahead never moving, never returning the jester whether awkward or in earnest. They stood stoically as he parted and sighed, “They do no have emotions, nor do they have their own free will…they..are after all Automatons…They need a soul for that, but they are merely creations, they are soulless.” He said before stepping forward, “But they are much more intelligent than mere normal robots.” He walked over and gave another brilliant smile. “Allow me to show you another feature of my creations.”
He walked over and uncovered a gramophone with a smirk as the crowd started to whisper among themselves. “Sans, Toriel.” He chirped as both slightly lifted their head in acknowledgement. “I want you to preform for us today, I want you both to waltz with one another.” The people in the crowd chuckled as both machines turned to one another. He cranked the handle a few good times, placing the needle down and rushed over clasping his hands together.
“Sans bow to your partner and Toriel curtsy if you’d please.” He smirked as they both preformed their task without any hesitation. He nodded, “Sans you will lead.” They took a step towards one another. It was a funny sight to the crowd as the much shorter Automaton lead the taller in a simple waltz but for all the world, Dr.Aster couldn’t care less, he was beaming with pride at his creations, they were like his children after all. As they twirled expertly on stage, the doctor turned to the crowd and bowed. They were eating this up cheering wildly. He walked behind the dancing part uncovering the group in his lines, twins, a smaller more humbler made assistant robota, two knights of different makes.
“My friends these are the waves of the future, Robotas will be something to behold and loved in every house hold!”
It seemed so long ago since he made that decree, he looked out at a sea of metal and garbage, his kingdom…the trash heap dubbed mount. Ebott. On his knees, he stared sadly at his creations, his children, broken and unused for years. He slowly roused to his feet and walked through the trash, stopping every so often to pick up a piece or two of robotic, or touching the head, there was simply to many to count. He had worked so tirelessly over each and every one of them. It hurt his soul to see them all discarded like trash, like he was. He stopped, his heart sinking even further at his very first creation, his once shiny brass buttons were tarnished, his vibrant blue coloring smudged and faded and his clothes torn, almost buried among the garbage. He started to dig him out desperately. This shouldn’t be here. HE shouldn’t be here. As he dug, his hands started to hurt, filth, oil and an assortment of other foul things covered his hands as he tirelessly dug out his precious creation…his son.
Once he dug him out, the man looked the lab assistant over, relief soon fled his system,“ oh thank god all the damage you sustained is purely cosmetic.” He weakly smiled at him and looked out again, propping the machine up,“ don’t worry…” He stood fully and stared ahead silently making a decision,“ No one will ever hurt us again…” He slung one of sans arms over his shoulder and grunted, with alot of effort he stood and dragged sans away from the pile of trash.
Once popular, his creations were world renowned, everyone wanted to own one of their own while his originals stayed at his home forever being tweaked and perfected by Dr.Aster. He sent out others, some as workers others as performers, labors or what ever the task be assure one of Dr.Asters Robota, was there to help lighten if not take the burden. For a while everyone loved his creations almost as much as he did but soon it was obvious it wasn’t meant to last.
Artisans lost to the wayside of his advancement looked upon his creations with jealously. They envied his creations, but once they found out his secrets, they stole his technology. Replicating it but using beautiful human models in their steed. Soon demand for his creations dwindled and they were replaced by the fancy human models. With no one to love or buy his creations, and with upkeep of his home and personal models, he soon was not only broke but homeless as well. He soon followed his creations to the now dubbed Mt Ebott, his personal models trashed like the others. The world at current sickened him. These weren’t robots, these transcend that now. True at first he saw them as any other automatons with only one or two purposes but now, these were his children, his family.
He slowly started to work, it took a painstakingly long time but he hollowed out an area out of Mt Ebott, it helped the land naturally hollow, and set up a rudimentary home. With the parts from broken robotas around him, he set to work, first rebuilding Sans. Once working, both of them made a workshop, he was happy to a point, but horribly lonely. Sans wasn’t much for conversation, he lacked a soul for it. One night as he worked on a minor repair on Sans, an idea came to him. If he had remembered correctly, ancient arts would reward his creation a soul but the price was the fracture of their own. He was desperate for someone at this point, but humanity disgusted and disillusioned him. He looked at Sans and unconsciously stroked his head, the way a parent would sooth a child. He would give Sans a soul.It would ease his loneliness and give his greatest creation, the greatest gift he could give.
The work was hard and the undertaking was almost beyond him but with the help Sans, he managed to complete the work he had been doing for months. When he looked at Sans again it was with a smile, the first in months, hell maybe years.
No one said it would be easy or painless. In fact, it hurt so much and required Sans to work for a few minutes independently from him. Sans was an assistant after all, not a doctor so there was a concern or two leaving the Robota alone for a period of time, no matter how short. Sans proved to be amazing though and took it all in stride never messing up once, resting all the Doctors fears to bed. Once he awoke from the procedure, he looked at the fractured bit of his soul and crafted a heart for his most loved creation.
Powering down Sans, he created some new features to him, a way to burn fuel similar to eating to keep him constantly powered. It gave Sans more independence and after touching him up here and their, he finally a place to hold his new soul. He smiled warmly as he placed the soul inside the newly created cavity and waited, and waited. It took a long time for anything to happen and he even feared Sans might not ever wake up.
But one day, a wonderful day really, the flowers blooming, birds singing, all in all a fine day, something finally happened.
Sans opened his eyes on his own.
((( Oh god this is my first fanfiction- please don’t judge to harshly- I tend to pump things out fast and this is a three chapter kinda deal- next chapeter will be fluffyer- understeam and undertale are both not mine
Undertale is toby fox- play the game!
Understeam au is ms1sharkless - they gave me permission to post this
*goes into a coma*
*transcends high above the earth at a velocity unknown to man*
*lands on a cloud*
*floats cloud into another galaxy*
*becomes one with the aliens*
*wakes up from coma*
*sees this again*
*starts all over*
LISTEN LMAO I WAS LIKE “SHE’S NEVER GONNA FOLLOW ME LMAO” I KNOW MY DAMN LUCK I’VE KNOWN MY LUCK MY ENTIRE LIFE I DON’T WIN CONTESTS I DON’T GET NOTICED ON INSTAGRAM I AIN’T GET NOTICED ON TWITTER I DON’T GET INTO T PARTY OR CLUB RED I JUST EXIST LIKE A JELLYFISH IN THE OCEAN FLOATING ALONG WHEREVER THE CURRENT TAKES ME
SO I NEVER EVEN
IF SHE WAS FOLLOWING ME
BUT SPORADICALLY I DO GO THROUGH THE FIRST PAGE OF MY FOLLOWERS
JUST LOOKIN FOR COOL URL’S/NEW PPL TO FOLLOW
AND I STUMBLED UPON
LIKE 4 MINUTES AGO
AND SERIOUSLY WENT INTO
MY HEART ISB EATING WILDLY
I’M SO UPSET BC I HAD NO IDEA SHE WAS FOLLOWING ME AND WAS JUST POSTING AWAY LIKE IDER THE LAST SHIT I SAID HAS SHE BEEN HERE THIS WHOLE TIME I’VE BEEN GETTING DRAMATIC ABOUT BEING SICK???????? DID SHE SEE MY POSTS ABOUT HAVING A BUILDUP OH PHLEGM ????????????
WHAT ELSE HAS SHE SEEN…………
I DONT’ HINK IC AN DO THIS
Request -- Hi, your writing is good and I like it a lot :) Could you please do one where the reader and Sam are together and they notice her getting thinner and thinner over time and they're getting worried and find out she has anorexia? Oh and could you include a bit where the reader, and team free will are out but she's feeling ill and Sam carries her home? Thanks I'd really appreciate it :)
(Hope you like it, and disclaimer: I really hope I got some of the symptoms right. If I didn’t, I’m truly sorry. xx)
Warning: signs of an eating disorder
You hesitantly allowed Sam to take hold of your hand and pull you into a booth inside of the diner that was only a couple blocks away from the motel that you were staying at; you hadn’t wanted to go at all, but Dean had sworn that this restaurant had the best burgers in town according to some of his past hunting buddies and had refused to let you pass up the opportunity. Just the thought of the ground beef on golden-toasted bread with fries to accompany it made your mouth water, and you wouldn’t deny that fact, but that just made you shrink inside and feel disgusted with yourself. Looking at the window beside where you were sitting, you could see the reflection of yourself; you didn’t like the image at all, and you bit the inside of your cheek in frustration as revulsion came in waves over you. The sickening feeling didn’t help the dizziness that was already swirling around in your head, and you had to hold back a moan so that Sam wouldn’t get even more suspicious that he already was about you; it was obvious that he knew something was going on, but he hadn’t put his finger on it quite yet. Frankly, you hoped that he never would, for you were positive that the discovery would cause him a lot of unnecessary pain; he had too much of that to deal with on a daily basis anyway.
“Are you alright?” Sam asked quietly, concerned at the fact that you had just suddenly zoned out on him; there was a sort of blankness in your eyes, and your skin was a bit pale. It was frightening him a lot, actually; for the past few weeks, he had been keeping a closer watch on you because something was definitely off.
“O-Of course,” you replied nonchalantly as you possibly could, leaning into him and trying your hardest not to flinch when he wrapped one of his arms around your waist. “You worry about me too much, you know.”
“That is my job as your boyfriend,” His hazel eyes gleamed as he gave you a smile, but it wavered when he felt something odd; even though you were wearing a big sweater, he could feel ridges under his hand. Panic shot through him at the realization, and he subtly started to count them; were those your ribs? Luckily, you were oblivious to his sudden freak out, but noticed when he stiffened as he began to think upon this new revelation of his; the sudden quiet between you started to become uncomfortable, and you were glad when Dean and Castiel walked over, both carrying steaming trays.
“Food coming through!” the older Winchester crowed, setting his tray down with Cas following his action; once they sat down the brothers madly grabbed at what hunters considered delicacies, Sam eating unhealthy for once. You, and of course, the angel were not doing the same.
“Y/N,” Sam called with a small smirk, waving a foil-wrapped burger in front of your face; you were craving it but was revolted by it at the same time. “You should really eat it before Dean does.”
You looked up at him, bewildered. “But I said…”
“I know that you told me you didn’t want anything,” Dean’s mouth was full as he spoke. “But you’ve been telling us you haven’t been hungry for dinner for the past, what, five days now? So, since I got you that, you’d better eat it.”
Slowly nodding, you reached out and took the burger from Sam; he pressed his lips to your cheek as you did, a feeling of relief going through him because you had accepted the food. Castiel’s gaze was perplexed as he watched you unwrap it with movements of your fingers, which were somehow precise even though there was a slight trembling in them; once it was fully uncovered, you gulped as you looked at the burger with both longing and distaste. When you noticed that all three of the men that you hunted with were looking at you with anticipation, you refrained from sighing and picked it up even though you just wanted to drop it and run; taking a small bite, you winced when the taste hit your tongue. You knew that it was probably really delicious, but it was absolutely nauseating to you; to reassure all of them, you gave them a thumbs-up.
“It’s good,” you said weakly, and you were surprised that your two words were even half-convincing.
“…There’s something different about you,” The words fell out of Castiel’s mouth without warning, and even he seemed surprised that they did so; you were looking at him for an explanation now, though, and so were the brothers, so he had to elaborate. Your heart was pounding loudly, and the shaking was gradually getting worse. “I just feel like…your aura, it seems different. More sorrowful, but just a slight tilt. But perhaps I am just imagining it. I am sorry for bringing it up.”
You kept your voice light. “That’s okay, Cas.”
Dean shifted in his seat, but you could tell he was thinking about what the angel had said; he was connecting the dots inside of his kind, but wasn’t coming to a plausible conclusion just yet. Meanwhile, even though he was keeping quiet and continuing to eat, Sam had alarms wildly going off in his head; it was all beginning to make sense to him, and it seemed as though his heart was sinking. The deduction that he was forming was definitely one that he wished was one he could push to the back of his mind, but he couldn’t because it was, without doubt, the most possible one. He watched from the corner of his eye while he kept up easy conversation with you, Dean, and Cas, seeing you break the burger into small pieces but never putting them in your mouth; you did this until it was almost three-quarters of the way pulverized before pushing it away from you. After doing so, you grabbed the styrofoam cup that was filled to the top with ice water, and gulped it down; you figured that maybe drinking a lot more when you got back to the motel mixed with some late-night exercise would help you feel a lot less guilty.
“I’m just going to go to the restroom,” you announced, standing up before anybody could protest; nausea suddenly came over you, though, and you had to grab the corner of the table in order to support yourself and keep yourself from falling. Sam was right there, holding you up immediately with terror in his expression. “I-I’m fine, S-Sam…”
“No. No, you’re not,” That’s when you felt your legs being pulled from under you and abruptly, you were in the air, being held by Sam bridal-style; the sudden movement made you groan. “I’m taking her back to the motel.”
Dean was reaching in his pocket, horror also stiffening both his and Cas’ faces.
“Do you need my keys?”
Sam shook his head. “It’s fine. It’s only a short walk from here, anyway. Just take your time, please. We need to be alone for at least a couple of hours.”
With that, he rushed out of the diner and held you close to him; even with your sweater on, you still felt cold and started to shiver against his warm form. This made him hold you tighter as he started to run down the street, making sure he wasn’t making your sickness worse by rocking you too much. He comforted both you and himself with whispered words such as “everything is going to be fine”; even though he seemed sure of them, it seemed like he was doing a hell of a lot to make them convincing.
Since the motel was such a short distance away, which he was thankful for, he rummaged in his pocket frantically for the room key and unlocked the door as soon as he had fished it out; after shutting it and laying you on the bed with caution, he went to the kitchen and grabbed half of a granola bar. You shuddered when he brought it over to you, but he didn’t allow you to flinch away from him.
“Please eat it,” he brokenly murmured to you, and his voice sent pain straight through you; this is exactly what you had wanted to avoid, the agony that you were hearing from him now.
“I c-can’t,” you whispered in response, hating how his fists clenched in a mixture of fury and sorrow when you spoke.
“Please just eat the damn granola bar,” He was close to growling, but that was only out of his love for you; he absolutely despised the state that he was seeing you in now. He calmed down just a bit, holding it closer to you. “It doesn’t have to be all of it. Just a couple of bites. I know you can do it, Y/N. Take it slow.”
After several moments, you took it from him with your hand trembling once again; bringing it up to your mouth, you almost became sick when the sweetness filled your mouth after only a tiny bite. You chewed slowly but steadily, surprised at how patient Sam was being with you; you then took one more bite after swallowing the first, and that’s when you began to break down. You dropped the granola bar onto the bed, and your face fell into your quivering hands.
“I-I’m sorry, S-Sam,” you cried, reclining against the hold that he took you into. “I…I didn’t mean f-for this to happen, I s-swear!”
“I know, I know,” he crooned in your ear sweetly, your whole frame shaking in his arms. “But I’m going to help you. Cas and Dean, too. We’re going to get you through this together.”
“But I’m n-not worthy of your h-help,” you mumbled, saltwater staining his shirt. “I d-didn’t want to see you s-stressed over me.”
Chuckling a little despite the situation, he cupped your face in his hands and looked you straight in the eye.
“You’re as stubborn as ever. Like I said before, I am your boyfriend, Y/N. It is my job to help you, and it is my job to stress over you. Nothing will change that, because you are my top priority. Always. I love you so much, and I’m not going to let you go on with this alone. I promise you that.”
Your eyes widened in disbelief, but when you saw the completely honest and affectionate look in his own, you knew that you were safe. You knew that you weren’t alone, and that he would be by your side no matter how long this agonizing journey to recovery was; this realization was all you needed to finally nod and accept what he had said.
“Thank y-you,” you told him fervently, breaking into a small smile; hope filled you up, and you knew that it was more than plenty to keep you going on the road ahead. “So m-much.”