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thefatedthoughtofyou · 4 years ago

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Late Night Walks and Christmas Lights

(Ao3)

((( Thank you @tinyboop for the ideas!!! Sorry it took 84 years to write it!!!! Love youuuuu!! Also, so sorry this isn't under a read more, on mobile. If i can go in on desktop and add one i will... if i remember! <3 )))

It was almost Christmas. The buildings in the city had been decorating all month. Office buildings leaving lights on in the shapes of trees and snowmen and stars, the smaller buildings had been decked out with lights and little trees of their own. The wind had begun to bite, and the weather man was calling for their first snow this weekend.

Bucky hadn't really done Christmas in awhile. "Awhile" being lenient. He hadn't done Christmas in almost 70 years. And he knew that he'd stared when he went out to shop with Sam. Sam had offered to help him with his Christmas shopping, because Sam was nice like that... and also very good at Christmas shopping.

But Bucky had been staring, at the lights, and the trees, and all the tinsle and gifts and toy sets. Everything was so different now. So big. So in your face and everywhere. It was overwhelming. Sam had swooped in right as Bucky's hands had begun to shake, right on time. Like always.

He'd guilded him through shop after shop, grounding him with a steady hand on his elbow when needed, or a hand placed to the small of Bucky's back. Bucky wasn't sure if Sam realized he was doing that, but he wasn't going to say anything that might make him stop. He'd helped him around the shops and they managed to get most of the gifts they needed.

They'd headed back to their apartment, they'd been living together for almost a year. Neither of them enjoying the hustle and bustle of so many bodies under one roof. Sam had offered to look for places, and Bucky, ever the talkative one, had nodded. Sam had found them a nice place in queens rather quickly. Suspiciously quickly. Bucky didn't mention it. They'd hid their gifts and moved on. Waiting to wrap them til closer to Christmas.

Bucky woke to Sam screaming.

In all honesty, he hadn't been sleeping. Sam screams at the same time every night, every time it happens, Bucky had begun waking a few minutes before, naturally, and would wait a few moments after, for the silence or the screaming. If there was silence, he'd drift back to sleep, happy that Sam was getting a goodnights sleep. If there were screams, well, it was different every time, but Bucky always tried to help. And Sam, Sam had actually begun to let him.

Bucky pulls on a pair of black sweats and his blue henley, shoves his feet into his boots and gets up, rubbing at his eyes as he walks down the hall to Sam's room. The screaming has stopped now, Bucky can hear Sam breathing heavily through his bedroom door. Awake then. He knocks twice, the sharp rap of his knuckle.

"Get dressed and meet me in the kitchen." Bucky says, not an order, not a request, something in-between, something that they both understand, however unspoken. Bucky waits by the table. Not five minutes later Sam stumbles into the room, his own boots loose on his feet as he yanks his shirt down over his head.

"Is it far?" Sam asks, his voice low and hoarse, either from screaming or from sleep. Bucky doesn't ask.

"Not too far. But it's cold." Bucky says, a small smile tugging at his lips when Sam groans but follows him to door, accepting the coat Bucky offers with a nod.

Bucky hadn't lied, it wasn't far. Just around the corner. But it had started snowing earlier in the night, the streets and cars all covered in a thin white sheet of sparkling flakes, and the cold air made the walk seem like miles.

Sam pressed into Bucky's side as they walked. Huddling for warmth, Bucky told himself, and he was grateful. He pulled the door of their destination open, Sam gave him a look, Bucky waved him inside and followed him into the warmth under the florescents inside.

"A gas station." Sam said, voice lacking any emotion.

"Yep." Bucky nodded.

"You brought me, to a gas station. In the freezing cold. At 4 in the morning. " the lack of emotion was mostly for effect now, Bucky could see his lips twitching.

"Not just a gas station." Bucky said, walking toward the back of the small store, keeping his eyes on Sam.

"A gas station, with icees." He pointed his finger over his shoulder, Sam had been following him down the aisle he'd chosen.

"Icees." Sam echoed, voice dull. Bucky nodded.

"Icees."

"Buck it's fuckin snowing outside and you brought me hear get an icee?" His hands were on his hips now, eyes incredulous.

Bucky stopped. He looked out the window. It was snowing. And he guessed most people probably wanted warm drinks in the winter. He hadn't really thought it through. He raked his eyes over the shop, looking for some way to recover.

"They have coffee too." He offered lamely, with a shrug. Sam stared at him, hands on his hips, not moving, for what seemed like ages. And then his body seemed to melt, his face soften, arms dropped. He smiled, wide and bright, and strode toward Bucky.

"I'm just fuckin with ya. Thanks Buck." He patted Bucky's chest as he walked past him to the drink machines. He began filling a cup with the cherry icee, the bright red reached about a quarter of the way up and he switched to coke. He went back and forth, layer by layer, til the cup was full. He popped his straw into the cup and took a sip, smiling around the bright red straw perched between his lips, motioning with his head for Bucky to get his.

Bucky grabbed a cup and started with cherry as well, but he layered his with blue raspberry before popping his staw in. He took too big gulps and then stopped, his eyes falling on Sam, who was staring at his mouth. Bucky involuntary let his lips part, his straw catching on his teeth. Sam gulped and licked his lips before shaking his head and looking away.

"They got anything else in here worth checkin out?" He asked as he walked away from Bucky up a different aisle, his eyes down.

"They uh..." he trailed off, mind wandering. He cleared his throat and tried again.

"They have a pretty good candy selection." Bucky said, finding himself again and pointing to the giant wall of candy behind Sam. Sam's eyes lit up when he spun around to look, Bucky smiled at his feet as he trailed behind him.

Sam kept them in the small gas station for almost two hours, looking at everything from drinks to novelty lighters. Sam bought one for both of them, so 'they could stay warm on the walk home'. Bucky had no problem staying warm on the way home, Sam pressed against him again and he could feel himself flushing from cheeks to toes.

They walked up the steps to their door and Bucky stopped, his hand on Sam's arm, staring at the door. Or rather the light shining underneath it.

"We didn't leave a light on." Bucky whispered. Sam covered Bucky's hand with his own and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"I know. But it's okay. Go on." He nodded toward the door and let Bucky walk in front of him.

He turned the knob. Pushed the door open, and felt his heart skip a beat. There were Christmas lights strug on the walls. White ones. Everything was a glowing white. There was garland draped around the kitchen. And in the corner of the room stood a tree. Dazzling in white lights, covered in bulbs of all different colors. Sam pressed into his side again, slowly, looking at him. Bucky knew he was trying to gage his reaction.

"How did you-"

"Did we do okay?" A small voice asked, Bucky knew that voice. He looked down the hall to see Peter's head poking out of Sam's room, his hair sleep tussled, baggy pajama shirt nearly falling off his shoulder.

"I think we did great for such short notice. Personally." Aunt May's head popped out right above her nephews, her hand resting on his shoulder as he smiled up at her, and then both of them, in synch, turned to smile at Sam and Bucky.

"You did great. Thanks." Sam said with a nod. Bucky turned to him and stared.

"What?" Sam asked, having the audacity to sound confused.

"How did you do this?" Bucky asked, staring at Sam and ignoring the muttering from down the hall, hearing a distinct "how did HE do this?", before managing to shut them out.

"Oh we've been planning this for awhile. I texted them when we got to the gas station." Sam said, like it was just that simple. Bucky could hear Peter and Aunt May gathering their things somewhere far behind him.

"It was 4 in the morning. Why didn't you just... wait til i got sent on a mission or something?" He wiped his palms on his thighs, he could feel that flush creeping up on him again.

"It wouldn't havs been as surprising then." Sam shrugged. Bucky thought he might collapse right there. He didn't know what to say. Or how to say it.

"You two boys have a wonderful Christmas." Aunt May butted in, pulling them both in for a hug, side by side, kissing their cheeks.

"Now. There's two presents under that tree, one from me, and one from Peter. You're not to open them til Christmas." She pointed at them, giving them a stern look. She screwed her face up and seemed to change her mind.

"Or at least Christmas Eve." She smiled brightly, pulled them into another hug and then released them. Peter pounced on them not even seconds later.

"Aww Merry Christmas guys! I hope you like your gifts! Mine's better than Aunt May's but hers is really good too, we're super good at gift giving you're gonna love them! Aahh i wish you could just open them now so we could see your faces!!!" He was practically bouncing up and down. Aunt May detached her nephew and apologized.

"Sorry guys! It was so early when you texted so i made coffee and i made it waaaayyy too strong and it's kinda just now kicking in. Ultimately unfortunate but actually kind of okay cuz now i have the energy to do the rest of my shopping today! So thanks i guess! Bye! Merry Christmas!!" He waved as he walked backwards out the door, they heard him slide down the banister on the stairs and land perfectly.

"Nailed it!" His disembodied voiced called from the hall. Aunt May laughed, a happy, bubbly sound, and then her smile softened. She looked at them for a moment, her hand on the door knob.

"Really though. I hope your Christmas is wonderful you two." She closed the door a smidge and then popped back in.

"Oh! And before i forget, Peter left you a little something extra, for holiday cheer." She pointed toward the ceiling, grinning at them as she pulled the door shut.

Bucky looked at Sam.

Sam looked at Bucky.

Then they both looked to the ceiling together.

Above their heads. Stuck to the ceiling with webbing that was sparkling in the twinkling lights, was a small sprig of mistletoe.

Bucky felt his knees wobble, his eyes falling back to Sam, who was still staring at the ceiling. He looked so beautiful, his skin was practically glowing in the low light of the Christmas decorations. Sam finally lowered his gaze back to Bucky, eyes moving over his face, jumping between his eyes and his mouth in quick succession.

"Ya know. I might be in trouble." Sam said, voice low, his breath ghosting over Bucky's skin, making him shiver.

"What? Why?" His brain was malfunctioning, he could feel it. He was sure soon enough there'd be smoke coming out of his ears.

"Cuz i think Spiderboy might be much better at this Christmas thing than me." He was whispering now, and was he getting closer? Was it hot in here? Bucky was sure it hadn't been this hot a moment ago.

"I thou-" Bucky cleared his throat, his attempt at a whisper being more of a croak.

"I thought you were the best?" Bucky breathed. Sam's hand moved to Bucky's cheek, his thumb moving in a slow, warm, line across his cheekbone.

"He's better." It was less a whisper than a breath, breathed between them like a secret, before Sam closed the distance. His lips were warm, hot almost. They seemed to burn Bucky in the most delicious way. He grabbed at Sam's hips and pulled him closer, flush against him, moaning softly as Sam's tongue brushed his lips.

Sam pulled back first, not far, his head resting agaisnt Bucky's as they stood leaning into each other. He smiled at the small sound of disagreement Bucky made. Bucky's eyes were still closed but he could feel Sam nodding slowly.

"Yeah. He's way better."

Bucky opened his mouth, intending to agree but never getting the chance. Sam dove back in, pressing himself into Bucky until all he could feel was Sam. All he knew was Sam. His whole world was Sam. Sam, holding him tightly. Sam, kissing him deeply. Sam, pulling him closer in the glow of the dazzling Christmas lights.

#my writing #winter falcon #sambucky #request #prompt #requests #ficlet #sambucky ficlet #winterfalcon ficlet #tinyboop #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sam wilson x bucky barnes

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bahhumpug · 5 years ago

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Bye, cuz Kiz! We had such a good time with you. Come back again soon! #cousinkismet #tinyboop https://www.instagram.com/p/B04AdKXl_tr/?igshid=itttrd137lt2

#cousinkismet #tinyboop

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ao3feed-geralt-jaskier · 5 years ago

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by wickedwitchcraft

request from tinyboop on tumblr:

picked from a bed sharing prompt list! -

I have constant nightmares and I’ve always had someone to cuddle with. Now, I realize we’re not on that level but you’re only one here and I’m really scared to go to sleep

Words: 5990, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: The Witcher (TV)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier | Dandelion

Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion

Additional Tags: Siren Jaskier | Dandelion, he's half of one, Creature Jaskier | Dandelion, Roommates, omg they were roommates, Bedsharing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Geralt is still a Witcher, creatures and magics are still a thing, punk jaskier, geralt has a small library, bitches love libraries, its jaskier he's bitches, Nightmares

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #netflix the witcher #jaskier x geralt #geralt x jaskier #geraskier

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piggybackambush · 4 months ago

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Oops i did it again! URL CHANGE!

Alas i am OBSESSED with his full name so here we are.

tangerinesteve -> -> -> whimsicalwadewinstonwilson

@solvecrimeandjuicelimes @gayspacesprinkles @tinyboop @friendly-jester @imsodonewiththissite @the-not-so-silent-back-up @1gurgi1 @legitcookie @sidekick-hero @jozstankovich @firefly-party @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe @waytoomanyships @hotluncheddie @freckledjoes @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @offensiunculae @steddie-island @scoops-aboy86 @puppy-steve

#url change

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imsodonewiththissite · 3 years ago

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Tag game! Thank's for tagging me @werewolfwadewilson 🥰

Post your lockcreen, the last song you listened to, and the last photo you saved:

First photo was taken by yours truly. And last photo was to further emphasize my point to a friend of mine lol. Listening to mitski needs no explanation

Tags:

@bandnerdleo @tinyboop @ub-sessed @the-reverse-mermaid @carley-carley-carley

Not obligated if you have been tagged obviously and anyone else who sees is free to tag me if they do it too :)

#tag game #thanks for the tag!! twas fun

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thefatedthoughtofyou · 5 years ago

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HI MAHM IM ACTUALLY SENDING A REAL REQUEST PROMPT INSTEAD OF SCREAMING VAGUE IDEAS AT YOU!!! LOVE U! I have constant nightmares and I’ve always had someone to cuddle with. Now, I realize we’re not on that level but you’re only one here and I’m really scared to go to sleep

(CHILD I HOPE YOU ARE HAPPY CUZ THIS GOT RIDICULOUSLY OUT OF HAND!!! I HAD TO GIVE A LEGIT TITLE AND SHIT BECAUSE IT GOT SO LONG UUUGGHHHH! haha! but thank you so much for sending it in i hope you like it!!!!

Ao3

Bright Smiles and Tired Eyes

Finding a roommate had been… moredifficult, than anticipated. Geralt wasn’t sure why he was surprised, peopledidn’t want to room with him for the same reasons no one wanted to give himwork. Witcher’s were… disliked, to say the least. Yennefer had helped him putan ad together, his had been… short winded. She’d worked her magic, no punintended, and wrote him an ad that was at least promising. She’d refused allhis grumblings about her just moving in with him, to help him out. She refusedto live with ex’s, even if they were still very good friends. The ad helped.His appearance and… profession, did not.

He’d met withseveral people already. At least ten, maybe more, he’d lost count and wasgetting tired. Tired of people coming into the small shop and sitting in frontof him, reeking of fear. Tired of people seeing him and turning right aroundagain to march out the door, not even giving him the curtesy of a ‘no thankyou’. Tired of being gawked at, and refused, and glared at. He’d been spit ononce and had put his fingers through the edge of the table, gripping ittightly, instead of putting his fist through their head. He liked the girl whoran this shop, she was nice, sweet, and she wasn’t afraid him. She was alsodating Yennefer and he didn’t want to get on, either, of their bad sides, bystarting, and finishing, a fight.

It had beenthree weeks, if he didn’t find a new tenant soon, he’d have to move, and thatwould just be worse, he’d never find another place that would give space to awitcher. He moved his finger in small circles on the table top, looking up whenhe heard the bell on the door chime. The man who walked through was… not human.Not entirely at least, there was a very strong other smell to him.Geralt couldn’t pin it down though, it was buried under the scent of hiscologne, and something else that smelled like… cinnamon. His hair was spikedinto a bright blue mohawk, tattoos were scattered across the skin that Geraltcould see, his flannel stopped at his elbows. There were piercings too, Geraltcould see them catching the light as he moved to the counter and ordered acoffee, something sickeningly sweet.

Geralt watchedRenfri make the order and hand it to the man with a smile. He nodded his thanksand then turned gracefully, his eyes, bright as fire in the night, scanned theroom. His shinning eyes landed on Geralt and he nodded, Geralt wasn’t sure ifhe was nodding at him or to himself so he sat still, his eyes going back to thetable top. He heard the man approach slowly.

“Geralt? Thatyou? From the ad?” his voice was like honey and Geralt’s stomach dropped. Helooked up at the man and nodded. He smiled down at him in return, and pointedat the seat across from Geralt, his eyebrows arched in question. Geralt noddedagain. He sat.

“So umm… I feellike I should maybe open with the fact that I’m not human. And uh… clearly,you’re… a witcher. So if me being… not human, isn’t okay for you, I can go. Ijust-“ his hands were fiddling nervously next to his coffee cup.

“I just wantedto be honest up front. And not just because I’m worried you’ll kill me.” Helaughed, awkwardly, cleared his throat, and took a very large swig of hiscoffee. Geralt watched him, watched his fingers wrap around the cup, his eyesmoving over the music notes tattooed across his knuckles. He let the man sethis coffee back down before he spoke.

“I’m not goingto kill you.” Geralt said, picking up his own cup, bringing it to his lips.

“Yet.” He saidand took a drink, trying not to smirk as the man squirmed in his seat beforesmiling softly, catching the joke. And that… was new. The man nodded, hismohawk not moving at all on his head, Geralt eyed it and then moved his eyesback to his face, he was wearing eyeliner, like those eyes needed any help standingout, and there were two lip rings shining against his bottom lip, more scatteredin his ears. Geralt watched him take another sip of his coffee and thought hesaw a tongue ring too as the man’s tongue ran quickly over his lip.

“So what areyou? If you don’t mind me asking.” Geralt laced his fingers together on thetable and watched the man in front of him. His cheeks reddened, and there wassomething in his eyes. Geralt thought it looked suspiciously like shame.

“Uh… A uh.. asiren. Well half of one, anyway. On my mother’s side. And I don’t- I don’t useit. The- the siren thing. It’s just- it’s just sort of there. I don’t use it onpeople, that would be…bad.” He finished lamely. His hands clasped together onthe table, tightly, the scent of shame pouring off of him in waves. He wasstaring at the table, and for the first time since he’d seen the man, the scentof fear hit Geralt’s senses. Geralt stared at him, looked at him for a verylong time, he knew that look, and he knew that smell. It wasn’t just fear. Orshame. It was both, dancing together across the man’s skin. He wasn’t afraid ofGeralt, not the way he probably should have been, he was afraid of Geralt’s reaction.No doubt trained to be frightened of it through past experiences. Geralt feltan odd urge to reach out and comfort the man, he frowned and shoved the urgedeep.

This man, whowasn’t just a man, was sitting in front of him, not afraid of the witcherin front of him, but afraid that the person in front of him, would hatehim. Hate him solely for what he was, despite not knowing him, just knowing whathe was. Geralt looked at him, and knew that feeling well.

“What’s you’rename?” The man’s eyes shot up from thetable, he stared at him, blue eyes shining. Geralt raised his eyebrows, andwaited.

“Ah! Um,Jaskier. I’m Jaskier.” He reached his hand out, clearly an instinct, his eyesflashing with worry immediately as his hand crossed into Geralt’s space. Geraltlowered his eyes to the hand extended to him, he watched it move back, thesmallest amount, an unsure movement that was, somehow, endearing. He moved hishand up and placed in the hand that was offered, the man, Jaskier, smiled athim, and they shook.

“Geralt.”Jaskier smiled again, dropping his hand back on the table, fingers tap out asmall rhythm.

“The room’syours if you want it.” Geralt knew this was probably a bad idea. And he knewmore, that Yennefer was going to yell at him, call him irresponsible, and, mostlikely, a great many other thing. But as sat here, looking across the table atthe shining blue eyes of this shame filled siren, he knew he’d let her call himwhatever she liked.

“Really? Are yousure? I mean, if you’re at all uncomfortable- I don’t want to impose oranything or- or get in your way. Or get you in… trouble. With the…witcher…people.” He narrowed his eyes, obviously knowing he sounded like anidiot as the words staggered out of his mouth. Geralt took a sip of coffee tohide his smirk, at least he knew he sounded ridiculous.

“The… Witcherpeople, will be fine. And I’m sure.” He slipped his fingers into his pocket andslid the small business card across the table.

“That’s theaddress, you can move in as soon as you want. Do you need any help?” He wasn’tsure why he’d asked that. He’d never offered his help to anyone before, well,to an extent. He’d offered to kill monsters, but never to help someone move. Hedidn’t even have a truck, or a car, no vehicle to help move anything. Hefurrowed his brow, mainly at himself.

“Oh no, I’malright. I don’t have much.” He slid his hand across the table top, pulling thecard to him, it disappeared from his fingers before Geralt’s eyes and he foundhimself wondering for the first time if Jaskier was maybe something other thanjust half a siren.

“But thank you.”His voice was soft. He drummed his fingers for a moment, filling the silencespreading between them, and then slowly stood up. He waved, took a couple stepsand then turned around again.

“Seriously thankyou. I’ve been looking for a place for ages. No one- no one seemed to want togive me a chance.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, eyes glancing between thefloor and Geralt. Geralt nodded and felt his lips move into a small smile.

“I know thefeeling. See you soon Jaskier.” The man, Jaskier, smiled down at him, nodded,and turned to leave again. Geralt watched him go, watching the graceful way hewalked despite the clunky combat boots on his feet. Geralt couldn’t stop hiseyes moving slowly up the man’s back, the black skinny jeans hugging his legsand hips snuggly, there was red bandana peeking out from under the blue andback flannel that covered his ass and hung nicely on his broad shoulders. Hewatched Jaskier pull the door open, he spun on his heel, giving Geralt a smallwave. Geralt raised his hand in return and watched Jaskier disappear down thestreet. He looked back to his coffee, took a sip, and wished he’d asked forsomething with cinnamon.

“Well he seemednice.” Geralt jumped as Renfri threw herself into the seat Jaskier had leftempty. She stared him down, chin resting on her hands, a smile on her lips anda knowing look in her eyes.

“Shut upRenfri.” He grunted, pushing himself out of his seat and walking out the door.

~*~

He moves in twodays later. And he was right when he said he didn’t have much. He brought abed, a small dresser, one duffle bag of clothing, and two instruments. A guitarstrapped to his back, and a keyboard hung over his shoulder. Geralt helped himwith the bed and the dresser, the delivery men had just dropped them on thesidewalk. Jaskier had knocked on his door looking sheepish. Geralt brushed itoff and easily carried his things in for him, helping him set his room up theway he wanted it. The room was spacious, Geralt lived in a good-sized loft, andJaskier’s few items made it seem, achingly empty.

Geralt left himto his own devices after they got his things settled, letting Jaskier wanderaround the apartment, looking things over, his fingers drumming against histhigh, he was clearly forcing himself not to reach out and touch everything insight.

“You can touchthings if you want. It’s not a museum.” Geralt smirked when Jaskier jumped, butsmiled when the musician smiled at him and turned back to the bookshelf he waswalking by slowly, his hand immediately reaching out, fingers brushing overeach title gently, Geralt noted that his nails were painted black. The smilestayed on his face as he looked through the books.

“I didn’trealize I was moving into a library.” Jaskier called over his shoulder, hismohawk was green today, a dark emerald color, it only served to make his eyeseven more vibrant.

“You can readthem if you want. What’s mine is yours.” Geralt waved his hand toward thebookcase as he stepped into the kitchen, shoving his sleeves up his arms.

“Is that so?” hecould hear the insinuation laced in Jaskier’s voice and froze. He turned tolook at him, Jaskier was leaning against the bookcase, book open in his hands,one foot tucked over the other, his flannel was red today. He must have feltGeralt staring, he looked up from the book, eyes wide, inquisitive.

“What?” heasked, his face a mask of innocence. Geralt actually couldn’t tell, if it was amask or not.

“Nothing.Sorry.” He shook his head and continued into the kitchen, his shouldersrolling, trying to move the tension out.

“You hungry?” hecalled, opening the fridge.

“I could eat.” Hisvoice sounds, far away. Geralt glances past the fridge door and sees him stillstanding there, nose in the book, his eyes darting back and forth over thepage. Geralt starts grabbing things out the fridge, sets them on the counter.

“You likepasta?” he asks, watching him stand there and read.

“Hmm?” he hums,not listening at all. Geralt smiles then, really smiles, and turns to hide it.

“You can sit onthe couch you know? You don’t have stand.” Geralt grabs pots and pans andspoons and all the things he’ll need.

“What? Oh.Thanks yeah. Hey did you say something about pasta?” Jaskier’s voice getslouder as he walks toward the kitchen, he throws himself onto one of the stoolsat the island, Geralt glances back at him and he freezes.

“Am I gonna bein the way here?” he points at the marble island top where he’s set his bookdown. Geralt shakes his head and continues working.

“Do you… wanthelp?” Geralt can feel him leaning to the side, trying to see what Geralt’sdoing.

“You know how tomake pasta?”

“Well thatdepends.” He hears Jaskier flop the book over, keeping his place.

“On what?”Geralt turns then, leaning back against the counter, crossing his arms over hischest.

“Is it pastafrom a box? And sauce from a jar? Or is it like, pasta pasta? And homemadesauce?” Jaskier is smiling at him, not a bright smile, a soft smile, just tiltingthe corners of his lips a little.

“Which one canyou make?” Geralt asks, trying hard not to return the smile, his resolves slipsa little when Jaskier leans back on the barstool and grins.

“You lookat me, and tell me which one you think I can make.” He flattens his handover his chest, his palm covering the design of the band shirt he’s wearingunder his flannel. Geralt snorts.

“Box pasta. Allthe way.” He shakes his head and turns back to the counter, his cheeks burningat the look in Jaskier’s eyes.

“Wooow! Unbelievable.Ye of little faith!” his voice is full of drama, and humor, and happiness. Itmakes Geralt’s skin tingle. Without his permission he turns back to Jaskier,body moving on its own.

“So you can makereal pasta then?” Geralt looks at him, one eyebrow cocked high. Jaskier looksat him, smiling still, brightly this time, his tongue running over his bottomlip, teeth coming down to pull the lip between it, his lip rings making smallsounds against his teeth. He doesn’t hold the stare long before he’s snorting.

“Oh fuck no.Look at me. I’ve been eating SpaghettiOs out of a can for three months. Thebest thing I can make is grilled cheese.” He flips the book back over, thatmaddening smile still on his lips.

“But it isa mean grilled cheese. Add some tomato soup on the side and it’s a gourmet mealfor me.” He glances up at Geralt quickly and then back to the book, his smilefalling slowly as he gets pulled back in by the words on the pages in front ofhim. Geralt watches him, noticing the dark circles under his eyes for the firsttime. He has them hidden so well with his eyeliner that if you’re not lookingclosely you miss them. Geralt supposes that that is the point. He sighs andbegins cooking. Jaskier reading at the counter, the small noises of, him,a comfort in the normally silent apartment.

“I forgot tomention I was a musician. I hope that’s not a problem. I mean, I figured you’dhave said something earlier than now, like when you saw the guitar, but youalso sort of seem like the kind of person to not want to say much. Even if youreally really wanna say something. So I thought I’d bring it up incaseit’s an issue for you. But I do have headphones, so I won’t be like, having jamsessions or anything did you really make those noodles that’s insane, that youcan do that.” Geralt jumped at the sudden talking, and raised his eyebrows atthe sudden onslaught of words coming from the man behind him. He turned to lookat him and found the book he’d been reading closed and pushed to the side, hefelt his cheeks heat up at the thought that Jaskier had possibly been watchinghim for some time.

“Can you havejam sessions with an acoustic guitar and a keyboard?” Geralt smirked at him,Jaskier rested his chin on his hands and looked at him.

“I’ve had jamsessions with less.” He quirked an eyebrow at Geralt, challenging him.

“Hmm?” hehummed, crossing his arms over his chest again, the noodles boiling behind him.

“I have! I oncehad a session with nothing but a metal spoon, a bucket, and half a tambourine.”He dropped his hands onto the counter and smiled again. Geralt huffed, all thisguy did was fucking smile. And the worst part was, it was warm, and infectious,and fucking genuine.

“Half atambourine.” Geralt mused, turning away again, stirring the noodles and thesauce before walking to the pantry. He pulled out a loaf of bread and heardJaskier gasp.

“Are you aboutto make actual garlic bread with that fancy Aladdin bread right there?”his hands were flat on the island top now, slender fingers splayed out in frontof him. Geralt paused and looked at him.

“Aladdin bread?”he repeated back to him. Jaskier nodded excitedly, hopping off the barstool andwalking around to where Geralt was standing, moving into his space slowly andtaking the bread from him gently.

“Yeah! Aladdinbread, like in Aladdin, at the beginning when he’s stealing bread and running fromthe guards with Abu and it’s a perfect little loaf like this one?” Jaskier doesa twirl, spinning easily in the small space and brandishing the loaf of breadlike a sword, the end level with Geralt’s chest, the exact spot someone wouldshove a knife to strike his heart. Jaskier was still smiling, wiggling hiseyebrows at him. Cheeky. Geralt brough his hand up the bread, curling is fingersaround the loaf.

“Right. And, inthis situation.” Geralt stepped closer, pressing into Jaskier’s space the wayhe’d done to him. He watched Jaskier swallow roughly, eyes wide, nodding forGeralt to continue.

“Are youAladdin. Or the monkey?” his voice was dry, he pulled the bread from Jaskier’sgrip easily, poking him in the chest gently to guild him out of the way.Jaskier squawked, mock offence filling his voice as he held his hands up insurrender and backed away, letting Geralt push him out of his space. He settledon the barstool once more and continued to watch Geralt cook.

Geralt was usedto being stared at. People stared at him all the time. This was differentthough. This stare wasn’t… hateful. It was… curious. Jaskier watched him witheyes full of curiosity, tracking his movements like a cat tracking a birdthrough a window. Geralt could feel his gaze on his back, eyes moving over hisbody, and for the first time, in a long time, he didn’t feel threatened by it.Or objectified by it, though Jaskier was no doubt looking at him… in that way.Geralt could smell it on him, he could smell how… appreciative, Jaskier was. Herolled his shoulders as he began mixing the garlic for the bread and heardJaskier sigh behind him, a small thing, barely there.

He glanced overhis shoulder, the feel of Jaskier’s eyes on him gone now, and saw the man hadrested his head on his arms. Geralt knew he wasn’t sleeping, his heart beatingat a regular pace behind his ribs. Geralt lips twitched again and he shook hishead, finishing the garlic mix and brushing it onto the bread. He popped it inthe oven and waited, resting against the counter, and letting his eyes fall tothe musician half asleep on his island. His green mohawk was scrunched againsthis arm, his eyes moving behind his eyelids, fingers twitching where theyrested on his arm.

Geralt couldhear his heartbeat slowing as sleep tried to take him. His eyes moving fasterand faster behind his eye lids. Geralt was sure he was nearly asleep now, hisheart beating slower and slower. And then he flinched. His whole body jumpingas he sat up, blinking hard at the bright lights in the kitchen, Geralt turnedaway quickly. He watched Jaskier’s reflection in the window on the stove. Herubbed at his eyes and pulled the book closer to him, flipping through it untilhe found his place. He rested his chin in his palm and began reading, his tiredeyes moving slowly, blinking hard a few more times. Geralt felt a tug deep inhis chest, his fingers itching at his side, and then he jumped himself when thetimer on the oven began to ding.

~*~

Jaskier doesn’tsleep. At least he hasn’t. Not for the week he’s been around. Unless he sleepswhen Geralt is gone. Which is possible. But the dark circles under his eyes getdarker every day. And Geralt hasn’t known him that long, but he’s starting toworry. He lays down that night, barely sleeping himself most nights, and helistens.

He’d toldJaskier he wouldn’t be home until late. And then he’d gotten home early. He gotcleaned up, took a shower, peaked through the crack in Jaskier’s door and sawhim sitting at his keyboard, headphones draped over his neck, his fingersmoving nimbly over the keys. Geralt stared for a moment longer and headed tohis room. He threw himself onto his bed, his body tired, the job hadn’t beenterrible. Just chasing off a few rowdy young werewolves. They’d barely put up afight before running off back home. But the small fight had left him aching,getting throw into walls would do that. He laid in the dark, listening to thesmall sounds coming from across the hall.

And then Jaskierstarted singing.

He realized he’dmade a mistake immediately. The sound of Jaskier’s voice immediately making hishead fuzzy. He pushed himself out bed with a grunt. His feet stumbling beneathhim as the haunting voice filled the halls of their apartment. He used everyounce of energy inside himself to shove his body through his bedroom door. Hetook two steps and had to brace himself against the wall, his head wasswimming, his ears ringing, Jaskier’s voice filling his ears and pulling himunder. He made it another step before he fell, his body falling into Jaskier’sdoor and then slamming to the floor as the door swung open, hard, knocking intothe wall. Jaskier’s voice caught in his throat as he jumped out of his chairand stumbled backwards, hands flailing as he looked toward the door with wideeyes. Geralt laid on the floor, still unable to move his body properly.

“Oh fuck.Geralt! Shit no no no, you aren’t supposed to be home why are you hear?” hesounded panicked as he ran over to Geralt, falling to his knees next to him,his hands hovering just over Geralt’s body.

“Shit. Fuck I’mso sorry.” His voice was small. The cheer and happiness usually tinting hiswords was gone now, completely.

“Geralt. Fuck.”His hands finally settled on his own knees, moving up and down his thighs, theair around him was thick with worry.

“M’fineJaskier.” Geralt mumbled as best he could, his cheek pressed roughly againstthe floor.

“No. You’re not.Look at you. I- oh hang on!” his hands flailed again as pushed himself off thefloor, across the room in seconds, digging through his dresser for something.He made a small sound when he found it, and was back in front of Geralt inseconds. His slim fingers wrapped around something small and brown, both handsholding it, he brought it close to Geralt’s face and snapped it in half.Cinnamon filled his senses, his head cleared almost immediately. He grunted andpushed himself to his knees, noting how Jaskier scrambled backwards, movingaway from him.

“I’m- I should-I should leave.” Jaskier’s voice was shaky, barely even a whisper in the silentroom. Geralt picked up the broken pieces of the cinnamon stick Jaskier hadsnapped in front of him, holding them in his hand.

“Cinnamon.” Hesaid, maybe a little dumbly. He looks up at Jaskier then, and what he seesmakes his heart drop into his stomach. Jaskier had moved as far away from himas possible, his arms wrapped around himself, fingers digging into his ribswhere he clutched at himself. There were tears falling down his cheeks as hestared at the ground. He looked impossibly small. Geralt pushed himself to hisfeet.

“It’s okay Jas-“

“No it isn’t!”he almost screamed it, his voice rising louder than Geralt had ever heard it.Jaskier sunk to the floor. His arms pulling his knees close to his chest assobs fell from his mouth. Geralt crept closer, clenching his fists at his sidesas Jaskier hid his face against his knees. He crouched down next to him, hishand reaching out slowly to touch his shoulder. Jaskier flinched, but Geraltleft his hand there, refusing to move it.

“You didn’t doit on purpose.” He soothed, his thumb moving in small circles.

“It was anaccident.”

Jaskier snortedhumorlessly and looked up at Geralt, eyes full of self-loathing.

“It’s alwaysan accident.” He says, voice thick with, something.

“I can’t fuckingcontrol it. And I- I could have hurt you.” The tears fall down his face likerain on a window. He bites his lip and sniffles, pulling the sleeve of hisshirt down over his hand and wiping at nose.

“But you didn’t.I should have told you I was home. I saw you didn’t have your headphones on.”His hand moves off Jaskier’s shoulder as he stands, keeping himself pressedagainst the wall.

“You’re tryingto make this your fault?” Jaskier scoffs.

“It’s at least alittle my fault.” Geralt says, taking a few steps back, giving Jaskier someroom. He smiles at him then, trying to show Jaskier that he really doesn’tblame him. It wasn’t Jaskier’s fault. They had an agreement. The only timeJaskier would sing out loud was when Geralt wasn’t home. And he wasn’t supposedto be home. And he hadn’t let Jaskier know he was in the house. Sure, Jaskiershould have heard him, but he had been writing music, and Jaskier rarely hearsanything when he’s writing music, or listening to music, or playing music, andreading books. He gets lost in his head so easily. So yes, Geralt didn’t justthink it was his fault, he knew it was.

“I should havelet you know I was home. That was the deal. I broke it. It’s my fault.” Helooked at Jaskier pointedly, kept his eyes on him until Jaskier finally lookedup from the floor. His eyes shining with tears.

“It’s okay.Okay?” Jaskier pulled his lip between his teeth and nodded. Geralt nodded backand stepped further away. He watched Jaskier for a moment, watched his handsfinally fall to his sides, watched him all but collapse onto his bed, sittingon the edge picking a hole in the knee of his jeans. Geralt walked out to thekitchen and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. He peaked back intoJaskier’s room, he was laying on the bed now, arm draped over his eyes.

“Hey.” Geraltcalled quietly. Jaskier peeked at him from under his arm, Geralt tossed thebottle to him, he caught it easily.

“Thanks.” Wasall he got in return, Jaskier’s voice still small.

“Get some rest.”Geralt said, trying his best to smile again, and pulled the door closed. Hewatched the line of light under the door until it went dark and went back tohis room, hoping that Jaskier would actually get to sleep.

He’d just aboutdrifted off himself when heard the screams. He sat bolt upright, his handsfisting in front of him, ready for a fight. The screams stopped and he realizedit was Jaskier. Across the hall. Screaming in his sleep. He focused hishearing, reaching out in the dark. Jaskier’s heart was racing, Geralt couldhear him whimpering now. Another shout rang out through the dark and he heardJaskier flail in his bed, and then heard a thud as he fell out of it. He heardJaskier struggle to get untangled from his sheets, and then heard him pad downthe hall to the bathroom.

He heard Jaskierclimb into the shower, even heard him crying under the downpour of water. Helistened to him get dressed and then heard him pacing. He walked to Geralt’sdoor four times. Stopping in front it, pausing, and then going back to hisroom. His hand had even touched the doorknob at least twice. Geralt waited forhim to pace back, waited for him to stop in front if his door, and then calledout to him.

“Come in.”

He heard Jaskiergasp. But the door opened, Jaskier shuffled into the room, his pajamas hungloose on him, baggy pajama pants barely hanging onto his hips. He looked smallagain and Geralt wondered how he did that, went from looking as tall as Geralt,all broad shoulders and long legs, to looking like someone Geralt could put inhis pocket. He stood in the dim ray of light from the hall, rubbing at the backof his neck.

“Are youalright?” he asked, not moving from the bed, pushing Jaskier to says something,for fear that if he didn’t, Jaskier would just stand there all night, sayingnothing.

“N- no. No notreally. And um… I’m gonna ask you something. And it might sound odd. And youcan say no!” he hurried to add, his hands held out in front of him.

“Just ask.”Geralt grunted.

“Can I um… Can Isleep in here with you?” he asked, Geralt said nothing, sensing he was going tosay more, his own heart began beating loudly in his ears.

“It’s just that.I uh… I have these dreams. Well, they’re not dreams really. Nightmares. Iguess, is what they are. They’re nightmares. And uh,” he sighed, pushing hishand through his hair, Geralt just now noticing the his spiked up mohawk wassoft from his shower, he could a slight curl to his hair.

“I um… I usuallyhave… someone to… someone to sleep with. It- it helps. Having some one to- justhaving someone… to-“ he cut off, his eyes on the ground, Geralt could smell theembarrassment coming off him, he rubbed his hand over his face.

“To hold you?”Geralt prompted. Jaskier’s eyes snapped up from the floor, meeting Geralt’s inthe dark. He swallowed hard and nodded.

“It helps. Makesme feel safe.” He was worrying his pajama pants between his fingers.

“I know it’sweird. I just thought I’d ask, I didn’t mean to-“

“Come here.”Geralt waved him over, lying back on the bed, pulling the sheet up ininvitation. Jaskier swallowed hard and shuffled forward. He climbed in next toGeralt slowly, laying stiffly next to him. Geralt snorted and moved closer tohim.

“Getcomfortable.” He moved his fingers to Jaskier’s arm and felt him shiver at thetouch.

“You’re sure?Like really sure cuz I get a bit… clingy.” He pushed himself up onto his elbowand looked down at Geralt, the moonlight from the window shinning in his eyes.

“Cling away.”Geralt said, pushing a lock of hair from Jaskier’s forehead with his finger,pulling another shiver from him.

“Okay.” Jaskierbreathed, looking down at him, motionless, for a moment longer and thenlowering himself down, pressing himself against Geralt gently. His head layingon Geralt’s shoulder, his hand resting on his chest, settled above his heart.His legs pressed against Geralt’s, his foot twitching a bit. Geralt reached down,curled his fingers around Jaskier’s knee and pulled one of his legs over hisown so that it rested between them. He moved his hand up to settle on Jaskier’ship and felt him sigh, finally relaxing completely against him. The only partof him moving now was his fingers, tapping out a gentle rhythm on Geralt’schest.

“I hate it.”Jaskier whispered. Geralt moved the arm underneath Jaskier to hold hisshoulder, giving it a squeeze.

“I hate thatpart of me so much.” His breath was warm against Geralt’s chest, Geralt dug histeeth into his lip, wanting to comfort him, be he wanted Jaskier to get it out,whatever it was that he needed to say.

“And everyoneelse hates it too. As soon as people find out what I am. The look in theireyes, it changes, ya know? It twists, into this, look. Like they- likethey’re-“ Geralt can feel tears pooling against his chest, wet and warm. Hehears Jaskier choke back a sob and moved his hand into his still damp hair.

“Like they hateyou.” Geralt whispers, breathing the words into Jaskier’s hair. He feelsJaskier nod.

“They don’t evenknow me. I’m not… I’m not like that. I don’t like hurting people.” Hisfingers curl into Geralt’s shirt, clutching at it tightly.

“I know.”

“How can youknow that? We just met. And you’ve seen it. You’ve felt it. What I cando.” He flattens Geralt’s shirt back out, pressing his fingers down againsthim, pressing out the wrinkles he’d created.

“Jaskier. If youwanted to hurt people, you’d be hurting people. And I’m not sure anyone couldstop you.” He moved his fingers to Jaskier’s chin, tilting his head up, makinghim look at him.

“I don’t thinkeven I could stop you. If you really wanted to, I think you could bring thisworld to it’s knees with that voice of yours.” He moved his fingertips over Jaskier’slips, feeling him gasp against them.

“But youhaven’t. And you won’t.” He moved his hand to cup Jaskier’s cheek.

“There’s toomuch kindness in you.” He presses his lips to Jaskier’s forehead and then looksdown at him again.

“It shines inyour eyes every time you smile. And you fucking smile, all, the time.” Geraltsighs, frustration lacing his voice. Jaskier snorts, his body shaking againstGeralt’s. Jaskier pressed closer, his body moving into Geralt’s like it wasmade to be there, his arm snaking around Geralt and pulling him closer.

“Should I stopsmiling? Sounds like it bothers you.” His voice was heavy with sleep now, theheartbeat pressing into Geralt’s side slowing. Jaskier snuggled his head harderinto Geralt’s shoulder.

“Don’t ever stopsmiling.” Geralt breathed into his hair. He felt Jaskier smile into his chestand moved his fingers slowly along his scalp, listening to his heartbeat andbreathing slow as he finally drifted off to sleep. Geralt pulled him closer,holding him tightly in the dark, and let his eyes fall closed. He pressed hisnose into Jaskier’s hair and hoped he could at least bring him some peace.

#geraskier #geraskier fic #geraskier prompt #geraskier request #prompts #requests #prompt #request #my writing #geralt x jaskier #tinyboop #thank you for asking love

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bahhumpug · 6 years ago

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It ain't easy being the middle child. #rosyposy #lilpugbean #lilbean #pugtongue #tinyboop #sleepypug #couchdestroyer https://www.instagram.com/p/BwyG7z0FDje/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1w5fo2de9tshs

#rosyposy #lilpugbean #lilbean #pugtongue #tinyboop #sleepypug #couchdestroyer

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piggybackambush · 20 days ago

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Url Change! Wahoo!

It's me...ya homie. At it again. No excuse this time i just love him a lot. ❤🖤😌🖤❤

tangerinesteve -> -> -> whimsicalwadewinstonwilson -> -> -> irishvampireboy -> -> -> thecatkingsthrone -> -> -> cherrywade

@solvecrimeandjuicelimes @gayspacesprinkles @tinyboop @friendly-jester @imsodonewiththissite @the-not-so-silent-back-up @1gurgi1 @legitcookie @sidekick-hero @jozstankovich @firefly-party @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe @waytoomanyships @hotluncheddie @freckledgirly @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @offensiunculae @steddie-island @scoops-aboy86 @thecreelhouse

In answer to my previous url change post question, about how long that one would last... about a month.... ✌🏻😌✌🏻

#url change

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q-nnectionsfancomic · 7 years ago

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Making Q-nnections...

(Just wanted to talk about this-- I’ve been waxing and waning in emotions lately so I feel that posting my ramblings will make me feel better? IDK.)

To start, I think the writers of Voyager gave Q the short end of the stick. “What’s this? Q and Lady Q are married and have always been married? Wow--! That’s cool and totally not contrived forced Heterosexuality or anything!” But... I was sort of... kind of... not really, willing to accept it. Q was still being Q in the end, even with his weird crush on Janeway. ...I just chop that up to his authoritarian fetish, though. (He’s still totally into boning Picard, don’t even try me VOY writers.)

However, I have to admit. I really like the episode ‘Q2′. It’s the only appearance by Q Junior, sure, (yeah I know he appeared as a baby but it wasn’t the same actor obviously and HE WAS A BABY. It doesn’t count) but... like. He was so... Q? Except tinybooper Q? Sort of reminded me of Season 1 Q, just not as proselytizing (and slightly annoying). I know it’s an extremely normal episode with a basic moral lesson (don’t fuck around when you’re an omnipotent being, someone important to you might die) but... there’s something so pure about it and it just-- engrossed me???

It’s not uncommon for me to binge watch series, but I’m not good at keeping up with basic things. For example; character names. Even with how obsessed I am with Star Trek, I had a hard time keeping up with names in Voyager. Thankfully there is seven seasons, so I learn. ...Eventually. But I think it’s season seven when I was like “...dis. dis gud shit”

ALSO. Q Junior’s and Icheb’s interactions are so adorable and pure AND THEY HAVE NICKNAMES FOR EACH OTHER AND THAT REALLY JUST MADE MY SHIPPING HEART SKIP I NEED TO KNOW IF IT’S LEGIT A TAG BUT I’VE BEEN AVOIDING IT FOR SOME REASON--- ...Er. Anyway.

Despite all of Voyager’s flaws with establishing the Q Continuum (and in general), I still really like this episode. When I watched it, I saw potential in the episode of Q Junior... actually ending up staying as a human. And eventually Q, too. Yeah, the story was kinda first thought out as Q Junior only losing his powers, but I realized quickly that wouldn’t work because 1) Most people probably wouldn’t recognize Q Junior prominently... 2) Making a Q-related title/pun with Q Junior would be slightly confusing?? 3) Q would bring in more ratings and I like trying to write for him, anyway.

I actually thought to myself when I watched it, “holy crap is he actually GoInG tO BeCoMe A hUmaN REALLY WOW-- ...oh.” Yeah. It was a disappointing ending for me, sort of. Mainly because it would be the last we see of Q Junior. At the same time, I was halfway expecting it. Still, I saw potential in something that had never been done before as far as I knew, (both Q and Q Junior being forced to become something they’re not and learning the human condition), so I went for the AU angle.

There’s more reasons than that, but I think this is the main reason; I LOVE STAR TREK, and I LOVE Q. Watching Voyager the first time reminded me that. Even if it has a few deep-seated flaws, it can still give people REALLY good writing. So I hope to one day look back at this post and say to myself, “Boy, I was probably dumb. That comic was nice to work on, though”

PHEW! I needed that.

#Star Trek #Q (Star Trek)#Lady Q #Icheb #Q Junior #Qcard #Q-nnections #Hmm Yes #Feels #Boosting Myself Up #Edit

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thefatedthoughtofyou · 4 years ago

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A Sky Full Of Stars

Ao3

(((( big thanks to @tinyboop for.... letting me rant at you i guess???? Hahahhaa! Idk!!! ))))

Summary: this is literally the most random little thing about Sam and Bucky and Mother's Day.

They'd been out grabbing some groceries when they walked past the little display in the window of the flower shop. Some big bright thing about mother's day being right around the corner. Bucky goes quiet. Not that he was being overly rowdy or anything. But he'd been relaxed. Having a nice time. He's tense the rest of the way home and Sam doesn't see him for the rest of the night.

The next few days he hardly sees him either. He comes out for food and disappears again. Sam leaves him to it, knows he'll talk when he's ready. Or at least come out of his room. He's never chatty. But Sam gives him space.

He gets up early on Mother's Day, makes himself a small breakfast, and smiles to himself when he hears Bucky "sneak" out the front door. He grabs his jacket, slips his shoes on, and follows him.

Sam knows exactly where they're going as soon as Bucky takes his 3rd left. He watches him go through the gates, shoulders drooped, head down, hood up. And Sam turns around, lets him go.

Bucky just stands there. For a long time. Looking down at his mom's grave. He doesn't know what to say. He used to be good at talking to his ma. But he just can't seem to say anything. His throats all closed up. He hears Sam way before he scuffles up behind him and stops.

They both stand there.

Silent.

Bucky clenches his fists.

"I left her." Bucky finally says, quiet. Sam sighs and closes the space, his hand falls on Bucky's shoulder easy.

"You didn't leave her." Bucky looks up at him, smiles that sad smile he has, and Sam's heart breaks, like it always does.

"I did though." Sam takes a deep breath. There's days Bucky is fine. And then there are days when ghosts show up. Ghosts Sam never would have even thought to think of. And this was one of those days.

"Okay, maybe you left her. In the literal sense. But you didn't abandon her Buck. You got drafted. You wrote her letters yeah?" Bucky doesn't say anything. Sam shakes his shoulder.

"Yeah. I wrote her letters." He finally says. Quiet.

"Bucky." He moves to look him in the eyes. "You didn't leave her. You were taken." He thinks for a moment, eyes moving away from Bucky and then zeroing back in.

"Twice." Bucky looks at his feet.

"Hey" Sam says, quiet like he's trying not spook a skiddish horse. Bucky looks back up at him, with mainly his eyes.

"It wasn't your fault. And i should know, cuz i mean a lot of things are DEFINITELY your fault, but not this." Sam feels relief flood through him when Bucky laughs. It's small. But its there.

"Those for me?" Bucky asks.

"What?" Bucky nods at Sam's hand, he'd forgotten he was holding them, a bundle of flowers.

"You wish. These are for your mother. Obviously." Sam rolls his eyes and sets them gently on the grave in front of them, as he straightens the leaves he doesn't see the look Bucky gives him.

Afterward, Sam drags him away. Tells him he wants to show him something. Bucky is apprehensive at best. But he lets Sam take him god knows where. Turns out god knows where is Sam's family's place. His mother's house to be exact. Bucky is shaking by the time they get to the door.

"Sam I'm not sure this is a good idea."

"Hush. It's fine" And then his mom is answering the door and pulling them both inside.

"You're late young man." his mother says. Sam laughs as she pulls him close.

"Sorry mama, we had to stop and visit his mom in The Valley." She lets her son go and looks at Bucky, her eyes are kind like Sam's, and when she gives him a small toothy smile he sees Sam's gap and dimples reflected too. Then she pulls him close too. Doesnt say she's sorry for his loss, doesn't pity him, just squeezes him tight and says,

"Well if there's an exception to the rule, I'd say that qualifies." Then she turns to Sam, looking stern.

"Are you gonna introduce your guest?" And Sam startles and stutters before hurrying through the introductions. Bucky mumbles a small hello, and Sam's mom smiles at him again before telling him he can sit down and keep her company while sam cooks them a nice meal.

Bucky and Sam's mom get along, very well. Sam swears he even hears bucky laugh at one point, but when he peeks in to look at them, both of them are stone faced watching the tv. Sam is immediately suspicious, but he lets it go. They're quiet for awhile before he hears bucky say,

"I'm gonna see if he needs help with anything Mrs. Wilson, I'll be right back

" Sam smiles into the gravy he's stiring and pretends he didn't hear a thing. Bucky doesn't say anything for a long time, and when Sam finally turns around he finds him leaning in the doorway, arms and legs crossed as he watches Sam.

"Whats up Buck?" He asks, moving on to check the boiling potatoes. Bucky shakes his head gently.

"Just seein if you need any help?" He steps forward finally, into the kitchen. Sam looks at him for a second.

"You know how to cook?" He narrows his eyes.

"Of course i know how to cook. Little suprised you do." He says, laying his hands flat on the table, looking over Sam's cooking.

"What? Why are you suprised i can cook?" He sounds offended. And then Bucky is smiling and he just doesn't care.

"Sam, half the time i see you eat you're eating fast food or those weird protein bar things."

"Excuse me!?" Sam's mothers voice calls from the living room.

"Nothin mama!" He glares at Bucky who smiles and moves his eyesbrows on his forhead exactly once.

"Oh you're an asshole." Sam says and turns back to the stove.

"Yeah... i know. But I'm an asshole who's offering a service. You takin it or leavin it?" He turns again, Bucky's hands are at his sides, palms out, questioning. Sam watches him, thinks it over, sees Bucky's foot start to move and says,

"Can you mash potatoes?"

"Can i mash potatoe? Sam is now really the best time to brush up on your dancing?" He says, moving forward and taking the bowl of now strained boiled potatoes from Sam. Sam swears he hears his mother snort in the other room.

"You- what?"

"The mash potatoe. It's a dance. Was a dance? Is a dance." He decides, taking the mixer off the counter, dodging around Sam as he's frozen in confusion.

"Oh right, yeah. Good one." He says, sounding far away. He'd gotten the joke. He KNEW what the dance was. But Bucky joking had... knocked him off balance.

He watched as he began to get the potatoes going, saw that small smile on his face, and had to shake his head. A joking, smiling, Bucky Barnes, was helping him make his mother dinner for mother's day. He cleared his throat and got back to work.

Dinner was amazing. Bucky and his mother both praised the food he'd made. She gushed over the mashed potatoes for an overly long time, sharing little glances with Bucky that made Sam suspicious again. The fact that she kept looking between them, smiling and shaking her head was not helping.

They headed out late. His mom giving Bucky a very long hug before waving him out the door. Bucky went to stand by the car while Sam said goodbye to his mother. She stood looking up at him for a moment.

"What?" He asked, she had a look in her eyes.

"That boy." She nodded to Bucky.

"Yeah?" Sam asked, head tilting as he glanced at Bucky and then back to her.

"He's a good one. Nice manners. And funny." She said, inclining her head and swatting at Sam's chest.

"Funny? He's funny?" Sam asked, skepticism pressed into his voice hard, to keep up appearances. His mother looked at him, her hip cocking to the side.

"Yes. Funny. Charming too. And a bit sad." She said, looking out at Bucky, who had the decency to pretend to be looking at the stars.

"Yeah. I guess he's-"

"But not around you."

"Huh?"

"He's not sad around you."

"Mama how could you know that?"

"He has these little lines around his eyes when he's around you. Like he's smilin even when he isn't."

"He-"

"Just cuz he isn't smiling doesn't mean he isn't happy to be there." She said, cryptic as always when important things are being said.

"Happy to be where?" Sam asked, though he was pretty sure he knew her answer.

"Whereever you are." She smiled up at him once more and then pulled him close, and thanked him for a lovely meal, same as every year.

Sam walked to the car slowly, Bucky was still looking at the sky. Sam unlocked it and Bucky looked at him finally, nodding before sliding into the passenger seat.

They drive in silence for awhile before bucky sighs and relaxes farther in his seat. "There's so many stars out here." Sam glances at him, his eyes are still fixed on the sky. So he hadn't been pretending, he was genuinely transfixed by the sky.

"That was one of the best things about Wakanda. Besides the quiet. At night you'd look up, and it was just a sky full of stars." Bucky hadn't mentioned much about his time in Wakanda, to anyone. Sam was pretty sure he just wanted to have something to himself. He glanced at bucky again.

"There are places around here like that. Places you could go. You could probably buy a house in a place like that." Sam said, they'd never talked much about that either. Bucky having a place of his own. Sam could see him nodding, could see that small smile on his lips. "That'd be nice." He said, sighing again as the warm air blew over his skin. Sam cleared his throat and forced himself to keep his eyes on the road.

"So, where to next?" He said, for something to say really. He knew they were heading home. He felt Bucky shrug heavily next to him. And then felt Bucky's eyes on him. Sam turned to look at him, cautiously.

"Wherever you want, it's good with me."

And Sam saw it. What his mother had been talking about, the little lines around Bucky's eyes. He was smiling, without smiling. And he was looking at Sam. And he knew, just then, for that moment, he'd go anywhere with Bucky, do anything for him, as long he kept looking at him like that.

Sam smiled then, and huffed out a laugh as he moved his eyes back to the road. He heard Bucky do the same, saw a flash of white in his peripheral vision that ment Bucky was full on smiling, before he turned to look out the window once more. Sam took a deep breath, letting the warm air whisper agaisnt his skin as he drove them back to the city, hands twitching on the wheel when Bucky shifted in his seat and let his hand rest loosely on the console between them.

Sam almost reached out. He suddenly longed to touch him, and though the hand lying there was metal, it was still Bucky's. He glanced at Bucky again and made himself a promise.

Soon.

Soon he'd reach out. He'd touch him. He'd reach out and change things. The next time Bucky smiled. Under a sky full of stars.

#my writing #sambucky #winter falcon #sambucky fic #winter falcon fic

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