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isabellitah · 4 years

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Hi! Could I request a fic of the reader (number eight/Eightie) focused on her relationship with Diego?? She is so cute and I bet she would be the only one to ever see his soft side

🤍 DIEGO x SIBLING

Title : personal psychopath

Pairing : none but this focuses on Diego’s relationship with Eightie

Warning : uhh anxiety attack and cuss words and this is long i got kinda carried away oop

Request : Hi! Could I request a fic of the reader (number eight/Eightie) focused on her relationship with Diego?? She is so cute and I bet she would be the only one to ever see his soft side

Note : Hiiii 🤍 this took a different turn from where I was going but- I hope it’s to your liking 🤍

you, Eightie, are known as the positive ray of sunshine in the Umbrella Academy

that is a fact known all across the world

some news outlets have even dubbed you the ‘Princess of the Umbrella Academy’ whenever you were mentioned

some considered you the ‘Sweetheart of Her Generation’

the bubbly ray of sunshine that giggled her way into everyone’s hearts

anyway-

you always greeted everyone with a smile and your giggles always uplifted the spirits of those who felt down

and according to Klaus, sometimes some of the meaner souls leave him alone when you’re around because your happiness is just so infectious that they’re entranced by it

so imagine how Diego- your protective older brother number two- felt when he saw you break down

For the first time in all your lives, Diego was frozen in shock and uncertainty around you. He didn’t think it was possible for someone so happy to actually feel fear. And to think- you bottled everything up just because you felt guilty anytime someone tried to help you. They should’ve- fuck they should’ve known!

It was late at night and you were both just relaxing in his room- something you both do whenever Diego can’t sleep. On his bed, with your back facing the wall, your head on his chest with an arm wrapped around him, both legs relaxed beside his and your other arm just comfortably between your bodies when you felt it.

A slight twitch on your hand.

You felt your face start to heat up.

Every single insecurity and fear you buried started resurfacing.

You knew what this meant.

You had to get to a secluded safe place - away from Diego - so you excused yourself to go the toilet, hopped over him and ran off- not even closing the door behind you. Diego shrugged it off thinking you just really needed to use the restroom.

Five minutes had passed and Diego felt himself start to worry. He didn’t hear anyone breaking into the house, nor did he hear you scream or anything but he had this gut feeling to check in on you. And so he did. Nearing the bathroom you usually used, he pressed his ear against the door and heard rapid, shallow breaths mixed with sniffled cries.

Diego twisted the door knob only to find it locked, “Eightie...?” Diego started panicking when your breaths became faster and kicked the door down. What he saw shocked him.

You were sitting on the floor cross-legged with your eyes hurriedly trying to wipe the tears from your face- to the point where it looked like it hurt from the amount of pressure you were using.

He was frozen- he didn’t know what to do next. He can’t leave you here to find someone to help- you looked like you needed someone now and yet at the same time you looked like you wanted to be left alone. But Diego didn’t. He didn’t leave you alone. He didn’t feel like it’d be right. You’re always there for him so it’s his turn to be here for you.

By the time he chose his course of action, both of your hands were now on your lap while your usually bright eyes were now dull and staring blankly at the tiled floors in front of you. Diego carefully sat down on the floor beside you so as to not shock you and hovered his hand over your shaking one.

Your hand twitched before you slowly turned it palm side up. Taking this as his cue, Diego intertwined your hands together and that seemed to help as your tears started to slow themselves down. But it wasn’t enough- your breathing still wasn’t stabilized.

“I- w-what can I d-do to he-help?” Diego’s words started stumbling out of his mouth and he hated how weak he sounded but, fuck, this was Eightie. He didn’t need to hide his insecurities from you. He felt your hand tighten around his slightly. Of course you were trying to comfort him when you were the one who needed it more. You knew his stutter only appeared whenever he felt overwhelmed with emotion. You took a sharp breath in and he immediately started listening in closely, “t-talk to m-me.” Diego hated how weak you sounded- how it sounded like you had to force those words from your mouth.

He took a deep breath in and started to talk with the first thing that popped into his head, “okay... Okay, right uhh there’s nothing- wow I can’t th- I’m not being help- wait! I got it! I uh- I got some new knives! Yeah, that’s exciting, right? I mean for me it is and you always mentioned that they interested you with how shiny they can be and- yeah- you like my knives- well actually you don’t like them because they can hurt people but- but you’re interested in them, right? And th-they are interesting. They’re different sizes and sometimes different colours...” while racking his brain on how to continue the one-sided conversation, he continuously said anything that appears in his thoughts first, “I uh- I got different sets in black, and they’re umm they’re different. And new. And uhh I don’t- uhh- I don’t think this is helping.” Diego genuinely looked confused and slightly frazzled as he tried to talk to you as requested. Unknowingly for him, during his speech, your breathing started stabilizing and you stopped crying and you smiled at his efforts. You knew your brother wasn’t a talker- he preferred showing his love through his actions, hence his protectiveness. And now his love for you shows in how he decided to stay by your side and try to comfort you even when he’s, quite obviously, out of his comfort zone.

To slightly ease his worries, you smiled up at him and softly thanked him. Having felt you move a bit, Diego stopped rambling and looked at you and his panicked features softened at the sight of your smile. But there was tinge of sadness in his eyes, and in yours - he noticed.

“You don’t need to be happy all the time, Eightie... you can be you here,” he placed an arm over your shoulder to hug you, “we accept you however you are... Like you always say, we’re your family and we love you, okay?”

You nodded tearily and returned his hug, “thank you...” you sniffled, burying your head in the crook of his neck.

“Any of us are here for you in case you ever need someone, okay? Just tell us and we’d drop whatever we’re doing.”

You frowned at what he said, “but I don’t want you guys to drop anything for me.”

Diego looked at the ajar door ahead of him while stroking your hair with the hand around your shoulder, “Family first, Eightie. You matter- you’re mental health matters more than my knives, okay? You’re that important.”

You wanted to smile at his knives comment but couldn’t bring yourself to so instead you just nodded.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Eightie... what happe-”

“Ooh what’s happening here?”

“Klaus... really?”

“Whaaaat? I saw light peeking from here so I decided, hey, if they wanted privacy, they would’ve shut the door. And then I recalled that this is technically Eightie’s bathroom! Why wo-”

“Klaus.”

“Sorry sorry- hey, are you crying?” When his sister turned to look at him, Klaus saw the tell tale signs of crying and immediately crouched in front of you and held out his arms for you.

Not wanting to let go of Diego, you stretched your free arm towards him as an invitation to join the hug and he took it- much to Diego’s utter disappointment. Nonetheless, he wrapped his free arm around Klaus who, after the hug, made himself comfortable between you two.

“So... what happened?”

“I uh- had a panic attack,”

“Again?”

“Again?!” Diego was shocked to say the least.

Klaus saw this along with the confusion on his face, looked at you for reassurance, and when you nodded, he looked back at Diego and told him, “I found her staring at nothing at the space in front of her in the living room one day. She was fidgeting with her hands- and she didn’t even notice a thing. She didn’t hear me even when I was basically screaming her name. We were the only ones home aside from mom and Pogo- but they were on the other side of the house. Anyway, she didn’t move an inch- she was lost in her thoughts ‘til I waved a hand in front of her. Big mistake- she jumped and looked at me scared before nearly choking on her own breath. I helped her regain her breath of course then we started talking and yeah.” It was odd seinf Klaus so sober and serious but wait... “Wait- just staring- no crying or hy-”

Klaus cut him off with an obviously over dramaticized groan, “anxiety comes in different forms for everyone, Diego.” for extra Klaus effect, he rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner accompanied by a dramatic sigh.

Smiling at your third older brother’s antics, you looked ahead of you and added, “Yeah... that and I can usually manage my attacks in public.”

You felt Klaus’ stare on you and knew what he was about to ask, “I thought I told you to come to me when the signs start showing up, Eithtie,”

“I thought you were asleep,”

Klaus sighed knowing that you had a point, “no matter. So long as you’re not alone- and that you know that. Right?”

You nodded, slowly feeling your eyes get heavy, “Yeah... Right...”

Klaus chuckled and nudged Diego who got out of his trance and stood up with Diego following suit. Diego picked you up bridal style and brought you to your room. After tucking you in, you mumbled a good night and an I love you for them both before drifting off to sleep.

Klaus smiled softly before kissing your forehead and mumbling a good night before stepping out of your room. Diego did the same and once outside, Klaus told him he can only ask one question and that’s it.

Thinking hard on it, Diego asked, “Why didn’t you tell me or the others- does Ben know? Does Fi-“

“Okay stop right there, Muchacho. That’s nearly three. I said one. And to answer your first question, it’s not my story to tell- and as far as i know, no, they don’t. Though I suspect that Five either knows or has his suspicions because of the random treats he leaves on her lap.”

With that said, Klaus turned on his heel and left to go sleep in his room, bidding Diego a good night.

After bidding Klaus a good night, Diego set off to go to his room. Once entering his room, he immediately laid down on his bed and started searching on his phone, He started researching anything and everyhing he can read that night about anxiety for hours on end in order to better understand what you’re going through better. Surprisingly, he found some similarities on regarding his stuttering. He wanted to know everything- to be prepared for it next time. He wanted to be able to help you in any way he can. Soon, he falls asleep without even knowing it.

When Diego next opens his eyes, it’s morning and the birds are chirping. And he can smell Five’s bitter beverage from all the way here.

Arriving at the kitchens, he notices your absence and comes to the conclusion that you’re still asleep. No one questions it as you do have your moments- but this time only he and Klaus, and maybe Five, know the real reason why.

Diego takes a deep breath and called for everyonek attention. The moment eveyone turned to look at him, he told them of what happened laat night, much to klaus’ dismay.

While everyone was processing the information, you bounded into the kitchens with your usual bright and happy smile. Hugging Klaus then Diego as a thank you for last night or earlier that morning- you felt your smile slipping from your face into a frown as you froze upon looking at everyone else’s facial expression. You just knew that they knew. And you also knoww how... Klaus would never... But maybe it was for the best that Diego told the others. You calmed yourself down by taking a deep breath in, pausing, then breathing out. You repeated this cycle about three times before relaxing completely.

Diego turned and swiftly but carefully pulled you onto his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck and rested your head against his chest while he wrapped his arms your waist- occasionally rubbing your back comfortingly.

To ease the remaining tension, Klaus spoke, “so... he’s like Eightie’s own personal psychopath huh?”

It worked. Everyone’s head turned to face him so fast, he’s surprised y’all didn’t get whiplash.

“Klaus, what the fuck?”

“What? He swoops in and isn’t afraid to kill people but he’s all nice and soft to her- like those romantic, well not romantic in their case, psychopath book type of things the Handler sent Fivey over there. Speaking of- who knew the Handler had a crush on Fivey- eugh.”

“Shut up.” Five and Allison’s response clashed, “he saves people, Klaus.”

Turning to Five he smiled at him, “hey, I’m just saying,” then turning to face to Allison, “yeah but like- he kills them too. Not psyco shaming you or anything Diego. Don’t worry- we accept you into this family- psychopathic tendencies and all.”

“Tha-no Kla-“

Rolling his eyes, Diego chose to stay quiet in favor of hugging you closer to him then kissing the top of your head as you quietly smiled at Ben across the table as he made faces to cheer you up.

Five responded, “he’s high Allison- there’s no point. Just stop.”

“Thank you, Fivey.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Thats no-thats not why he can-“

“Shoosh shoo-” Klaus was cut off by your adorable giggle.

You didn’t even notice that everyone was now smiling towards you; you were too focused on Ben who continued making funny faces at you. Diego kissed the top of your head which resulted in you smiling up at him with a gummy smile before leaning onto him and turning back to Ben who then told you to start eating your breakfast. You pouted and whined for a bit before complying and eating your pancakes with orange juice. Everyone continued with their breakfast with thoughts of how to help you cope with your anxiety- or on how to ease your fears. You were their little Eightie after all- they wanted you safe, yes- but most importantly, they wanted you to be happy. Truly happy.

#tua #tua x reader #the umbrella academy #diego hargreeves x reader #hargreeves x reader #hargreeves x sibling #number eight #allison hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves x reader #number five x reader #ben hargreeves x reader

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chicklette · 6 years

Text

I’ll pick you up (so you can fall)

Title/Link: I’ll pick you up (so you can fall)

Square Filled: SamBucky

Ship: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes

Words: 4560

Rating: M for language, themes//No explicit sex

Major Tags: terrible pick up lines, Post CW; Not Infinity War compliant, mentions of Steve/Tony, Steve Rogers is a good bro,

Summary: Bucky asks for Sam’s help with some pick up lines. Sam wonders who exactly Bucky’s trying to pick up.

Created for @mcukinkbingo

Sam’s sitting on the couch in the living room at Avenger’s tower, flipping through TV channels and periodically checking his phone. They all have their own private spaces, and he could be doing nothing there, but whether he’s willing to acknowledge it or not, he’s…waiting.

He looks up from his phone when Bucky walks in the door. “Well?” he asks, raising his eyebrows. “How’d it go?” A year after coming home from Wakanda (and getting the okay from his therapist), and Bucky’s been dipping his toes back into the dating pool. Steve’s been relentless in suggesting various men for Bucky to date, and Natasha’s been relentless in vetting them. Still, nothing’s clicked so far.

Bucky groans as his lip curls into a snarl. “Don’t ask. Can you believe I used to be good at this shit?”

“Actually, no, but if you say so, man.”

“Oh, fuck off, Wilson.”

Sam has to fight to hold back his smirk. Bucky’s only serious when he calls Sam by his given name. Wilson out of Bucky’s mouth means everything A-Ok.

“It couldn’t have been that bad,” Sam replies.

Bucky gives him a deadpan look. “The waiter dropped a stack of plates and I pushed my date down onto the floor and covered him with my body.”

“Ouch,” Sam hisses. “Still, at least he knows you’ll protect him if shit gets weird.”

“Yeah…he did not see the chivalry aspect of that particular move. It probably didn’t help that I’d already insulted his mustache.”

Sam’s lip curls. “He had a mustache?”

“What’s that look? You have a mustache.”

Quirking his lips and raising one brow, Sam says, “Yeah, but I look good.”

Bucky heaves a sigh as he falls into the armchair next to the couch. “Why did I think I could do this?” he asks the ceiling.

“Look, aside from that whole brain-washed assassin vibe you’ve got going on, I don’t see the problem. You clean up okay, and I hear man-buns are in.”

Without taking his eyes from the ceiling, Bucky flips Sam off.

Letting out a chuckle, Sam leans forward. “Seriously though,” Sam begins, and then startles when he realizes he’s about to make a sincere offer of help. Breathing deep, he forges ahead. “What’s the objective? You just trying to get laid, or are you looking for Twu Wuv?”

“You think you’re hilarious, but you’re not. So sad.”

“Hey, at least I haven’t been dating my right hand for the last seventy years.”

“Not just the right one,” Bucky says with a smirk, and Sam can’t help the chuckle that it pulls from him, even as he rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. Well, you want any pointers, you let me know.”

“Yeah, full offense, but isn’t the reason you’re hanging out at home on a Friday night is because you struck out with that girl from HR?”

“Excuse you, I did not strike out. She thought it would be awkward to date since we work together. I respected her decision.”

“Hey, man, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Sam smiles, but he hears the hidden commiseration. It’s not hard at all finding someone who wants to date the Winter Soldier or the Falcon. However, it’s turned out to be harder than expected to find someone who wants to date Sam Wilson, or Bucky Barnes.

“Of the three of us, how is it that Steve is the one in a successful relationship?” Sam asks.

“I think it’s that whole ‘shared life experiences’ thing,” Bucky replies.

Steve and Tony had quietly started dating a few months after Bucky came out of cryo for the last time. They still bicker endlessly, but there’s an affection there that makes everyone who watches them smile. When Sam had asked why Steve and Bucky never got together, their responses were equally horrified.

“Whaaaat?” Steve asked, his face a study of “Do Not Want.”

“Gross,” Bucky replied, looking so distraught that Sam dropped the subject and never asked again.

“Seriously though,” Sam says. “What’s your best line? Lay it on me.”

“Line?” There’s a little crease of confusion between Bucky’s brows and it’s definitely not adorable.

“Yeah, like, “If looks could kill, baby, you’d be a weapon of mass destruction.”

Bucky blinks at him. “I am a weapon of mass destruction.”

Sam glares at him until he starts to look sheepish. “Sorry,” he says, running his hand over the scruff at his jaw. “I’m a man, not a weapon.”

Sam gives him a look that says ‘you’re damned right,” before taking another pull from his beer. “Anyway,” Sam says. “Sorry ‘bout your date.”

Bucky shrugs. “Wanna order a pizza?” he asks.

“Didn’t you just eat?”

“And?” Bucky asks, looking confused.

“Yeah, alright. No mushrooms.”

“You got no taste, Wilson,” Bucky says, and pulls out his phone to place the order and let security know about the incoming delivery.

Later, once they’ve demolished a couple of pizzas, a side of breadsticks, and a family sized salad, the two of them hang out on the couch, watching TV, engaging in a little gentle ribbing. It’s not until Sam’s in bed and about to drift off to sleep that he realizes it’s one of the best nights he’s had in a long time. He tries not to examine it too much. It’s one thing to be bi. It’s another to be kind of gay for a hundred-year-old former world’s-deadliest-assassin. He rolls his eyes at himself and turns over to go to sleep.

The next morning, Bucky sidles up to him while they’re making coffee in the main kitchen. Sam’s been for his morning run with Steve, and from the looks of things, Bucky’s just rolled out of bed.

“Hey,” Bucky mumbles.

“Hey,” Sam replies. He might hate running, but at least it’s the kick in the ass he needs to get his day going. He’s got a group to lead at the VA in about an hour, and he’s supposed to do some training with Wanda in the afternoon. Avenging’s a good life. He could be doing a lot worse.

“Wilson,” Bucky says, and Sam snaps out of his reverie, realizing that Bucky’s been trying to get his attention.

“What’s up?”

Bucky opens his mouth to say something, then closes it and looks away. “Nothing. ‘Morning.”

Sam arches an eyebrow. “Okaaay.”

“Just, uhm, you know how you said you would help me?”

Looking Bucky over, Sam sees the way that Bucky’s shoulders are hunching, a sure sign of his discomfit, and Sam considers himself lucky to be seeing it. Lucky that Bucky trusts him enough to show his anxiety, rather than hiding behind the façade he wears like a second skin.

A quip is on the tip of Sam’s tongue, but he can’t be sure how Bucky’ll take it, so he holds his tongue and nods. “What’d you have in mind?” he asks.

“IreadthisthingontheinternetandIwantedtopracticeonyou, he says, all in one breath.

“You what now?”

“I read this thing on the internet,” Bucky says again, “and I wondered if I could practice on you?”

Sam smiles, slow and easy. “And what’s this thing you read?”

“It’s a – uhm, line?”

“You want to try a pick up line on me?”

“Forget it,” Bucky says, and turns away.

“Hey,” Sam says, and reaches out for Bucky’s arm before he can get too far. There was a time when Sam was acutely aware of touching the metal arm. Now, though, it’s just another part of Bucky Barnes. He’s not even aware of the difference most of the time.

“Come on,” Sam says, when Bucky finally turns around. “Lay it on me.”

“Just, um.” Bucky walks over to the dish rack and pulls out a bunch of forks and knives, then walks back to Sam. “I – I have all.” He stops himself and looks down, face pinking. Taking a deep breath, Bucky looks Sam in the eye and starts over. “I have all these forks and knives, baby, but what I need is a little spoon.”

Sam stares for a moment, slack jawed, before busting out in the biggest grin. “That was fucking terrible,” he says, a giggle rising in his throat. As he stands there, he’s sure that the response he’s having – heart beating fast, warmth creeping into his face – has nothing to do with the way Bucky’s looking at him, eyes wide and hopeful, a light blush across his cheeks, and his lips curving into one of the most sincere smiles Sam has ever seen. No, his response has to do with the absolute awfulness of that pick up line.

As he gives in to the giggle, Bucky starts to grin. “Hey,” he says, raising his eyebrows. “Made ya laugh at least.”

“Yeah, you keep working on that,” he says, turning toward his coffee. He looks back up just in time to see Bucky give a mock salute.

“Sir, yessir!” he says, and walks away.

Looking back, Sam can say one thing for sure: He has no idea that he’s just unleashed a monster.

A few days later, Sam’s heading down to the training room and Bucky, soaked in sweat and red-cheeked, seems to be coming back from there. They’re about to pass one another on the stairs when Bucky pauses, and bends to look at Sam’s pants.

“What…?” Sam asks.

“Are…are those mirrors on your pants, Wilson?”

Sam hardly has time to process the words before Bucky’s standing upright again, and right in Sam’s space. “Cause I sure can see myself in them,” Bucky finishes and continues his trek upstairs, leaving a baffled Sam in his wake.

About a week later, there have been no additional forays into the world of pickup lines, and Sam starts letting his guard down. It’s another quiet Friday night: Steve and Tony are trying out a new sushi place, Nat and Clint are doing recon in one of the countries that end in stan, and Wanda is in California, visiting Scott and Luis. Sam’s not exactly sure where the world’s deadliest assassin is spending the evening, and he tells himself that he doesn’t care.

Still, when the elevator pings and Bucky steps into the shared space, Sam can’t help but feel a little bit more at ease. They choose a movie, Bucky orders Thai food, and the two of them settle into a comfortable silence, punctuated by quips aimed both at one another and the film.

Bucky and Sam are in the training room, going over the latest set of simulations. Sam swoops down, picks Bucky up, and then drops him down onto a platform, where he rolls and comes up firing. At least, that’s how it’s meant to go in theory. In reality, Sam drops Bucky, Bucky rolls…and rolls himself right off of the platform, falling about two stories onto the padded mats below.

“Shit,” Sam swears as he comes to land next to Bucky. “Shit. You okay?”

Groaning, Bucky rolls onto his back. “My appendix,” he moans, and Sam’s eyes widen.

“What?”

“I think…I think you’re my appendix,” Bucky says, his face lighting into a grin. “I’m not sure what you do, but I’m pretty sure I should take you out.”

“Man, fuck you,” Sam says, turning away to hide his grin. “I thought you were really hurt.”

“Aw, were you worried about me Sammy?”

“No.”

“Aw, you were, weren’t you? That’s so sweet,” Bucky says, rolling up to his feet and shaking off the fall. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Sam says. “They made sure I’m damn near indestructible.”

“Yeah,” Sam says. “Alright.”

It shouldn’t be a surprise when Sam walks into the common room a few days later and Bucky looks at him and winces. It shouldn’t be, but….

“Did it hurt?” Bucky asks, when Sam gives him a questioning look.

“What?”

“Did it hurt?” Bucky asks, getting up and stalking toward Sam, and damn. He looks really fucking good in black jeans and a dark blue Henley. Really fucking good. His hair’s up in a loose bun, but strands of it are falling down around his face, and his cheekbones, Jesus. No one should have cheekbones like that. It’s just not fair.

“When you fell from heaven, sweetheart,” Bucky says, getting close enough for Sam to smell him, clean and a little earthy, warm. “Did it hurt?”

“I will fucking end you,” Sam says, but there’s no bite to the words. In fact, if he’s being honest (he’s not), they come out maybe just a little bit breathy.

“Promises, promises,” Bucky says, then walks away, all fluid grace and swagger.

Sam lets out a heavy sigh and leans against the wall. “That fuckin’ guy,” he mutters to himself.

It’s gotten to the point that Sam starts dreading being alone with Bucky, in part because he never pulls that flirty shit when any of the team are around, and in part because…because…because Sam’s maybe, kind of, just a little bit falling for it. Maybe.

It’s just…Bucky’s really attractive. It’s those high cheekbones and all that hair, the way his lips curve at the corners, and how he lights up when he’s happy. Sam never thought he’d be looking at Bucky with anything like want, but, here they are.

He’s not entirely sure what to do with his crush. For the time being, he decides to let it sit. After all, Barnes probably doesn’t mean anything by it. No sense in letting a dumb crush come between them.

And if he lets himself hope a little, well, that’s just his business.

Still, that sliver of hope that he’s allowed himself crumbles a few days later when he’s running with Steve.

“Hey,” Steve says, slowing up his regular triple time pace to keep pace with Sam. “How’s the project going?”

“Project?” Sam asks.

“Yeah, Buck said you were helping him out with something. He was really excited about it, but now he won’t say a word.”

“Oh,” Sam says. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re gonna laugh,” Sam says, feeling protective of Bucky, and hey, that’s new.

“I won’t.”

“It’s – it’s ridiculous,” Sam pants. “He asked me to help him learn how to flirt.”

Steve coughs out a laugh, then stops jogging when the laugh overtakes him. He’s doubled over his knees laughing when Sam’s about had enough.

“It’s not that funny,” he says. “I do have some game.”

“No,” Steve laughs, holding a placating hand up. “No, it’s not that that – it’s just – Sam, Bucky’s the biggest flirt I know. Always has been. He said he learned growing up with three sisters, but man, he could charm the socks off of anyone back in the day. Still can, from what I’ve seen.”

Sam shrugs, feeling…hurt? Defensive? He’s not sure.

“Well I don’t know what he’s playing at, then,” Sam says, and Steve straightens at his tone.

“Hey,” he says. “Come on. If he asked you for help, he must need it. I think he still thinks you don’t like him, Sam.”

“What?” Sam’s thinking of all the Friday night’s they’ve spent together, how Bucky knows his orders for Thai, Sushi, Chinese, Japanese, and pizza, and how he knows that it’s Star Wars and not Star Trek, thank you very much, Tony Stark.

Steve shrugs. “Anyway, I do know there’s someone he’s been wanting to ask out for a while now, so maybe it’s just nerves. Either way, thank you, Sam. I know you didn’t get along at first, but I’m grateful that you’re willing to help him now.”

“Pfft,” Sam says. “He is my friend, too, you know. It’s not like this is some big favor.”

Steve smiles, then starts jogging in place. “Last one to Harold’s buys the donuts,” he says.

“Oh,” Sam says, making a face. “I better put in my best effort. Maybe today’s the day I beat you.” His tone is dry and flat.

“This is why you never beat me,” Steve yells over his shoulder. “Too much yapping.”

“I hate you,” Sam yells, but picks up the pace nonetheless.

That evening Sam’s mulling over his delivery choices in the common room when Bucky gets off of the elevator. He’s clean shaven and his hair is pulled back, off his face and in a neat bun at the base of his neck. He’s wearing dark jeans and a soft blue Henley, with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. He looks – he looks good, and Sam has to remind himself not to stare.

“Hey man,” he says, and tries to keep it casual. He feels ready for whatever Barnes is going to throw him.

“Hey,” Bucky says. He walks to the fridge and grabs a couple of beers out, handing one to Sam.

“So,” Bucky says. “Chinese? Italian? What’re we doing tonight?”

“We?” Sam answers. “And here I thought you had a date, looking like that.”

Bucky colors slightly. “Nah,” he says, and goes for his hair, pulling out the tie that’s holding it in place. It falls around his face and Sam suppresses a groan. His long, wavy hair throws the sharpness of his jawline and cheekbones into sharp contrast.

“Oh,” Sam finally says. “You looked nice.”

Coloring further, Bucky moves to wrap his hair back up, but Sam stays him.

“Hey,” he says. “Whatever makes you comfortable.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything, but slips the hair tie around his wrist. He comes around to stand next to Sam, looking over his shoulder at the take out menus.

“We could go out,” Bucky says. “There’s a new steakhouse that Steve was talking up the other day….” Bucky trails off and kind of shrugs.

Sam feels like he’s losing his equilibrium. He can’t help but feel that he’s missing something, and something big, but he’s not sure what it is.

“A steakhouse?” he says, and Bucky brightens, smiles.

Sam’s starting to feel like he’s in pretty big trouble here, because he finds himself agreeing just so Bucky won’t lose that look on his face.

“Okay,” he says. “Just let me get changed.”

Bucky shrugs and smiles and waits.

By the time they get back to the tower, they’re both stuffed to the gills. The steakhouse was excellent. They’d both ordered the tomahawk cut rib-eyes, with a bevy of sides to go with. When the bill came, Bucky insisted on paying, and once or twice, he’d put his hand at the small of Sam’s back when they were walking. It gave Sam that feeling of everything being off kilter, like a room where all the furniture’s been moved just a couple of inches to the left.

“Now what?” Sam asks, and all but throws himself on the couch. He’s giving serious thought to going upstairs to change into sweats, but thinks he can probably get away with just unbuttoning the top button of his jeans instead.

Bucky comes to sit beside him for a moment, before he jumps back up and grabs a couple of beers.

“I don’t know where you think I’m gonna put that,” Sam says, wondering if he can get away with undoing that button without Bucky noticing.

Shrugging, Bucky sets Sam’s beer down on the table, and perches at the edge of the couch. Sam’s just about to ask him what’s up, when he turns and looks at Sam and it’s - it’s devastating.

Bucky looks young and innocent, and absolutely breathtaking. Whatever Sam was about to say catches in his throat as Bucky looks at him, licks his lips then bites his bottom lip. Sam can’t tell if it’s a nervous tick or something he’s doing for show, but whatever it is, it looks good.

“I need some advice, Sam.”

“Alright, whatcha got?”

“There’s this guy. He’s gorgeous, smart, funny. He’s maybe the best person I know,” Bucky says and thats - that’s saying a lot. “He’s probably way out of my league, but…” and Bucky hunches his shoulders. “I don’t know what to say to him, and none of my lines have worked so far.”

Oh, Sam thinks, as he tamps down the hurt. Oh. Whoever this guy is, Bucky’s pretty clearly…pretty clearly in love with him. Oh.

Okay.

“You know,” Sam says, and suddenly he wants to be anywhere but here. “Just, you know, walk up to him, introduce yourself, tell him you’d like to take him out. Can’t win if you don’t try,” Sam says.

“Okay,” Bucky says. “So….” He stands and comes around to the side of the table where Sam is. “Hi. I’m Bucky,” he says, putting his hand out. “I think you’re so great,” he says, and there’s this gorgeous earnestness in Bucky’s eyes. Sam’s heart keens a little at that. “I was just hoping...would you let me take you out sometime?”

Sam smiles, but it feels like a fraud on his face. “That’s good, Barnes. Just like that, and he’ll be putty in your hands.”

Bucky looks startled for a moment, before he blinks and takes his hand back. That beatific smile from a moment ago is gone, and Sam can’t help but feel jealous of the guy that Bucky’s gonna aim it at next.

“Okay,” Bucky says, taking a deep breath. “Okay. I gotta - I’m going to bed,” he says, and quicks as that, disappears.

In the weeks that come, Sam hardly sees Bucky outside of their schedules sparring sessions and missions. There’s a group movie night, but Bucky sticks to Steve like glue, offering Sam nothing more than a smile from across the room. Sam smiles back - he’s genuinely starting to miss the guy, but he figures that whoever Bucky was working up to asking out must have said yes, because he’s been scarce at the tower. Sam might have dropped by his rooms once or twice on a Friday night, but his knocks went unanswered, and Jarvis was mum on the subject of Bucky’s whereabouts when asked.

He finally can’t take it anymore, so the next time he and Steve are running, he brings it up.

“So,” Sam says. “Barnes.”

“Yeah?”

“Guess it’s going good with that guy he was trying to ask out? Haven’t seen him around much.”

“Huh?” Steve says, and that asshole isn’t even out of breath.

“Have you met him at least?” Sam asks.

Steve stops jogging and drops down onto a grassy patch next to their usual path. “I don’t - Sam,” he says, and he’s got this look on his face, like he’s trying to figure out what to say.

“What is it?” Sam asks. As close as he and Barnes have gotten, he still counts Steve as his best friend.

Steve gives Sam a long, speculative look. “Bucky did ask someone out. Someone he really likes and admires. Someone he’d been getting close to. But the guy didn’t take him seriously,” Steve says, and he gives Sam a hard look. “So Bucky retreated.”

At that, Steve stands up and stretches an elbow up over his head. “I”m gonna head back to the tower. I’ll...see you later.”

Sam blinks and watches as Steve stretches the other arm. Is he...did he just…?

“Steve,” Sam says, because he feels like he’s finally getting a clue.

“See ya, Sam.” Steve turns and begins to jog away.

“Steve!” He watches as Captain Tiny Ass jogs away, leaving him on the grass to think.

He goes over the last few months in his head, how Bucky was at turns awkward and suave, how he always seemed to have time for Sam, until he didn’t have any time for Sam. Their dinner out. The way he’d put his hand on the small of Sam’s back to steer him. His earnest smile when he’d asked Sam out.

“Aw, fuck me,” Sam groans and flops back onto the grass. He gives himself a full minute to wallow in his own dumbassery, before pulling out his phone.

A couple of hours and one bodega stop later, Sam is haunting the common room when he’s supposed to be in the training room. He hopes that Bucky come down, thinking that Sam won’t be there. He hopes that what he’s doing will be enough.

He hopes.

The elevator pings and the doors slide open and Bucky steps out. He only takes a step before he notices Sam, and Sam watches as his posture goes rigid. Sam comes from around the counter, his arms full of limes, and takes two steps toward Bucky before the limes start to fall, cascading onto the floor and rolling everywhich way.

“Shit,” he says, and bends to retrieve them. Bucky joins, chasing a few down before returning to hand them over to Sam.

Sam looks up at him, gives Bucky his very best grin, and says “Hey, thanks, man. I guess I’m really bad at pick up limes.”

Bucky stares at him a moment, eyes wide and unblinking. Sam stands resolutely in place, smile fixed on his face.

“You…” Bucky starts, but trails off.

Sam’s grin deepens.

“Holy shit, sweetheart,” Bucky finally says, a wide grin splitting his face. “That was the worst!” It’s followed by a disbelieving chuckle and Sam’s pretty sure he’s more than halfway home.

“Did it work?” Sam asks, with a slow blink.

“Goddamn,” Bucky says, dropping his limes and sliding an arm around Sam’s waist. “It took you long enough.”

Sam drops his limes and steps into Bucky’s embrace. “Well, you know I’m not as fast as you.”

“That’s okay, sweetheart,” Bucky says, and presses a small, soft kiss right behind Sam’s ear. “I’ll wait up.”

Sam nearly melts then, because Bucky’s pressing a line of kisses along his jaw, and calling him sweetheart, and holding him like he’s afraid Sam will fly away.

“I’m sorry,” Sam says, and then: “I’ve missed you.”

Bucky snuffles something into Sam’s neck, then holds him tighter.

“Sorry I made you wait so long,” Sam says, and presses a kiss against Bucky’s cheek.

Bucky pulls back to look at him. His eyes are clear and bright, that blue-gray shade that he’s missed so much, and Sam’s fingers tighten on Bucky’s shirt because this is - he gets to have this.

“Worth it,” Bucky says, and leans in to brush the softest kiss against Sam’s lip. “Totally worth it.”

As the afternoon slips into the evening, their kisses grow for frequent, then more lingering, then more heated. When Sam takes Bucky by the hand to lead him to his rooms, he pauses and asks, “Is this okay?”

“More than,” Bucky says, and kisses him long, and deep, and hot. “Besides, I gotta show you all the other tricks I’ve learned from the internet.”

Sam only has a moment to worry before Bucky’s manhandled him into the bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him.

“Should I be worried?” Sam asks, tugging his t-shirt off and tossing it near the hamper.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Bucky says, and Sam thinks that that particular endearment will never get old. “You have no idea.”

As it turns out, Bucky’s right.

And as it turns out, Sam doesn’t mind in the least.

AN: shoutout to @jinojiboundagain for the inspiration and @rainbowwisher for being the best ever.

#MCUKINKBINGO #sambucky #terrible pick up lines #humor?#fuck i hope so

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fanofawesomethings · 7 years

Text

The Melting Ice

This story was commissioned by @dontunderestimatemypoison for Jack and Tooth Fairy (Frost Bite?).

If you want a fic of your own, message me and I will tell you my prices and rules for a commission

Snowflakes danced in a spiral tornado spiritedly to the whim of his lazy fingers. As they fluttered and spun, snow sprinkled down on his stomach like chips of diamond, melting slowly because of Jack’s cold body temperature. They tickled his pearl white skin but he could only be bothered to give a lazier snicker. When it finally melted, as the drop rolled off his waist it quickly hardened as it dripped. Beneath him snow formed like a white carpet from how long he sat there.

Being on top of a skyscraper in New York City, overlooking the flickering lights of the posters in Time Square, didn’t provide the same thrill as any of the other times Jack was there. He was deaf to the lively sounds below since they didn’t interest him much.

“I guess I could see Jersey Boys again, haven’t seen that one in a while,” Jack said to himself. He pondered the thought a little more. “Nah, the middle act is so weak. Maybe the next Wicked showing…but the only songs I like are Popular, Feeling and Gravity. So, so, so, so bored.”

Jack kicked his feet and stood upright. He hopped on one of the skyscraper’s gargoyles, a beaked creature whose body was withered because of the other times Jack was there. Icicles formed beneath its chin like a beard of clear knives.

“You know, Rocksalt, I thought things would get more interesting after this whole Guardian thing was done. But all I got was a fancy title and these ugly boots I threw down one of Rabbit’s holes. I didn’t think there’d be so much without a single word from the others.”

Rocksalt’s silence seemed to be responses to his talking.

“Maybe I should drop in on the ol’ gang,” Jack whistled eagerly. “Santi over there’s probably up to his beard with toys right about now so he’s probably too busy. Never asked where Sandy goes to, maybe the beach. Bun-Bun isn’t ready to get chummy with me yet. Guess that just leaves Tooth.”

Jack kicked the staff to his hand, it mysterious influence filling his sluggish body with energy. He filled his lungs with the winter wind, the sound of it whistling by his ear. The tip of his foot touched off Rocksalt’s head. If anyone could see Jack they’d see a boy free falling like a sack of potatoes. The rush of cold wind pulled his hair into a mess. The ground grew larger and larger. It always thrilled Jack to wait for the last possible second. Jack flipped his body around, inches from the ground, and spread his arms and legs apart. The wind caught his body before his nose touched the gravel. The humans around him only felt the wind start to pick up. He rocketed straight back up and over the skyscraper with a single gust, not stopping until the clouds themselves were beneath him. Once surrounded by a sea of gray fluff, Jack was then carried southeast, towards Asia.

Flying at the mercy of the winds Jack was more like a feather than a commander. He could only go as far as one gust of wind would take him before he needed to switch to another one. A long journey of hearing nothing but the wind in his ear was ahead of him. But Jack was never bored. Breaks in the clouds let him see the world below, sometimes cities, sometimes the ocean, sometimes mountains; they waved to him as he soared by. He has zigzagged all over the world in his extended life, but Jack could swear he never saw the same things twice.

Inside the mouth of a mountain that surpassed all others around it and the clouds themselves the Tooth Palace shined like a crowning tooth. Jack dropped from the wind and glided down. The golden platforms beneath jeweled chandelier-liked birdcages were decorated in bright, joyous colors that perfect reflected the palace owner’s sporadic personality. Without a hint of fright and with the abyss of the drop below tempting him to fall, Jack grabbed a handle and slide down the railing of one platform, and landed softly on the one beneath it. Like most trips his hair ended up a mess.

“Hey Tooth! Tooth Fairy! It’s Jack—friend, co-worker, fellow Guardian—come to frolic and play!” Jack called out. No answer.

The Palace was unusually still for being so close to night time, locally. Jack didn’t see any of the little fairies or hear their thin wings whipping across the cave. He leapt onto another platform and then to another, searching the cavern, until finally he saw a paint blotch of green and blue feathers, sitting still of all things. The Tooth Fairy sat in the middle of her birdcage, chewing on her fingernails while a nervous twitch overcame her body. She didn’t seem to notice Jack.

“Uh…Tooth?” Jack spoke.

“—tralia northwest, cani—no, south Ontario left premo—wait, then there’s a third molar at Kyo—and the right canine at—no wait—” the Tooth Fairy mumbled to herself. Each name and tooth she said out loud seemed to add more strain on her nerves. Her head darted left to right after every spout of jumbled words.

“Tooth, you’re doing it again.”

Again she didn’t turn around. She saw straight through Jack as he sat cross-legged in front of her. He put his hands on her shoulders to keep her still, but Tooth’s nervous trembling was strong enough to pass the shaking over to Jack as he held her.

“Come on, Tooth, snap out it. Don’t make me do the thing you made me promise to do.”

“If you’re not talking premolar then I don’t want to—Jack!” Tooth was startled by the person who was there in front of her for a good few minutes. She sighed, relieved. “It’s just you.”

The lack of thinking allowed her to view the world around her. She was unaware that it was almost sunset. But more importantly the break from overthinking let her see Jack and how close he was, and where his hands were. A streak of red washed over her pink cheeks, blushing.

“J-Jack…what’re you doing?” Tooth asked.

Jack looked again and he threw his hands away in response. The two split apart, bashful.

“S-So, what brings you he—BOTTOM LEFT CANINE!” Tooth blurted out before slapping her hand over her mouth, embarrassed. “Sorry, it’s just I’m a bit on high alert.”

“Just a bit huh?” Jack chuckled.

“Yes, I know. But I’m only like this because—INCOMING!”

The cave exploded into a wave of deafening chirps as a moving cloud blocked out the sun. The rapid flaps of a thousand little stormed into the Palace and surrounded Jack, Tooth and every single on the massive platforms. Little Tooth Fairies zoomed to drop the baby teeth into their appropriate containers, but just as quickly as they came the same ones left. Those who remains bumped into each, crashed into each other, and got so turned around they stayed longer than those who fought to leave quickly.

“So what’s going on?!” Jack needed to shout over the Fairies flapping, covering his ears.

“Sports’ season! All over the world kids are losing teeth faster than my Fairies can handle!” Tooth shouted. She was used to the booming sound.

“So that’s why you’re so stressed out?!”

“Yes! Every few seconds I’m getting a new tooth location!” Tooth held herself in place. A flutter of words zoomed in and around her mind. “Oh no!”

“What’s wrong?!” “An entire team of soccer players got into a fight! Every single of them has lost a lot of teeth! Plus there are others losing even more!”

Finally the wave of Fairies had left. After a relentless cluster of sounds and chirps Jack needed a moment for the hearing to return to his ears.

The sky as the sun began to set under the mountainous horizon looked like a still painting. Clouds switched their coat of orange and yellow to hues of purple and blue. But even as the light bouncing off the gold platforms faded the Palace wasn’t in any way dark. As thought illuminated by the inside, the gold and jewels glowed brighter than before.

“You know, the last time I saw you out in the field you were happier than I’ve ever seen you,” said Jack with a comforting smile. Tooth blushed. “Maybe it’ll do you good to go back other for a while and clear your head. And I can come with…I mean if you want…I mean I’m free in case you were wondering…that’s why I was in the neighborhood.”

Tooth giggled. “Jack, are you bored again?”

“Whaaaat? Psst, no way I keep myself entertained all day, every day. I just figured you needed help if you were going.”

“Funny because North told me you only ever volunteer to help in Guardian duties when you’re bored.”

“Oh come on, Tooth, you know me better than that.” Jack gave a smile that feigned innocence, but it wasn’t as though Tooth was new to Jack’s trickery.

She played along. “Alright, Jack, I could use the help since you’re offering. But I don’t want you slowing me down, tooth-gathering is serious business and very fast paced.”

“Are you really telling that to the guy who just a couple of months ago helped you collect more teeth than Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and the Sandman combined? Oh and on my first time even.”

“Uh-uh, I distinctly remember Santa Claus had the most.”

“So does that mean the stress has made you delusional?” The two laughed.

“Come on, smart guy, we have a lot of flying to do to get to Mexico. That’s where we’re headed since the Mice are all in Spain.” As Tooth pushed against her feet to take off, Jack grabbed her hand and held her in place. He showed the staff to her.

“We’ll get there faster if we travel in my style. Come on.”

Jack led her out of the cave and onto the cliff’s edge. Tooth wasn’t accustomed to riding the winds, so as Jack waited for a gust to come his way she wondered why they weren’t moving. A touch of wind stroked Jack’s snow silver hair; Tooth was enamored by the locks that glistened like stainless steel. She discovered then that it wasn’t just Jack’s teeth that sparkled like snow. Jack took the wind in his lungs, letting his body become weightless, at their mercy. He tightened his grip on Tooth’s hand.

“Get ready, here we go!” Jack warned a few seconds before he and Tooth were sent flying—before Tooth had gotten herself ready.

In a single burst of speed the two soared above the clouds. Tooth clutched onto Jack’s hands with both hers. The ground looked so much farther away than what she was used to flying with her own wings; the change of pace caught the Fairy off guard and made the ground frightening as though she’d never flown a day in her life. She wrapped herself around Jack’s hand as they stopped rising and floated waiting for the next gust.

“Don’t let go of my hand,” said Jack.

Tooth held on tighter. She was startled for a moment, but the wind picked up and blew them away and she was forgot her thought—Tooth felt a twinge of heat on Jack’s hands. What she felt after took up her thoughts. The wind pushed against her body, she felt it tickle the bottom of her feet and her tail. She felt like she was free but at the same time not in control. It was a confusing sensation, one that lasting for a while because of the long trip across the ocean to Mexico, but it had its benefits by making her hold onto Jack’s arm. Tooth swore she could feel a bit of muscle beneath his hoodie.

With Tooth never once releasing the vice grip she had around Jack’s arm, Jack flew with a bit of a wobble. He couldn’t enjoy the freedom of the open sky while trying to maintain his balance. It wasn’t just his weighted side. Jack’s body stiffened having Tooth hold onto him; he flew more like a Flying Squirrel than his usual cool and collected self. The reason was simple but Jack didn’t acknowledge it, or risk making himself more stressed.

By the time the last star joined the others in the sky and the moon was at its strongest on one side of the world, they saw the afternoon sun greeting them the country. Mexico had always appeared list a cluster of colors below to Jack.

“Do you smell that?” Jack asked, breaking the silence that went on since they left the Tooth Palace.

Tooth sniffed around though it was difficult with the speeding air. “It smells…like…ugh—gas!”

Jack was overjoyed. “I know, right, thank you! Some gets it! Every time I come here its all I smell.”

“But why is that? We’re not even close to the ground.”

“I have no idea but I find it strangely relaxing sometimes. So where too specifically?”

Tooth pointed. “That way, to a city called Moroleón!”

“It’s really helpful that you know exactly where, because I was afraid we’d have to cover a lot of ground. Get ready!” He said abruptly.

Tooth sensed something terrible coming. “Jack Frost if you—”

“Let’s go!” He dove in a turn across the sky without a second to give Tooth time to prepare. Jack actually thought he went too far that time as Tooth’s nails dug through his sweater and pierced his skin. He couldn’t hear her screams over his own laughter.

The day showed no signs of ending soon for the two night-prowling Guardians. The small city still had so much more to give as the people down below crisscrossed a center plaza besides a cathedral. Jack and Tooth sat on top of the church, inside the bell tower beneath two rusted brown bells, which were miniscule compared to the bells the two have seen before in other parts of the world. Moroleón was not large yet it had no shortage of people. Tooth’s wings perked up like rabbit ears and pulled her out of the window. Vigilant, she scanned the plaza of its inhabitants but ignoring the colorful array of music and interesting things to do, that capture Jack’s attention, for a group of screaming and laughing children.

“There there!” Tooth pointed. She raced back to pull Jack by the collar and showed him.

“The kids?”

“It’s an elementary futbol team! And early this morning they had a run in with their rival team earlier this morning and both their team and their rivals lost plenty of teeth!”

Jack looked again and saw the messy condition the children were in that he missed the first time. Each one of the boys and girls were covered from head to toe with bruises and blood marks, some of which looked like it wasn’t theirs. Their uniforms were a patchwork of tatters that stuck to their bodies somehow despite the various holes and rips. They were receiving concerned and frightened expressions from the adults around them, but the children were too busy laughing to notice. One of the girls, a short-haired girl who looked more like a high-strung cat, held her teeth above her head like a real trophy and the others cheered.

“Oh show me those pearly whites just one more time!” Tooth gushed when the girl closed her hand, overexcited.

“Yeah…those are some pretty teeth,” said Jack, not at all seeing the appeal.

“Aren’t they?! You should see Roberto’s, he has a cutely little chip on his left lateral incisor. Oh I shouldn’t say I’m glad he lost that tooth because I’ve always wanted to hold it, but I’m excited to hold it! And—and—Paula! She has the most perfect bottom right canine! It reminds me of a puppy!”

Jack backed away. He jumped on top of the bell which sounded being moved. “You know we got a couple hours before they go to sleep, how about we have some fun?”

“No offense, Jack, but I’m afraid to agree for what you have in mind.”

“Have you heard of sudden snow day?” His brow curled with suggestive mischievousness hidden underneath.

“Not happening, Jack Frost.”

Jack laughed falling to her side. “Relax I was kidding, for the most part. Well, what do you usually do for fun?”

Such a simple question seemed to go over her head and rupture her poised demeanor by mystifying her. Tooth gave a pause. She murmured under her breath as though trying to ask herself the same question. For once the buzzing information in her head didn’t turn her speedy or sporadic; she was lost.

“I don’t know actually, I don’t have a lot of free time to myself anymore,” said Tooth, down.

“You gotta have some time,” Jack shrugged.

“Not at all. Once you’re a Guardian the children come first, and everything you do has to be for them. But it’s not like I’m miserable or anything. All I’ve ever wanted to do was to make children happy, as far back…as I can remember.”

“Yeah, I guess you have to be a Guardian on the clock, even more so than North or Bun, but I think you should have some fun. Or else your work suffers.”

Tooth gasped. “You think?!”

Jack saw an opportunity. “Of course, I think I’m starting to see it now. You know if you crack who’ll collect the teeth?”

“Oh no!”

“Relax, Tooth. Let me help you out, if there’s one thing I can do, its have fun.”

The innocent townspeople down below were not aware that they quickly became the subject of Jack’s idea of “fun”. He looked for a target among the masses in the plaza and thinking up different ways to play with them. But a prime target came to him when a skinny man with a mop of black hair strutted into the plaza with an air of self-indulgence engorging his pig nose. He tapped the shoulder of a little boy and swiped his ice-cream when he wasn’t looking. Tooth and Jack both saw what he did and they were in agreement.

A miniature gust of snow came from Jack’s lips and collected into his hands until a white snowball the size of an apple formed. He held it to Tooth who looked at the sphere hesitation, not sure what to do with it. Jack gestured it to the man. At first that was the last thing the goodhearted Tooth Fairy had in mind, but as the man swiped a money purse from a nearly blind old woman she found grabbing the snowball and readying her arm.

“Put your strength into your fingers, and always aim,” said Jack.

Tooth closed her eyes as she reeled back and threw it. But the weak throw would’ve ensured that the snowball was destined never to reach the target. Jack scanned the area around the man swiftly; he exhaled a strong gust of cold hair that strengthened the snowball’s speed until it smacked the man on the cheeks, setting off a chain of events that Jack didn’t intend.

The man was pushed into a snack cart. In doing so the owner was startled into letting go of the cart and so it wheeled away with the man still riding it. At the mercy of the slanted land the cart circled the plaza, running in to everything. It passed by a toy stand and the man was struck with an inflatable bat, it passed underneath a low hanging branch and the man was hit with leaves. A trio of mariachis saw the commotion and played a theme song to the man’s peril. The man tried to jump off the cart as it started to slow down but his hand slipped and his backside got stuck; a basket of sugar for the churros fell on his hair. The cart finally stopped; toppling over, the man nearly vomited from the motion.

The entire plaza lit up with laughter. Jack rolled around holding his sides. Tooth didn’t want to find it funny, as it wasn’t something she intended happen, but not even she could resist the absurdity. She laughed while trying to maintain her air of composure. It was the first time Jack had ever seen Tooth laugh so hard; the normally sophisticated and motherly fairy started chortling after every few laughs. Jack’s cheeks gained some color.

They sat and watched the aftermath of their fun for a while. The man was helped to his feet by the police who later on arrested the man for robbing the old woman. Rejuvenated by the unexpected event, the plaza came alive stronger than before. The mariachi trio started playing, without having to be tipped first. The spicy melodies they strummed came from a lumpy wooden guitar, an old violin and a torn cello, yet they enticed Tooth. Her eyelids seemed to get heavier with the Spanish lullaby being sung; she unconsciously fell on Jack’s shoulder. Her rest was too peaceful for Jack to risk waking her by moving; he had to sit still until the sun was completely gone.

Tooth awoke and let out a powerful yawn. “What happened?” She asked half asleep.

“You sort of dozed off there, Tooth,” said Jack who lost feeling in his crossed legs a couple hours ago, “and you kinda missed half the day.”

She shot up and hit her head on the ceiling. “Holy overbite, I nearly missed it! Jack, we got to go!”

A trail of blue and green feathers fell behind her with the speed Tooth flew with. Jack sighed flying at a much slower pace behind her.

There were a total of thirty houses and Tooth and Jack needed to visit. Even before entering the first one the pair had to wait for the child, Roberto, to fall asleep, which came later than expected. After a few hours or so, Tooth was finally able to retrieve the prized tooth she sought. Following Roberto, Tooth and Jack split up to cover the next row of teeth which weren’t far apart from each other. This time around Jack was well prepared with a bag of little trinkets he found tossed up on a tree; he swapped each tooth with a plastic figurine of a cowboy. The sickle moon moved to the center of the sky by the time Tooth and Jack had collected nearly all of the teeth, zipping across the entire city and even some in a city across a lake. Finally came the last three children, and by that time Jack wasn’t feel bored.

In a stroke of good luck, the last three children were in the same house, even in the same bed. Boy triplets on the same soccer team were probably the most beaten up; their front teeth were under their pillows in the same bedroom. Feeling the urge to show off, Tooth cracked her fingers in preparation. She swiped her hand which looked like a blur. While Jack was certain it moved too fast to have gotten the tooth, Tooth actually had all of the teeth they came to collect in the palm of her hand.

“How—did you—?” He stuttered.

“I’m really good at my job,” she grinned with her head held high in triumph. Jack was excitedly impressed.

The children slumbered without hearing the two in their room. Though there room showed the poor lives they lived the fluff of their pillow and the warmth of their small wool blankets cradled them in a gentle touch that left them feeling secure and snug. Tooth caressed her fingers on one of their sleeping faces like a mother.

“You were right Jack, I definitely needed this right now.”

“I thought you would. And for the most part I guess I had fun too. I can’t believe you do used to this every night before the Fairies came in.”

“I’ve always had my Fairies actually, they’ve been with me since I became a Guardian.”

Jack had an interest in this subject. “So how did you become a Guardian?”

Tooth led Jack out of the window and the two sat on top of the children’s roof. The sickle moon was brightly lit with a milk white light. While the summer months were plagued with rain and heat, the winter months in the country were neither hot nor cold, and without rainfall most of the time; above them a scattered school of clouds passed over the moon.

“All I remember about it was that I was born in a poor village, but that’s all. I was born with a problem: I couldn’t remember anything for more than a day.”

Jack was caught off guard.

“I didn’t remember my mother’s face the next morning. By the next day I forgot I had siblings. And on the third day I usually forget my own name. But the one thing I didn’t forget was helping the children of my village. Somehow I remembered their names everyday. Maybe that was why the Man on the Moon made me a Guardian.”

“He saw the love you gave to kids.” Jack remembered why he was chosen, he remembered his sister. “He picked me because he knew there was nothing I wouldn’t do to protect my sister.”

“The Man on the Moon knows more than we do, Jack.” Tooth sighed, rubbing her hands together solemnly. It wasn’t a memory she’d prefer to remember. “But all of us became a Guardian when our old lives were gone.”

“Did you—?” Jack guessed.

“Yes. All I remember was it was dark and I was afraid. But the Man on the Moon gave me light and he told me my name and what I was meant to do. Of course I love it, but I can’t help missing who I was.”

She leaned her head on Jack’s shoulder. Tears glistened like ice against the moonlight.

“I still don’t remember their names.”

Jack leaned his head over hers. The coolness of his skin reached for the moisture in her eyes and seemed to dry the teardrop with the cold. She never felt so safe with such a cold temperature hitting her warm body. He wrapped his arms around Tooth suddenly.

“They may not be the most ideal definition, but North, Sandy, even Bunny considers you a part of their family,” he whispered.

“What about you?” She whimpered.

“I don’t remember what families act like, but…all I know if I want to be there for you. And I never want to see you cry.”

Jack pulled away from her, and he held her hands in his. Compared to the rest of his body, Jack’s hands were warmer than the rest of him—at least they were as he held Tooth’s hands.

“When all that stuff was happening with Pitch, and I let you guys down, if hurt way more knowing that I let you down. I don’t ever want to make you sad.”

Tooth was moved into silence. Jack, realizing the weight of his words, turned away from her, unable to look her in the eyes from then on. She’d never seen Jack so flustered; it made her smile. With the collection of teeth in her possession, Tooth flapped her wings to get them ready for the flight back to the Palace.

“Well, I…uh…better be getting back. The Fairies are probably wondering where I ran off to,” she said.

“Oh right, forgot about them. Hopefully…we can hang out again?”

“I’d like that.”

Tooth leaned in and gave Jack a small kiss on the cheeks. It left him frozen as she flew away. Jack couldn’t see it, but Tooth was just as embarrassed as he was.

Jack didn’t move from that rooftop until morning.

#Rise of the Guardians #Jack Frost #Tooth Fairy #ROTG #fan fiction #fanfiction #writing #commission

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