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whxtedreams · 11 days

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Those damn puppy eyes

Inspired by rupi kaur poem

They should feel like home A place that grounds your life Where you go to take the day off - The one (the sun and her flowers - page 180)

word count: 1.5k

Pairing: neighbour!joel x reader

tags: sad!reader, reader just needs a hug, crying, comfort!, hurt & comfort, cuddles, soft kiss, mentions of love, rejection letter, joel miller (pedro) and his puppy eyes will be the death of me, two idiots in love, joel really loves cookies, joel is the king of comfort, soft!joel, photos are for aesthetic purposes only, reader has no description

A Poet's love masterlist - Main masterlist

Your feet are plastered to his front porch, your hands heavy as they hover at his door. You want to knock, to hear his footsteps beyond the door as they race towards you. You want to hear his voice as he calls out that he’s coming. You want to see the smile on his face when he realises that it’s you that’s standing before him.

What you don’t want is for him to see you in the state you’re in. You don’t want him to see your tear stained cheeks. The whites of your eyes strained red from the time spent crying on your couch. You don’t want him to feel your damp sleeves, where you’ve tried to wipe away the evidence of your own emotions.

Your chest burns, your eyes sting and your heart shattered.

But you want him.

What you wanted was to walk into his house like any other night, to hear Sarah upstairs listening to her music on full volume as Joel shoves a pre-made dinner in the oven with his headphones on, drowning out his daughter's music. You want to scare him as you wrap your arms around his middle while he has his back to you, feel him jump in your arms. Hear his huffed laugh as he turns around and kisses your forehead, telling you once again you’re going to give him a heart attack one of these days.

Tonight however there is no music playing in the house. There’s no pre-cooked dinner and there’s no possibility of a heart attack.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you reach for it, opening the text from Joel.

OMW home now darl. Sarah wanted to stick around and chat to her friends. Her team won tonight so shes a little high on adrenaline, get ready for her talking ur ear off tonight ;) bringing home pizza, cant wait to hear about ur day!

A tear slips down and lands on the screen and a soft sob rattles through your body. Of course he’s not home, how could you forget? Sarah had her semi finals tonight, she had been so excited about her first big game last night.

You shove your phone back in your pocket and walk the short distance back home, not wanting to ruin Sarah’s night.

Your phone buzzes again where it sits on the coffee table in your lounge room. The pillow you lay your head on is damp, your tears soaking the material as you lay in silence, your heart heavy. You know it’s Joel, wondering where you are but you don’t want to answer him.

The letter sits beside your phone. The letter you thought was your acceptance into the culinary school you applied to but turned into informing you they had declined your application.

Your front door opens and Joel’s voice fills the air, the sound of his boots shuffling on the doormat as he rids his shoes of any dirt before he enters your house. “Babe?” He calls out as he shuts the front door. “You get any of my texts? Got me all worried-” His words stop as his feet still in the doorway of the living room as he sighs.

He walks around the couch and gently lifts your legs off the couch before he sits down with a huff, placing your legs over his lap as he settles on the couch. His fingers run over your legs and he sits in silence as you sniffle into your pillow.

“The letter came today?” He asks after a moment, already knowing the answer and you nod without looking at him.

His hands still on your legs before they squeeze and you finally tilt your head to look at him. “No matter what they say, you know Sarah and I are always going to be proud of you. You’re amazing at what you do darl’, they’d be fools not to see that.”

You nod, a lopsided smile forming on your face before you sink back into the pillow. “I know, I just really wanted this.”

Joel leans over you then, pushing you slightly to fit behind you on the couch. His arms wrap around you as you shift to make room for him. His chin rests on your shoulder, his legs wrapping around yours and pulling you tight against him.

He pulls you close to him and wraps his strong arms around you, holding you tightly as the warmth of his touch sinks through you. You sink into him, your mind and body relaxing as his arms hold you close to his chest, the heat of his body surrounding and grounding you as the weight of the world seems to slowly lift off your shoulders. Your body shudders at the touch, as though he's somehow absorbing all of your negative emotions and easing the anxieties that lay heavy in your heart.

“I know you did and I’m so sorry baby. We’ll find you another school, yeah? Someone that appreciates your talents.” His mouth kisses your shoulder as he talks and your body relaxes, believing his words once more.

He always does this, always seems to know just what you need, just what will make you feel better, better than any medicine or solution or remedy could ever do. A simple touch is more than enough to calm your worry and soothe your anxieties, to remove all of your worries and fears and to convince you that everything will end up right, as it should be. A few words and a tender smile and you're able to believe in the things that he says, able to believe in the fact that everything will work itself out and that you have nothing to fear.

“I love you.” You sigh and you feel his body shake behind you, a soft chuckle in your ear.

"I love you too, darl," he says, his hand rising over your chest and landing just over your heart, your hand rising to meet his and interlocking your fingers with his. The warmth of his body is enough to overwhelm you, the love that you feel rising through you as you hold onto his hand and feel his touch on your chest, your hand gripping tightly as your heartbeat speeds up slightly at his touch.

You move your head and look in his eyes that glisten with adoration as he looks at you.

Those damn puppy eyes.

He leans in and lands a soft kiss on your lips, the gentleness of the kiss enough to make your breath catch in your throat, your hand tightening around his as all your thoughts and emotions flood from your mind at once. Every time he kisses you, it feels like perfection, as though your souls are meant to come together in this moment, two halves finding each other in the space and the time where they belong. He feels like home, wherever he is becomes safety and warmth and comfort that fills you from the inside to the outside and back again.

He leans back, breaking the kiss and leaning his body back as well. His grip doesn't let up, however, and he looks down at you with a warm smile, a look of genuine affection and care and tenderness on his face as he watches you. You never want to leave his embrace but your stomach aches from hunger and you smile back up at him.

“You mentioned pizza?”

He scoffs and shakes his head, pushing himself up from behind you, a mock offended look on his face and a slight pout that borders on the verge of a smile. "Oh, so you did get my texts?" His voice is light and playful, a tone that makes the pout of his mouth even more evident as he tilts his head to the side slightly, giving you a look of mock disappointment.

“I’m sorry, what can I do to make it up to you?” You ask as he pulls you up from the couch and pulls you right up against his side, his arm wrapping around you tightly as he pulls you close,

His smile turns wicked as his lips ghost over your ear. “I think you know exactly how to make up to me.”

Your smile mirrors his as your turn to face him once more.

“Chocolate chip cookies, right?”

His eyes close as he leans his head on your shoulder, a soft moan escaping his chest as his body relaxes. He leans his head back slightly, his eyes opening again, but his eyes are soft and warm as he looks at you, a fond smile on his face. "You know me so well," He whispers to you, the softness of his voice enough to make you melt into him as he holds you tight.

And you suppose that you do know him, that you know him as well as you can know the feeling of home. The warmth that you feel when you are with him, the comfort that spreads through you whenever he is close, all feels like home. He is home to you, the place where you feel as though you can let down your guard and be your true self, the place where you can take a deep breath and relax.

Because he’s the only one for you.

Notes

it's been over two months since i've updated this fic yikes im sorry. These two have my heart and i just want the best for them.

#joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #joel fanfic #joel x reader #tlou #tlou joel #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal

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lilgoblinbitch · 1 month

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The Archer Finds a Soulmate 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

girl dad!daryl dixon x fem!reader

a/n: this idea was offered by @yummymeee !! was trying to find fluffy daryl prompts and this one stuck with me.

summary: Daryl is a father of a young girl and has always had trouble trusting new people. When he meets you, everything changes.

warnings: none really, typical twd stuff, just some angst and fluff at the end :)

Daryl Dixon was left raising a child in the apocalypse. He didn't expect to find himself taking care of a baby all by himself after the mother of his child ended up hiding it from him, and on her death bed begging Daryl to keep the baby safe. Of course, Daryl would love his baby girl till the day he died. She was the light of his life. She was the only thing left in this cruel world that reminded him of what made life worth living.

Five years after the start of the apocalypse, Daryl was extremely lucky to have been part of a large community that actually showed not only him, but his little girl, charity and companionship. All he wished for was a safe home and chance for his daughter to grow up happy. Because he never got to have a happy childhood himself, it almost felt imperative for him to manifest his own happiness and prosperity by giving his own kid that opportunity.

"Jasmine! Get outta that pile'a crap and c'mere!"

The five-year-old girl lay on her back in mound of dirt and leaves, swishing her arms and legs back and forth. "Daddy, look! I'm making a dirt angel!"

Daryl scoffed as he peered over at his daughter, who was collecting bits of leaves and sticks and dirt in her hair and probably covering every inch of the fabric of her outfit. An outfit that Carol had recently washed, because it originally got stained with orange juice and pudding. Unfortunately little predicaments like that were bound to happen to any little kid. It didn't bother Daryl, he just didn't want to put more of a burden on Carol.

Daryl stood up from the log he was sitting on, setting the dead rabbit he was working on skinning to the side. "Jas! Ya want food or not?" He called out, waving the playful child over to him. She perked her head up at him, her dark curly hair now decorated with bits of colorful leaves and sticks, almost making her hair look like a Christmas tree in some way. The child obeyed and jumped up from the ground, shaking off the dirt that layered her clothing. And of course, they needed to be washed again.

Joining her father by the fire, Jasmine plopped down on the log across from him and simpered at him. He smiled back after examining her youthful grin and spotting the smeared dirt on her face. "Ya got dirt on yer face, silly girl. Here, wipe yer hands and face with this." He handed her a towel, one that was adorned with pink and purple flowers. She loved that little beach towel. She snatched it out of her father's hands and hastily rubbed it all over her face and hands, then tossing it on the ground. Daryl sighed in distress.

"How many more things of yers we gotta ask Carol to wash?"

"We're outside, daddy. There is dirt, and you say dirt makes us dirty. So it's got to make everything else dirty, right?" Her enthusiasm never failed to make him grin and forget what he was even upset at her about.

"A'ight, watch me, ready?" Daryl grabbed the dead rabbit and continued skinning it, making sure Jasmine was watching him. Her face contorted in disgust.

"I don't wanna do that, daddy! It's gross and it hurts the rabbit."

He ignored her complaining and continued skinning it. "It's dead already. Didn't feel any pain, I promise," he reassured the child. "I just needed to show ya how yer dad makes yer all-time favorite food: rabbit stew."

The little girl shook her head. "No, my favorite food is Carol's cookies, and the Kingdom's cobbler!"

Daryl rolled his eyes, finishing up skinning the rabbit and then sticking it on a stick and placing it over the fire. Throughout their meal, Daryl told her about the time he first ever had to eat rabbit, and how he was around her age. His daughter was always absolutely thrilled to hear stories, especially from her father. She admired him more than he realized. And she looked forward to every Thursday afternoon, because that's when Daryl took her out for walks in the woods, pointing out various plants and showing her how to differentiate between animal tracks and walker tracks. Of course, she was too young to fully understand everything he taught her, but it made him more comfortable knowing that she was learning early on.

Some nights Daryl lay awake, tossing and turning only to say "fuck it" and go out in the woods where he could ease his mind, while his daughter was already fast asleep in the room across the hall. He loved being alone in the woods; just him and no one else to disturb him for a few hours.

However, one night he ended up acquiring company from an unexpected individual: you. Daryl didn't know very much about you, besides the fact that you joined Alexandria not too long after he and his group did. You were quiet and reserved, always keeping to yourself and never being found in large crowds because you were always more content when alone. Daryl often found himself following you into the woods to see what you even did out there, but you were just too quick to spy on. And truthfully, you were afraid of Daryl. You had seen how similar he was to you in some ways; his love for nature and serenity and the comfort of being isolated from the loudness of the community you lived in. You observed him going into the woods and not coming back out for hours, just as you did. He ended up becoming a valued member of Alexandria as he helped Aaron recruit new members to the community. He was becoming more outspoken than you, and that seemed to make you nervous.

Tonight, curiosity got the best of you and you decided to go and see what it was that Daryl the archer father did late at night in the woods, all alone.

Daryl did not anticipate anyone to be as good of a tracker as he was, especially in the dark of night. But being the daughter of a hunter father ended up advantaging you with that skill. So when he heard footsteps and prepared to send an arrow flying and landing between the eyes of a walker, but ended up being face to face with you, he was surprised to say the least.

"Hey, um, Daryl right?" Your flashlight beamed onto his face, and he squinted. "Sorry," you turned it off and shoved it in your pocket, "I just, um...I always see you out here, and I'm always out here, so..."

"So what?" Daryl wasn't in the mood for visitors, especially not annoyingly beautiful women such as yourself. You made him nervous.

Daryl kicked the dirt around with his feet, not looking up at you as you continued to speak to him. "Look, I'm not really a people person, and you probably want nothing to do with me because I never talked to you before...but I–" you stopped to look down at the dirt and shuffle your feet in it as well, involuntarily mimicking Daryl. "I dunno, I just need a friend, I think."

You could feel Daryl's eyes on you now, the glow of the small fire illuminating his auburn hair and the specks of hair on his beard. You swallowed hard, becoming a nervous wreck under his hard gaze. "Why me?" Was all he managed to say after studying your face. You finally made eye contact with him after mustering up the courage to do so. He had pretty eyes.

"Because I think we're alike in a lot of ways." You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and leaned against the thick tree beside you. "And honestly, you're one of the only people I know of that has better tracking skills than me," you added, voice soft and unsure. Unsure of what the mysterious man in front of you was thinking. It seemed like he had so much going on in his head all the time, and that's because he did. His thoughts raced, thoughts about you and how pretty you looked under the sparkling fire and why the hell you were talking to a loser single dad like him.

But you didn't see him like that. You were intimidated by him – always have been, except this time he intimidated you in a way you never expected. He made you want to open up to him, because you could tell now that he was just like you. You went your whole life never wanting to be seen by anyone, but Daryl changed that.

Daryl's lack of words left you in your thoughts once again. What if that was his sign for you to scram? What if he hated you? What if he thought you were a fucking creep for sneaking up on him in the middle of the night in the woods? You couldn't handle the fear of rejection so you took matters into your own hands.

Sighing in defeat, you turned on your heal and started for the other direction back to Alexandria, until you were abruptly stopped in your tracks.

"Wait."

Daryl did not wish for you to leave. He believed you. You were like him. "Ya wanna come hunting?"

Your eyes lit up in elation, and you smiled at him. "Yeah, I'd love to."

After a only a few weeks, you and Daryl became friends. He properly introduced you to his daughter Jasmine, who when meeting you for the first time told you, "You're pretty!" It melted your heart. Yours and Daryl's friendship grew drastically from then on. You respected him a lot, as he did you. The two of you were able to teach each other things about nature and hunting that the other had no clue about; you taught Daryl which herbs were best for different things, and he taught you how to shoot with a crossbow. Of course, your bow and arrow and your dagger were just enough for you already, but it pleased you to know that Daryl actually wanted to teach you.

Soon enough it was evident that you and Daryl were growing a deeper connection than the two of you originally anticipated. But somehow you weren't scared of it. You felt content around him, and it was clear that he felt that way about you, too.

"Jasmine!" Daryl called out, frantically searching the woods for his pesky little daughter. The sun was setting over the tree line ahead of him, clouds painted orange and pink. It was going to be dark soon, and he had no idea where his daughter had run off to.

Daryl found his feet moving on their own, eyes shifting around his surroundings while he attempted to track the footsteps of his daughter. "Jas! C'mon let's go!" Suddenly the sound of a twig snapping filled the air. His heartbeat quickened, and his paternal instincts kicked in. He raced toward the sound, crossbow at the ready.

He was just about ready to shoot whatever was hiding behind the tree but when he saw you walking with Jasmine he stopped in his tracks, lowering his weapon. You and Jasmine both glanced up at him simultaneously, and the little girl ran up to her father and hugged him. A sigh of relief overcame him as he bent down to hug her back. You beamed down at the two of them, admiring how touching the sight was.

"Where were ya?" Daryl stood back up, moving his focus between both you and his daughter. You could tell he was trying his hardest to stay calm, but the fact that his daughter was running off in the woods without him made him feel uneasy and on edge.

"Don't worry, I found her by a stream back there. She told me she wanted to learn how to catch frogs," you reassured him. He grinned and looked down at the girl, who was carrying a red bucket full of croaking amphibians.

"Look how many I caught, daddy!" She lifted the bucket up to Daryl and he peered into it. "Well someone's a professional frog catcher now, ey?" He teased.

The three of you reached the gates and Jasmine hurriedly ran down the street to the other kids outside. You smiled and turned to Daryl, who was already staring at you. You blushed and looked down at your feet.

"Sorry, I should have told you she was with me. She just seemed so excited and I couldn't say no, so–"

"Nah. Don't need to apologize," he interrupted, reaching his hand up to brush a strand of hair out of his face. "I, uh, thank you, fer watchin' her."

A gentle breeze drifted through your hair and you brushed stray strands out of your face, all the while Daryl shifted his weight and gathered the pith to express his feelings at that moment. He needed to get it off his chest.

Your doe eyes only impelled him further.

"Uh..." his anxious eyes finally met your passionate ones. "I think Jas might enjoy having ya over fer dinner t'night."

This time you tittered, nodding your head enthusiastically. "If this is your way of wanting more of my company, just say it, Daryl." Your face muscles seriously ached from smiling so hard. "I... I like you. And I would love to come over, honestly, any time."

Daryl's face flushed a shade of pink you'd never seen on him before. It made you giddy. "I like ya too."

That moment felt so cliche – it felt like you and Daryl were part of a silly teenage romcom film. But you two earned that cliche moment. You were surprisingly capable of harvesting a healthy connection with someone who really meant a lot to you.

The magnetic pull between the two of you grew stronger and stronger, reeling your body closer to his. Your hand instinctively brushed against his, making Daryl's insides mushy.

A smirk ran across yours lips and you grabbed Daryl's hand firmly. "C'mon, let's go make some food for tonight."

That evening you cooked venison stew for Daryl and his daughter, by gratitude of the huge buck Daryl scored earlier that morning. Secretly you loved to cook, but you'd only ever cook for someone who was special to you; back in the day you'd always cook for your father after he'd go out hunting and bring back game that gave you an opportunity to create a mouth-watering recipe. Today, that special someone was Daryl. You truly believed he deserved a decent meal from you after everything he'd done for you. He won your trust and respect – even more so your love.

"Thank you."

Daryl was sprawled out on the couch, staring up at you as you had finished cleaning up the dishes. He had already tucked Jasmine into bed up stairs, afterward coming back down to gawk at you.

You wiped your hands on a towel and set it on the counter, turning your attention the the comfortable man on the couch. "No need to thank me. I wanted to cook for you." You joined him on the couch, drowning in the soft cushion and taking in the homey vibe of his living room.

He sat up, turning his body toward you. That expression was painted on his face again – the one that told you he was doubting himself, or that he was trying really hard to articulate his emotions. You took his hands in yours, a decision that caught Daryl by surprise. "You don't need to doubt yourself anymore. I know what you're feeling, trust me."

Your reassurance kindled the spark of courage Daryl so desperately needed. It was as if you were his god, his creator – the one to send him the message from the sky to tell him it was his time to listen to his heart. And so he did.

The archer's rough, calloused fingers traced shapes over the dry skin of your hands. Your gaze melted him like plastic by the fire, and the words your spoke to him spilled from your lips like a prayer.

"Kiss me, Daryl."

Carefully Daryl parted his lips while searching your face for any uncertainties; there were none. And so he kissed you. He kissed you like you were a porcelain doll, suppressing his strength as to not break you. He wanted this kiss to last forever, and so did you.

Daryl trusted his gut that you were the one for him, and boy was that the best decision he ever made right there and then.

#the walking dead #daryl dixon #twd #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon oneshot #twd daryl #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x female reader #soft girl dad daryl dixon 🥹#angsty romantic daryl dixon #goblin writes #daryl dixon angst #dad!daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixion imagine #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon x fem!reader

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roguerogerss · 4 months

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snow lands on top

pairing: coriolanus snow x covey reader

w/c: 3.2k

warnings: just fluff! a few sexual comments but nothing more, mentions of family deaths, reader is just a poor lil soul

(merry christmas my angels! if you’re having a hard time, i feel you! here’s some soft coryo lovin to help you through it. the holidays r a hard time for so so many people, and my inbox will always be open to anyone who needs someone who’ll understand <3 luv you the most, we’ll get through it all)

Christmas Eve. The soft patter of snowfall, the breeze from your half open window, the bustle of the Corso below. You'd been listening to the Christmas shoppers - stressed or unbothered - the kids playing in the snow, mothers and fathers dragging their children to holiday themed events. Laying around in bed all day in old silk had become your go-to on the run-up to Christmas.

You’d come to hate snowfall. It meant the sounds of merry families, playing outside together. It meant mourning for when you could do that, it meant resenting others, something that the Covey would never want for you.

Christmas was bittersweet. It had been for years, now. No gifts under your small, sad Christmas tree, no family gathering, no over-the-top dinner event, sometimes no dinner at all. You lived alone, in your little apartment which you could hardly afford, and had no family left since the war.

You remembered the good times, of course, that was the 'sweet' in all of the bitter. Remembering your mother's baking and the smell of sugar cookies and Christmas cake. The lavish real evergreen tree that made the ridiculously high ceilings of your apartment look low. The gifts, the dinner, curling up with a mug of hot milk on the plush sofa. You even thought of your Christmases back in District twelve. Never too fancy, never too many gifts, but a family, the Covey, music, a home.

Life after the war had been cruel to you. What once was a young girl, with a family wealthy enough to move her to the Capitol, had become a young woman with no one to turn to, and not a penny to her name. You didn't have the luxury of pretending like everything was fine, like you had your family's riches to fall back on. Everyone at the Academy had found out when you'd had to ask for a scholarship loan to pay for your tuition, one which you'd never be able to pay back.

That was something you'd always envied of a particular classmate of yours. Coriolanus Snow. Crassus Snow's baby boy. You knew he must've been penniless, as poor as a church mouse. But maybe you only knew that because your own circumstances were much the same. Coriolanus was smart about it, always looking classy from an outside perspective, never asking for money, never acting hungry. But, when looked into closer, you could easily see cracks.

His shoes were the same ones he'd had since first year at the Academy, and they must've been achingly too small for him. He'd eat only small amounts at school and pretend he was full up, but you'd seen him once, with no shirt on, and his ribs stuck out like a sore thumb. Wherever there was an academic prize that involved money, he was always trying his hardest to win, pulling out every stop, but if there was no monetary prize, he'd only do half as much.

You saw right through his act, always had, but instead of exposing him to everyone else out of jealousy, you'd helped him out whenever you could. Us poor orphans have to stick together, right?

You'd share food, give eachother your spare trolley tokens so you wouldn't have to walk the hour back to the Corso, discuss strategy over how to win said academic prizes, and split them with eachother when you did.

You'd become close friends, over the years, even although it was kept strictly as a secret from all of your other classmates. And so, when you heard a familiar voice floating in through your window, you smiled to yourself.

"Y/N?" You could only faintly hear him calling from the street, but you started up from your bed and yanked the window open fully so that you could hang out of it.

There he was, Coriolanus Snow, in all of his glory. Blonde curls full of white snowflakes, wrapped in what seemed to be a ratty fur coat, chittering away. You laughed when you saw him. "Coryo, what are you doing out? You'll freeze to death!"

"Wanted to come and make sure you were okay." He called back, and then looked around warily, almost as though he was checking the coast was clear before asking, "Can I come up?"

You nodded, "I'll buzz you in." And then you swiftly closed the window. Goosebumps had raised on your arms and chest and you'd be paying for the next year if you had to put the furnace on.

You crossed to your bedroom door, made your way down the hall, and pressed the buzzer, which always made the most abhorrent sound when it let whoever was outside, in.

You waited by the door, and soon enough, Coryo was coming bounding up the stairs, fur coat now in his hand, nose and cheeks bright red. You let him in and laughed as you took his coat from him and hung it up. "It's Tigris'. I don't have anything warm enough, but it's the rattiest old thing I've ever seen."

"It's quite something." You turned back to see him shivering, arms folded around his body to try to warm himself. "Oh, you poor lamb."

Your Covey accent had never faded. The Capitol had always looked down upon you for it, but Coryo blushed every time you spoke. "I'm fine, I'll be fine."

"But it's freezing in here, too. Come here." You opened the small cupboard in the hallway, which held a few random seasonal items, and pulled out two, old blankets. You smiled at Coriolanus as you draped one around his shoulders, and he smiled back, close enough to you that his breath was hitting your cheek.

"Thank you, honey." Coriolanus' eyes scanned your apartment, peering through the living room door and then your bedroom door, and he frowned when he saw just one Christmas decoration - your tiny little tree. His family was poor, but Tigris was creative, and they still managed to uphold some joy in the form of tinsel and stockings at Christmas time.

"What?" Your face dropped and you looked worried, placing a tender hand on Coryo's blanket-clad shoulder. "You look so sad."

"You just..." Coryo's voice trailed off, unsure of how to say what he meant without hurting, or offending you. "I mean, you don't have too much, do you?"

"Well, I thought you knew that." A crease had appeared between your brows and you sounded upset with him, dropping your hand from where it had previously sat. Coryo corrected himself quickly, shaking his head at you.

"No, I'm sorry, that came out wrong." He racked his brain for something to say that would make you feel better. The look on your face made his chest sting. "I don't know, would you want to spend Christmas with us?"

You cocked your head to the side, looking at him as though he was going insane. Maybe he was, he wasn't even sure what he was saying. He closed his eyes and ran and hand over his face, which brightened you up a bit. You laughed, and he laughed, and he felt his shoulders relax. Why was he so nervous? He never got nervous, not like this, anyway.

"We don't have much either, but it'd mean you weren't alone. I know how you feel, especially at this time of year." Coryo noticed the slight tinge of pink that had dawned your cheeks, and, on a whim, he reached out and, with two freezing fingers, tilted your head back so that you were looking at him. "You could come to our house, Tigris makes bread pudding, and we managed to get some beef mince this year, too. Maybe you could even sleep over tonight, and we could wake up together-"

"Coryo, you're rambling." You stopped him, you knew he could go on for hours, and, although the offer was tempting, and you enjoyed the idea of spending even more time around Coryo, you planned on turning him down. "Thank you. That sounds lovely, but I'd never want to intrude. No, the Covey wrote me to let me know they've installed a telephone in the town hall, I can call them for a couple minutes tomorrow, lift my spirits. I'll be fine."

You waved him off, and pulled your mother's old silk robe tighter around your body. You started towards the living room door, expecting Coryo to follow, maybe you'd sit together on the flaky sofa and talk for a few hours, but he didn't let you get far. He snatched your hand from your side, and when you turned to look at him, his blue eyes were filled with concern.

"Call them from our house." He wasn't going to let you off without a yes. "Please. I can't leave you alone, that's not fair. Plus, I've always wanted to meet them, haven't I?"

You took a breath and adjusted your hand in his. It felt nice, to have him be so affectionate. You could admit you were closer than most friends, the line between friendship and love always slightly blurred and maybe crossed over on more than one occasion, but it always felt good to have him near.

After careful consideration, and a few reassuring rubs at the back of your hand from Coryo, you finally gave in. "Are you sure? I don't mean to be a pain-"

"You're not. You could never be." He stepped closer and took your other hand, close enough to you that, if he leaned forward, your foreheads would be touching. "Honest, Tigris will be happy to have someone other than Grandma'am."

"And what about Grandma'am? I'm District, I don't think she'll like that-"

"She respects your family. It's not the right way, I know, but there are very few district people she doesn't mind. She knew your parents, always says they were very respectable people." A grimace crossed Coryo’s face, talking about his Grandma’am’s views in front of you. He’d agreed with her for most of his life, but that was until he met you, and that Covey accent finally made snow melt and changed his mind.

"Really?" Your face had lit up. The idea of anyone from the Capitol accepting you, no, respecting you, was something you’d only ever dreamt of.

"Really." Coryo smiled, now, and then he joked, “What an honour, huh? To have Grandma'am like you."

"An honour, indeed." You laughed. You let go of one of his hands, but kept hold of the other. You started to drag him with you towards your bedroom, but Coryo stayed put, confused. He’d never been inside your bedroom, he assumed it was off limits. You laughed at him, “I’m not trying to get you into bed, darlin’, if I was you’d know about it.”

His face turned a deep shade of red and you approached him and placed a gentle hand on his cheek. “Coryo, I’m messin’. I’m just going to pack a bag, you can come if you like, but if I’m making you uncomfortable you’re welcome to sit in the living room.”

“No. Oh, no. You’re not making me uncomfortable.” Coryo let you lead him to your bedroom, now, and he looked around the almost bare room as though it was a place of worship. There was hardly anything in there, a mattress on the floor, a small, oil lamp positioned next to it. A couple of books, a wardrobe which held your school uniform and your mother’s old performance dresses, which you wore every day you could. He was just happy to be somewhere so intimate, somewhere you allowed only the closest people in your life. “Sorry.”

You got that cheeky look on your face, now. The one that Coryo loved so much. “It’s okay. I know you’re a virgin, anyway-”

“Hey!” He smacked you with the blanket and you giggled and smacked him back. “That’s none of your business.”

“Oh, but it’s obvious.”

The walk to Coriolanus’ apartment wasn’t long, but it felt different. You’d never made it obvious that you were close, before, but you walked together, through the snow, chatting away like you’d been best friends for years - which was the case, and now people knew. Even when you passed classmates or their families, you’d both smile and wave, and it felt good to know that people would know.

“Are you excited to meet Grandma’am?” Coryo joked. Your cheeks balled when you laughed and gripped onto his hand in an overdramatic way. Coryo thought his heart might’ve burst.

You bounded forward, still holding his hand, and walked backwards in front of him. “Oh, the most excited. I’m sure she’s got great gossip.”

“Only the best. Did you know she had a fling with the President’s brother when they were in school?” Coryo whispered dramatically, and you gave him an equally as theatrical gasp.

“I hope she’ll tell me all about it.”

You arrived at the apartment cold but happy, noses bright red but laughing. Fingers freezing but locked together. You felt pure joy for the first time in a long time, and Coryo decided he could get used to this.

When Tigris opened the door, you knew this was the right decision. Her face lit up, and she clapped her hands together excitedly as soon as she saw you. She didn’t even bother to greet Coriolanus, just started straight for you, “Oh my! It’s so lovely to see you. Please tell me you’re staying for Christmas!”

“I sure am. Coryo managed to convince me.” You looked up to the boy stood beside you, who’d already been smiling down at you with such love in his eyes.

“Well, we are so happy to have you. Lucky to have you.” Tigris squeezed your shoulder and then stepped to the side, gesturing to both of you. “Come in, please.”

You could’ve sobbed, the feeling of being wanted, not being alone. Coryo touched a comforting hand to your arm as you stepped into the foyer, once grand, but now cracked and tired. Tigris took your coat, and the Grandma’am greeted you with open arms.

“Your dress is beautiful.” Tigris commented, and you did a quick twirl to show off the lace-up detail in the back.

“Thank you, it was my mama’s. I try to wear her dresses whenever I can.” You smoothed the ruffles of your dress, looking down lovingly at the shades of green tulle, handmade by your mother herself.

“And so you should.” Tigris reached out to touch your ruffles, too, and she smiled at you as she did so. “She had great taste.”

Coryo led you through to his bedroom, to let you drop your bag off and familiarise yourself with the place. “Thank you.” You muttered as you placed your bag on his windowsill. “For letting me come here, letting me stay. Your family are just beautiful.”

“Yeah, they’re great.” Coryo stood from his bed to join you as you looked out of his window onto the snow covered Corso, at a fresh snow angel and a family you could hear laughing from the penthouse. “I’m sure the Covey are, too. And your parents.”

“My parents were. And the Covey are. I hope one day, you can meet them.” You turned to him, that crease in your brow back.

“I’d love to.” Coryo took hold of your hand, noticing that you’d taken up an unsettled look. “Should we get some air? Grandma’am keeps roses on the roof, might be nice to see them in the snow.”

You nodded. “Yeah. That’d be nice.”

The roof was nice, you could see the entirety of the Capitol from up there - roofs engulfed in white, and the snow-covered roses were such a beautiful sight. You plucked one of the stems, after Coryo said you could, and simply stared at the thing. Back home, flowers were everywhere, they felt like warm hugs, like trips to the lake, like your mama. It was rare that you saw them growing in the Capitol.

“It’s beautiful up here.” You commented as you took a seat at the edge of the rooftop. “You can see the whole city.”

“It is beautiful.” Coryo sat next to you, shoulders touching, pinky fingers travelling closer to eachother and then pulling back, looking forward but watching eachother out of the corner of your eyes. “You’re beautiful.”

Coryo had let it slip, and he took in a deep breath and held it for a while after speaking. You tried not to let your smile get too wide, worried it would border on psychotic-looking if you let it reach it’s full potential. Beautiful, Coriolanus Snow called you beautiful.

“Oh.” Was all you could say, quietly, only loud enough to be picked up by the soft breeze and carried over to Coriolanus. “Thank you, Coryo. I think you’re beautiful.”

Coriolanus looked down and laughed, shaking his head at you. You let your pinkies intertwine, now. “You’re just saying that because I said it.”

“I mean it. Anyone would be stupid not to think it.” Then all of your fingers were locked together. And you sighed and let your head fall onto Coryo’s shoulder. He smiled to himself, and then, in a quick surge of confidence, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head and decided to speak his mind.

“You know I love you, right?" He blurted out. He didn’t regret it, but he was nervous, now. If he’d learned anything this Christmas Eve, it was that you made him nervous.

"I know." You closed your eyes and breathed in the cold air, “I love you, too."

"But I mean, really love you." Coryo took his hand from yours and, instead, draped his arm around your back, fingers reaching up to fidget with your hair. “You're very easy to fall in love with."

"Hm." You hummed and removed your head from his shoulder to look up at him. Your cheeks were flushed and your breath made little clouds in between your two faces. “I think you're very easy to fall in love with, too, Coryo."

You were so close, noses touching, Coryo’s hand still twirling one lock of your hair around and around. And then your lips were on his, his hand gripping the back of your neck, kissing you with a hunger, a passion, you’d never felt before. Not feverishly, not sexual in nature, just real, raw passion. You’d meant what you said. Coriolanus Snow was incredibly easy to love, and you did. You loved him. And he loved you. Nothing else had ever seemed to simple in your entire life.

Coryo couldn’t imagine a world, now, where your lips hadn’t been on his. Where you hadn’t called him beautiful. He was on a high, an all time high, he was convinced. Snow lands on top.

The snowflakes continued falling, landing on your heads, noses, the roses. And you let them, with no resentment, no upset. Because Coryo was there, everything was easy, now.

#coriolanus snow x reader #coryo x reader #coryo snow x reader #coryo snow #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow #the hunger games ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus snow x covey!reader

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huggybearhughes43 · 2 months

Note

I need a Gabe Perreault imagine. Idc what it's about I just need a Gabe fic.

Cookies?

‼️all credit to @ghostfacd for this idea‼️

Summary: You and Gabe have been fwb since the beginning of college. You mention your mom’s famous cookies that you were helping with over text and he can’t help but rush over to your house.

Warnings: suggestive but no smut (surprise), kissing, Gabe is definitely joking through most of this, L bomb (he wasn’t joking abt that) 😇😇

Word count: I forgot to put a counter 🤭

As I finish putting in the second batch of cookies my phone chimes with a notification. I clean my hands then look-

*three notifications from “Gabe 🤓”*

I smile and open the messages, having time to text him back as my mom mixed the ingredients for the next batch.

Gabe 🤓: watcha up to?

Gabe 🤓: helloooo?

Gabe 🤓: fine Ykw? I’ll find another best friend to fuck 😇

I roll my eyes at my phone before replying.

Me: you know damn well you have no game

Me: I’m making cookies with my mom

Gabe 🤓: cookies? Like your mom’s famous cookies? I’m coming over

I put down my phone and shake my head at the last message. My mom hands me the bowl to lay out the cookies on the parchment. “Hey mom,” I look at her, “Gabe’s coming over if you don’t mind… he’s crazy for these cookies.” I laugh and shake my head. She smiles, soft wrinkles forming around her eyes, “oh he’s welcome whenever he wants, he’s a good kid.”. I laugh and agree.

I put the batch in the oven and my mom starts mixing her last batch of cookies. About five minutes later the doorbell rings. I walk the door, shaking my head before opening it. I smile seeing Gabe’s huge grin but before I can say anything he pushes past me and into the kitchen. “How’s my favorite lady?” He practically skips up to my mom and hugs her softly. I laugh and close the door, rolling my eyes at his dumb but funny actions.

“Yeah it’s good to see you too.” I smile, shaking my head as I enter the kitchen. Before Gabe can reply to me my mom sticks a spoonful of cookie batter in his mouth. I cover my mouth to suppress a laugh. “How does that taste? Does it need more vanilla?” She asks in a Boston accent. He swallows the cookie dough and wipes his lip before shaking his head. “Perfect” he mumbles with a nod. She smiles and hands me the bowl again.

I begin to line up pan with cooking spray when I feel gentle arms hug me from behind and a chin rest on my shoulder. I scoop some dough and place it on the pan, using my thumb to make sure it’s the right shape. “You know I was joking right?” He whispers softly into my ear. “Hm?” I assumed he was talking about my mom being his favorite over me. He smiles into my neck “I could never find another best friend to fuck.”. I snort out a laugh at his words. “And no it’s not because I have no game.” He rolls his eyes with a smile as I giggle. “It’s mostly because you have no game.”

I finish scooping the dough onto the pan. My thumb that I was using to shape the cookies were covered in remanence of the dough. I look over my shoulder at Gabe and bring my thumb to his face. I was only half joking, not expecting him to actually do what I was thinking of but he does. He wraps his lips around my thumb and sucks the dough off. I drop my hand down to my side and shake my head. “You’re so gross” I laugh. He smiles and kisses my shoulder “what can I say? It tastes good.” He shrugs. I shrug him off of me and he backs up. I look at him and smile “wow, would you look at that, now it’s your job to put the cookies on the oven.” He scrunches his nose at me and grabs the tray and puts it in the oven.

I make my way into my living room and sit down on the couch before turning the tv onto a random show. Gabe comes in after he was done in the kitchen and crawls on top of me and lays all his weight on me. I gasp and laugh as he lays his head on my chest, watching the tv. “Jesus, Gabe, you trynna crush me?” I furrow my brows at him and run a hand through his curls. “You’ll be okay” he smiles and looks up at me, his chin now resting on my chest.

“You know, I didn’t just come for your mom’s cookies.”

“Yeah? Beats me, you’re more passionate about those cookies than hockey, and that’s saying a lot”

Gabe smiles softly and stares at me for a bit too long before speaking

“I might love those cookies, but I love you more, promise”

He leans up and presses a soft kiss to my mouth, pulling away with a huge shit eating grin.

“If you think you’re getting in my pants tonight, you’re delusional”

“Worth a shot”

He shrugs and lays back down on my chest. I smile and think for a moment, my hand still running through his hair.

“I love you too”

I whisper and I feel him smile against my chest, silence falls between us until the oven dings, signaling that the cookies were done and he was up and running into the kitchen, causing me to laugh, not even caring to suppress it with my hand.

~~~~~~~

Ohhhh this was cute, I love Gabe

#nhl #hockey #boston college #new york rangers #gabe perreault #fwb #cookies #Gabe is the loml (real) (confirmed)

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bibuddie · 1 year

Text

...so i wrote a coda.

Being with Natalia...is great, in a lot of ways.

For the first time in a long while, Buck really feels like he can breathe. The weight that's been sitting on his chest threatening to consume him whole ever since his heart stopped has all but disappeared, and his laughter comes a lot easier with Natalia. She's gorgeous and intelligent and knows all of Buck's flaws and ugly parts and loves him anyway. She's everything Buck could've ever dreamed of, but—

But.

There's something niggling away at the back of Buck's brain, a buzz he can't quite seem to quiet. It started the day after the freeway collapse, delivering Kameron's (his) baby on his couch, holding Kameron's (his) son in his arms for the first time. Looking at this baby, it stung. Because it was his, but not in any way that mattered. He wouldn't be helping him make cookies for a bake sale, he wouldn't be the one he ran to when he was sad or scared, he'd never take him to the pier. He'd just be...Buck.

He expected it to hurt more, though.

It's about a week later that he picks out a new couch, Natalia raving about how well the colour scheme matches his apartment. And she's not wrong is the thing. It's a dark chocolate brown three piece, and he has a blanket that sits beautifully over the top. It's long enough that he can stretch out fully, Natalia laying between his legs, her head pillowed on his chest as they watch reruns of FRIENDS for the umpteenth time. It's comfortable and it fits into the space perfectly and Buck thinks he should feel content, finally. But it just always feels like something's missing.

His new couch is comfortable, and it's warm and he can see himself holding onto it for a long time. But Los Angeles gets unreasonably hot, is the thing. And the leather sticks to the back of his knees in a way that makes his stomach turn, and when the light from the window hits it it makes it uncomfortable to sit on. It's just...not right. Not for him, anyways.

Buck already has a replacement in mind. He sees a blue, velvet effect couch. Still three seats. Some of the fabric is coming apart a little at the seams and the seats are well worn and maybe, one of the cushions has butter stains from popcorn from a jumpscare during movie nights. The couch he has in mind has already lived a life before it comes to him, it's been well loved and has seen both good times and bad and yet Buck knows in his heart of hearts that he'll love it regardless.

Buck knows this time, he's not picking the wrong couch.

#911 spoilers #911 #buddie #buddie fic #rebecca writes

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messier51 · 3 months

Note

In reference to your tags on the food that makes life worth living post - what are chicken squares???

They're kind of like chicken salad sandwiches but wrapped up and baked in crescent roll dough.

They are very delicious.

[image description: four baked chicken squares still on the pan. they aren't very square but the crescent roll dough is nicely browned and they're covered in browned stuffing bits]

At the risk of sounding like a food blogger, these are the food that I'd ask for when given a choice for my birthday. These are kind of an ultimate comfort food nostalgia thing for me. I use an altered version of my grandma's recipe (I measure with my heart, I am so sorry gramma but it turns out just fine this way, and no extra mushrooms) which is below vvvv. There IS a recipe online, on the Official Pillsbury Website (https://www.pillsbury.com/recipes/savory-crescent-chicken-squares/) from one of their contests. The name on the recipe is not my grandma, but the location is not far from where she lived. My grandma's recipe is better (obviously) but they're very similar and the version at the link is half the size if you want to try it but don't want to do math or something.

Part of the reason for making the full 8-sandwich version from my grandma's recipe is that it uses a full modern 8oz package of cream cheese (instead of the 3oz version that used to be common I guess?), and then you do not put the other half back in your fridge and forget about it until it gets moldy. If that's too much food, the chicken squares freeze really well! Just bake them for slightly shorter (I do it about 20 minutes) and then stick them in a freezer bag in the freezer until you want to eat them. They just need to be re-baked!

Chicken Squares Recipe (from aj's grandma)

Filling:

1 8oz package of softened cream cheese

1/2 stick butter (that's 1/4 cup) (recipe says "or margarine" lol) melted (you use the other half of it below)

4 cups cooked cubed chicken (this can be approximate. One rotisserie chicken or so. Leftover turkey works great! Canned chicken would probably be good too. My sister does hers with mushrooms for vegetarian reasons but I have no clue how to do that. You can adjust this though! It's super forgiving.)

1/2 tsp salt

1/4 tsp pepper

4 Tbsp milk (that's 1/4 cup)

4 Tbsp lemon juice

3 Tbsp chopped chives or onion. (Or like, as much as you want. If you like onion, more onion is really good in this. I have used half a large onion, a whole bundle of green onions, whatever looks good. 3 Tbsp is not enough imo, but if you're not into onions, then maybe ignore me)

2 8oz cans of refrigerated crescent rolls.

Sauce:

1 can chicken broth

2 cans cream of mushroom and/or cream of chicken soup

1 pint cream, half and half, or milk

sauteed fresh or canned mushrooms

Topping:

Pepperidge Farm Herb Seasoned Dressing (not the cubed kind) (you can use whatever breadcrumbs you have but the seasonings are really good! Sage, thyme, rosemary, poultry seasonings, whatever.)

The other half of your stick of butter

Instructions:

Cream the cream cheese (a stand mixer is helpful for this) and beat in 1/2 stick of melted butter. Beat until smooth.

Add chicken, onion, salt, pepper, milk, lemon juice. (Order doesn't really matter.) Mix well.

Separate 1 package of crescent dough into 4 rectangles. Firmly press perforations to seal 2 triangles together. Pat out dough to make thinner and larger (make it sorta square if you cant). (See alternate options below*)

Place about 1/2 cup filling into the center of each dough rectangle. Pull the 4 corners to the center. Twist slightly and pinch together, and pinch the sides that came together to seal. (It's totally ok if they're not perfect. They filling isn't gonna go anywhere.)

[4 unbaked chicken squares on a cookie sheet with a silicone baking mat. Three of them are sealed and kind of lumpy, the fourth is still laying out as a square-ish shape of dough with a scoop of filling in the middle. It's got a lot of green onions in it.]

Repeat with your second roll of rolls.

Melt other 1/2 stick of butter in a shallow bowl or pie plate and fill a 2nd shallow bowl with the stuffing/dressing/herbed seasoned bread crumbs.

Set out a cookie pan (I like to line them with parchment paper but it's fine if you don't, they won't stick).

Carefully lift one sandwich packet. Dip both sides(!) in butter and then in the stuffing. Place on the cookie sheet. (Sometimes I wear gloves for this step, your fingers WILL get gooey. You want the bread crumbs sticking out all over, it'll be delicious.)

Repeat for the rest of them.

[four unbaked chicken squares coated in butter and stuffing bread crumbs on a cookie sheet, ready to go into the oven]

Bake at 350°F for 20-25 minutes (or at 375 for about half an hour if you live on top of a mountain like me). They should be golden brown when they're done (see photos at top and bottom of the post).

You can partially bake and freeze or refrigerate for later!

Prepare sauce:

(I'm going to be honest I don't bother. Sometimes I make a can of cream of mushroom soup in the microwave and pour it on top. It's good! But it's way too much for just a me, and it doesn't freeze as well.)

Sauté mushrooms in about 1/4 cup of butter (sorry that's another half stick of butter, that wasn't in the list above)

Heat chicken broth and cans of soup.

Mix in mushrooms

Simmer until thick and bubbly. Reduce heat and add cream right before use. DO NOT boil after adding cream.

To serve, ladle mushroom sauce over each chicken square on plate.

[a baked chicken square in a shallow bowl swimming in cream of mushroom soup]

*Alternatives to trying to make squares out of crescent dough:

Supposedly it works with dinner roll dough too but I don't remember ever doing that.

Buy the sheets of crescent dough, which makes it a little less likely to split along the diagonal where you tried to smoosh them together.

Make little roll ups! Spoon filling onto large side of the crescent roll triangle and roll up just like you would if you were making it without filling (this is also really good with jam or nutella js). You can still dip them in the butter and dressing, they turn out great! You get a bigger bread to filling ratio, so you might need more rolls for the same amount of filling. Bake time is a little shorter though, keep an eye on them. They're cute though!

[three chicken roll ups(?) on a plate]

[baked chicken squares and roll ups on parchment paper-covered cookie sheets sitting on the stove]

So, go forth and eat chicken squares. I've got some in my freezer that I made after thanksgiving with my leftover turkey, I'm going to eat some on Monday for my birthday meal, as is traditional.

#replying to asks #chicken squares #recipe #idk if i would call these specifically a midwestern food but they have that vibe to them #cream cheese is so delicious #the filling is safe to eat too so you're just baking the crescent roll dough and heating up the insides #i took pics one of the more recent times i made them bc every time i mention these people go 'what'#lmao #now i have a whole post i can just link to in the future #random personal stuff #sorta

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jobean12-blog · 2 years

Note

Bucky Fic- Bucky is always having nightmares and panic attacks during the night, he would always go to steve or natasha for help but one night when steve and nat are on a mission, Bucky starts rambling around the command trying to calm himself down he stumbles across the reader in the living room, watching tv, you start helping bucky with his nightmares and he slowly starts coming to you more than steve. and one night he comes out to the reader to tell her that he had a dream, the reader is really excited and happy for bucky until he tell her that it was a sex dream and that he was falling for her and then it gets steamy

you can take it from there lol (obvs smutty) lol

have a great day❤️

Dream Fall

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 2,625

Summary: Bucky has nightmares pretty regularly and it's hard to sleep so when he finds out that you sometimes have trouble sleeping too it works out in everyone's favor.

Author's Note: Thank you bunches love for this sweet and sexy request! 💕I love the idea of Bucky spending time with the reader and it helping him relax and of course he has to act on his dream...hope you enjoy! Have a lovely night! HUGS! This is also for my lovely friend Suz @musingsinmoonlight and her Any Way You Want It Writing Challenge in celebration of 1k followers! 💕Congratulations my sweet, so deserved and a million more! Love you! My prompt was: "The door's always open, you know that." Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by my love @firefly-graphics thank you sweets!🥰

Warnings: a tiny tinge of angst, lots of fun and fluff, teasing, flirting, tension and smut; fingering (18+ ONLY PLEASE!!!)

“Can’t sleep either?”

You scream and throw your cookie straight at the assailants head before diving onto the floor. Your ass is in the air and your face is buried in the pillow that fell with you. A light poke to your butt cheek makes you scream again, this time most of the sound muffled by the pillow.

“This is a really good cookie.”

“Wha…” you say as you slowly lift your head and peek through your fingers. “Bucky?”

“Hey doll,” he murmurs sheepishly. “Sorry if I scared ya.”

“You caught that?” you ask, your shock evident.

“Yea,” Bucky scoffs. “Easily.”

“Of course,” you deadpan with a roll of your eyes before they widen with disbelief.

“Did you eat my cookie?”

He quickly wipes at his mouth and sticks his hands in the pockets of his sweats.

“Um. Maybe?”

“You ate my cookie!” you screech. “First you scare the living daylights out of me then you EAT MY COOKIE!”

He dips his head and mumbles a quiet, “sorry.”

You exhale and fall back onto the couch, looking up at his tired eyes and slumped shoulders. You immediately feel bad.

“It’s ok, don’t worry Buck,” you tell him, patting the spot next to you. “So why are you up?” you ask.

“These nightmares keep waking me up and I can’t fall back to sleep after.”

His confession makes you soften even more and you lay a gentle hand over his.

“I’m sorry. And I didn’t mean to yell. You can have as many cookies as you want.”

“You have more?” he asks with a hopeful smile.

You nod with a grin and jog back to the kitchen to grab the plate.

“Want a drink?” you ask.

“Got milk?”

“Yep!” you answer, popping the p.

You return with a stacked plate of cookies and a large glass of milk.

“Thanks doll,” he says before shoving a whole cookie into his mouth. “Pheese arr rlly gud.”

“What?” you giggle.

“These,” he starts again, swallowing. “Are really good.”

“Thanks, I made them.”

“Really?”

“Don’t act so surprised Barnes. I love to bake.”

He takes another cookie and dips this one in milk, humming happily when he bites the soft cookie.

“Well, you’re really good at it,” he mumbles through another mouthful.

You smile and lean forward, wiping some crumbs from his lip.

He clears his throat before his tongue darts out to lick the spot you just touched.

“So, why are you up?” he asks, feeling his cheeks heat.

“Some nights I just can’t fall asleep you know. My brain is just like...” and you make these crazy and wild motions with your hands flying around your head. “So, I bake.”

“I understand that” he sighs.

“I was just going to watch some Chopped if you want to stay,” you tell him as you settle against the cushions.

He leans back, his shoulder bumping yours. “I’d love to doll.”

The next morning you wake up with a long stretch and a deep exhale, feeling more rested that usual. You look around and realize you’re back in your bed.

After washing up and changing you walk into the common room and find Bucky hunched over his coffee cup.

“Hey,” you say softly.

His face brightens the moment he looks up and sees you. “Heya doll. How did ya sleep?”

“I actually feel like I got a decent amount,” you smile. “But I don’t remember how I got back to my room and in bed.”

He audibly swallows and gives you a boyish smirk. “Well, uh, you sorta fell asleep while we were watching the show and I didn’t want to leave you on the couch so…”

“Thank you Bucky. I appreciate it,” you whisper and kiss the corner of his mouth.

His eyes are soft and his lashes flutter against his cheeks when you pull away.

“Anytime doll. And I wanna thank you for hanging out with me and sharing your cookies last night. Really helped me relax.”

“Happy to and if I’m not out here just come find me, I’m usually up.”

He starts to shake his head. “Nah, I can’t be bothering you all the time doll.”

“Bucky,” you chide and curl your fingers around his, “you’re not bothering me. The door’s always open, you know that.”

With a small nod he squeezes your hand and says a quiet, “thanks.”

The next few nights pass in the same fashion. You’re up watching tv after baking and he shows up to stay with you. Sometimes you talk, sometimes you don’t but always your bodies are pressed together on the couch as you sit, shoulder to shoulder and knee to knee.

However, the next night goes a bit different when he wakes up earlier than usual and finds you getting ready to bake.

He walks into the kitchen looking disheveled and tired with his hair mussed and his shirt clinging to slightly sweaty skin.

“Hey,” you say quietly as you put down your whisk and take a step closer.

His chin dips and his chocolate brown locks fall in front of his face. You lift a tentative hand and brush them away, inwardly sighing when you notice they are still wet with sweat. Your thumb swipes across his jaw and you lift his eyes to yours.

“I’m making a new recipe. Want to help?”

“Yea doll. That would be great.”

The relief in his yes puts you at ease and you take his hand, leading him to the counter. You don’t ask him any questions, hoping if he wants to talk he knows you’re ready to listen. You’re just hoping to keep his mind occupied on something else.

“Ok, first…you need an apron!”

You shuffle through the aprons Tony has stashed in the bottom drawer and pull out one that says: ‘I have no idea what I’m doing.’

“Here you go,” you say, holding it out for him.

He takes it and starts to lift it over his head but you stop him.

“Wait Buck. You’re a little…just…come here.”

He steps closer to you and you gently smooth out his tee shirt and straighten the fabric over his shoulders then brush the stray strands of hair from his face.

His eyes follow your every move and you love the way his body feels under your fingertips. You pull your hair tie off your wrist and move behind him.

“Um, can you bend down a little. I can’t reach,” you giggle.

He does as you ask and you comb your fingers through his hair before securing it in a low bun at the base of his neck. Taking the apron from his hands you put it over his head and tie the back of it in a bow.

“There we go! Now you’re ready to bake!”

When he reads the front of the apron he lets out a real laugh, his nose scrunched up and his eyes crinkled.

“It’s fitting,” he says with a smile and a shrug.

“You look so cute,” you hum but turn away before you see his cheeks turn pink.

He quickly tries to recover and focus on your instructions. Within no time you have the butter and sugar creamed and you’re working on the dry ingredients for your new brownie recipe.

“These already look so good,” he says as he whisks the dry ingredients together.

“I know I can’t wait to taste them!” you agree.

He gets a little too enthusiastic while whisking and proceeds to send a cloud of flour out of the bowl and onto his apron. You point and laugh but it quickly dies away when he takes some flour from the bag and chucks it at your face.

“BUCKY!” you screech!

You try to reach over him to get your own handful but he easily stops you, pinning your wrists together.

“I don’t think so doll face.”

You huff and stomp your foot. “Fine. But you better watch your back Barnes!”

He pulls you into his chest and leans down close to your ear. “Is that a threat doll?”

“Maybe,” you whisper, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Ok then. Two can play at this game,” he answers before releasing you.

You both manage to behave until the brownies are in the oven and it’s time for cleanup. You can’t help but sneak a look at him as he washes the dishes, his shoulders much less tense than before and his eyes bright.

He feels your gaze and looks up to catch you staring.

“What?” he asks.

“Nothing,” you reply and go back to wiping the countertop.

Without warning a spray of cold water hits you in the side, soaking your shirt and making you scream. You drop the cloth and pin him with a murder glare. You pick up the clean whisk and run at him but he easily grabs you around the waist and spins you so your back is to his chest and your arms are crossed in front of you.

“Never gonna happen doll,” he teases.

“UGH! This is so unfair!” you whine.

He laughs and dances his fingers down your sides, his glee plentiful when he realizes how ticklish you are.

“Oh, this is too easy,” he cheers over the sound of your hysterical laughter.

When you get to the point where you can barely breathe or stand he finally stops but still holds you in his arms.

“You ok doll face?” he asks, leaning his head on your shoulder.

You try to elbow him but to no avail and he just laughs more.

“I’m FINE!” you huff. “But I shouldn’t share any brownies with you!”

“AW! You have to! I helped ya make ‘em!” he exclaims.

He loosens his grip and you spin in his arms, holding up the whisk.

“You still have that?” he laughs.

“Yea, I was hoping to bop you at least once,” you explain as you try to hit him with it.

He closes his metal fingers around your wrist, effectively stopping any chance you have. With a quick tug he pulls you closer, his face only inches from yours.

“Looks like I win,” he simpers.

You tremble in his arms, your mouth opening with a retort but when his eyes drop to your lips you run your tongue along the outline instead and he dips his head.

“Bucky…” you breathe out.

The timer for the brownies goes off and you jump.

“Shit,” he mutters, reluctantly letting go of you.

You take the brownies out and frantically fan them with the oven mitt, rambling on about how they should be cool enough to try in a few minutes.

“Want some milk?” Bucky asks when he walks to the fridge.

Once the brownies are cool and you each have one and a glass of milk you count to three and take a bite. Your simultaneous moans have you both laughing through the delicious mouthful.

“Wow,” Bucky finally says, his eyes still closed as he savors the bite.

“You said it,” you hum, licking the crumbs from your lips.

He opens his eyes in time to catch the action and his gaze stays locked on your mouth.

“You’ve got a little something…” he says softly, as he leans in, brushing his thumb across your lips.

Before you can consider your reaction you pull his thumb between your lips and lick it clean. He sucks in a breath and his eyes darken.

“Doll…” he murmurs, dropping his hand to your cheek.

“WHY THE HELL DOES IT SMELL LIKE BROWNIES AT 2am?”

Sam’s loud voice slices through the moment and you and Bucky quickly move away from each other. Sam looks between the two of you, his eyes sparkling with barely contained excitement. He slides over to the kitchen island and slips his hand into the plate of brownies, grabbing two before backing up with an ever-growing grin. Without a word he disappears down the hallway.

“Fucking Wilson,” Bucky mutters.

The next night it’s Bucky you find in the kitchen baking. You shuffle in, your old, oversized tee shirt hanging off your shoulder and your pink lace panties visible through the thin fabric.

The moment you round the corner his eyes are on you, drinking in every inch of your exposed skin.

“Hey,” he swallows.

“Hi Buck,” you answer softly, wringing your shirt between your hands. “Are you baking without me?”

“You really are a dream come true,” he whispers.

Your eyebrows draw together and you tilt your head.

“What?” you ask, taking a step closer to him.

“My dream…” he murmurs. “You were in my dream.”

“Was it a good dream?” you ask, excitedly.

“It was the best dream I’ve ever had,” he answers, putting down the spatula.

“That’s amazing. I’m so happy for you!” you sing.

He turns toward you and moves into your space, crowding your against the counter.

“Thanks,” he says, lightly grazing his fingers down your arm.

You try to keep your body from responding but his touch sends a shiver down your spine.

“How come you’re awake then?” you ask through a shaky breath.

“Well, it was such a good dream that when I woke up I couldn’t go back to sleep. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

He tilts his head and lightly skims his lips over your temple.

“Oh,” is all you manage to say.

“Don’t ya wanna know what it was about baby doll?”

He pulls back to look at you and you nod, trying to concentrate on the words falling from his lips rather than his hard body pressed to yours.

“Well, it all started kinda like this. We were up in the middle of the night and we were baking something. I don’t even remember what it was.”

“Uh huh,” you say, digging your teeth into your bottom lip.

“But you weren’t wearing this,” he smirks, rubbing your thin tee shirt between his fingertips. “You were wearing my Henley and…”

His hand dips lower and he lifts the hem of your shirt, stopping long enough to make sure there is no apprehension in your eyes.

“Bucky please,” you whimper, giving him all he needs.

With teasing movements, he lifts the shirt high enough to reveal your pink panties.

“You definitely weren’t wearing these,” he croons.

“What was I…”

“Nothing,” he interrupts as he hooks his finger into the lace at your hip.

“Then what happened?” you ask him, digging your fingers into his shoulders.

“Then…” he starts, dipping his head close enough to gently run his nose along your skin.

His lips press to yours and he coaxes the softest sounds from the back of your throat before deepening the kiss and swallowing your moans. Long and nimble fingers tease the edge of your panties before slipping lower.

With a hiss against your lips, he slides his fingers through the wetness between your legs, parting your folds and rubbing your clit in slow circles.

Your back arches and you press yourself into him, letting your legs fall open. His metal hand cradles the back of your neck and he angles your head back, exposing the delicate column and kissing along the length of it.

“And then?” you gasp, feeling the light press of his finger.

He hums against your skin as his lips move across your jaw and he sets his heated gaze on yours. He slowly pushes one finger inside you, letting his eyes close just long enough to savor the feel before he opens them again and pushes a second one in.

“Don’t worry. I’m going to show you everything I did.”

You clench around his fingers, rocking your hips onto his hand in a desperate plea for more.

“Oh fuck, baby doll, you feel better than anything I could ever dream of.”

@book-dragon-13 @christywantspizza @dreamlessinparis @goldylions @hiddles-rose @hiddles-and-skittles @jhangelface0523 @loricamebackyetagain @lookiamtrying @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin @rebel-stardust @turbolisedcomet @breakablebarnes @weekendgothgirl @loki-laufeyson-1054 @seitmai @justile @bb-skyrunner

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #beefy!bucky #beefy!bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x female!reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #suzsanywayyouwantitchallenge

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complexcritterscave · 2 months

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HI I’M SORRY FOR THE SPIVE ANGST SORRY CHAT PLEASE LOVE ME I’M SORRY PLEASE LOOK I’M DOING FLUFF TO MAKE YOU HAPPY PLEASE DON’T PLACE MY HEAD ON STICK PWETTY PWEASEEEEE I’M JUST A BABY A BABY WRITER DON’T HURT MWEEEEEEE

Fanfic based off THIS LOVELY PERSON’S ART PLEASE SHOW THEM SOME LOVE NOWWWWW 💛🖤💛🖤💛🖤💛🖤💛🖤

Anyway fanfic starts now :3

Mornings…

Who would want to leave the soft and warm comfort of their bed? The embrace of one’s sheets wrapped around them as if they were but a small infant once more.

There was not a single person in the world who actually enjoyed getting up.

Absolutely no one..

Not a single person…

Nope!

Okay that might have been just a teeny tiny lie…

Well… Not really a lie? How am I supposed to know, I’m just a narrator get off my back!

Moving on…

There really was one person who enjoyed mornings. For her, that meant she had lived to see another day. That she had evaded capture once more. No one could catch a genius, a reborn, intuitive Einstein as she would say. That’s right! Bive was the smartest cookie there was!

Mornings were a sign of hope, that she still had a chance to spread the truth! A chance to save everyone. Of course some were too far gone to be saved and would have to suffer the consequences for when the clowns came and snow soldiers took over but they picked their poison. They made their bed. They dug their graves. Now they had to lay in them when the time came.

Besides! Even if she couldn’t save everyone, she could save some of them! She could use her cleverness to think of plans to save those who listened. Her brains to find solutions to their biggest problems. She could accomplish anything as long as she was wide awake, as long as the gears in her head were constantly turning!

…

So why weren’t they spinning now?

She stared at her corkboard, her expression dull as she leaned against the brick wall of the maze. She felt horrible. Her head was killing her and her special brew wasn’t helping her in the slightest. If anything it made it worse! She felt top heavy and ill, her arms and legs acted as if they were a fruity gelatine. Maybe even a sweet lime flavour gelatine…

If that didn’t sound awful already. She was groggy and irritated. Her cat-like reflexes were more like a snail’s and her vision would occasionally blur.

What in the name of Clown Militia was going on with her?!

She let out an annoyed groan as she used the wall to keep herself upright before eventually succumbing and falling over. It was as if her own body were betraying her!

Useless vessel. Didn’t know she was the reason it was even alive! Talk about ungrateful…

There had to be someone she could trust to assist her. DrRETRO? No. That furball thought she was insane. Poob? No. They’d make it worse with their constant partying. Mark? He’d try and fix her with some sort of wood trick. Wallter? He trusts the flowers… Absolutely not…

Wait… God it was worse than she thought. She couldn’t even CONTACT any of them! None of them had her signal! Oh the fool she was! A complete and total fool!

Who had her radio signal..? Her memory was a bit fogged at the moment but she knew she gave it to someone..

Aha! Split! At least she thinks so? She couldn’t remember very well. She reached for her radio, twisting and turning the knobs as she attempted to reach the fruit-taur, letting out a cry of pain from the feedback and hissing through her teeth.

She let out a quiet sigh, trying to ignore the splitting pain that shot through her head, with every knob turn a new static frequency filling the air. Her voice croaking as she spoke into the radio.

"Split?"

"Split are you there?!"

The fruit-taur was sleeping peacefully in her own bed, a small banana-themed night light shining on her nightstand beside her alarm clock. It was still frankly early, only about 4am.

All was quiet…

"SPLIT!"

… Until it wasn’t…

Split immediately shot up, breathing heavily as she was suddenly awoken from her restful slumber. Her heart racing as she glanced around frantically.

"WHO’S THERE?! SHOW YOURSELF! I KNOW KUNG FU! I’VE SEEN ENOUGH MOVIES TO KNOW WHAT I’M DOING!"

Despite being unable to see, she immediately went on the defensive, tensing up as she tried to look as threatening as possible.

"Split…? Split are you there? Split..? Split!"

She turned towards her nightstand, the adrenaline dying down as it slowly became replaced with tired realization. She grabbed her glasses, putting them on before reaching for the radio.

"SPLIT?! Oh no. DID THE CLOWNS GET YOU?! OH GOD THIS IS AWFUL THEY KIDNAPPED HER?! WHAT AM I GONNA DO?! If they got her… THEN THEY’RE ATTACKING NOW! OH MY GOD OH MY GOD! THAT MEANS THEY’RE COMING FOR ME NEXT! I GOTTA GET OUT OF HERE BEFORE THEY CATCH ME AND-"

"Bivey, you’re spiralling again…"

Bive’s side of the radio went quiet, as if she were processing the moment before answering.

"SPLIT YOU’RE OKAY- AcK- Ow ow radio feedback ow."

Split couldn’t help but smile, finding her worry endearing before speaking up.

"Yes, I’m fine. What’s going on with you? It’s uh…"

She glanced at the clock.

"Four in the morning. I don’t even think the early bird gets up this early!"

"IT’S AN EMERGENCY! THERE’S SOMETHING WRONG WITH ME!"

"What-?"

Well that was concerning news.

"What do you mean something is wrong with you?"

"MY BODY IS ACTING WEIRD. I THINK I MAY HAVE BEEN POISONED! SOMEONE POISONED ME!"

She listened as the detective rambled on and on, blinking as she tried to slowly put everything together.

"Poisoned-? Bive what-? No one poisoned you. You probably just have a cold."

"THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE! I CAN’T GET SICK! I-"

"Okay okay fine! You’re not sick! Just calm down."

"HOW CAN I CALM DOWN WHEN I’VE BEEN POISONED?!"

"Oh my… Bive? Just… Stay calm for now? I’ll be over soon."

Guess she wasn’t sleeping in like she originally planned. She sighed as Bive rambled some incoherent words before the radio went dead, having no clue what she said before she got up. She was just in a comfortable T-shirt, that’s decent enough to go out.

It’s not like anyone would see her, it was too early for someone to be out and about on the elevator… Apart from her of course…

Bive was leaning against the wall, her head still throbbing and body still weak. She felt awful. There was no way she WASN’T poisoned. How was this even possible?! Even if they DID make it through the maze, how did they catch her off guard?! She was awake the whole time!

This was worse than she thought. Her enemies were getting smarter. They had found her location, slipped through the maze, and caught her off guard while she was on guard! Oh this was horrible. Truly terrible! How could she save anyone in her weakened state?!

The next hours were spent in agony. Well at least it felt like hours, it had really been only thirty minutes as she sat there patiently. Waiting for the Split’s arrival.

Speaking of Split, she was already stepping off the elevator, standing outside of the maze as she yawned. The sun hadn’t even risen yet, it wasn’t even dawn. She entered the maze, knowing her way decently enough to where she couldn’t get lost and only worrying about Scary Mike and an overly excited Fleshy, more so Mike, as she navigated herself through it.

Turning one of corners, she noticed the soft glow of a yellow light. Bingo. She quickened her pace down the hall, the strong scent of coffee wafting over her as the glow became stronger. Soon enough, she was met with the living quarters of the paranoid detective.

It was just as unorganized as she remembered, red string and empty styrofoam cups littered the floor. At least she listened to her the last time Split was over and picked up the thumbtacks, those were just accidents waiting to happen. Her floppy ears lifted as she heard a quiet and pained groan, looking down to see that Bive was on the floor, against the wall, with her head in her hands.

"Bive?"

She let out a startled yelp, trying to jump back only to met with a brick wall as she hissed through gritted teeth. That didn’t help with her headache and weak body at all… She looked up at the fruit-taur, a wave of relief and realization washing over her.

"SPLIT-! HI! HELLO…"

"Are you okay?"

"No! I’ve been POISONED! I’m going to DIE!"

"You’re not going to die."

"YES I AM!"

"Why do you think that?"

"BECAUSE THERE’S SOMETHING WRONG WITH ME!"

She winced in pain as she felt another debilitating stroke of pain shoot through her head, gritting her teeth and using the wall to stand as she leaned against it. Seeing her state, Split grew concerned. Her being poisoned was a stretch but there was very well a chance she may have done or eaten something that could cause her this much harm.

"Can you tell me exactly what you’re feeling right now..?"

"Er-! A stupid headache… I feel a bit nauseous… lightweight… Annoyed with everything.."

"Have you eaten?"

"Yes…"

"Have you had some water?"

"..Yes…"

"Have you slept..?"

"…"

"Have. You. Slept?"

"Uh… No…"

"When’s the last time you have?"

"…"

"Bive… When was the last time you slept?"

"Hold on. I’m trying to remember…"

"You shouldn’t have to remember! It should’ve been recently!"

"BUT THAT LEAVES ME VULNERABLE TO THE CLOWNS AND SO-"

"You’re also vulnerable to them if you DON’T sleep!"

Touché…

"Oh please, I’m not even tired!"

"Doesn’t mean anything!"

"I think it means a lot!"

"Do you want to feel better or not?"

"I do."

"Then go to sleep!"

"But-!"

"No no! I don’t wanna hear it. No buts! If you’re that worried about being attacked by someone, I can just stay with you! Problem solved!"

Bive stared at Split for a moment. She’s never had her stay over. But seeing how much the fruit-taur wanted her to sleep, she knew she didn’t have much of a choice.

"Fine."

"Thank you…"

Split watched as the detective huffed and left to go get ready for bed, smiling as she grumbled underneath her breath. Even if she wasn’t happy with the idea, it was certainly necessary.

She continued to wait patiently before Bive reappeared, no longer in her classic coat and pants but in her own sleepwear.

"I don’t like this."

"Too bad. You need it."

"Do I though?"

"Go to bed."

Seeing as she wasn’t going to be able to wriggle herself away from this situation, she groaned before heading off back to her room, falling onto the bed and just laying there while waiting for fall asleep. She wasn’t very good at this thing…

Split stood outside the door, still feeling sluggish but forcing herself to stay awake. She had no idea what time it was since Bive owned no clocks; something about time being stopped and how every other clock was a fake, but it felt as if it were still early. She felt herself dozing off, but tried to fight against it. Right as she was about to drift off to sleep, she felt someone tap her shoulder.

"Split…? I can’t sleep."

She jerked awake, staring down at Bive before sighing.

"Are you okay?"

"I’m fine! Just tired.."

"Oh…"

"…"

"Do you wanna sleep in my bed?"

"What?"

"I MEAN YOU DON’T HAVE TO! I just thought.. Ya know!"

She stared tiredly down at the stammering and jittery detective, a small grin appearing on her face.

"I’ll take you up on that offer…"

Bive paused, looking at Split before forcing out a nervous laugh.

"AHAH! Uh OKAY!"

She led the fruit-taur into her room, watching as she dragged her paws towards the bed. She paused midway before looking towards Bive.

"Wait. Where are you gonna sleep?"

"Uhh… I just… won’t? Since I’m not tired..?"

She gave her a nervous smile, flashing her yellow tinted teeth at Split. Unfortunately for her, the other’s gaze hardened.

"Alright, I’ll just fix it this way."

Before she could get a reply out, she was dragged into the bed with her, the fruit-taur was holding her close as she sighed.

"This… This isn’t necessary you know?"

"Yes it is."

"But-"

"Bivey?"

"… Yes?"

"Goodnight."

"… Goodnight, Split.."

Bive fell quiet, listening quietly as Split’s breathing eventually slowed into quiet snores. She laid there a moment, before clinging onto the other, snuggling against her before sighing. A sudden wave of exhaustion washed over her as she began drifting off.

"Goodnight…"

RAHHHHHHH FANFIC FINISHED. Sorry if it isn’t as good as my angst fic, I hope you enjoyed it though!!!!!

Omw to work on the Cheshire Cat doomed yuri fanfic someone double dog dared me to write now bye sillies <3

#regretevator #regretevator bive #regretevator split #bive regretevator #bive #split #split regretevator #bive x split #split x bive #regretevator spive #spive regretevator #spive #she regret on my evator

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onceuponastory · 1 year

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something sweet - bucky barnes x reader. chapter two: something new

“Every time we fall to pieces, we build something new out of the hurt” - Back to Earth by Steve Aoki featuring Fall Out Boy

Series Masterlist

Chapter Plot: Bucky introduces Y/N to Sam and Steve, and soon realises he has to tell her something important. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader (soon) Warnings: Mentions of death, implied previous abusive relationship, reader doubting herself, mentions of Bucky’s past as TWS and anxiety. As always, if I miss any triggers, let me know. Notes: Thank you again to @staticscreenwriting / @astartothemoon for my divider, and her help with this chapter! Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.

The next morning, Y/N lays in bed, thinking over everything that’s happened in her life until now. Only a few months ago, the idea of being here, an actual business owner was unbelievable, some kind of distant fantasy. Things like this, your life changing forever in such a brief space of time usually only happens in the movies, never to ordinary people like her. But yet, here she is, living proof that miracles do happen. Although honestly, sometimes Y/N is still waiting to wake up, to open her eyes one morning and be back home, her new life nothing more than a dream.

Yet, Y/N would be lying if she said that part of her didn’t wish for that, or that she did just sell the shop. Of course, she wants nothing more than to continue her aunt’s dream and build her legacy… she just doesn’t know if she can do it. No matter how much she tries, she can’t escape the little voice of doubt in her head, the one that has a name, and the pit in her stomach that always forms whenever the voice returns. By this point, she’s convinced it’s going to stick with her forever.

“I wish you were still here.” She mumbles sadly, staring at the picture of her and her aunt together, proudly displayed on her bedside table. Y/N registers a tear rolling down her cheek, but she doesn’t wipe it away… or the ones that follow it. “You always knew what to do, and had the right words to say. I just wish I listened.”

Later on, emerging from under the covers after spending most of the morning crying, Y/N decides to bake something in an attempt to clear her head and feel a little better. Throughout her life, the good and the bad, baking has always brought Y/N a sense of peace and happiness, an escape from everything going on in her life. It was hers and her aunt's favourite activity, something for them both to share. Her aunt always used to tell her that whenever she was upset, baking was a good remedy. She said it was because it helped you use all of your pain to make something new, and something good.

Now that her aunt’s gone, Y/N needs that advice more than ever.

As Y/N stirs the cookie mixture in the bowl, humming a tune to herself as she does, her thoughts go back to Bucky. It’s nice to have someone like him so close by that she can depend on. She just hopes that she doesn’t lose him too, like what seems to happen with a lot of people in her life. Either that or they turn out to be assholes. But Bucky doesn’t seem like that. He’s been nothing but kind and welcoming to her. Yet, they usually start out kind before revealing their true colours. And Y/N knows that better than anyone. “No. Bucky wouldn’t do that. He couldn’t. He can’t.” Y/N buries that thought as deep as it will go, refusing to let it consume her. As she does, another thought enters her mind. A happier, calmer one.

Maybe she should give the cookies to Bucky. He deserves something to say thanks after all the help he’s given her so far, and for at least being her only friend in New York. “God, that sounds so pathetic. Besides, is he even really a friend, or just a neighbour?” …Or maybe he could just be a taste tester.

Once the cookies are done, Y/N wipes at her eyes, ensuring there’s no evidence of her crying only hours ago. There’s no way she’s going to open that can of worms with Bucky yet, let alone so early in the morning. She even takes a moment to check her hair and puts on a little lip gloss, just so she looks semi-presentable, instead of looking like she’s just spent a few hours crying in her bed. Then, Y/N heads along the hallway to Bucky’s apartment, knocking on his door. When he opens the door, Bucky leans against the doorframe, smiling at her. He’s wearing a black shirt, one that is clearly a few sizes too small, given how tightly it clings to his chest. His arm muscles bulge out, the veins prominently displayed. Y/N’s breath hitches in her throat. God, he’s gorgeous. As her eyes go lower, tracing down Bucky’s form, all Bucky can think is just how glad he is that he actually wore a shirt to bed last night. God knows what would’ve happened to either of them if Bucky appeared shirtless.

“Morning.” Bucky smiles. Given how husky his voice is, he’s only just woken up. And it almost sends Y/N’s heart into overdrive. But then she notices something.

“Your arm!” She gasps. Immediately, Bucky’s stomach drops. In his rush to answer the door, he didn’t think to cover it like he usually does, meaning that this is the first time Y/N has seen the full arm.

“Well, it’s-” Bucky stammers, trying to summarise the last seventy years of his life at 10am on a Tuesday morning. Thankfully, before he can even begin to do so, Y/N says:

“It’s beautiful!”

“Oh… thank you.” Bucky smiles, flushing slightly pink. After so long hating himself and his arm, and seeing all the blood that has stained it over the years, Bucky has never once heard his arm referred to as beautiful. Truthfully, he had never realised that anyone could see anything about him as beautiful. He registers a fluttering sensation in his stomach, one that makes him feel giddy. Even though he still doesn’t believe Y/N’s words… he still appreciates them more than she could ever know. “So, what can I do for you?”

“I wanted to practise my baking, so I made some chocolate chip cookies, and thought I’d give you some.” Y/N passes the plate over. “Consider it an extra thanks for last night.” Before Bucky can protest, Y/N cuts in. “I know what you’re gonna say, so you can also consider them as a taste test instead. You’re not getting out of this that easily, Bucky.”

Bucky chuckles, picking up a cookie. In all honesty, despite how wary he is about getting closer to Y/N because of his past, he actually doesn’t want to get out of anything involving Y/N. If he could, he’d spend time with her for as long as he can. As soon as he bites into it, Y/N watches anxiously, studying every inch of his facial expression. When what feels like forever goes by without so much as a single word from Bucky, Y/N’s stomach twists anxiously. “He hates it. This was a mistake. I’m definitely not cut out for this.”

To her surprise, though, Bucky’s eyes soon widen. “Oh my god, Y/N.” He gasps, his mouth still full. “This is incredible!”

“Really?”

“Yes! They’re the perfect mix of soft and gooey… they’re perfect. If the rest of your baking is like this….” He trails off, smiling contently, his words making Y/N grin. “Actually, I know you said they’re just for me, but can I take some of these to my friends? I think they’d love them too.”

“Your friends?” She repeats, the anxious feeling from before suddenly coming back with a vengeance. Although she doesn’t know much about Bucky, he’s safe, he’s comfortable. She doesn’t know anything about his friends. What if they hate her. The last thing she wants is to be all alone again, just like before. Maybe she's always destined to be alone. She feels herself starting to panic, her heart and mind beginning to race. “Shut up. You’re being fucking ridiculous. That’s not going to happen. Stop letting him get to you again.”

“Y/N? Y/N are you okay? You kinda dozed off there.” Bucky’s voice cuts through her mind and all its rambling, bringing her back down to earth. He leans forward, concern all over his face. He studies her, looking for any hint that something’s wrong. Heat rises throughout Y/N’s body, settling on her cheeks.

Taking a deep breath and trying to ignore how much her heart is pounding, she nods. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Bucky doesn’t need to know that she’s lying through her teeth. If he did, then he really would run a mile. “Of course you can give some to your friends. Let me know what they think.”

Bucky can tell almost immediately that something’s wrong, and that there’s something Y/N’s hiding. “Are you sure you’re okay? I can-”

“I better let you get dressed. I have more things to bake, anyway.” Y/N cuts him off. Before Bucky can say anything else, she turns on her heel and walks back to her apartment. Bucky watches her go, wanting nothing more than to run after her and check if she really is okay, and what he can do to help… just like he said he would. And yet, he stays rooted where he is, simply watching as she disappears behind her door. Because despite how much he wants to do so, Bucky knows he can’t just come charging in after her and demand to know what’s wrong, especially not in the early stages of their friendship. He’ll probably terrify her and in the process stop her from ever wanting to speak to him again, which is the last thing he wants. He needs to find the best, calm way to make sure that she’s okay and knows that he’s there for her.

And that thought occupies Bucky’s mind as he gets ready, and all the way to the Avengers tower, and to the briefing room.

“Hey, Barnes brought cookies!”

“I didn’t know you baked, Buck.” Sam gasps, eyeing the plate in Bucky’s hand.

“Oh, they’re not mine. My new neighbour Y/N made them and said I can share them with you guys.”

“Oh? A new neighbour, hm?” Steve grins.

“Shove off. She’s taking over her aunt’s coffee shop, and she wants us to taste test her cookies. But if you don’t want them….” Bucky trails off, grabbing another cookie from the pile. Soon, the cookies have been distributed around the room, and it fills with happy comments and orders for Bucky to tell Y/N to bake more treats for them. Yet, despite the intense briefing, he still can’t keep his mind off Y/N.

“Okay, spill. What’s up with you?” Sam asks, pulling him to one side with Steve after the briefing. When Bucky insists nothing is wrong, the pair don’t believe him. “Come on, you’ve been off in a dream world for most of the briefing. Steve almost had to elbow you to answer one of Tony’s questions. Something’s up with you Buck. Are you okay?”

Although Bucky doesn’t even know everything that’s going on, the fact that this has been on his mind all day causes it to spill out before he can even think about it.

“It’s about Y/N.” Ignoring the smirking from his two best friends, Bucky continues. “I think something’s wrong with her. I don’t know for sure, but we were talking, and out of nowhere, she got this awful look on her face, like something spooked her, and I got really worried about her. I wanted to ask what was going on, but she left before I could. And now-”

“You don’t know how to ask?” Steve finishes, and Bucky nods. Honestly, despite how much his friends annoy him, he appreciates their help, and feels better after getting his feelings out in the open.

“Honestly, Bucky, it’s really admirable how much you care about her, despite how little you’ve known her for. But if something is wrong, she’s probably not ready to tell you right away, especially since you’ve just met. I mean, have you even told her about being an Avenger and your past?” Bucky shakes his head. Of course, the idea has crossed his mind a few times, but he has no idea how or where to even start, or if he even should. Any sane person would run a mile in the opposite direction if you told them you used to be a brainwashed assassin, pardoned or not. “Exactly.” Sam nods. “You two don’t have to tell each other everything yet if you’re not ready. I suggest you just tell her you’re there for her, and wait until she’s ready to tell you.”

“If she ever will be.” Steve points out, and Sam nods. Noticing the nervous expression still on Bucky’s face, Steve sighs. “Look, we know how much you want to help, but there’s nothing you can do right now, and you can’t force her to do anything. You’ll be more of a hero by waiting until she’s ready.” With a sigh of his own, Bucky nods. Despite how much he wants to help Y/N, he knows that they’re both right.

All he can do now is just hope that Y/N’s okay.

A few nights later, Bucky stands outside his apartment, listening to Sam and Steve bickering about where the trio is going for dinner. As their argument fades into static, Bucky huffs. God. Although he enjoys spending time with his two best friends (even though he’d rather die than tell them that) he would also much rather be anywhere but here at this moment.

But suddenly, a voice cuts through the air, one familiar and warm. And to be honest, at that moment, it sounds like an angel sent from above.

“Hey Bucky.” Y/N smiles, walking past the group with another armful of books in her hands.

“Hey Y/N. More reading material?”

“As always.” She chuckles. “It never stops.” Honestly, Bucky doesn’t even remember that Steve and Sam are beside him until the former jokingly jabs him in the ribs.

“Are you going to stop grinning like an idiot and introduce us, or…?” He trails off, grinning. Bucky registers his cheeks flashing slightly pink, and he has to suppress a groan, already anticipating how much Steve and Sam will tease him for this.

“Oh, right. Y/N, these are my friends, Steve and Sam.” He introduces, and Y/N shakes both of their hands.

“So, this is the famous Y/N who made those incredible cookies.” Sam smiles. “Bucky was right, you’re very talented.”

“Oh, well, thank you.” Y/N smiles, still slightly surprised by the compliment. “I’ll be sure to bake some more for Bucky to give you, then.”

“If he doesn’t eat them all first, that is.” Steve quips, and the group laughs.

“I did not!” Bucky protests. “Okay, I may have had one or two extra.” As the laughter fades out, an idea pops into Bucky’s head. “Hey Y/N, do you have any plans tonight?”

“Not really, just reading and trying to pick paint swatches and furniture for the coffee shop. It’s going to be a fun night.” She chuckles.

“Well, the three of us are going out for some dinner, and you’re more than welcome to join us. I’m sure these two won’t mind.” The words leave Bucky’s mouth without another thought. Of course, he knows that Steve and Sam are nice and welcoming enough to not care about another guest at the table… but he hopes that she’ll get along with them, because it’s important that she feels comfortable around them both, and vice versa. Most of all, though, Bucky also knows that the fact he was so keen to invite her will surely lead to more jokes and teasing at his expense.

“No, I don’t want to intrude on you guys or your night. You have fun.” She reassures them, waving them off. Despite how nice it would be to spend time with Bucky and his friends, deep down, Y/N’s terrified of making a fool of herself, of having everyone see her as a loser and leaving her. Especially Bucky. Yet, she’s already used to being alone, so she might as well start now.

“Seriously, it’s okay.” He reassures, smiling the whole time. That damn smile of his that makes something deep in her stomach flutter and her heart beat just that little faster.

“No. Fuck being afraid. You said you wanted to start fresh and not let him control your life anymore, so do it.” She tells herself. “Okay, that sounds great.” Bucky grins, his smile even wider than before. “Can you give me five minutes to dump these?” The trio nod, and Y/N hurries back to her apartment.

Once inside, she dashes around from room to room, touching up her makeup and spraying some extra spritzes of perfume. Glancing in the mirror, Y/N wonders if she should change her outfit or even redo her entire makeup look. “Stop trying so hard. It’s going to look obvious.” Burying that voice once more, Y/N grabs her bag and goes back out.

“You look great.” Bucky smiles.

“She’s wearing the same outfit, Buck.” Steve points out, and Bucky’s face goes red. Y/N chuckles, but can’t stop herself from smiling.

“Well, thank you Bucky. You all look great, too.” As the group leaves Y/N and Bucky’s building, Y/N takes a deep breath.

Here goes nothing.

“So, I took these two fishing… I figured, since we’re in New Orleans, they should try, right?” Sam explains, and Y/N nods.

“Absolutely not. We are not telling this story.” Bucky shakes his head, and Steve nods, agreeing with him.

“Oh, no. Sam’s already started telling me, and I want to know what happens!”

“Thank you, Y/N! I like her already.” Sam grins. “It was all going well until someone slipped and fell off the pier.”

“It was slippery!” Steve exclaims, making Y/N giggle.

“So he grabbed Bucky to steady himself, and well….”

“That’s why we don’t go fishing anymore.” Bucky finishes. Laughter fills the air, and soon Y/N is laughing with them, already feeling herself calming down. Honestly, she’s glad she came out tonight despite her initial reservations. Steve and Sam are so friendly and funny, and she feels that she can let her guard down more around them. “We all set for another round?” Bucky suggests, and the group nods.

“Let me get this one Bucky, as a thanks for inviting me.” Y/N offers.

“Nope. Put your money away, I’ve got it.” Bucky orders, disappearing to the bar before she can protest any more. “So, how long have you two known Bucky for?” She asks, changing the subject, hoping to ward off any impending awkwardness now Bucky is gone. Comfortable or not, she’s still practically a stranger to Sam and Steve.

“Well, I’ve known him for years… it feels like hundreds by this point.” Steve chuckles, and Sam smirks. It strikes Y/N as an inside joke amongst the trio, something she’s not yet privy to. Maybe one day, she’ll find out. It’d be nice to spend more time with Bucky and his friends, and maybe have inside jokes of their own. To have more connecting her to New York than her new coffee shop.

“And I’ve known him for about ten years. Actually, that reminds me of the first time we met-”

“Thank you.” Bucky slides over the money for the drinks. When he turns around to take them back to the table, he sees Y/N and the guys, smiling and laughing. And once again, Bucky Barnes can’t help but smile. He’s so glad that Y/N’s getting on so well with Steve and Sam, arguably the two most important people in his life now. Maybe, Y/N will end up being just as important, and as present in his life as they are.

Honestly, Bucky loves that thought.

“What are you smiling at?” Sam asks when he gets back to the table.

“Oh, nothing.” Bucky muses. “Nothing at all.”

“Thank you for inviting me tonight, Bucky. I had a lot of fun.” Y/N smiles when they’re back home. After a while of being with Bucky and his friends, her original awkwardness and apprehension faded away. She still has a long way to go before she finally feels like she belongs here… but this is a pretty big step.

“You’re welcome. I just hope Sam and Steve didn’t tell you too many embarrassing stories about me. Gotta maintain my cool image.” Y/N chuckles. Honestly, she doesn’t think anything could change her opinion of Bucky, or make him seem like anything other than the kind, welcoming guy she knows him as.

“Not at all. Actually, it’s great how you three have known each other for so long. Steve actually said it felt like hundreds of years.” And with that, Bucky’s stomach drops. Little does Y/N know it is actually closer to 100 years than she thinks. Not that he remembers much of it, though. Constantly being brainwashed will do that to you. Then, a reminder dawns, one that makes his stomach begin to churn.

Y/N doesn’t know about The Avengers. And if he tells her about that… then he has to tell her about The Winter Soldier too. Of course, telling his new cute neighbour who only just got round to trusting him about how he was responsible for so much death and carnage is not something Bucky wants to do… but he knows he has to. Besides, it’ll no doubt come up soon enough, and Bucky would rather Y/N hear it from him, rather than the news or from the next supervillain The Avengers have to stop.

‘Well, I think I’m gonna go to bed. I’ll see you around, Bucky.”

“No, wait.” He calls, stopping her. Bucky takes a nervous, shaky breath, feeling his heartbeat increasing rapidly.

“Yeah?”

“I have something I need to tell you.”

Again, I’m not going to have a separate taglist for this story because whenever I’ve tried to make one in the past, it never seems to tag people. So please follow @onceuponastory-library and turn on notifications so you don’t miss any of the chapters!

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #something sweet onceuponastory #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #Bucky Barnes x female reader #bucky x Female Reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction

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anti-endo-haven · 1 month

Note

Tws:, gaslighting and manipulation, emotional incest (?), online grooming (Im so sorry if there's more I forgot, pls stay safe <3)

today's been a very stressful day so far, our step mother messaged the body's younger sister telling her how depressed our bio father was because we (us and our siblings) haven't seen/talked to him in a while, so the drama with my bio father has triggered a lot of memories that I hate, tbh almost any mention of him does, especially bc then we started talking about how my therapist thinks our bio father is a pedo, it doesn't help that I'm already a trauma holder for similar trauma, like it's brought up memories of the time our bio father would randomly just squeeze our hips, or the times he would grab us by our hips and pull us against him while we were cuddling, as well as the time he made me put on my bathing suit and basically model it for him to make sure it was "appropriate" it was a two piece and I had already tried it on, he made me do this in front of our siblings, it doesn't help that this happened around the time the trauma I hold happened, I hold our online grooming trauma, it happened from when we were around 10 until about 13, it doesn't help that because of this trauma ive been hypersexual since I was 10, I feel so disgusting and gross, I feel tainted, I want to rip my skin off but there's nothing I can do about it now, I'm sorry this was so long, I just needed to vent and get this off my chest

(💊 from the rainbow system)

It isn’t your fault that you’re not talking to an abuser. Your step-mother is in the wrong completely for trying to weaponize depression against you. He dug his grave, he can lay in it. He is disgusting and has hurt kids that he was supposed to care for.

Try and find some things that can help you destress and provide some happiness. I know it might not be much, but even a little help can do some wonders.

It’s vile behavior that he did and you didn’t deserve that. None of that was your fault. His actions are his own and you were trying to live and survive.

I’m sorry you went through all of that so young, the internet can be terrible and there’s so many people that will harm others. You don’t deserve to be hurt like that, you didn’t deserve to be hurt like that.

You’re not disgusting or gross, it’s sad that it’s a product of what happened, but you’re doing an excellent job. I’m proud of you. You’re good enough. You’re not a disappointment, you’re not a mistake, you’re not a failure. You’re a survivor and we will always stick together. If you need to cut your stepmother out of your life to be able to do better mentally, do so if you’re able.

If you’re able, see if a luke warm or preferred temperature bath can help. Add some music in the background. Bath bomb if you have one, use some body wash for bubbles, small things to make it a little better. Just to relax. This is completely optional and I know it doesn’t work for everyone. We use these as a more serene thing, saying that the water is washing away what we don’t want to be there, the bubbles are a form of soap which is helping wash it away. The music is to help ground us. Again, it’s completely optional and it might not help so 100% try and find something that can help ground you when you’re able to.

Much love from us! You’re doing everything you can and you’re doing great. ❤️

Have a cookie!

🍪

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athenasparrow · 1 year

Text

@jilymicrofics | February 2023 Prompts | No 5 - Bubble

Words: 501 | Rating M

Read on AO3

James lived in a good neighbourhood. He was a lucky sort of lad who had enough money in his bank account to buy a nice warehouse conversion on a nice leafy street with neighbours who baked cookies, had colourful drawings their children had made hanging in their windows and dogs barking in their yard.

James did not live in a high crime area.

It was for this reason that he was surprised to find his door wide open upon returning home.

It was true that he’d left the door open. Because he was just popping out to return the casserole dish to Mrs Figg across the road. She made a scrumptious lasagna.

James stepped forward cautiously. “Hello?”

James may have thought it was Padfoot or Moony, but they were currently on their honeymoon and his mother was off in Paris for the weekend.

He stared at the floor, his eyes seeing a red strappy shoe, but his brain couldn’t comprehend what it was doing in his hallway at 10pm.

James took a step forward towards the heel, noting its partner lay three feet ahead.

He paused as he heard the distinct sound of a splash coming from the vicinity of the bathroom.

His feet carried him to the doorway where he stopped and stared.

There, sitting in his bathtub beaming at him was a redheaded woman that looked about his age and was honest to god the most beautiful woman James had ever seen.

“Hello” she said beaming up at him.

“Umm hello?” James said, determinedly avoiding looking at the point her breasts swelled before they dipped under the cover of the numerous bubbles.

“I’m Lily” she said sticking her hand out like it was a completely normal thing to do, break into someones house, get naked into their bath and then introduce herself.

James figured that weird or not, it would be rude to deny her his hand and stepped forward.

His nose told him what his eyes should have deduced. This woman was smashed.

Now that his nose had smelled it, he noticed the bottle of vodka she’d been carrying with her, now discarded on his bathroom floor.

“James” he said, keeping all these observations to himself.

“I know” the redhead, Lily, giggled up at him.

“You do?” James said in surprise, confident that if he’d ever met this woman in his life he would definitely remember her, naked or not.

She was dazzling.

“Mmmhmm” Lily hummed as she picked up a palmful of bubbles and gently blew them towards him.

James batted them away, trying to keep back the laugh that was threatening to brew on his face.

“Really” he said raising his eyebrows at her.

Lily nodded vigorously.

“I saw you and your friends outside last week” she said as if this explained it all “I’ve just moved in to number 3 with my friends” she informed him “So I thought I’d come over and introduce myself”

James lost his battle and felt his laughter break free.

#jily fic #jily oneshot #jily microfic #jily #athenasparrow #athena's microfics #athena's library

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fleet-off · 8 months

Note

hi fleet!! for fic writer asks, 💫🎀💋💌

oh gosh! I'm not actually playing this ask game, I just reblogged one of Cookie @snickerdoodlles 's answers lol--but since you ask, anon, I will answer! Gonna take these mildly out of order.

💌 share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

I've been having a lot of thoughts lately about Vegas getting off to super mundane things re: Pete. The moment his body has the energy, this man is getting hard at the drop of a hat, you know? He's discovering kinks he didn't realize could be kinks. One morning he's in the closet rifling through Pete's checkered tops, all mixed in amongst his own silks and velvets—finds himself thinking about the ways they've blended, the mesh of their lives draping together to form one whole here in this home that belongs to both of them—and suddenly he's half-mast like a fucking teenager. Pete isn't even home. (It'd be embarrassing except it's Pete, and it would be weirder not to get chubbed up watching him gargle his mouthwash before bed. His cheeks are ballooned out and he's making funny shapes with his eyebrows and everything. Vegas wants to be the spit in his mouth.) Anyway. I've been funneling my feelings about Vegas's mundane obsessive obscene interests into my unusual dirty talk WIP, because the underlying desire in all of this is "can I weave my way into all the private quiet little pieces of you, can I be a part of you and you a part of me?" It's been a blast to write!

💫 what is your favorite kind of comment/feedback?

Truly any comment makes me very happy, but the comments that reflect moments of connection stick with me for a long time. When someone expresses how they related to an element of the story (e.g. "Death scares me, but this story didn't") or mentions rereading--I recognize what that means, and I feel so grateful to have intersected with another person's heart even in passing. Likewise, analysis and commentary are such expressions of connection and love for a work, with the bonus that I get to go feral in the response! If you come to me with parallels or symbolism, I will kiss you very tenderly on the mouth (and probably drop some BTS deets).

🎀give yourself a compliment about your own writing.

Ai...okay, I'll try. 😅 Most of my stories are about the whole "learning to live, learning to exist as people" thing, which means they're ultimately an exercise in catharsis. I think I make that catharsis feel earned and worthwhile.

💋when you leave comments on a fic, do you want to hear back from the writer?

I have no expectations there. I love the connections I've made through comment conversations, but there are so many reasons a writer might not respond to comments (and honestly, writers don't owe a reason at all). Why lay unnecessary extra pressure on someone's shoulders? she says, absolutely pressuring herself about taking too long to answer the comments on her own fics...

Thanks for the ask, anon! I wasn't playing the ask game, but I did have fun answering these. :)

#asks #ask game #(accidentally)#fanfiction #kinnporsche #vegaspete

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ferraricatt · 4 months

Text

Rotten Teeth pt3

She takes her shoes off, kicking them to the side as she takes a nostalgic sigh. Not the kind that was irritated but like she had missed being at my house. I don’t know what she sees in it though. It’s nothing more than shelter. The only personality within is the couch and fireplace.

“God, It’s so dusty in here - Esfir why don’t you ever take the time to just thoroughly clean the house?” Elisei put a goodie bag of chocolate chip cookies on the kitchen counter.

“You can clean it then if it’s ticking you off.”

I roll my eyes, grievances after another. Elisei puffs her cheeks; Hand on her hips before lunging at my couch.

The couch is leather, Brown with some permanent scratches on it. The scratches were from me because I liked to make designs on them, I stopped shortly after my father made me sleep outside in the cold so I would learn a lesson. Unlike Elisei I find that couch discomforting; A touch of irritating piece of leather.

“I worked hard on those cookies, You should try it!”

Hesitantly I steer my direction to that sorrow pity gift of cookies.

“Will I get poisoned?” I ask jokingly.

“Maybe.”

“You only live once.”

I unravel the clear plastic bag, She used a cheap ribbon bow to tie it all up together. This felt sadder by the minute.

Step by step I grab a cookie with one hand - Then I took a bite of it.

“it’s hard.” I say trying to finish my mid-bite of the stale cookie.

“It’s a cookie.” She responds snarky as ever. Distracted by her fingers, she plays with them. Cracking her knuckles and other such gestures. I set the cookie aside, on the counter, Before walking up to her and sitting at the end of the couch; Using the arm rest to lay my head on my head.

“I wanted to do more than apologizing, y’know.” I perk my head, What does she mean by that? Slowly I look at her, an eyebrow raised.

“Elaborate.”

Elisei sighed, sitting up with a somber look to her face. “Well, I mean,” We both make eye contact. Interlocking expressions to each other.

“Hear about that debate girl from Mr. Semenov?”

“Uhh..Don’t remind me who…” My head searches for names in his class. Debate club? Couldn’t be majority of the girls in that class, most of them do sports or fine arts.

It hits me, I snap my finger. “Oh-“

“Maria!”

“Yeah, What about her?”

Elisei shifts on the couch, Uncomfortably.

“Did she move schools?”

Elisei shakes her head no.

“Pregnant?”

“God, no!” Elisei scrunched her face, sticking her tongue out. “I can’t even imagine her getting pregnant. She’s the most conservative person out there!”

“Then what is it Elisei?”

“She’s dead.” The mood swiftly changed, The atmosphere having to recollect itself bit by bit. That feeling deep down in your stomach, It just drops. Part of yourself can’t believe, the other finds it so unlikely to happen.

“Wait - What do you mean dead?” Elisei’s eyes widened, hopping off the couch and grabbing her bag. A huff escaping her lips as she scrolled through her bag. Elisei grabbed a rolled up paper; The schools newspaper. I never bother to read it.

She passed it to me, On the page lied headers bolded. Every image black and white. Right beyond the headlines however was the biggest one of them all, In the direct middle:

Local High Schooler found dead in School Dumpster!: Maria Agafonov!

Chills ignited down my spine. I never really knew her that well. But the thought of seeing that school dumpster, Bearing the thought a student was bundled in there. Dead. What the hell…

“What-“

Elisei grabbed the paper back, staring at the present photo of Maria’s yearbook photo from last year. She had black hair, slicked back into a bun. Maria always wore pale lipstick and in that photo it’s like you can barely see her lips.

“That’s shocking.”

“Wait, Why didn’t they cancel school today? When was this?”

“Just yesterday, The paper was published today. This afternoon.” Elisei tries to change the mood. “They also have uh, Cookie recipes on there if my cooking still sucks.”

“Not now Elisei, Bad timing.” I rub my temples with two fingers on each hand. Looking down at the ground. I didn’t know her well and quite frankly I don’t cry when it comes to these things.

“But why didn’t they cancel school?” That question stay still in my head.

“The schools looking into it, I guess they just didn’t want to get the news out.”

“Fair enough.” I sigh, lifting my head up and leaning back on the couch. “Shit.” I’m neither sad or angry. Just chilled to the bone.

A moment of silence passes, If it was one thing or another. The fact that someone from our school just got murdered definitely made the mood die.

I roll my head to the side, dropping it down to look at Elisei. She’s biting the inside of her cheek.

“They have cookie recipes on there?”

Eliseis eyes look bright, maybe too bright for me. She nods.

“Let’s make some cookies then.”

I hop off the couch, dragging my feet to the kitchen as she followed along with that crumbled paper that held such news.

“I’ll make sure you don’t burn my house down.”

Elisei smiled slightly, nudging me on the side before scrolling along the catalogue of recipes.

#storytelling #original story #original character #silly #writing #whatarehashtags #chapter

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thy-fucks-runneth-dry · 1 year

Text

Um, dois, três, quatro

No quick head in my bed I can't have that

I want that long neck not talking giraffe neck

Ain't no laying down man we 'bout to have late fun

I'm 'bout to make your balls stick up like space buns

Want your dick soaked? Place it down my throat

Tongue tickle yo' dick but not telling a joke

Peddle in this pussy that's how you rock a boat

It get live in this pussy, I'm not talking Periscope

In the sheets I am a bully

Give more head than a hoodie

Every time you make me cum it look just like vanilla pudding

Sit on yo face all day until you say, "Bae, it hurt me"

Then I turn around and give the dick more kisses than Hershey's

Yo' dick brick-hard like a medal (uh)

I got three holes for it like a pretzel (mhm)

Tight as a virgin boy don't get nervous (tight)

I'm here to serve you customer service (right)

I save dick by giving it CPR

(I save dick by giving it CPR, yes)

Put my mouth on it like CPR

(Let's make porn and watch it on VCR)

I think we should fuck up in every zip code

It would make my pussy wetter than a fishbowl

Pussy a kitty cat, I pet it like a pet

I fuck doggy style so much I need to go to the vet

Hotbox? More like a scorching pussy

Open this coochie up like a fortune cookie

Yo' banana in my mouth watch my tongue go ape

Yo' dick getting more blows than a birthday cake

When I'm near it, no, I don't fear it

Licking on that penis like a letter when I seal it

Today way wetter than my past slob

And if you unemployed, I can give you a ass job

Pussy already wet don't need no lube ointment

Dick twisting in my stomach like food poisoning

That's how you know when you hit the spot

I'll make your pants unzip more than Ziploc

Yo' dick brick-hard like a medal (uh)

I got three holes for it like a pretzel (mhm)

Tight as a virgin boy don't get nervous (tight)

I'm here to serve you customer service (right)

I save dick by giving it CPR

(I save dick by giving it CPR, yes)

Put my mouth on it like CPR

(Let's make porn and watch it on VCR)

Anything goes when you up in my hole

Dirty panties from the sex, yeah, I got me some loads

Listen, I'm the most explicit

Long stick inside my river but we not going fishing

Know what to do every time you have a horrible day

I'll eat that sausage all day like it's Memorial Day

I'm talking BBQ sauce and mustard on it

And the mayonnaise comes when you bust right on it

Name anything freaky and you know I'm 'bout that shit

Only time I'm not on the dick is when I'm 'bout to shit

Pubic hairs all in my mouth, not again

So when I suck yo' dick now, I use bobby pins

Who need a gym when you got dick to work you out?

I want my face to lose weight so stroke my mouth

And any time my pussy wanna be hairy like Harry Potter

Becky with the good hair is what you could call her

Let's get it

A little faster

A little more

Right there

Give it to me now

(Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh)

(Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh)

Ur speed running getting block I swear fr lmao

#submission

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banannabethchase · 11 months

Text

Set the World Alight - Chapter 6 (link to AO3)

It's Christmas and New Year's, and Matt and Nick have a whole lot of feelings in this week.

I am unable to resist a New Year's Eve scene, even when I'm writing in May, it appears.

Tuesday, December 25th

Nick

He wakes up to something smacking him on the chest.

“What the fuck?” he mumbles.

“It’s Christmas!” Matt says. Nick’s eyes settle to see his sister on his stomach, bouncing slightly. “Hi. Wake up.”

“Why do you hate me this much?” Nick whines, shifting so he can roll Matt onto the floor. To his disappointment, she rolls with it and lands on her feet.

“Do I look okay?” she asks. She’s wearing a black Deftones shirt that must be Mox’s and a pair of blue and purple pajama pants.

“Uh. Yeah?” Nick pushes himself up in bed. “Why?”

Matt turns just the tiniest bit pink. “These are, um. These are girl pants.”

“Yeah,” Nick says slowly. “’Cause you’re a girl.”

“No, like. Mox got them for me for Christmas.” She smiles a little, the pink growing stronger. “He said they were cute and he thought I’d like them.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Nick whines. “I wanted to sleep in.”

“Are they too girly?” Matt asks. “Like, is it gonna be obviously they’re girl pants?”

“Matt,” Nick says, “I promise. You could wear a shirt that says ‘I’m a girl’ and Mom and Dad wouldn’t look twice. You’re good.”

Matt relaxes. “Okay. Yeah.” She nods. “Thanks, Nicky. Love you.”

“Ugh, go away.”

He shoves the pillow over his head and locks the door behind Matt. Forget that they share the room – she can go nap on the couch.

The rest of Christmas goes by without incident. Like he’d guessed, their parents say nothing about Matt’s pants.

“Are you two still having Adam and Kenny over tomorrow for your Christmas cookies?” their mom asks. She’s curled up against their dad’s side on the couch, halfway through the third run through of How the Grinch Stole Christmas.

Matt nods absently from where she’s in front of the coffee table, putting together the giant puzzle Nick had gotten her. “Yeah,” she says. “I mean, I think so.”

“I’ll text them,” Nick says. Seeing his parents together, seeing Matt in Mox’s tee shirt and the pants he’d gotten her for Christmas. It makes Nick feel strangely alone.

You two dorks still coming over tomorrow?

Adam texts back first, like always. Yeah! 11, right?

Cool see you then. Kenny???

Kenny doesn’t text back until 4:30, but Nick and Matt aren’t surprised. He’s still trying to pretend he’s not spending the afternoon at Kota’s house.

“I don’t know why he’s trying so hard to keep it a secret,” Matt says, primly moving the puzzle pieces around. “It’s not like we don’t all know.”

“It’s his to share,” their mom says, and Nick catches her eye for long enough that he thinks he sees something there. “When Kenny’s ready, he’ll tell you.”

Nick hopes Matt heard that.

“Can I help you?” Nick asks, sliding to the floor next to Matt. He reaches out to grab a piece.

“No!” she shrieks, slapping his hand out of the way. “Go away! You’ll ruin it!”

“You’re the worst,” Nick mumbles. But he stays next to her, anyway.

Wednesday, December 26th

Nick

“I’m so full,” Kenny groans, flopped on his back in the middle of the living room. “This is hell. Why did you do this to me, Matt?”

“This is absolutely not my fault,” Matt says. She’s face down on the floor next to Kenny, legs curled up underneath her. Nick is doing everything he can not to kick her directly in her sticking up butt. “All I did was bake the cookies. You’re the one who gave yourself salmonella by eating all that cookie dough.”

“Adam, does it happen this early?” Kenny asks, rolling over to see Adam, who is scrolling on his phone.

“Does what happen?” Adam asks. He shifts, resting his legs over Nick’s lap. Nick is normal about it.

“Salmonella,” Kenny says. He rolls over on his side, gripping his stomach. “I hurt. I hurt everywhere.”

“Lay on your left side,” Adam says, setting his phone down. “Helps with digestion. I think. It might be the right side.”

“Oh, thanks, for being fifty-fifty on a way to save me from death,” Kenny says. “Matt, punch Adam for me.”

“Can’t,” she mumbles. “Still dying.”

“Nick, do what your brother isn’t brave enough to do and punch Adam,” Kenny grumbles.

Matt flails and shifts, turning to them. “Oh. Uh. About that.” She glances over to Adam who’s put his phone away. He’s also taken his legs off of Nick’s lap to go sit on the floor next to Matt, but Nick can be not jealous about that. He follows, scooting up next to Adam. “I’m not his brother.”

Kenny sits up, baffled. “You’re adopted?”

“God, you’re obtuse,” Matt says fondly. She pats Kenny on the cheek. “No, you beautiful dumbass. I’m a girl.”

Kenny blinks. Nick’s reminded a little of a confused husky with the way he tilts his head to the side. “You’re a girl?”

“Yeah,” Matt says, and Nick can watch the confidence shrink away from her. “I, um. It’s pretty new. But I’ve been trying to find a good time to tell you.” She shrugs. “So. Now you know.”

Kenny slowly breaks into a smile. “I think I knew that,” he says.

“What?”

“I – I can’t explain it,” Kenny says, “but, like, way back in fifth grade, when we all had that one sleepover?”

“One sleepover?” Adam asks. “We had, like, three hundred.”

“I know which one,” Matt says, turning a little pink. “Um. Yeah. I remember.”

“I didn’t say anything, because, like, wasn’t my thing,” Kenny says, “but Matt…” he trails off.

“I found one of Kenny’s mom’s dresses and put it on,” Matt adds. “I don’t – well, now I know why, but then I didn’t. And Kenny found me and just told me I looked good in blue.” She beams at him. “I didn’t know you remembered.”

“I didn’t, until just now,” Kenny says. “But, yeah. Got a name you want me to call you?”

Matt shakes her head. “Not – not yet. I’m still Matt. But a girl.”

“Matt but a girl,” Kenny says. “I can work with that.” He takes both of Matt’s hands in his and leans close to her. “Matt but a girl,” he says, “you fucking suck and you tried to kill me with your cookie dough.”

The four of them collapse in a pile of hysterical laughter, and Nick, not for the first time, is so glad they have each other.

Tuesday December 31st

Matt

“Okay,” she says, shaking out her hands. “Okay, I can do this. I’m gonna wear boy clothes and that’s okay because I’m not a boy, I’m just a girl wearing boy clothes.” He stares at the skinny jeans and the blue polo on his bed. “I can do this.”

There’s a knock on his door and she jumps half a foot. “Who is it?”

“It’s Nick.” The door pokes open and her brother’s hand waves. “Can I come in?”

Matt, dressed in a pair of plaid pajama pants and the Scene Queen shirt her mom had gotten her for Christmas, sighs. “Yeah, I’m good. Come in.”

Nick pushes open the door slowly, looking hesitant with a half smile on his lips. “You okay?”

“I – sure?” She doesn’t mean for it to be a question.

Nick looks on the bed. “Those jeans are – cute,” he says. He frowns, like he’s not sure those are the words he meant to say. “I mean, they’re good. They. I don’t know what to say.”

Matt sighs, sitting on the bed and blowing hair out of her face. “They’re fine,” she says. “But they’re boy pants. I’m going into the new year with boy pants.”

“Well,” Nick says. When Matt looks at him, his brow is furrowed, the way he gets when he’s super into a basketball game. “Okay, technically, they’re girl pants. Since you’re a girl and they’re yours, right?”

Matt considers it. “Huh.”

“And you – I mean, remember that shirt Aunt Marissa got me for Christmas?” He lights up. “Wait. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”

“Where would I go?” Matt asks, baffled. “It’s four a clock on New Year’s Eve!” She hears some weird banging and a few thuds before Nick yells, “I got it!” and thunders down the hallway. He skids to a halt right in front of Matt, holding something bright and floral patterned in his hand. “Here.” He shoves it into Matt’s chest.

Matt catches it. “Um. Thanks?”

“It’s the shirt!” Nick says, excited. “Remember? I opened it and I was like, ‘Um, thanks,’ because it’s from the woman’s department and doesn’t fit me quite right.” He grins. “Come on. Try it. I think it might – I think you might like it.”

Matt nods. “Okay,” she says. Her voice is small. “Okay, yeah. Get out.”

“What?”

“Go away,” Matt says. She kicks at Nick’s shins. “I gotta change. Get out.”

“Jesus, I’m going, I’m going.” Nick flips her off over his shoulder. Worth it.

Matt pulls on the jeans – the jeans that are girl jeans simply because she herself is a girl, she reminds herself – and then pulls the shirt over her head. She’s never allowed herself to wear something like flowers before. It felt too much like a confession she wasn’t ready to make.

She’s ready, now.

She thinks she’d look better with some boobs, as she often thinks about any shirt she puts on, but she spins a little and looks at herself in the mirror, and feels a little more like herself.

“Can I come in yet?” Nick asks. “I wanted to borrow that button down green shirt.”

“No,” Matt says as she pulls it out of the closet.

“Why not?!” Nick whines, stomping his feet a little.

Matt chucks the shirt at his chest. “Jeez, quit whining. Yeah, you can borrow the shirt. Calm down.”

“You’re impossible,” Nick grumbles, but he pulls off his tee shirt in favor of the button up. “The shirt looks good on you, by the way.”

“It does?” Matt asks. She smooths her hands over the front of the shirt, and nudges Nick out of the way to get a better look at herself in the mirror. “It’s not too – too girl?”

“Isn’t that what you’re going for?” Nick asks. He does the last two buttons, then undoes them, then does one of them and messes with the collar. “You know. Girl?”

Matt opens her mouth, then closes it again. “Oh. Right. I forgot that was, like, the whole point.”

Nick smiles at her, and it’s soft and genuine and annoyingly kind. “You’re allowed to be you, Matty,” he says. “I’m gonna steal your clothes no matter what.” He claps her on the shoulder. “I bothered you when I thought you were my brother and I’m gonna be even worse now that I know you’re my sister.”

“That – that doesn’t help, Nick.”

He shrugs. “Kind of the point.”

“Hey, wait.” Matt follows him as he walks out of their bedroom. “What’s the whole plan for tonight?”

“Uh,” Nick says, shoving Matt a little so he can go down the stairs first, like a big ol’ brat. “Snacks? Watch terrible music on the New Year’s Eve shows? Yelling at midnight?”

“I mean with Adam,” Matt says. “Are you finally gonna kiss him?”

“I – what?!” Nick exclaims. “Ew. No. I don’t want to kiss Adam. Gross.”

“That would be convincing if you were a seven year old girl,” Matt says, pushing him into a wall.

“Hey!”

“You’re just chicken,” Matt says. “Ask Adam out, you dumbass.”

“Mom!” Nick yells, like a baby. “Mom, Matt’s pushing me!”

“Nick’s being a baby.”

Their mom glares at both of them. “Knock it off, boys.”

Nick immediately stills and throws a smile back at Matt. It’s appreciated. But still annoying.

Nick

“I am not going to kiss Adam at midnight!” Nick hisses over the fire. He pulls his jacket tighter around himself.

“I think you should,” Mox says. Matt’s curled up in his lap and they’re wrapped in the biggest, fuzziest blanket the Jacksons have. It feels unfair. “I mean, he’s clearly in love with you.”

“He is,” Willow says.

“He is not!” Nick says. “You guys are the worst.”

“I don’t see the problem here, Nick,” Claudio says. Stupid perfect European looking all comfortable in the 30 degree weather. “If the two of you like each other, why not make it official?”

“We don’t – I don’t like him,” Nick snaps. “He’s my best friend. I like spending time with him and playing with his goats!”

“So that’s what the kids call it these days,” Jamie whispers, but not quietly enough.

“I’m going to kill you, Jamie,” Nick says, flopping into a chair, unable to keep himself from pouting. “I’m gonna trip you on the court, and then do a magic spell, and turn you into a basketball.”

“Why is Nick committing murder and witchcraft?”

Nick slides off the bench onto the snowy ground as Adam walks in. He looks like a Greek god or something, backlit by the outdoor house lighting, and Nick is. Nick might be wrong about the not liking him thing. Damn it.

Kenny walks in behind Adam. Nick resists the urge to make fun of him for being a permanent passenger princess since swearing off driving the year before after an incident with a mailbox on his way to Kota. Kenny still thinks that nobody knows that’s where he was going.

“She was going into unreasonable detail about going down on Britt in the locker room,” Riho pipes in. Nick owes her a million dollars. And maybe another one of those bows she likes.

Adam wrinkles his nose. “Yeah, I’m too gay for that conversation. Nick, why’re you on the ground?” He reaches down and hauls Nick up like it’s nothing, and Nick feels like he’s about to explode.

“He fell,” Matt offers.

“I mean,” Adam says, slowly, “yeah? Obviously?”

“Maybe I wanted to sit in the snow, Matt,” Nick snipes. “Ever think of that.”

“Oh, here they go,” Adam says. But he keeps his arm pressed up against Nick’s while they sit, almost too close, on the bench.

“Who are you kissing at midnight?” Matt asks, sliding up next to Nick two minutes until midnight.

“Nobody,” Nick grumbles. “Leave me alone.”

“You should talk to Adam,” she says, bouncing on her toes. “Seriously. I think he likes you.”

“He doesn’t,” Nick insists. He turns to Matt, who looks so eager it almost makes him sick. “Please, Matty. I – I need you to back off on this.”

She shrinks back immediately, looking hurt with her eyes all big. Nick hates that look. Makes him feel bad. “I’m sorry,” she says, voice quiet. “I just. I don’t want you to go into the new year all pouty.”

“Fine, I’ll kiss Claudio,” Nick says, rolling his eyes. “Okay? I’ll kiss Claudio.”

“That’s…Claudio’s straight.”

“And?” Nick says, shrugging. “So are you.”

Matt’s misery disappears and is replaced with a dreamy sort of smile. “Yeah, I am,” she sighs. “I’m – I’m gonna go find Mox.” And she practically floats away.

It’s a minute to midnight, and Nick is stupid, so he walks up to Claudio.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

“Can we kiss at midnight?”

Claudio blinks. “Um. Really?”

Nick nods. “I mean, why not? You’re the only one of us on the team who hasn’t kissed one of the other members, you know? Fun little way to start the new year.”

Claudio stares at him. And stares. And Nick’s beginning to wonder if he’s going to start the New Year getting beaten up by a giant Swiss god. “Alright,” Claudio says, shrugging. “Are you thinking a little peck? Or the whole deal?”

“Up to you,” Nick says. “I haven’t been kissed since, like, July.”

“Well we can’t have that, now, can we.” Claudio glances over to TV. “Thirty seconds.”

Nick nods. “Yup.”

They all count down together, Adam on the side with Willow and Riho, and Nick doesn’t think about how he instinctively knew where he was.

“Three, two, one! Happy New Year!”

“Pucker up, Nicholas,” Claudio says with a big grin.

Nick finds himself hauled in by huge arms and kissed with a focus that he didn’t expect from a straight man. When Claudio pulls back, Nick is pretty sure his entire brain just broke.

“Damn,” he manages to mumble. “Wow.”

“Don’t go falling in love with me, Nick,” Claudio says with a wink. “My heart is sadly stolen by boobs.”

“Cheers to that!” Jamie yells, hand up Britt’s shirt.

Nick glances around the room, gaze settling on Adam who looks…sad? Confused? Stressed? He wishes he could read that expression. He doesn’t know what it means, only that it makes his heart ache.

“Happy New Year!” Nick yells across the room.

Adam nods and takes a sip from his water bottle, and is quiet the rest of the night until they all fall asleep, piled together, on the living room floor.

Matt

Matt and Mox have snuck away to the den while the rest of the party celebrates in the living room, squished together in Matt’s mom’s home office. Hands are everywhere, and Matt is pretty sure she’d be willing to do something incredibly stupid if it wasn’t everyone she knew in this house right now who could walk in at any second.

Mox pulls back, breathing heavily. “We – we should.” He exhales. Matt’s a little pleased to see his pupils blown entirely. “I need to step away before I go insane.”

“I make you insane?” Matt teases. She leans back against her mom’s desk, running her tongue along her lips.

“When you do shit like that, yeah, you do.” Mox runs a hand through his shaggy hair. “Jesus, what’d I ever do to get a New Year’s Eve like this.” He smiles. “Best girlfriend ever.”

Matt sparkles with the praise, with the term, with the identity. “Yeah? You’re the best boyfriend ever.” She steps toward him. “I want to go back out before the ball drops, though.”

“I have a horrible joke about my balls I would make right now, but I won’t make it,” Mox says. His smile is crooked. Matt has to kiss it.

When they pull back to breathe again, Matt reaches for the door.

“You think Nick’s gonna kiss Adam?” Mox asks. Matt doesn’t miss the way he has to adjust his jeans before they make it into the hallway. She has to fix hers, too, but she’s far more discrete about it. Elegant, even, she thinks.

“No,” she sighs. “He’s too chicken. He’s convinced Adam doesn’t like him back, which is stupid, because we’ve all seen the way he looks at Nick.”

“Nick’s not too subtle on his part, either,” Mox mutters as they make their way back into the living room. It looks like nobody noticed they were gone, which is good. Adam is laughing in the corner with Willow and Riho, Jamie and Britt are making out on the couch, and Nick’s with Claudio, Cole, and some of the other basketball guys in the corner.

She makes the game time decision to pull Nick aside and ask, one more time, but he’s so resistant and sad when he tries to convince her doesn’t like Adam, she just feels miserable for him. Until, that is, he reminds her that she gets to be Mox’s girlfriend at midnight, and she forgets what’s going on.

“I’m – I’m gonna go find Mox,” she says. She meanders her way back into Mox’s arms. He pulls her in with a kiss to the top of her head.

“Hey, baby,” he says. “I have an idea.”

She pulls back enough to be able to look into those baby blue eyes, that look that can stick her to the floor before she can even think. “Yeah?”

“What if,” he says, swaying them back and forth, “you make a resolution.”

Matt nods. “Yeah. I – I was thinking about that.”

Mox smiles down at her. “You were?”

She nods. “I – I think I want to be out, to everyone, before I graduate. I want to start college as me, you know?”

He nods.

“It’s almost midnight.”

“It is.”

“You gonna kiss me?”

The rest of the room starts counting down from ten. And Mox kisses her into the New Year, blinding and beautiful and the best omen she could have imagined.

Nick

He wakes up with his face in something that is definitely not a pillow.

“What the – oh.” He freezes when he realizes his arm are around Adam’s waist, his body lined up along Adam’s back. “Oh.”

He blinks the sleep out of his eyes, realizing the sunlight streaming in through the living room windows is what woke him up.

Adam makes this little noise as Nick pulls away from him, rolling over. “Come back,” he mumbles. “Cold.”

“Oh, calm down, you big whiner,” Nick says as he grabs a blanket from Cole and Kyle’s mountain of them and drapes it over Adam. “I’ll be right back.”

“Good,” Adam mumbles. And he falls into a snore that would rival a jackhammer.

Nick runs to the restroom and brushes his teeth for good measure, then snuggles back in.

“Oh, man,” Nick giggles quietly, “Adam, your breath stinks.”

“It’s morning,” Adam mumbles. “Everybody’s breath stinks.”

Nick rolls his eyes as he snuggles back into his spot, this time curling up under the blanket with Adam.

It’s not until he wakes up again, two hours later and much colder, that he reflects on it.

He sits up so fast his head sort of spins, to see that he, Britt, Riho, Claudio, and Kyle are the only ones left in the living room.

“Where’d everybody go?” Britt mumbles. She and Jamie managed to commandeer the couch after a violent battle between them and Cole and Kyle the night before, but even she looks a bit more rumpled than usual.

“Probably kitchen,” Nick grumbles. “Floor’s hard.”

“it’s supposed to be,” Claudio half growls. “It’s a floor, dumbass.”

“You’re mean when you wake up,” Nick says. He throws a pillow at Claudio’s head, nailing him right on the top of the head, and scurries to the kitchen before Claudio can kill him.

“Hey, kiddos!” their dad says, grinning behind a mountain of pancakes. “Some of you sleep like the dead.”

“I don’t,” Matt says pouting. “Mox and Adam and Cole snore.”

“That wasn’t me!” Cole argues. “It’s Kyle. He snores so bad.”

“Adam was snoring this morning,” Nick offers, grinning over at Adam, trying to pretend like it was all normal, the way they curled around each other that morning.

Adam smiles, but there’s something tight behind it. “Sorry. It’s weird to be awake and not checking on the animals, you know?”

“I don’t,” Nick says. “But I get it.”

Breakfast is sleepy eyes and bright smiles, Mox and Matt holding hands on the bench while Matt does a terrible job of using her left hand to eat.

“It’s too cold to be eating outside,” Riho says, teeth chattering. “This is a terrible idea.”

Willow throws a blanket around both of their shoulders. “But it’s beautiful, Riho!”

“It’s awful.” She turns and buries her face into Willow’s shoulder, and Willow looks far more pleased about it than Nick would have expected.

With well wishes for the year ahead and yawns, everyone trickles out slowly, with Adam, Cole, Kyle, and Mox the last stragglers.

“It’s pretty this early in the morning,” Kyle says. “I don’t usually see the world from this side of 6am.”

“It’s ten,” Adam says. “And way later than you wake up for school.”

“I am not a morning person, Page,” Kyle says sternly. “I do not wake up fully until 12:30, and that’s on a good day.”

“He’s not lying,” Cole says. “And it’s weird to watch. Every once in a while he, like, wakes up in the middle of lunch.”

“It’s called multitasking,” Kyle says, looking weirdly proud of himself. “I can sleep and do mundane things all at once.”

“Is Mundane Things Cole’s new nickname then?” Adam asks, grinning.

Cole throws a pancake at Adam’s head. “You shut up.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Nick says, glancing over at Adam. “We forget you prefer being called ‘adequate.’”

Nick watches Adam peel pancake out of his hair, and suddenly realizes he wishes he was the one that got to mess with Adam like that. Wishes he was the one who was supposed to wake up with Adam like that for sleepovers.

“Oh no,” he half whimpers, looking down at his plate.

“You okay?” Matt asks, eyeing him.

“I’m good,” Nick says. “Just tired.”

#Tumblr formatting fucked up and I am Not Pleased but whatever #MoxMatt high school AU #in which Sara writes #wtf i like wrestling now???#MoxMatt

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