#like okay. looking Exactly Like Him i can deal with. the round face and chubby cheeks and dark eyes and thick hair? good

[chaeiimimi]

omg hi love!! if you ever open request please consider this 🤲🏻 but the single mom scenario you did with some more characters like ex: atsumu, bokuto, or iwazumi or anybody!! anyway ur amazing 🗣

hello love! I'm so sorry for the late response, I was kinda getting my life together, but yes! my requests are open! I'll write Bokuto's on the next part 'cause these scenarios are long

HAIKYUU BOYS AND A SINGLE MOM PT.2

Featuring: Atsumu, Iwaizumi

ATSUMU MIYA

the calm music and people chatter contradicted Atsumu's idea of a party, which was loud music, people dancing in the dance floor, dj's and a lot of drinking

but then again, it was Meian's party at his house, he has a wife and two daughters, which was why he was stuck at the couch of his captain's living room, watching the wives of his teammates interact and his teammates were either talking to each other or watching over their kids

even Sakusa was invested in his conversation with Ushijima with his son on his lap

he sat there staring at his phone, aching to leave, but can't 'cause it was his captain's birthday

"Hi excuse me?" Atsumu glanced up and oh boy was he in for a treat

manz really freezes on the spot, did he die of boredom? was he in heaven now? is this the angel taking him to the afterlife? 'cause damn he'd go without any hesitation

you waved your hand in front of his face wondering if he had a heat stroke or something

"sir, are you okay?" you waved again

he finally snapped out of his trance and looked away

"uh y-yes?" he asked, uncharacteristically embarrassed

"are you okay?" you asked worriedly

"yeah, yeah I'm fine, do you need anything?" he asks

you scratched the back of your neck and asked shyly

"can you hold her for a while? I-uhhh- I need to go to the bathroom" you were red as a tomato now, you had no choice everybody was busy at the party and he was the only one who appeared free

Atsumu didn't notice the chubby baby girl you were holding, she had a round face with rosy cheeks, she got your eyes, your lips, almost like a baby version of you with two pigtails on

he was in love for the second time today, but realization hit him fast, and he deflated

he cleared his throat and asked "ohh shouldn't her dad help you with her?" he asks politely while smiling at the baby

"oh, he's not really in the picture" you explained

Atsumu's eyes widen, it's for you to decide if it was because of how embarrassed he is for asking that question or because of happiness that holy shit- this absolutely gorgeous woman is single

"sure, I'll hold her" he smiled and took your baby from you

"what's your name by the way?" he asks, situating your baby on his lap

"oh I'm Y/n, and this is Hana, she's ten months old, you?" you asked back

"Atsumu, Miya Atsumu, and ya prolly want to go to the bathroom now"

you nod and went off to do you business

"hey there angel" he coos at the little girl who was staring up at him curiously

the girl giggles at him and smooshed her cheeks against his hard chest

dear lord save this man from eternal rest

"ya really got yer looks from yer momma huh?" he smirks and bounces her on his laps which garnered fits of laughter and giggles from Hana also making him laugh

"looks like she likes you" you say as you smiled and attempted to go to get Hana from him, but the baby just turned her back on you and clutched his shirt tight

"Baby, Atsumu might be tired, come to mommy please"

"nah, don't really mind, ya should relax for a bit and accompany me instead" he smirks at you

you nodded and you ended up spending the rest of the party with Atsumu and talked about random things

by the end of the day, he got your number before you headed home

he was driving his expensive sports car and called his brother

"the hell ya calling for? ya twerp"

"'Samu what does yer daughter and wife likes to do?"

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

it was the end of another work day for Iwaizumi, he was feeling pretty tired after running around scolding three particularly hyperactive players and attending countless of meetings

and a sight of a little girl being bullied was the cherry on top

he didn't interfere quickly since they were not getting physical with her and just closely listened in

"ew so you don't have a daddy?" the girl in the middle of the group rudely says

the little girl stared down to the ground fiddling with her fingers "n-no, but I-I have m-mama and s-she's the best in the w-whole wide w-world"

"still, you don't have a daddy, that's weird" the other girl said

"you don't have someone to give you a piggyback ride when you're tired what a loser" the girl on the left added

"your mama is probably a loser too since she can't find you a daddy"

Iwaizumi had enough and felt the need to step in

"you should leave her alone" he says in an intimidating voice, but it didn't seem to faze the three girls

"she has a daddy now and that's me now head home brats" he says and went over to the little girl and rested him hand on her shoulder, the girl looked up at him, eyes glossy

"don't lie mister, she clearly said she doesn't have a dad" the girl in the middle says feistily

"well she does now, you better head home before I report you to your school for bullying"

this statement seemed to scare the girls as they retreated grumbling

"you alright?" he asks the little girl with a gentle voice

she nodded

"what's your name?" he asks as he leads her to a bench

"Sara" the girl answers timidly

"where's your mom?" he asks

"she asks me to wait for her here, she's working" she answers and sat on the bench

Iwaizumi nods, inwardly applauding the mom for raising a polite and respectful daughter, despite being a single mother

"I'll wait with you then" he says and sat beside her

"mister?" Sara called out Iwaizumi as he answers with a hum

"hm?"

"what's your name?"

"Iwaizumi, Iwaizumi Hajime"

"would you like some candied fruits Mister Iwaizumi?"

he looks at the girl and she was holding a container full of candied strawberries and apples with toothpicks on them

Iwaizumi nods and took a piece

"mom makes them for me to eat while waiting for her, isn't she the best?" she smiled happily and ate a candied strawberry

it was evident in her eyes how much she adored her mother

"I'm sure she is" he smiled and finished off his candied fruit

"Mister Iwaizumi"

"hm?"

"can I call you dad?"

Iwaizumi was taken aback by her question but smiled

"sure you can"

"Sara!" the two whipped their heads to your direction and saw you carrying a paper bag, a cake box, and your purse, in your office attire

you had a motherly look in your eyes and Iwaizumi was absolutely captivated by you, despite your disheveled state, you were absolutely gorgeous in his eyes

"so much for not believing in love at first sight" Iwaizumi could hear Oikawa's teasing from the other side of the world

"I'm so sorry, I had to get you your birthday cake and gift"

"I told you she's the best didn't I?" Sara whispers to him

"yes, yes she is"

Sara ran over to you and introduced you to Iwaizumi and how he saved her from the bullies

You apologized profusely and he just waved it off saying it was not a big of a deal

"well, would you like to join us for Sara's birthday dinner, Iwaizumi?" you asked politely

"just call me Hajime, sure i'll join you, and you didn't tell me it was your birthday doll, I'll just get you a late birthday gift then" he pats Sara's head

Sara shakes her head "It's fine dad, I'm just happy I got to celebrate my birthday with a dad"

Iwaizumi could get use to this, it was never really in his plan to be a dad at this age, but looking at you smiling teary-eyed as you look at your daughter smiling brightly at him, he would give up everything to see that everyday

was it possible to care for someone this much when you just met them? I guess he got his answer 'cause that's exactly what he was feeling right now

after a night of eating and celebrating, Iwaizumi laid in his bed, fresh out of the shower as he calls someone

"Shittykawa"

"Iwa-chan you're in love are you?"

"how did you-"

"you only call me when you have a problem, I have a problem, or you're in love, judging by your less aggressive voice, I can tell my bestfriend he's in love"

"yeah, yeah, whatever shittykawa"

"so, who's the lucky girl?"

"girls, there's two of them"

#haikyuu #haikyuu scenarios #atsumu x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime #atsumu miya

[one-more-offbeat-anthem]

after the credits

to thirteen years of cas and of the greatest love story ever told...an empty rescue fic for y’all :) 2.3k,  read on ao3 here

--------------

After a while, Castiel gets tired of watching. He’s practically dreaming all the time, but he’s so tired.

Eternal sleep is not restful.

He can’t leave the Empty, but he manages to mold it, with his mind, into a theater. He went to one once, with Dean, and there are probably nicer theaters, like those for plays and operas, but this movie theater is right for him. If he concentrates, he can almost smell burnt, buttery popcorn and spilled soda and old carpet, and Dean right next to him, aftershave and car oil and whiskey.

Almost.

The scenes unfold in a memorable order, because they’re Cas’s own memories. At first, he tried to jump in, alter the scene, but he’s powerless. So, like clockwork, he watches. He’s saving Dean in hell. He’s being stabbed in the chest by the same man he raised. He’s asking Dean to get answers from Alastair and then almost getting the grace pressed out of him. He’s slamming his palm onto a bloody sigil. He’s--

Everything, all of his twelve years on earth, pass by, over and over and over again.

Right now, it’s an early scene, not far into the cycle. It’s not one of his favorites, because he can see the expression on his face, remembers exactly how he felt. Remembers that he he was feeling at all.

“That was a pretty awkward kiss, huh?”

Cas turns sharply at the sound of Dean’s voice. Of course, Dean does talk in this scene, before he kisses Anna. But this Dean is sitting next to him, frowning at the screen.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Cas says.

“I know.”

Chances are this is just the Empty trying to mess with him. Last week a random trashcan showed up in his theater. Or maybe it was last year, or a millenia ago, or five minutes from now. Time is weird.

They keep watching in silence. On the screen, in the memory, Cas’s head jerks away from the sight of Dean and Anna kissing. The scene flips then, to a park at night, Anna right in front of Cas, no Dean in sight.

“For the first time, I feel...” Memory-Cas says.

“It gets worse,” Anna warns.

“So your first feeling….” Dean starts.

“It was something.” Cas can’t look at him. The scene on-screen changes.

Dean, to his merit, doesn’t press.

The memories progress through the year they spent trying to stop the apocalypse, the year that ended with Sam diving into the pit and Dean going off to Lisa’s. Then through Cas starting to work with Crowley, a conversation that happened right behind Dean without his knowledge.

On-screen, Cas is watching Dean rake leaves. The expression on his face is nearly mournful. After a moment, Crowley steps into view.

“Ah, Castiel. Angel of Thursday. Just not your day, is it?” Crowley says.

“What are you doing here?” Memory-Cas asks.

“I want you to help me help ourselves.”

“Speak plain.”

Crowley smirks. “I want to discuss a simple business transaction. That’s all.”

“You want to make a deal? With me? I’m an Angel, you ass. ”

The scene flips again.

“Is there a way to pause this?” Dean asks.

Cas shakes his head. “It just does this, on a loop. I can’t sleep. The Empty won’t let me.” He puts a hand on the armrest between them. “I forced the theater up, to make it better.”

“It looks a lot like that theater we went to once.”

“I know.” Cas stares at Dean for a moment, looks away.

Many of these scenes are things Dean knows of. Cas works with Crowley, gets locked in a ring of fire, feels his chest seize up as Dean looks back for a moment. Watches the Leviathans lead him to a lake. They meet again on porch steps, Cas unable to remember who he is but still able to figure out that Dean is important. Cas gets his memories back, takes on Sam’s hell trauma. They go to Purgatory, Cas stays behind. It’s like clockwork.

Until.

“I don’t remember that,” Dean says slowly, watching himself die on the screen. “You never--you’ve never killed me.”

“Yes and no.” Cas knows what’s coming next--he’s going to kill Dean thousands of times. Each one is the same, with Cas in tears as these copies, mock-ups of Dean struggle, beg and plead, tell him not to. Each time, Naomi makes him do it again.

Until, finally, he doesn’t hesitate.

And she says he’s ready.

As they watch that scene in the crypt unfold, with the real Dean at Cas’s mercy, Dean leans forward, putting his elbows on his thighs and propping his chin in his hands. “You lied.”

“Hm?”

“You said you didn’t know what broke the connection.” Dean twists his head to look at Cas. “But you did.”

“I did,” Cas assents.

They watch Cas ride cross-country on a bus, pulling out his phone and almost calling Dean over and over again.

“Is there a way that we can see some of my memories?” Dean asks.

“You’re not supposed to be here.”.

Dean shrugs. “Well, I am here, and you figured out how to make a friggin movie theater, so I think I can do it.”

The image on the screen shudders, coalesces, breaks into a million pieces and then reforms. Dean is standing on the edge of a lake, picking up Cas’s coat, still covered in Leviathan goo. “You dumb son of a bitch,” Memory-Dean mutters, wrapping up the coat in his arms.

The scene flickers again--the coat in those same hands, moving from car to car to car, and then being passed to Cas. “I always knew you’d come back ,” Memory-Dean says. It’s a soft scene, almost, but then it flips to Dean seizing a monster’s collar in purgatory. He’s covered in blood and grime as he shoves the monster up against a tree, practically growling, “Where’s the angel?”

Even after the monster answers, Dean guts him.

It’s a cycle. The memory blurs through sleepless nights, through Dean stepping into streams to pray, prayers Cas knows well. It pushes past Cas letting go of Dean’s arm in the portal, and here’s something else new: Dean sees Cas on the side of the road, sees him outside the window while it pours down rain, sitting bolt upright at the phantom sight of Cas’s face.

“Why are you here?” Cas finally asks. This must really be Dean, after all. The Empty wouldn’t know these things, wouldn’t be able to dream them up. They’re too good, too honest.

“To bring you home.” Dean kicks the back of the seat in front of him, leans back in his own chair.

“I can’t go home.”

“You should.” The scene on screen rapidly changes--it’s Dean as he looks now, carrying a little boy on his back. The little boy is blonde, round-faced, holding onto Dean’s neck for dear life, laughing as Dean swings around.

“Is that--” No, it can’t be.

“Yep. He’s four, you know.” Dean clears his throat. “He misses you.”

“I wish I could have gotten to say good-bye.” Cas trails off.

“Come home. Then you never have to say it.”

Cas shakes his head. On the screen, Dean is reading to Jack, Jack following the words with a chubby finger. “It would be...awkward.”

“How?” Dean raises an eyebrow. “We’re family, dude. Jack misses you, Sam misses you, and Eileen’s been hanging around, and me…” Dean clamps his mouth shut.

That’s why.

“Things aren’t going to be the same. Not after…” Cas takes a deep breath. “What I said. We won’t be able to ignore it.”

“Then we won’t.”

“Dean--”

“You don’t know?” Dean’s eyebrows furrow. “You don’t know. Okay. I, uh…” The screen turns black.

“You what?” Cas is almost afraid to know.

“I didn’t want you to see this.”

The blackness unfurls into Billie’s library, Dean standing in front of her. They’re clearly in the middle of a conversation.

“What do you want me to say?” Memory-Dean asks. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t matter. ”

“Don’t you?” Billie replies.

“I couldn’t save Mom. I couldn’t save Cas. I can’t even save a scared little kid. Sam keeps trying to fix it, but I just keep dragging him down. So I’m not going to beg. Okay, if it’s my time, it’s my time.”

“Dean--” Cas starts, but Dean just looks at the floor, like he’s trying to avoid this.

“You really believe that,” Billie says. “You wanna die.”

“When was this?” Cas asks, speaking over the rest of Billie’s statement.

“It was...right before we, uh, got the call from you. That you were back.” Dean leans his head all the way up, looks at what would be the movie theater’s ceiling, if it wasn’t in the void. “I had a bad time. I…I would show it to you. But I don’t want you to see me like that. I held it together enough to wrap your body and burn it…”

“Hunter’s funeral.”

“Only kind I know how to do.” Dean swallows, audibly. “I’m doing what I can now. Having Jack to take care of, and Eileen around, too, helps. But it’s…” He finally looks at Cas again. “Please let me take you home. Please come home with me.”

Cas would do anything for Dean Winchester. He has done anything for him before. So he will grant him this, at least the illusion, because Cas knows he can’t leave the Empty. He’s trapped here for eternity.

He takes Dean’s hand.

-----------------------------------------

There is a little boy crawling on him.

“Daddy,” the boy says, poking his face, “I know you’re awake.”

“Jack,” Dean says, from somewhere up above, “Cas is still sleeping.”

Cas blinks rapidly. “‘M not.”

“Shouldn’t’ve said that.” Dean releases Jack, and Jack fully clambers onto Cas.

“I missed you,” Jack says.

“I missed you too.” Cas holds onto him, tight. He’s so small, like he’s supposed to be. A kid. Safe.

Cas thinks he might be in Dean’s bed.

The bunker, he discovers, looks much the same. He was gone for four months, in which time Dean and Sam took care of Chuck, Jack became a kid, and Eileen became a permanent fixture. When Dean and Sam aren’t looking, she signs to Cas, “He already looks better.”

“Who, Dean?” Cas signs back.

Eileen nods. “He had a pretty bad time.”

Dean turns around then, and Eileen presses a finger to her lips.

There’s not a quiet moment for the rest of the day. Sam explains what happened--”You might be human now,” he says, and Cas replies, “I’m not tired yet.”--and Jack wants Cas to read to him and play Barbies and racecars and puppets (apparently Dean built Jack’s little puppet theater, which--).

After dinner (spaghetti and meatballs, and Dean has a Coke instead of beer, Cas notices), everyone goes off to bed, and Cas realizes he is tired, which is something to think about.

He starts to head to the room he typically stays in, but Dean seizes the top of his arm. “Nope, you’re coming with me.” Dean drags Cas down the hall towards his room.

Cas hadn’t gotten a good luck at it earlier, what with Jack climbing all over him, but he sees it now. Dean’s bed unmade, scraps of random paper littered across the dresser, a picture Cas recognizes because he and Dean are wearing cowboy hats, and now he knows how Dean was really doing right before that case in Dodge City--

There’s also a dent in the wall. That’s new.

Dean follows Cas’s gaze. “I chucked a whiskey bottle at it. Sam took the rest of my stash the next day.” Dean steps over, brushing the drywall’s cracks with his fingers. “I didn’t fix it up so I wouldn’t forget.”

I couldn’t save Cas. I can’t even save a scared little kid. Sam keeps trying to fix it, but I just keep dragging him down. So I’m not going to beg. Okay, if it’s my time, it’s my time.

“Dean,” Cas says, “Tell me in words.”

“What?” Dean turns away from the wall. “Tell you what?”

“You know.”

Dean swallows, licks his lips. “I’d say don’t ever do that again on the whole dying thing, but I said that to you once and you didn’t listen. And maybe if I say it the right way now, you’ll stay, but…” Dean slumps, sits on the bed. “You can’t leave again.”

Cas touches the wall himself before sitting next to Dean on the bed. “I’m not going to.” He isn’t sure if he’s allowed to touch Dean.

Dean touches him instead, leaning into Cas, finding one of Cas’s hands, holding it tight. He’s crying, Cas realizes. “I love you,” Dean says into their joined hands, then his chest wracks with a sob. “I was always so sure that if--” another sob, “If I said it, you’d leave. Get taken away from me.”

“I’m not going to leave,” Cas repeats.

He isn’t sure how long they sit like that, but Dean finally straightens up, lets go of Cas’s hand, wipes his eyes with the back of his own. “Pajamas,” Dean says, standing and crossing to the dresser. “We gotta get you some of your own, but…” He digs a pair of sweats out of the drawer and tosses them to Cas. “These’ll do for tonight.”

Cas doesn’t ask if he can stay. Dean doesn’t ask him to leave.

With the lights out, it’s pitch black, almost as inky as the Empty, but Cas can hear Dean breathing, so close to him. The bed is almost too small for both of them, so they’re nearly chest-to-chest. Hardly ever have they been this close. Never did Cas dare to dream it.

In the dark, under the covers, the world outside of this room, Dean kisses him. It’s flat, soft, a brush of lips, the barest ghost, but it’s enough. More than enough.

Cas is home.

#offbeatwrites #it's DEANCASAVERSARY #IT'S CAS DAY #IT'S CAS'S BIRTHDAY #it's also one of my best friend's birthdays she has the best birthday huh #anyways I don't really know where this fic came from I just went hey. what if cas hadmovie theater #and I LOVEEEEE the trope of them showing each other their memories. there was so much stuff that if they'd just TALKED about it.......... #god. #anyways! enjoy :) #also yeah minor similarities to a drabble I wrote this summer #that was very much an accident but I think they're different enough

[jungxk]

crush

filed under. i totally forgot i wrote this. also i like the name eunmi sue me 

notes. thank you to @lonelyending for reading thru this crusty story and making me feel good enough about it again to post it. also @suga-kookiemonster bc im pretty sure i sent u this like a year ago and u told me to post it it but....i forgot abt it shdgjsgd. writing/life in general has been hard recently so pls accept this kookfic to hold yous over until i update just one

genre. fluff, light comedy, light angst, smut

warnings. smut (oral sex: f receiving, penetrative unprotected sex) 

length. 5.1k

the first thing jungkook thinks when he sees you is wow.

he hasn't been up for very long, and you don't even know he's looking at you through the window. yoongi-hyung has wrapped you up in his arms as you sob and sob, muted behind the protective hospital glass. even with messy hair and wet eyes he's starstruck. it's why he recoils slightly when jimin and namjoon explain to him that you're his wife.

"my," he can't even say the word. "my..."

"your wife," namjoon repeats. "you know what a wife is, right? marriage?"

"yes," jungkook huffs, digging his nails into his scalp. "i lost my memory, hyung, not my fucking brain cells." 

he suddenly registers the gold band glistening on his left hand, simple and heavy. he has to take a second to collect himself. "but...but i'm twenty-three. right? i am twenty-three, yeah?"

"yeah. you are," jimin says softly.

"then how the fuck am i already married? not that i'm complaining i just," he suddenly turns pink at the thought of you in a wedding dress, clinging onto his arm, breakfast dates, late night ramen runs at the convenience store, painting the living room in a house you probably share, naked in bed on top of him. jungkook clears his throat. "it just seems a little out of character for me. i can't commit to a pair of shoes for a week let alone-"

"i think it's best if you just spoke with ____," jimin finishes before jungkook can work himself into a frenzy, a comforting hand laying on his shoulder. "you two need to talk anyway and it's best if all these answers came from her."

jungkook gulps at the thought of speaking to you, seeing you face to face. suddenly he's a cripplingly shy fourteen year old again.

"okay." he croaks. "okay."

x

x

x

you were even more beautiful up close.

your tear stained cheeks are glowing and blotchy when you perch on the chair beside his bed, big eyes fluttering up at him nervously. you're soft and plush and shorter than he thought and jungkook has to fist his hands in the sheets and play a counting game with the heart rate monitor in order to maintain eye contact. he feels himself start to sweat when you smile sadly at him. "sorry, i just...i don't know how to be around you normally without making you uncomfortable," you say quietly, wringing your hands together to avoid touching him.

"uncomfortable?" he queries, gaze latching onto the ring on your hand. seeing it on you gives him a nice feeling.

you nod into your lap. "yeah, um..." you look at your scuffed shoes, searching for the word. "we're usually very...touchy."

he can feel himself turning red again. "t-touchy?"

you meet his eyes and a pretty smile breaks over your face at how bashful he looks, making jungkook's cheeks tinge even pinker than they already are. you nod cutely so your earrings tinkle, eyes shining, and suddenly he understands without any context why he fell in love with you, why he married you so young. you let a comfortable silence settle over the room before taking a deep breath, bracing yourself. "how much do you remember, jungkook?"

he tries not to cave under the weight of his guilt. "not a lot about...you, that is," he finishes with a wince, your sad eyes immediately making him wilt with shame. "i remember everything up until a couple of years ago. we had a show at the japanese dome, debuted in america, and then...nothing. and now..."

"and now," you echo softly. your eyes look distant, staring at the floor.

"i'm sorry," jungkook whispers, chin touching his chest. "hyung told me...they all told me how much i loved you and...and i'm sorry i don't remember any of it. i'm so sorry."

you shake your head gently. "don't be sorry, jungkook-ah," the pet name makes his ears perk up. its a familiar, calming sound. "none of this is your fault. you didn't ask to get hit by that car." your expression turns remorseful, tugging at his heart. "if anything, this is because of me. the only reason you were out was because i asked you to go and get eggs and formula even though i should've remembered to pick some up on the way home and-"

"no, no! please don't blame yourself," jungkook tries, wishing he was close enough or even brave enough to take your hand. you look up at him and he catches a glimpse of the endless pool of love you harbour for him, like a punch to the chest. "i don't ever want you thinking this was your fault. so ple-" he pauses. "wait, formula?"

the door bursts open before he can finish, pitter patter steps rounding his bed until it reaches the other side, where you sit. a little girl with big dark eyes and curls of dark hair stares at him in wonder and elation, her cheeks dimpling just like yours before she screeches, "appa!"

jungkook's mouth goes dry. appa?

you're quick to intervene, putting yourself in the toddlers path to scoop her up in your arms. her grabby little hands struggle over your shoulder, fingers wriggling in attempt to get as close to jungkook as possible. he only stares with wide eyes and an open mouth, heart hammering in his chest when he sees the uncanny resemblances: his round nose. your brown skin but just a twinge fairer. his hooded eyes. and his stomach lurches.

"shhh, eunmi," you coo as you carry her away even with her squirming. "remember what i said before? appa is sick. appa is sick, baby-"

"we have a child?" jungkook wheezes, eyes starting to glaze over. there's a bout of silence when you look back at him guiltily, the baby's fumbling grinding to a halt when she registers the tension in the air. jungkook's breath is barely a whisper. "is that my daughter?"

your face crumples with a fresh bout of tears and eunmi looks on worriedly. she pushes her little lips into your cheek in a baby's kiss, like she's seen her father do so many times to get your attention. the word "amma," is muffled into your skin until you get yourself together and press a short kiss to her head.

yoongi rushes in, face twisted in apology. "i swear to god i turned around for one minute and-"

"it's okay, yoongi," you say quietly, stroking the baby's head. "eunmi, stay with uncle just a bit longer, okay? amma will be back in a minute..."

"appa," she whines over your shoulder, reaching for jungkook who sits helplessly in his bed. he watches with tears wetting his eyelashes, heart twisting in agony at the sight of his child he doesn't remember stretching her arms out for him. she begins to cry when he doesn't react or coo her. like he used to.

"take her, yoongi," you say shakily, passing the baby to him. the sound of eunmi's crying makes your heart shatter all over again, yoongi's quiet hushing doing nothing to qualm her sobbing as the heavy door closes behind them.

the silence that falls between the two of you is nothing short of excruciating. jungkook's head spins, completely overwhelmed: is that why you both got married so young? because of a child? was this why jimin and namjoon wouldn't say a damn thing about his life until he spoke to you first?

and then all the other questions that followed: was he a good father? when was his daughter's birthday? did she like kimchi and banana milk too? did he sing to her? read to her often?

would she ever forgive him for not being able to remember her?

"her name is eunmi," you say, looking down at the floor when jungkook starts to cry.

x

x

x

jungkook doesn't understand how his baby could be so pretty. she's golden brown like those sandy beaches on postcards, with chubby cheeks and twinkling dark eyes that resemble yours to a t, and that's when he realises of course she's beautiful. she's yours. you balance eunmi on your hip while you make coffee - decaf, since you're still weaning - and despite the amnesia jungkook feels like he's been here before, in this warm, happy place that is the kitchen.

"she got your nose though," you remind him, dumping the baby in his lap upon her fussing. she always seemed to wind down under his touch, and although nervous about the sudden responsibility of fatherhood, jungkook is compelled to give it. eunmi doesn't understand anything's changed so he doesn't see why he should act like it. "she's whiny before her milk too. like you."

"hey!" he retorts, but can't exactly defend himself. he twirls his fingers around her curly pigtails until she catches on and tries to stand on his thighs, reaching for his hair to yank. jungkook lets her. he's barely known his daughter a week and he's already so smitten he'd let her gut him open with a butter knife.

"she missed you, you know. when you were in hospital all this time," you say, making him look up to watch you stare into your drink. the fear still lingers in your eyes, faint and persistent. he can see it every time you look at him and it makes his body yearn to touch you like he once did, like he once would have before his brain unlearned everything his heart didn't. you laugh while watching eunmi pull his hair again, making him hiss. "even yoongi tried but no one coddles her as much as you."

"really?" he asks, face lighting up. he's so happy to hear that. jungkook hates the way the question bubbles up in the back of his throat, like it'd make a difference or it'd change how he felt. but he has to ask it. "is that why...is that why we got married so early, then?" he says, trying to sound as offhand as possible. "because of eunmi?"

you chew your lip. "yeah. i mean, you said it wasn't a big deal. because you were going to marry me eventually so it didn't make a difference, but...it doesn't really matter i guess, because that's not what everyone else thinks," you pause, tracing the rim of your mug again. "that's certainly not what your fans think."

jungkook doesn't even want to think about it. the backlash, the gossip, the name calling and dehumanisation. for the first time in his life jungkook couldn't give less of a shit about his reputation. "i'm sorry," he says, feeling like the word has lost meaning by now with how much he's said it. "i'm so sorry. not for this, for us or for eunmi. i don't regret any of that i just," he shifts the baby in his lap, still getting used to her weight. "i can only imagine what you went through."

you look a bit bewildered. "...you said that last time too." you smile again reassuringly. "please don't feel solely responsible, kook-ah. you didn't exactly get me pregnant on your own."

he flushes tomato red and you giggle at him until eunmi joins in too.

x

x

x

jungkook can't keep his eyes off you while you play with the baby, comb out her hair, sing her lullabies while you bathe her together. he'd always wanted a whirlwind romance as a teen and it looks like he finally got it, because he can feel himself fall head first in love with you (all over again). it didn’t make sense for someone to be so collected and easygoing after having motherhood forced onto you so abruptly. you tell him often that he's a picture-perfect dad, but jungkook still doubts he compares.

"does she need a change?" he asks, struggling to keep all of eunmi's wriggling limbs in his grip.

"nope, just hungry," you say, reaching out when he passes the baby to you. you're about to stand up and go to the guest room to feed her, but jungkook is already arranging the pillows next to him for you, grabbing a baby cloth on the side too.

"do you need another pillow?" he muses aloud, but he's already grabbing the ones on his side of the bed before you can answer, forming a wedge for you to sit nicely beside him. he looks up at you when you fail to move. "are you okay?"

"yeah i, um," you chew your lip nervously. "you don't...mind me feeding here?"

you immediately regret the question once it leaves your mouth. jungkook's crestfallen expression hits you right in the stomach, round eyes glittering up at you. he hasn't looked this upset since he woke up nearly a month ago. "why would i ever mind?”

"oh jungkook," you sniff, sitting beside him. he pulls you into the nest of pillows beside him, arm winding protectively around your shoulders. your eyes brim with sympathy tears, tired and angry and upset with treating him like a stranger.

"if i make you feel uncomfortable, i can go," he offers quietly. "if it makes you feel weird i understand..."

"no, not at all," you rush to stop him, suddenly realising how close you are. you could kiss his pink little lips if you just tilted your head up. "i just didn't want to make you feel weird. all this new stuff is happening to you, you're suddenly a husband and a father with no recollection of signing up or it and i just...i don't know how much you want to invest the second time around," you scramble to finish your sentence when he pins you with a concerned expression. “as in, i understand if you don’t want to make the same choice twice. it’s a big decision.”

he shakes his head dismissively. there wasn't a thing in the world that could make him turn his back on his family but it looked like you still needed convincing. he peers at you curiously when you position the baby. "so i can stay?"

you smile at him eagerly. "of course," you undo the nursing strap of your bra before the baby finally latches. "i actually prefer it when you're here. it makes me feel safe."

jungkook watches quietly while you hum for the baby, playing with her little hand while she drinks. the adoration seeps out of him in waves, how serene you look while you rock her, how angelic eunmi looks while she blinks her big doll eyes up at you both. she won't stay this little forever. he feels so overwhelmed by it, gathering you further in his arms with the urge to hold his family in his hands like a diamond. you don't question the little sniffles jungkook buries into your hair, resting your head on his shoulder wordlessly. you missed being held by him, missed his cotton scent and gentle breath.

"i love her so much," he whispers into the shell of your ear, entranced by the baby's little gurgles and gulps. he reaches out to run his knuckle over the velvet of her cheek, round and stuffed with milk. "i feel like i'll die, i love her so much."

"me too," you smile. "it was scary and hard for a long time but...i'm so glad we had her. i wouldn't trade her for anything."

you feel jungkook's lips trace your temple, heart stuttering upon the sudden contact. you hear what he doesn’t say: i wouldn't trade either of you.

x

x

x

"why are you so sweaty?" jimin scowls, noting the dark patches under jungkook's t-shirt when he tries to take the baby from his arms. "it's not even humid today."

jungkook doesn't do anything but gulp and cuddle a sleeping eunmi closer to his chest. she's become somewhat of a security blanket for him; even if she wasn't awake to play, he was always itching to hold her and nuzzle into her head when he's tense or embarrassed. like now.

"leave him alone, you know he sweats when he's shy," yoongi grins.

"stop it," jungkook mumbles.

"shy? what for?"

"because he's got a crush on his wife," namjoon snickers, knowing jungkook would whack him one if his arms weren't around his kid. "why are you looking at me like that? it's true!"

"but you can't just say it! she'll hear!" he hisses.

"you're married," jimin deadpans but it only makes the younger boy curl in on his baby more. "god, this reminds of when you two met. remember how he used to hide behind manager hyung every time ____ came in? and then i had to listen to them fuck in the next room for a year only to end up back here all over again-"

"jungkook," you call. "where did these come from?" you walk into the sitting room with a bouquet of yellow roses nestled in your arms. "did a fan send them? i didn't see a note they were just on the worktop-"

"th-those are for you," he mumbles. "i got those for you."

you look so pretty when you stare it makes him sweat harder and the three older boys all but burst a vein in their head trying not to laugh when leaving the room. there's an awkward silence where you clutch the flowers and he clutches the baby. "thank you," you say finally. "they're beautiful, i love the colour yellow..."

his big doe eyes round up to look at you even though the lower half of his face is smushed into pigtails. "you're welcome."

"can i kiss you?" you blurt out, too fast to stop it. your cheeks are still stinging and you're pretty sure you have baby powder in your hair but jungkook looks at you with awe as he nods so vigorously his earrings shake.

so you do, leaning over the arm of the sofa to press your mouth over his long enough for both your breaths to catch. you pull away, moving to sit next to him so his free arm can wind around your shoulders when you kiss him again. "please," he mumbles when you part. "please don't ask to kiss me. just do it," he leans for another long, warm kiss that leaves you light headed. "stop tip-toeing around me, okay? we're married. i know i scare easy, but not that easy."

you feel giddy, finally feeling the weight being lifted piece by piece. "okay," you peck his mole endearingly before scooting up for another kiss. "i missed this."

"me too," he hums into your mouth. "it feels like the first time but also...not the first time, you know? not just because i don't remember but like," he doesn't know how to say it, wetting his lips thoughtfully. your chapstick is cherry flavoured, his favourite. "like we've been doing this for longer than both of us even realise. longer than this life."

"i know," you nod. "i know."

x

x

x

after a while, you forgot about jungkook's amnesia altogether. even though the chances of him making a full recovery were slim, it all felt so normal and back to routine, all the kissing and the cuddling and the playing with eunmi. there was almost no room for trepidation anymore. until now.

you moan into jungkook's mouth when he pulls you onto his thighs, big hands palming your ass when you grind into him. he's only mildly concerned that he'll cum in his pants at this rate but he doesn't fret too much: that was secondary to undressing you and touching you and pleasing you and making you scream as loud as he could make you without waking the baby. he has nearly three years of re-learning your body to catch up on and he's eager to start.

he's quickly reminded during this process that you are a master. you know exactly where to kiss him, exactly how much pressure to kneed into his cock with your hips, exactly how much tongue he wants in his mouth until he's whining and damp for you. of course you know his body like the back of your hand - your child wasn't conceived from thin air. it makes him all the more desperate to learn, almost antsy to get his mouth and hands on you until you're writhing and breathless beneath him.

you gasp when you feel his hand slip between your legs, rubbing his fingers over your shorts. you automatically rock your covered wetness into his touch, the long whimper you muffle into his neck sending jungkook soaring through the clouds with pride. you're so lost in the feeling, having missed it so much, you're barely able to squeak a stop! when he hooks his fingers inside the waistband of your panties.

his eyes shoot open. "what's wrong?"

"j-jungkook," you shuffle in his grip, feeling so embarrassed under his scrutiny you don't know where to look. "it's not that i want you to stop but. listen, just," you cling to his shoulders, shivering when his hands drag reassuringly up to your waist. "just remember that...i've had a kid, okay? i'm not gonna look like before."

he blinks. "i don't remember what you looked like before."

"no, i mean like," you lick your lips, tasting him there. "it's still something to keep in mind. i'm not gonna be as smooth and perky in places like all those idol girls you perform next to, so just-" he watches you fumble nervously in his lap, the growing disbelief making him blink. "don't expect too much okay? things might not look the way you imagine them to and i don't want you to feel-"

"stop," he cuts off, tugging you so you're seated over his erection again. the look jungkook pins you with is so intense you can feel your pulse thrum in your ears, the harsh rise and fall of his chest making him appear that much more passionate. "this body," he slips his hands up your top, palming your skin. "made my child. i take offence to it being spoken about with anything less than admiration, even by you."

"kook-ah," you say nervously, but still let him remove your pj top over your head before you laying you under him on the bed. you don't know why your eyes suddenly prick with tears when he traces over your stretch marks and discoloured skin with his smooth lips. "this kept my daughter warm," he kisses under your navel, sliding up to your heavy breasts. he kisses each darkened nipple, swollen from the baby's mouth. "these feed her." he rises further still, before planting his mouth on your forehead in a short peck. "and this raises her. so how can i be anything but proud to touch you?"

"jungkook, stop," you sniff, tears wetting your lashes. your eyes fall shut when he wipes them away with his thumb, lips ghosting over your cheeks and nose.

"what did i say about tip-toeing around me?" he whispers, forcing you to look him in the eye. only then do you see the tears there, all the ardour and respect he holds for you pooling in those brown depths. "i'm your husband. let me be your husband."

you kiss him before you can start crying again, letting him part your mouth and taste you long and hard before finally undressing himself and slipping your shorts off. this is all a first for him, and it's been so long since you've done this it's almost like a first for you too, frantic and messy and desperate to feel jungkook lodged inside you where he belongs. you know he must share the sentiment when he splits your thighs over the narrow of his hips, hooking them there while he gets a good look of his erection rubbing through your slick.

no wonder i knocked her up, jungkook muses faintly. i don't think i can ever stop doing this.

"jungkook, please," you run a hand through his hair, grinding against his cock in encouragement but he still won't take the plunge. instead, your voice reminds him of his initial objective, causing him to saunter down between your legs faster than you can process. he's licking into you before you can have a second thought about it, mouth falling open with a loud moan when he traces around your clit in firm circles.

he has your knees over his shoulders and his arms wound around your hips so you have nowhere to go, nothing to do but buck into his attentive mouth, jungkook's groans vibrating against you until you can barely keep yourself together - he's always enjoyed this as much as you have. which is why he takes his time, explores every crevice and subsequent response, relishing in the gush of wetness when he does something right. he even goes as far as holding his tongue stagnant against your folds so you have no choice but to rub yourself into him for friction, so entranced he is by your invigorating reactions. only when you're squirming and whimpering with deliriousness does he finally give in and resume a steady pace over your swollen clit, two fingers sliding in home so you have something to come around. and you do.

messy and wet and shrieking into the pillow by your head so that you're muffled enough to not wake the baby down the hall, your orgasm drawing out longer than normal as you do your best to ride it out. jungkook carries you through it, gulping down as much of your arousal as he can manage until your hips finally drop back into the bed in post-climax exhaustion. on the contrary, the only reason he stops lapping at you is because you tug him away by the hair, bringing him up to you and between your legs again before he can do anything about it.

he splutters with a moan at the sudden contact of your wetness against his cock again, eyes fluttering shut and allowing you to bring him in, arms and legs winding securely around him so that you're flush against each other, hips rocking in tandem. jungkook is so caught up in the feeling - not the sex but the safety of being held, being connected like this - that you're the one to reach down and position his tip against your hot center, before finally running your hands down your husband's back to cup his ass and shove him into you.

jungkook gasps, breath shaking at how tight you are. you're so hot, so snug around him his eyes shut upon instinct, letting your hands guide his hips and showing him how to move in that perfect rolling motion that you're only familiar with after years of practice. and jungkook, of course, is a fast learner. it doesn't take long for him to take the reigns and fuck you just how you like it, adding in a sharp snap of his hips every now and again just to listen to you squeak in surprise. the wet sounds of your joined arousal coupled with you moaning under him is near cathartic, sending him hurtling to his finish line.

but before he can get there you shift him over, thick thighs helping you roll and pin him under you on the bed. jungkook grapples at your waist when you resume a slower but harder rock of your hips that has his length grinding against your clenching walls, his head thrown back at the intensity of it. you ride him through it, peppering the moles on his pretty neck with kisses and sucks, mouth finding his stiff little nipple to give it a swirl too. it's exactly what he needs to finish off, fingers digging into your flesh as he bucks wildly, filling you full of his seed while he calls your name. you slow to a stop when his hands finally fall limp on your thighs, his chest heaving under you and covered in sweat. you giggle. he always got so sweaty.

"you did so well, kookie," you whisper, kissing his damp neck and collar bones. his arms are suddenly around you again for comfort. "you were so good for me...always so good to me..."

"you," he croaks finally, eyes half lidded and a little delirious. "you didn't finish?"

you giggle at his genuine concern, pecking his wet lips. "i got mine, remember?"

"how many times?" jungkook is suddenly alert, tugging your wrist to get your attention before you can climb off him. his other hand is still around your middle so moving was out of the question until he allowed it. he was still inside you. "how many times do i usually make you come?"

you blink in embarrassment. you never really thought about it, let alone counted. "um...i don't know..." he waits for an answer, awfully serious about it. "a-at least two or three, i guess."

you yelp when he flips you back over, fingers immediately prying your cum soaked folds apart to nestle inside. "then don't act like we're done."

#jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook au #jungkook scenario #jungkook smut #myfic #dont we all love a memory loss au

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Block Party Barbecue

Fandom: Marvel (Single Parent AU)

Pairing: Chubby!Bucky x F!Reader

As requested by anonymous: Chubby!Bucky and reader are dating and during a barbecue a woman gets flirty with him. Reader doesn't get jealous right away because she thrusts him. Unfortunately he doesn't know how to handle the attention the right way and reader does get jealous over him seemingly flirting back. He doesn't mean to but he's overwhelmed. Maybe with some happy ending? ❤️

The sun was beaming down on you and Becca and the rest of the children surrounding you at the arts and crafts table that was set up for the block party. Becca, at seven years old, was trying to make a bracelet with her name on it. Her brows were furrowed, blue eyes, like her dad’s, filled with determination as she strings beads one by one. 

You chuckle and kiss her head and look over your shoulder to see Bucky chatting with your neighbors: Sam and Nat. A white t-shirt still clings to his round belly due to the water games groups of you played earlier. He takes a sip from his beer and, as if he felt your eyes on him, he looked your way and gave you a wink. 

“I finished!” Becca announces and you turn back to her to see her name spelled out in beads with mismatched beads surrounding it. 

“Great job, Becs! Looks super cute! Would you like me to tie it for you?”

“Yes, please!” she nods and holds out her wrist. You tie the bracelet around her and you bump fists. 

You both get up from the bench and stretch a little bit, “You hungry?”

“A little. Can I get popcorn?” 

“Sure, let’s go see if your dad wants some.” Becca mindlessly grabs your hand and you both walk over to Bucky who’s now chatting with a rather attractive mother. You don’t immediately get jealous. You trust Bucky and you know he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.

When you near, you see the woman squeeze Bucky’s bicep. You know exactly what she’s doing and you’re hoping Bucky catches it. But he doesn’t. Instead, he chuckles and smirks, flexing his arm and allowing her to squeeze his arm again. She squeals in awe about “how strong” he is. 

You narrow your eyes at the two and then gently yank Becca back to prevent her from getting closer to her father, “Actually, he looks busy. We’ll just get some for us, okay?”

Becca replied with a bright, “Okay!” and followed your lead towards the food area. 

The sun was going down and Bucky felt like he hasn’t seen you for hours. He’s seen Becca since she’s ran up to him a few times to ask a question or to show him her latest project. But you? Nothing. 

The lower the sun gets, the more people head back into their houses, which makes it easier for him to see you. He finds you, tossing leftover water balloons to each other and backing up with each toss. 

Becca tosses a balloon towards you and you miss it, which causes it to burst at your feet. You scream as the water hits you and Becca’s laughter echoes through the neighborhood. 

Bucky smiles as he approaches the two of you, “You guys not tired?”

Becca shakes her head, “Nope!”

“Well, everyone’s leaving, sweet pea. Plus, you should get inside before you get sick. You’re drenched in water.”

His daughter’s shoulders sag in disappointment, “Okay.”

Bucky then looks at you and sees you’re staring at your feet, “Doll? You coming with?”

You shake your head, eyes avoiding his, “No, I-uh-I think I’m gonna head home now.” Bucky knows something’s wrong, but he’s not sure what or why. He figured you had a good time with Becca. Then why did you look so sad?

Becca runs up to you and tugs at your arm, “Can you at least walk home with us?”

Never able to say no to her, you nod, “Of course.”

The three of you walk all the way down the street to the court where the Barnes residence sits. When you get to the front door, Becca hugs you, “Bye Y/N! I’m glad you came today. I had fun!”

You softly giggle and hug the girl back, “Of course, Becs.” she pulls away, giving you a last wave before heading inside to take a bath. 

Without looking at Bucky, you turn around and murmur, “Bye,” but he catches your arm.

“Sweetheart, hey. You gotta tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you mumbled with insistence.

Bucky shook his head, “You and I both know that’s a lie. I-I haven’t seen you all day, doll.”

“Maybe if you paid less attention to the women fawning over you, then you could’ve spent more time with Becca and I!” you spit at him and Bucky reels back.

“What’re you talking about?”

“Earlier. Becca and I were coming up to you from behind and you were talking to some woman-some beautiful woman-and she was clearly flirting with you. At first, I didn’t think I had anything to worry about. But then you started flirting with her and making her laugh-I just....it made me feel like shit, Bucky.”

“Fuck, baby, I’m-I’m sorry-I didn’t mean to-I didn’t know-well, no. That’s a lie. I knew what I was doing.”

You whipped your head at him with wide eyes, “W-what?”

But Bucky’s hands are on your shoulders and he’s shaking your head, “No no no! I didn’t mean it like-fuck!” he runs a hand over his shaved head, “She wasn’t budging. I tried giving her so many outlets to get her to leave, but none of them worked. I was freaking out on how else to get her to leave, so I just ran with it? I mean, flirting back with her did push her away for a little bit, but then she kept coming back and-anyway, I eventually told her she misread everything and that I’m happily dating you.” he sighs and cups your face, “I’m an idiot.”

You sniffle, “Yeah. You are.”

“Babydoll, I never meant to hurt you. I just-I was taken by surprise and overwhelmed. Not many people find me appealing so when Caroline came on strong I didn’t know what to do. But nonetheless, it’s no excuse. I’m sorry my actions made you feel like shit.”

You sigh, leaning forward and resting your head on Bucky’s chest, “I sometimes feel like I’m not good enough for you. I feel like I’m not pretty enough, that I don’t do enough to show you that I love you, that I-”

“No, baby. No.” he arms wrap around you as you softly cry, “You do more than enough, for me and Becca. You’re enough, sweetheart. I promise. I was just being stupid. I’ll do better. Promise.”

“I’m sorry for getting jealous.”

“I’ll accept your apology as long as you accept mine for being dumb.”

“Deal,” you murmur and hug Bucky back. 

“Y/N, are you okay?”

You turn around to face Becca and wipe your eyes, “Yeah, Becs. Sorry. I’m just really drained and crying helps tire me out more.”

“It’s okay to cry sometimes,” she says and looks up at you with a heartwarming smile. 

Bucky comes up and wraps his arm around your waist, “You sure you wanna go home? After we call wash up, we can cuddle and watch a movie?”

“Sure. Sounds good.” 

He kisses your head and the three of you head inside the house. Everything was gonna be okay.

#chubby!bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #single parent au #marvel #au #marvel au #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine

[rwprincess]

We Are Not Alone (Brian Johnson x Fem!Reader 8)

Masterlist

Previous

Next Chapter

Just a lil’ one!

Word Count: 2K ish

CW: Bender being previously kicked out/abused; mild sexuality; language/swearing

Synopsis: A new Monday, some new mingling. You get to meet some of Brian’s friends, Allison and John get to meet some of yours, etc. This one of course, is named for the song We Are Not Alone from Breakfast Club. Idk, just felt like a good fit for the meeting-each-other’s-friends/mixing it up vibe of this chapter.

*~~~~*

Instead of crafting a lunch to take with you to school for Bender, he was now standing by your side in your kitchen packing his own lunch. “I could have had turkey and ham all this time?! You’ve really been holding out on me, haven’t you, Y/LN.” You just rolled your eyes at him and let him put together whatever he wanted. You started to discuss what the two of you were actually going to do at lunch. “Hmm, you’re right, Mike’s probably still got his panties in a twist. Seeing you won’t help, either.” He eyed you, and you sighed at the reminder. “I don’t know, I guess we could just grab Allison, if she wants, and head over to the tennis courts?”

“I guess.” You thought about it for a moment before adding, “Maybe I could introduce you both to some of my other friends at lunch, instead.” You shrugged, trying to make it come off as nonchalant, no big deal. Bender gave you that ‘lawyer-look’ and studied your expression, trying to read you and hash out what the offer really meant. But he just nodded in agreement. “Okay, I usually see Allison after third period, so I can ask her then,” you planned out loud.

Bender looked at the microwave clock and picked up his sack lunch. “We better get going,” he stated, opening the fridge and grabbing another soda. It was sure to be interesting arriving at school with John in tow. By now, most of the school had probably seen you together. You took him home frequently enough, and ate lunch together that whole week...but you’d never brought him to school. Something about the morning and the hustle and bustle made it...different. More domestic, somehow, you guessed. Even though he’d only stayed with you for a day at your house, you already felt a kind of sibling-bond toward him. You weren’t really sure that he felt the same, though. You entered the front doors together, but split up and went your separate ways almost immediately. 

You approached Brian’s locker, which had now become almost a daily morning ritual, and saw him talking to another boy that you had seen around before maybe, but didn’t really know. He was about as tall as Brian, with glasses. He had broad shoulders and was a little chubby, his round face still appearing somewhat boyish. You didn’t exactly want to interrupt, but you were curious to see if this was Matt, the guy Brian had told you about, his best friend. Neither you or Brian had met any of each other’s friends, outside of the Breakfast Club. It felt like an important next step. “Hi!” You said cheerfully once you were close enough. The-boy-you-figured-was-Matt’s eyes went a little wide, but then relaxed giving you a sort of knowing look; Brian however just smiled at you, completely forgetting his previous conversation or that Matt was even there.

“Hi.” He said in a kind of dreamy way and you smiled back. After a beat, his friend cleared his throat. Brian almost looked startled that he was still standing there. “Oh! Yeah, hey, Y/N this is Matt. Matt, this is Y/N.” Matt shook your hand in response.

“Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.” You said.

“Likewise.” He mused and looked pointedly at Brian, who all but choked. “How’d your show go?”

“Oh, it was great, thank you for asking. I’m glad to have free time again, though.” You laughed nervously. “Even though I’m not sure what to do with myself now.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll think of something.” He replied, with another glance at Brian, who looked like he was restraining himself from punching his best friend for implying too much. 

“Brian told me that you both have a Knowledge Bowl competition coming up,” you changed the subject, “how’s that going?”

“Well, I’d like to say that I’d be glad to have my life back after it’s over,” Matt began sarcastically, “but what life?” He joked and you laughed. “Really, though, studying for the history portion has been fun. I feel like I’ve learned a lot and I think we’re in a good place for it, even though it’s still a couple of weeks out.”

“That’s great!” You tried to sound enthusiastic, but you weren’t really sure what else to say.

“You’re coming right, school spirit and all that?” He asked, then looked at Brian whose eyes pleaded with him not to follow up, and added “Support your boy here, too?” You glanced up at Brian, who still hadn’t said a word since introducing you. He hadn’t actually invited you to Knowledge Bowl, even though you two had talked about it coming up. You were looking to him for permission, because of course you’d be there if he let you, if he wanted you to. But you didn’t want to push it, just in case. He gave you a sort of half-nod and a shrug.

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” You stated, looking between the two of them. The warning bell rang just then. “I’d better get to class. Catch you later,” you said to Brian, before turning to Matt, “It was nice to finally meet you.”

“Oh, the pleasure is all mine.” He smirked as you walked away.

*~~~~*

“What a delight,” Matt said to Brian as Y/N vanished down the hallway and the two started on their way to their first period together. He wasn’t sarcastic, necessarily, but there was a weird joking tone to his voice.

“Oh, ha ha,” Brian however, did respond with sarcasm. “What the fuck was that?!” He said, turning on Matt.

“Hey, I was just making friendly conversation!” Matt defended, pursing his lips so he didn’t break out into a smile. 

“Yeah, sure.” Brian scoffed. “I hadn’t asked her to come to the Knowledge Bowl yet.” 

“Well good, I got that out of the way for you, then.” Matt joked, but then saw Brian’s expression and cleared his throat. “Hey, like I said, school spirit.”

“Yeah, but you also said ‘support your boy,’ meaning me.” Brian bit back.

“Aren’t you her boy?” Matt asked with a big, devious grin.

“Please don’t make me kill you.” Brian said and pushed him in through the doorway of their classroom.

*~~~~*

You had rounded up Allison, as promised, and met her at Bender's locker. The three of you walked together into the cafeteria to find your friends. "I can't remember the last time I was actually in the cafeteria for lunch." John stated, looking around warily. 

"Eh, to new experiences!" You replied, waving your hand dismissively to his on-edge demeanor. You approached your usual table of friends and greeted them. Then you indicated John and Allison and introduced them. "They're going to be joining us today!" You said, brightly. John sat next to you, and Allison across from you, but both looked about ready to bolt. You didn't notice your friends say anything or give them unwelcome vibes, but maybe they felt it nonetheless. You tried your best to include them in your conversations, even though some of them were more "hobby-specific." You asked them if they had ever figured out a concert to go to and they replied that there was one, two weeks from Saturday for a band called Bombs of the Government. You had never heard of them, but one of your acquaintances at the table, Lucas, seemed to know what they were talking about, and joined their conversation. 

"The Bombs of the Government? They're awesome! You're going to their concert soon? The one with Hit Skins? Rina and I are going!" He indicated his girlfriend sitting next to him. They started talking about different components to the band. John noted how he particularly liked the bass and guitar work, which didn't really surprise you.  You thought back to the Breakfast Club day when he was humming Smoke on the Water and he played air guitar to songs in your car often. You smiled warmly, happy that your friends were getting along and that this conversation now had nothing to do with you. They were hitting it off on their own! You also felt that it was nice to see Allison more in her element and making some connections for herself. You knew she was lacking in her friends and socialization in general. When their talk came to its natural end, you asked Allison if she wanted to see a movie with you sometime this week, as you had promised. She thought for a bit, chewing on a piece of gum she had as the end to her lunch.

"Yeah, I think the New Friday the 13th movie is playing." She grinned at you, waiting for your reaction. Horror movies weren't really your jam but this was more about bonding with Allison and being a good friend.

"Sure! That sounds great." You replied back, calling her bluff.  

Bender looked at you disbelieving, "Seriously? You?"

"Yeah! Why not?"

"Just doesn't seem your style." He scoffed and you ignored him, turning focus back to Allison.

"When do you want to go? My schedule is wiiiide open."

She shrugged, "Mine too. You know me." She popped her gum. "How 'bout Wednesday?"

"Cool." You agreed. 

*~~~~*

Brian walked you to English class, as was becoming a habit for him. "Hey, so when do you want to get back into math?" He asked.

"Thanks for reminding me," you replied sarcastically. "I guess as soon as possible. I really should start getting caught up again." 

"This week, then?"

"Yeah. I'm pretty available. Except Wednesday. I said I'd go to a movie with Allison then."

"What movie are you going to see?"

"She suggested Friday the 13th."

"Wow. Really?" He gave you a similar look to the one Bender had. 

"Yes, really. Everyone seems so surprised I agreed to that." You huffed a little and he smiled at the reaction as well as his own thought.

"Well, you strike me more as a Grease kind of girl, anyway," he reasoned, "even before seeing the show. It just...suits you."

"What is that supposed to mean?" 

"I don't know just that...well, it's less serious and happy endings." He caught your expression and corrected himself, "I-I don't mean that in a bad way! Not like you can't be serious or whatever just. Well, you got detention for setting frogs free, Y/N. You have Bender staying with you because he needed a safe place to be. I think you want a happy ending for everyone, not to watch a slasher murder a bunch of people, that's all." He finished, kind of flustered, thinking he had still said the wrong thing. However, your expression softened. It was such a kind thing to say and it made your heart leap to know he thought of you in that way. 

"Thank you. I didn't mean to sound defensive or anything." You said softly. "So, anyway.  Math." He was surprised you brought it back around to a topic you disliked so much.

"Yeah.  Well, what about Friday again? I have Knowledge Bowl stuff on Tuesday and Thursday, but nothing comes to mind for Friday."

"Yeah, sure. My house again or did you want to go to the library or something?"

"Your house is fine." He said immediately. He tried to cover the eagerness with more reason, "That way we don't have to worry about talking and stuff. Some librarians are really strict about that, even if it's for studying." It was kind of a bullshit excuse, but he was hoping you'd buy it, just so he could spend more time with you alone. 

"Yeah, but librarians aren't as bad to have around as John," you laughed and could see that Brian suddenly remembered again that he lived with you.

"You think he'll still be there by then?" He asked, a bit nervously, and swallowed hard. 

"I don't know. Maybe. Probably." You answered, honestly. 

"What happened, anyway? I thought he was staying with Mike?" He hated the way that name tasted in his mouth as he said it. 

You bit your lip, not sure how to respond. You didn't know how much Bender really wanted you to say on the topic, and the reasoning was self-incriminating for you as well. Even if you did intend to tell Brian, it would probably be a longer conversation than you had time for right now. "I'm not really sure that I can say. I think that's more John's business. But they had an argument and need some time away from each other, or some space or something." 'There, that should cover it.' You thought. He seemed to take that answer as a puzzle and you could see the gears working behind his blue eyes, trying to figure out just what happened; what you weren't telling him. "Um, I'll see you later, okay?" You said and began to head into your class. 

You hadn't expected that he would go to see Bender and ask him about the situation outright. 

Next Chapter

#what the fuck matt? #no but seriously he's my favorite #i love that he and brian are both so intelligent but #together they only have one brain cell to share #80s #fanfic #slowburn #the breakfast club #breakfast club #brian johnson #brian johnson x reader #brian x reader #bender #john bender #john hughes #allison reynolds #reader-insert #no i didnt name more background OCs after another 80s movie i swear #shout out to punk band name generator

[cuddlepilefics]

Glow Stars

Fandom: Stray Kids

Little: Felix (age 3-4), Changbin (age?)

Caregiver: Chan + Changbin

Sequel to ‘Gonna leave a light on’

 Noone’s POV.:

“Dada nu leave Lixxie”, the little pouted, grabbing the caregiver’s sleeve. Chan gave him a sad smile and pet the little’s hair. The leader had been called to the studio by their manager and would most likely come back home late, way past the younger’s bedtime. “I’m sorry, cupcake. I don’t want to go either but I really have to. You don’t want daddy to get in trouble, would you?”, he sighed. Felix shook his head and dropped his hand from where it was clutching the other’s sleeve. Frowning, the oldest turned to Changbin. “Hyung, don’t worry. We’ll be fine. Both of you told me so much about little space, I’m sure I’ll be able to care for Lix for a few hours. The others aren’t even here, so we don’t have to worry about hiding”, the rapper tried to comfort his hyung. He knew how protective Chan was of Felix, which only amplified when the younger Aussie was little. Originally, Stray Kids had a day off, which most of the members used to take a day trip together. They’d only come back after Felix’ bedtime, so Chan and Felix decided to stay back home and let the little regress. Changbin stayed behind with them because he wanted to see how his friend regressed and maybe learn more about little space. The rapper himself had only regressed a small handful of times around the two Aussies to deal with his insomnia and was still unexperienced, that’s why he wanted to learn from Felix. It came as a shock to all of the three when Chan was suddenly called into work while Felix was little. They had always made sure they’d be together when Felix regressed, so he’d be taken care of. Sure, the leader was glad that Changbin now knew about their secret and was more than willing to take care of the little but the caregiver was reluctant to leave anyways. Frowning, he ruffled the little’s hair one last time promising: “Be good for Binnie, okay? I’ll be all yours tomorrow. If you behave well and the weather’s good tomorrow, we can even go to the park and get ice cream. Daddy loves you little koala.” The little held back tears when he hugged his caregiver one last time, not wanting to let go as he mumbled a sad ‘love chu too’ and with that the leader was gone.

Ever since to oldest left, Felix had been in a gloomy mood. Changbin had tried to cheer him up but was slowly running out of ideas, so he just turned on one of Felix’ favorite cartoons and held the little tight as they watched. After a few hours, the young Aussie started to giggle along and by the time lunch rolled around, he had fully warmed up to Changbin. The older made dino nuggets for the little and some egg fried rice for himself, afraid he might feel little if he ate the same as Felix. The little munched happily on his nuggets, telling the newfound caregiver what he wanted to do with the remaining day. Despite talking with a mouth full of food, the older never scolded him. The rapper was too in awe to tell the little off and after the dishes were cleaned, they did exactly what Felix had been talking about. The little proudly showed off all of his coloring books and let Changbin choose a page that Felix would color just for him and one that the little would color for his daddy when he came back home. The little even offered the rapper one of the coloring books but the older declined because he still didn’t know which things could trigger his own headspace, instead he praised the younger for how great of an artist he was. He also made sure to take lots of pictures, sending them to Chan, reassuring that they were having a great time. Before dinner they played a few rounds of tag, chasing each other through the entire dorm to tire Felix out. After blowing off some steam, they had dinner in form off some scrambled eggs and sliced fruit and spent another two hours to watch a Disney movie. With still an hour left till Felix’ bedtime, they settled in bed with the older reading the little some cartoons. The little was laughing at the different voices Changbin imitated and cuddled into the rapper’s arm. Changbin also made sure to remember Felix’ evening milk. He turned on some calm music and dimmed the light, before sitting down on the bed and cradling the little in his arms. While bottle-feeding him, the older watched Felix’ eyes flutter shut and when the little’s lips slowed and then stopped, he pulled the bottle away and placed it on the nightstand before sliding out of bed and tucking the little in.

Laying in his own bed, Changbin envied Felix for how easily sleep seemed to come for the younger. It had been two hours since the little had fallen asleep and the rapped had gone to his own bed only to be reminded of his own insomnia. It was pitch black in the room because unlike Changbin when he regressed, Felix had no problem with the dark. The older knew, that the only thing that helped him sleep was being little but he couldn’t regress while looking after Felix. He chewed on his bottom lip, being stuck in a dilemma. After a few minutes, the rapper decided, it was unlikely that the younger would wake up anytime soon. Not being able to see much with how dark it was, he fumbled around his bedside drawer and pulled out a cute pink pacifier. It had been his first little space gift from Chan and Felix. Assuring himself that he’d just use the paci to relax while staying big, Changbin took the comfort item between his lips and started sucking on it softly. His plan to stay big started to prove itself as much harder than expected and with the belief he’d be able to pull himself out of headspace should Felix need him, the older gave up the fight and allowed his mind to slip.

Having never regressed without somebody who’d care for him, Changbin didn’t think about having to make preparations. He also completely forgot about his little self’s fear of the dark, so when the little suddenly found himself in a pitchblack room, he started to panic. Instinctively, the rapper knew he couldn’t cry out for one of his members, who had come home an hour prior, because they didn’t know about little space and both him and Felix preferred it stayed that way. Clutching Gyu, Changbin shoved his face into his pillow to muffle his sobs, when suddenly a small hand touched his back. His frightened screamed went muffled by the pillow, so luckily none of the other dorm mates got alerted. “Chu otay, hyung?”, Felix mumbled sleepily from where he had climbed onto the other’s bed. Changbin flinched at the used honorific and pulled his blanket over his head before choking out: “Too dawk.” Hadn’t he been hiding his face, the rapper would have seen the realization lighting up his friends face before he scrambled of the bed. There were a few cluttering noises heard, from Felix blindly stumbling into things before he found the switch and the large ceiling light turned on. Lowering the blanket, Changbin blinked at his fellow little, chubby cheeks stained with tears. He rubbed his eyes while Felix climbed back into bed and cuddled him. “Chu wanna be fwiends? Lixxie always wanted little fwiend”, the Aussie whispered shyly, playing with the hem of his sleep shirt. Not being able to speak with the paci in his mouth, Changbin nodded excitedly and hugged his knew found little space friend tight. When their eyes met, their bright smiles mirrored each other’s. The rapper removed his pacifier and giggled: “Chu wanna pway with Binnie?” Felix nodded happily but then his smile dropped. “Lixxie pwomised dada to be good. Good boys follow wules and wule is to follow bedtime. Nu think Lixxie is allowed to pway at night”, he frowned, scared that his daddy wouldn’t take him to the park in the morning if he found out that the two were playing after bedtime. Changbin too looked worried at the other’s statement and mumbled: “Binnie nu wanna be bad boy. Sweep?” Felix nodded and got up. He turned on the lap on his desk before switching the ceiling light off and collecting his paci and one of his favorite plushies. The Aussie climbed in next to his friend, who had put his pacifier back into his mouth, holding Gyu. They fell asleep cuddling.

Chan came back home an hour later, sneaking into his room that he shared with Changbin and Felix. His heart dropped when he found both of them with their pacis. The leader hadn’t calculated the risk of the rapper slipping too and his first thought was ‘What if the others saw?’. Remembering that he had gotten no confused or panicked texts, the oldest slowly relaxed. He took a picture of the two cuddling littles before getting changed and going to bed.

Changbin was the first to wake up and when he did, he was out of little space. He cleaned his paci and stored it away before Felix woke up. The Aussie was still in little space, so the rapper took out a coloring book and pencils to entertain the little in their room till Chan would wake up. They had this day off too, so everyone was sleeping in. When Felix complained about being hungry, Changbin ventured to the kitchen and chopped some fruit, for the little to have for breakfast, allowing him to eat in their room. It wasn’t too long before Chan woke up too and helped Felix to change into clothes that were suitable for going out in public. The leader decided to take the little out as early as possible, so they wouldn’t run into too many people. While they got ready in their room, Changbin told him what had happened the day before and apologized for being irresponsible. The oldest of course forgave him, he knew how difficult it was for Felix to stay big when he felt little. When Chan and Felix left the dorm, Chan didn’t eat breakfast. He wanted to keep the time little Felix was around the other members as short as possible. They knew him too well and would be able to tell that something was off. The pair already had a way of sneaking little Felix past every one else. The younger stayed quiet and only waved happily while Chan explained that he was taking his dongsaeng to the park. Before anyone could notice something and before Felix got the chance to talk, they were gone, leaving Changbin to wonder how often he had seen little Lixxie without being aware of it.

The two Aussies trailed around the park, their fingers intertwined and their arms swinging. They were enjoying the morning sun, when the caregiver spotted a café close by. “You wanna get ice cream now, sweetie?”, Chan smiled and the little nodded excitedly, “Alright, tell daddy which flavors. Remember, only daddy and Binnie and daddy know you’re little, so no talking to anyone else.” It was a rule they had made to avoid Felix giving himself away, should he slip when others were around. He could pass of as big for quite a while but his cute little voice would catch everyone’s attention. When they entered the café, the little stayed close to his caregiver when the older ordered him one scoop of strawberry ice cream and one scoop chocolate. The leader got himself a piece of pastry along with a cup of coffee to make up for his skipped breakfast and the two ate at their favorite spot in the park. It was a small bench, hidden by a few trees but still close to the lake. When they were done, the older pulled out two slices of old toast. He knew how much the little loved to feed the ducks on the lake so he always made sure to sneak something from the kitchen when they went to the park. Chan let his little feed the ducks while he watched in adoration, being certain that one of the best things he had ever done was asking Felix if he could be his caregiver.

After playing in the sun for a while and feeding the ducks, the younger came running back to his caregiver with a huge smile on his face. He hugged Chan tightly, repeating over and over again how much he liked the older and how happy he made him. The leader grinned proudly and returned the hug, promising he loved the little more. They pulled apart and made their way back to the dorm, so Felix could show him the picture he colored for him. On their way back, they passed a toy store and Chan had an idea: “Hey Lixxie. How about we get you a reward for how good you were yesterday? You can choose one bigger item or two small ones and daddy’s going to buy them for you.” The little’s eyes lit up at the thought of new toys and he gave his caregiver a side-hug, almost tripping both of them while he repeatedly whispered “thank chu”. Wandering the aisles, something quickly caught Felix’ eyes and he handed his pick to Chan. The leader smiled at the cute nightlight and the box of glow stars his little had chosen. They went to check out and made their way home with the little skipping along happily.

Back at the dorm they used the same tactic as earlier to get to their room and Felix was quick to also pull Changbin along. The two older, sat on one of the beds and watched the little clap his hands excitedly. “Lixxie got gifts fow Binnie”, he announced proudly and Chan smiled when he understood why Felix chose what he did. Changbin loved receiving gifts although he’d never admit it. The rapper’s eyes lit up and he was quick to slip, knowing it was only Chan and Felix around. The thought of Lixxie getting him a gift got him too excited to stay big. The leader handed him the shopping bag and watched as he reached into it. Changbin looked at the items with large sparkling eyes, lips forming a small ‘o’. First there was little reaction and Felix bit his lip worried his little friend might not like the gift but the rapper was simply too stunned. It took a few moments for Changbin to snap out of it and he was quick to tackle Felix onto one of the free beds, hugging him tightly and fighting back tears of joy. Chan watched the two littles, proud of how thoughtful Felix was. When the two finally let go of each other, the leader split the glow stars into two even piles and first picked up Changbin, so that the rapper could touch the ceiling to put up half of the glow stars. Then Chan picked up Felix to let him place the other half of the stars.

That night, Chan made two cups of warm milk with honey and took them back to their room where he transferred the milk into Felix bottle and sippy cup. It was common for Changbin to borrow Felix sippy, which wasn’t a big deal because the Aussie preferred his bottle anyways. The leader bottle fed Felix and Changbin drank his milk himself, while the two littles listened to their caregiver’s soft voice, singing only for them. When they finished, Chan plugged in the nightlight and lay down. They had their beds pushed together again, so each little could lay in one of the caregiver’s arms and cuddle into his wide chest. From that point on, Changbin would slip every night when he looked up at the glow stars but he wasn’t afraid anymore because the nightlight provided just enough light for him to see his surroundings and being in headspace, the rapper had no troubles sleeping. Seems like his little friend managed to cure his insomnia.

#skz #stray kids #fluff #little #little space #headspace #bang chan #lee felix #seo changbin #agere #age regression

[johnny-and-dora]

i’ll make the world safe and sound for you

jake has some important things to tell mac. (post 7x13)

read on ao3 -

Jake’s spent a lot of nights at the hospital over the years.

Eight years old, nursing a broken arm after Gina dared him to jump off the fire escape (she was the first to sign his cast). Drowsy on pain meds in Florida, recovering from a gunshot wound and a cruel six-month separation from his girlfriend. Most overnight visits have been an occupational hazard, a consequence of throwing himself headfirst into action without a second thought.

Jake doesn’t think he’d recognise that person now, the one who put being the hero and solving the case before anything else. He’s better off for it, knowing now that there is something so much better than flaming out in a blaze of spectacular glory.

Knowing the family he has found in the Nine-Nine. Knowing the life he’s built with Amy. And most recently, knowing the life he’ll be sharing with his newborn son. A whole other kind of spectacular.

This may be far from the first time he’s spent a night at the hospital, but never has he had a night like this one. Never has Jake felt this content, this overwhelmingly whole in his life. Never has his world shifted like this, changed forever at the piercing sound of his son’s first cries. Changed forever yet again the first time he held Mac in his arms.

Deep down he knows he should be resting, knows the adrenaline will wear off soon and that he’ll be pretty much useless for all of tomorrow. He knows that Amy would chide him if she wasn’t fast asleep beside him, something he’s very grateful for – she deserves all the rest she can get.

(She deserves a medal of valour, at least, for giving birth to the world’s most important baby in the precinct with no pain relief. He’ll see if Holt can pull a few strings.)

But Jake can’t bring himself to sleep just yet, knowing that his son is finally here and right beside him. He’s completely mesmerised by this kid, already addicted to marvelling at his chubby little cheeks and adorable round button nose.

Mac clearly can’t bring himself to sleep either, wiggling his little legs inside the blanket he’s swaddled in, and Jake’s heart trips, sparking a huge ridiculous grin. His tiny adorable little face scrunches a little in a way Jake instinctively knows means trouble, so he quickly shifts into Dad Mode.

“Hey there, buddy. It’s okay.” Slowly, he lifts Mac out of the bassinet and holds him close to his chest, bouncing a little awkwardly, but it seems to do the trick as his whimpers subside into the occasional peaceful snuffle. Jake breathes a sigh of relief, content that he’s officially eight hours into fatherhood and he hasn’t managed to screw anything major up yet. Mac seems more comfortable in his arms and it makes his heart swell with a pride he’s barely known before.

“Today’s been kind of a crazy day, huh? Think you’re gonna have to get used to those. Your mom and I tend to have a lot of them.” He glances at Amy, who is thankfully still completely conked out next to him, and the warmth in his chest envelops and encircles everything else. This family of his is magic.

“It’s okay though because we’re always going to come home to you. We love you so much.” His voice cracks a little as he cradles him gently, gently, because he’s holding his entire world, heart and in his hands, and that’s a lot to deal with at two in the morning.

“Y’know, I don’t think we’ve actually been properly introduced,” Jake says, exhaling a breathless little laugh at his own joke as he shakes Mac’s hand. “Hi, Mac. I’m your dad.”

He’s a dad now, and he’s going to be one for the rest of his life. He marvels at that as he gazes at his son, trying to memorise every adorable detail of his face. “Your mom let me choose your name – I hope you think it’s cool, because you were named after the coolest action hero of all time. I can’t wait to watch Die Hard with you, even though you’re gonna be way too little for it for a long while.”

It’s crazy how much time Jake’s already spent thinking about what Mac might be like when he’s older. His son has such a full exciting life ahead of him, and he’s just excited to be able to share all of his favourite things with him, like New York pizza and Star Wars and the best cop movie of all time.

“It’s okay, we’re gonna do lots of things in the meantime. Like play video games and build Legos and watch the Turtles and just hang out like we’re doing right now. And I’m always going to be there for you. Always. You’ll probably have to go to your mom for important life things and help with homework and stuff, because she’s super smart and I’m kind of a mess, but I’ll try my best.”

Mac gurgles a little at that, and it only just occurs to Jake that this conversation is more for him than it is for his son.

“You have absolutely no idea what I’m saying because you are a baby, and I respect that. But you are so loved, Mac. And I’m gonna tell you that and show you that every single day.”

He’s startled out of the moment by the sound of a phone camera shutter as Amy looks tearfully at them both. “Sorry, sorry. You guys are just too cute.”

“Make sure you get our good side.” Jake mumbles, pride washing over him as she laughs. He’ll never stop wanting to make Amy laugh. He absentmindedly hopes he’ll be able to make his son laugh, too.

Amy blearily snaps a few more photos and checks the time before shifting closer to them both, and he’s breathless again – she really is glowing in all her post-childbirth glory, though she’s always at least a bit glowy to him anyway.

It’s totally surreal, feeling his wife nestle into his shoulder as they both happily look at their son. It’s something he’s imagined for so long, yet infinitely more perfect now that it’s actually reality.

Jake yawns, and Amy briefly tears her eyes away from Mac to glance at him. “Have you been up all night? You should really try and sleep, Jake.”

“You need it more. And besides, I kinda can’t take my eyes off him. He’s perfect, Ames.”

“I know. He really is.” Her voice warbles with emotion and Jake knows what they’re both thinking – he was worth the wait, a million times over.

He carefully passes Mac over to Amy. After a revolving carousel of visitors earlier, it’s been a while since it was just the three of them, and an overwhelming sense of peace just washes over him watching his wife coo over their son.

His fears and doubts about fatherhood have not completely vanished – he’s still scared of making mistakes, of the responsibility he now has to the tiny amazing wonderful human currently cradled in his wife’s arms.

But all of the fear is muted now, pastel and pale in the early hours of the morning. It’s muted by the rise and fall of his son’s tiny chest. By the love alight in Amy’s eyes. By the way Holt had rested a hand on his shoulder and told him how proud he was. By his mom’s face as she’d held her grandson for the first time.

Mac’s penchant for a dramatic entrance doesn’t surprise him. What does is how much he already feels like a father, like he was made to protect this kid and will do absolutely anything to keep him and Amy safe. It’s not a feeling he’d be able to put into words after a restful eight hours of sleep, let alone now when he’s borderline delirious with joy.

So instead he presses a light kiss to the soft cotton hat on his forehead, delighting in the way Mac scrunches his nose exactly like Amy does. He’s never gonna get enough of this kid. And he’s certain, now more than ever, that this is the kind of precious love that only grows and grows.

#b99 #b99 fic #brooklyn 99 #jake x amy #peraltiago #mac peralta #listen i know this is like a week and a half late but they have a son and i will never EVER be over it #and this has been written already like 500 times but i will never get enough of jake talking to his newborn son so. here you go #please enjoy #my writing #shut up sian

[itsunclebucky]

Heartache

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Chubby!Reader

Summary: You have a crush on Bucky and confess to Nat and Wanda on vacation. However, when you return home with plans to tell him, you’re left with some devastating news.

Word Count: 1,606

Warnings: Angst, unrequited love, language, fluffy ending (hopefully)

A/N: Starting @the-ss-horniest-book-club​ Friday Drabbles with this prompt sent in by anon:

“Y/N. You have got to tell him!” Nat pushes as you were applying suncream on your bare legs. You had made the mistake of confessing to the girls of your really big crush on the super-soldier back home. You loved absolutely everything about him but you weren’t naive. 

You knew the type of girls Bucky dated. Slim, tall, beautiful, flat stomach, beautiful size thighs, no double chin, long skinny fingers, the perfect woman. If they met the criteria, they would get his attention immediately. And it hurt you because there was nothing you could do about your weight. You were a little on the round side, a round belly, thick thighs to plate your snacks, a double chin if you were laying down. Nothing like the type of girls he liked. 

And you questioned that every day. Why would he notice you when he has these gorgeous women to notice? 

Bucky was never rude to you of course, and your weight has never bothered him. He loved you so much as a friend, he saw you as his baby sister, he was very protective over you and he absolutely adored your rounded tummy just because you were the best person to hug. 

You gazed out at the bright blue water in front of you, palm trees lining the beach as you thought about the opportunity of dating Bucky Barnes. 

“There’s no way he would go for a girl like me.” You shot yourself down. “I mean, look at him. He’s the definition of perfect and I’m this chubby blob…” You trailed off. Nat scoffed and lowered her sunglasses to the edge of her nose.

“Don’t you dare say that again!” She warned. “Bucky loves you. I know it, Wanda knows it and I think you know it too. You have nothing to lose Y/N. What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“Well, he could hear me?” You shook your head groaning. 

“Right and then he’ll say ‘I love you too Y/N. Go on a date with me Y/N?’ Then you’ll know you did the right thing.”  

“Exactly. We see the way he looks at you.” Wanda piped in.

A part of you knew Natasha and Wanda were right. You really did have nothing to lose. Only the awkwardness of the rejection if they had read the situation wrong, but they were adamant they were right. And it wasn’t often they were wrong.

“Oh, it’s soooo good to be home!” Wanda sang as the three of you walked down the long corridor towards the common room. The vacation was perfect and you felt like the weight was lifted from your shoulders. A week in paradise with your girls? What more could a woman ask for?

“Tell me about it.” You grinned, excited to see your favorite superhero. As you near the common room, you could hear voices. The three of you stopped in your tracks to eavesdrop.

“How did the date go?” Sam’s voice echoed.

“I’m tellin’ you man, she is just the best. I had such a great time with her last night and we’re going out again this weekend.” It was Bucky’s voice you heard. Your heart sank further into your chest, realizing your chance was most definitely gone.

“That’s weird,” Wanda whispered. You nodded your head and shrugged a little. “It’s no big deal.” Your lip quivered. “I’m just gonna go and unpack.” You pointed back to the elevator and left before they could stop you. 

“Hey boys,” Nat announced as she walked in with Wanda by her side. Bucky, Steve, and Sam were sitting around in the common room drinking beers. 

“Hey, you’re back!” Steve grinned, jumping up to give them a hug. 

“Where’s Y/N?” Bucky asked looking around.

“Oh-oh-oh… uh, she wasn’t feeling too good so…” Nat lied. Bucky raised his eyebrows to her, knowing when she was telling the truth and lying. 

“Yeah, jetlag. So what’s going on here?” Wanda coughed awkwardly. Bucky didn’t believe them but decided to let it slide for now. His room was just a few doors down from you so he would call in on his way to bed. “Bucky was just telling us about his date with a girl,” Steve smirked happily for his friend. 

“Oh right yes!” Bucky chuckled, running a hand nervously through his hair. “She’s amazing and so gorgeous and just-”

“I thought you liked Y/N?” Nat questioned curiously. She was almost positive she saw the heart eyes Bucky gave you every time he saw you. “What? I have never liked Y/N in that way… why would I like Y/N? She’s just a friend?” Bucky asked confused. 

Tears ran down your cheeks as you listened in on their conversation from behind the door. You sneaked back when Wanda and Nat walked in the room, desperate to know more. 

Why would he like me indeed.

A sob was caught in your throat and your chest rumbled with a silent cry. Your heart was aching so much that it would hurt less if someone would just rip it out of you instead.

You brought your hand up over your mouth and quietly walked to the staircase, knowing the elevator would have alerted them of your lurking. 

“Hey Y/N.” Bruce greeted as he walked past you on the staircase. “Hey, Bruce.” You murmured quietly and kept your gaze to the floor. Bruce looked back and wanted to ask if you were alright, but he just shrugged and walked to the common room where the team was now lounging, laughing and joking.

“What’s wrong with Y/N?” Bruce asked as he stepped inside the happy area. “Nothing, why?” Nat answered with her legs perched on top of Steve’s legs. 

“I just saw her on the staircase and her-”

“What?!” Nat sat up panicked. If you didn’t really leave when you said you were, that meant you had overheard the conversation and heard everything Bucky had said about you. “She was just on the staircase,” Bruce repeated himself, grabbing himself a beer.

“Oh no no no this is bad!” Wanda joined Nat panicking as they shared looks. Bucky huffed out in annoyance. “Alright. I’ve had enough of this. What’s going on with Y/N?” He demanded, shaking his leg. 

“We can’t tell you.” Nat bit her lip, keeping her promise not to say anything to Bucky. “If it concerns me, which it clearly does and Y/N is struggling. Don’t you think I have the right to know so I can fix it?” Nat sighed in defeat. “So here’s the thing…” she began. Telling Bucky everything you had told them during your vacation. 

You were successful in avoiding that night, but you did run into him the next morning at breakfast. “Hey Y/N.” He greeted you with a soft smile. You didn’t want to lose his friendship and it was just a silly crush. You wanted to bury the hatchet and move on, concentrate on yourself. “Hey, Bucky.” You smiled back, taking a long sip of your coffee. 

Bucky stood behind you. His chest was pressed to your back and his hands came down on either side of the kitchen island. You were caged in and couldn’t get away if you needed or wanted to. 

“What are you doing Buck?” Your voice came out shakier than you would have liked. “I’m making sure you don’t run, doll. I gotta tell you something and I want you to listen very carefully, okay?” His stubble pricked your skin on your cheek and you nodded your head. Swallowing the thick lump in the back of your throat. “I absolutely love you doll, so much.” he sighed. “I love you so much that the only reason I won’t date you is that I could never forgive myself if I hurt you. You’re like a sister to me, I love spending time with you, watching movies with you and I promise you doll, I promise on my ma’s grave that nothing will ever change between us. I never want to stop spending time with you sweetheart and nothing will ever stop me from doing so. If I weren’t so close to you, I would definitely date you. Your weight is perfect, you’re perfect Y/N. If anything, you’re too good for me. Do you understand what I’m saying, Doll?” He tilts his head slightly, his stubble digging into your skin more. 

“Yes I- I understand.” A tear runs down your cheek and Bucky spins you around. Catches the tear with his thumb and engulfing you into a tight squeezy hug. “I hope so, Doll. I love you too much to risk anything. If we didn’t work out… I couldn’t imagine you not being in my life. You mean so fuckin’ much to me.” Bucky presses a kiss to your cheek as he continued to hold you. 

Steve, Nat, and Wanda were standing in the doorway with a sad smile on their face. 

A sob escaped you as Bucky pulled away, tears in his own eyes. “Hey, I have an idea.” He said, still holding you close. “How about next week, we’ll take some time off and go to Disneyland Paris?” His eyebrows wiggled and you chuckled. “Just us?” You joined in on his chuckle. “Just you and I, doll.” He affirmed. “I’d love that so much.” 

Tags: @jobean12-blog​ @leosandbuckysgirl​ @sebbbystaaan​ @criminal-cookies​

#HBC Drunk Drabbles #HBC #bucky barnes and reader #bucky barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes #imagine #one shot #prompt #friday drabbles #itsunclebucky #the-ss-hornniest-book-club #bucky x you #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes angst #unrequited feelings #unrequited love

[katelynn-a-fan]

Somewhere Over The Rainbow: Chapter 1

Next | Masterlist | Ao3

Summary: Patton encounters a stranger outside of his door he never expected to find. Little does he know that this one person found on his doorstep will forever change both him and his friend's lives in a single snow filled night. Animosities flare and personalities clash, but none of them can resist those big, round puppy dog like eyes. And truth be told, none of them really want to.

Word count: 5993 / 6k

Warnings: Fear, implied hypothermia (This fic is not for minors, you’ve been warned)

Patton gazed out the window at the few flakes of snow outside the window as they lazily drifted down to the ground in the fading twilight. He smiled at the sight. Fiddling absently with the sleeves of his fuzzy sweater, he leaned on his right crutch a little. Patton’s brow creased as his left foot started to ache a bit. He shifted his weight slightly more on his right to compensate. The relief wouldn’t last though.

It’s officially winter now, I suppose. OH! I’ll be busting out my Christmas sweater soon, then!

Patton’s smile spread wider as he turned away from the window, looking around the kitchen he was in.

The kitchen wasn’t too small, but even with plenty of space it was piled with many different containers of various ingredient types, and most of them looked suspiciously like items for making cookies. Speaking of cookies, there were quite a number of unlabeled Tupperware containers that were quite obviously filled with cookies. So. Many. Cookies. There were even multiple circular containers that had the very obvious design of a very familiar very chubby, bearded man dressed in red with a half eaten cookie in his hand. 

It was totally not Santa, no siree, just a random cartoon of a guy that looked exactly like Santa...

Okay, maybe Patton had already started to get into the holiday spirit, and okay, maybe he was bored being alone without his friends and baked all of these cookies just today and okay! Maybe-

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Patton sighed, adjusting his crutches as he hobbled over to the stove with the grace of a newborn cygnet in a thunderstorm, where yet another batch of cookies shined back at him in the glow from the oven light.

OKAY! Maybe he was still baking  yet another batch of cookies. Sue him! He just loved cookies… a lot. 

Patton propped one of his crutches on the kitchen counter off to the side, leaning on his left crutch to open the stove. He flinched back, despite being prepared for what was going to happen as a wave of almost blistering heat poured from the gaping maw of the oven, hitting him in the face full blast. 

Patton didn’t go to reach for the oven mitts in the drawer beside the oven, instead first inching his face into the heat to see if the cookies looked like they were done. 

Patton studied the cookies, face fading from a smile to an intense and serious half-frown of concentration as Patton sought to complete his task, searching the tray for any of the cookies that looked still the slightest bit wet or soggy. Finally, he spotted one. The cookie had a very obvious spot that looked distinctly soggy and a few of the other cookies around it looked only very slightly soggy. But that was enough, Patton decided to let them bake a little more. Nodding to himself, Patton brought his head back out of the endless waves of heat, snapping the oven door shut with a light  snap .

Only waiting a moment, the heat from the oven cut off from threatening to melt Patton’s face off he leaned too far forwards, Patton added five minutes to the oven timer. The beeping of the buttons that went off as he input the time into the oven filled the silence around Patton. They were only sounds in the silent kitchen other than Patton’s soft breathing, and yet they were like an avalanche of sound.

Patton pressed start, a last beep emitting from the oven before the kitchen was plunged again into silence. Really, that only heightened the wintery atmosphere; the silence reflected the silent snowfall around Patton’s home. The kind of silence that led people to shout: “Wait, it snowed last night! How did I not notice?”

Patton paused, glancing out the window, considering going back to watching the silent snow fall down outside before the thought of the cold outside brought his eyes to rest on the corner of a box on the kitchen counter under some of the items. His lips tugged up in yet another smile.

Oh, perfect! I might just have some of the cookies I’ve made today with this!

Patton grabbed his right crutch that he had set aside for his oven duties, utilizing it to take the few steps to where most of the items were piled on the counter. He hadn’t had the energy to put them up as of yet, but he knew his two partners would help him do that when they got back. They were such good partners like that. Patton was a lucky guy.

A goofy grin spread onto Patton’s face at the thought of his friends. Roman’s little laugh that he always did instead of his full laugh because he automatically tried to suppress anything that would make him use his inhaler, laughing included. Patton hated that he was deprived of such a melodious sound, but his little breathy laughs were (almost) just as endearing. Janus was similarly quiet, but his laughs were fuller much more often when Patton told a particularly good dad joke. Remus was the one that he wasn’t the most keen on, unhinged cackling at the practical jokes he pulled on Patton or his… partners? He had never seen Remus play any jokes on his partners, so Patton had no idea what he sounded like then. Logan’s little giggle when his little buddy Crofters did something absolutely adorable when he was able to play, and finally Virgil's full belly laugh that only happened when Patton or anyone caught him off guard with a particularly funny joke, like Janus, but Virgil  howled . He loved all of their laughter and couldn’t wait to hear it again.

Granted, he could’ve asked Remus to come over as he was the only one in his trio that was still at home, maybe to help get him to stop baking another batch of cookies.

But right now, he was getting that box.

Patton didn’t set his other crutch aside this time, able to stretch out his hands (within his limits, he still had crutches under his armpits to deal with, mind you) to shift aside all of the various food items laid on top of what Patton needed to get.

Having pushed everything finally out of the way, Patton proudly produced a box of hot chocolate packets of various flavors triumphantly. His chest puffed out as he completed the action. The corner of Patton’s lip twitched up.

Score! It’s not opened yet! That means I get the pick of the litter! Yay!

Patton put his hand over his heart with one hand, pressing the box into his chest, dramatically bobbing his head while pumping his fist into the air like a recreation of  The Breakfast Club.

After he was finished, he glanced at the clock despite the fact it was still resolutely still showing 5 minutes left on the timer. 

Patton wasted no time, retrieving his favorite mug with a frog featured prominently on the side. The handle of the mug was made to look like the frog’s tongue, which may have grossed out anyone else if they saw it, but Patton didn’t mind.

Patton hobbled over to the sink with one crutch, leaving the other behind for a bit more flexibility for what he was going to do. It remained, sadly draped against the kitchen counter. He nearly fumbled with the knob and almost spilled his mug, but he was able to steady it before anything was flung onto the counter. Not having any line or indication of where to fill the mug up to for the proper hot chocolate powder to water ratio, Patton simply eyeballed the amount of water he needed. The mug filled to about a third of an inch under the rim of the mug before the water was turned off, Patton having successfully filled the mug with the right amount of water according to his personal assessment.

Before he moved back towards the hot chocolate powder packets, Patton made sure to set the mug down and wipe his hands off with a towel. Patton also ran the towel for a couple seconds around the part of the counter surrounding the sink, to clean any stray bits of water that had managed to splash out of the sink and the mug. When he was done, he hung the towel back up, folding it perfectly like Janus had taught him when they moved in together.

“Towels definitely look nice all wrinkled, folding the towels isn’t a way to make them not wrinkled when you hang them up.” Janus had said in that adorably sarcastic tone that made Patton just want to hold Janus’s face and squish it until Janus was blushing as red as Santa’s signature suit. 

Patton’s smile bloomed into a full blown grin at the memory of one of his partners. He had been  so  adorable when Patton was first able to fluster him. Patton’s heart attempted to full on beat out of his chest as his mind began to wander to more memories of his partners before a slight change out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. Patton glanced over to gauge the source of the change in his vision. Like humans developing their innate sense of danger and perception through trial and error, historically it had been used to spot prey and also potential predators. But in a kitchen in modern society, Patton was in no place for some kind of predator to simply jump out at him.

00:04 

Instead of a predator in the wild, the oven timer had caught Patton’s eye once again. Already, a minute had elapsed.

Patton shook his head, trying to shake the lingering memories of his partners out of his head to help him focus.

I love my partners, but if I want to time it right, I gotta focus. Come on Patton, let’s do this. Cookie and hot chocolate time! Woo!

Patton gingerly picked up the mug on the counter, moving over to the microwave, reaching up with the mug-less hand to pry open the microwave with a  click  that reverberated through the microwave, creating the unique sound that only opening a microwave could evoke. Patton’s feet and ankles protested as Patton edged his weight forward to slightly on his tiptoes, gingerly placing his mug into the microwave to heat it up for its intended purpose that evening. Hot chocolate!

Another unique microwave door click later, the sound of the microwave buttons filled the void the other sound of the microwave left behind as Patton set the microwave timer to heat the water for his hot chocolate up for 90 seconds total. 

Roman’s voice filled Patton’s head this time, his voice colored with playful exasperation.

“But why can’t you just input one minute and thirty seconds like a normal human being? The microwave even changes to that form when you start it up! Heathen!” Roman’s voice hadn’t been serious, but Patton had still responded seriously to Roman’s question with five simple words that had Roman aghast.

“Takes less time to press.” Patton had shrugged, turning away to hide his smirk at the offended noise it elicited from Roman that rivaled the most aghast pearl-clutchers.

This time, Patton didn’t let the memory pull him away from what he was doing as he pressed the start button on the microwave. The newest sound from the microwave, a gentle hum that signaled the microwave was working, filled the kitchen. 

Out the window, the snow began to visibly change direction, previously angled coming from the right, the very light wind began to blow the snow slowly from perpendicular to the ground to slowly start coming from the left. The wind was gratefully not the howling winds of a full on snowstorm. In Patton’s opinion, snow was best experienced overnight with little to no wind.

Patton jumped when the sudden beeping of the microwave startled him, whipping around to the microwave. He had gotten distracted by the snow and generally distracted for the third or fourth time in a quarter of an hour. 

Patton’s cheeks warmed, slowly turning pink despite the lack of anyone else there to observe him become distracted once again.

This darn snow! Making my brain go soft with it’s wonderfulness! Darn you, snow!

Patton shook his fist lightly at the snow outside as he mentally chastised the snow, a traitorous grin spreading on his face despite his attempt to look serious. What would the neighbors think if they saw him shaking his fist at the snow? They would likely think he was off his rocker from an accelerated case of cabin fever. The snow had just started, after all, and Patton had been able to go out for groceries not a few hours before for anything else he needed before the snow hit. That was… where he got a huge portion of the ingredients he had used in the plethora of cookies he had already made that evening.

 Patton’s grin remained as he grabbed the small towel he had used to wipe down the water around the kitchen sink. When he went to grab his now-thoroughly-steaming mug, he placed the kind of damp towel under the mug, a barrier between Patton’s hand and the mug. Even through the towel, the mug was almost too hot to touch. The towel also had an ingenious two-in-one purpose as it would catch and absorb any water that happened to slosh over the side of the mug.

Patton almost gasped as he accidentally bumped against the counter with his hip, tipping his mug so that a small glob of water darkened the still damp towel. Patton tensed as he watched the little bit of water slosh out of the mug, waiting for the scalding pain of the near boiling water to come, instead a slight damp warm thump of hot dampness plopped against his hand. The towel stuck to Patton’s hand where the dark spot appeared.

Patton stood still a moment more, blinking down at the dark spot made by the water, his mind filled with the odd thought of soaked towel hand puppets, before he finally relaxed again. His shoulders, like a coiled spring, dropped down into something more of a loose, flimsy string. Patton laughed breathily as he then much more carefully set down his mug on the counter. 

Patton waited a moment, gazing between the mug and the edge of the counter before he slowly ran the mug across the counter, a couple of inches away from the edge of the counter. No chance to mess up that now. Patton nodded to himself.

Grabbing the box of assorted hot chocolate mixes half blindly, Patton checked the timer, the oven now showing:

 00:02

Patton inwardly fist bumped the air like he did at the window. He didn’t want to make himself look even more off his rocker by doing the same thing he just did a few moments before like he was under the influence or something.. Patton was in full view of that same window, after all.

Right on schedule now! Yes! I still got to mix everything up, but the cookies have to cool still, so there’s absolutely no hurry. Take. It. Slow…

Patton pulled the box directly in front of him. His fingers ran smoothly across the surface of the box, searching for the special tab to help him open it. Eventually, one of his fingers sunk into the box, Patton turning it to see the finger had slipped through the hole where the tab was. Patton flexed his finger, getting his finger under the tab and then tugging. The sound of popping came from the box as Patton began to peel back the cardboard lid that was once a solid part of the box.

As Patton finished pulling the lid back, the hot chocolate mix box now resembled more the structure of an open tissue box than a standard box package. Not those tissue boxes with the plastic there to keep tissues from falling out, but the open mix box resembled those cheap tissue boxes you get. The ones where you peel back a portion of the box and leave the tissue paper open to the elements and the various germs of anyone who used it. Yuck. Even the hot chocolate mix packages themselves, the white thin packages with somewhat subtle color difference to denote the different flavors, resembled very thick pieces of tissue paper.

Patton’s face settled into pensive curiosity, following the packages up and down the structured lines the packages were in with his eyes. Already some of the mini packages were starting to fall over against each other, the box less sturdy now that it was open than when it was unopened on the shelf of the grocery store, relatively undisturbed. 

Patton bit his lip, his left hand rising from the counter where it had been draped to cup his chin, tapping his cheek as he agonized over which flavor to use.

They all sound so good! Milk Chocolate, Vanilla, Mocha, Caramel, even Candy Cane flavored?! I- I don’t know if I can even choose!

“You’re all so lovely, I don’t know if I can pick only one of you!” Patton cried, the sound a mix between a coo and a groan.

The mixes were of course no help, all of them seeming to say ‘Pick me!’ ‘No, pick me!’ ‘I taste good too!’ Patton just  could not pick.  

Instead Patton opted for the most unbiased method of choosing, he decided to merely screw his eyes shut and bring his hand down into the box to pick one. Patton gripped the box and did some preliminary stretches, making sure his hand landed on the box when it landed before he attempted the feat completely blind. He stepped back a little, prepared for what he was about to do

Patton slammed his eyes shut, and raised his hand, holding his breath dramatically as he hand dropped his hand into the box. He rummaged around slightly before a specific package called to him. He gripped the chosen package, extracting it from the others, opening his eyes as he brushed off the other package that clung to his chosen package. It was as if the packet was jealous and holding onto the other one to try and get Patton to choose it.

Patton flipped the package over, reading the vaguely faint text that read  Candy Cane on the package. Patton nearly dropped the package as he bit back a loud squeal. Even though he was alone, Patton still automatically suppressed his squeals, worried he might distress his partners. Patton glanced out of the kitchen towards the living room, face dropped before it lit up again immediately after, Patton’s fist balling up and plastering themselves to his chest as he let out a practically ear-piercing squeal, comfortable in the knowledge he wasn’t disturbing anyone with it as no one but him was home.

“It’s like a candy cane and a chocolate bar had a baby! I bet it tastes wonderful! I don’t think I’ve had this flavor before!” Patton bubbled to the empty kitchen, pushing the box of hot chocolate mix packages to the side.

Patton pulled the mug back towards himself. He also slid the towel towards himself as well. The mug was still scalding to the touch-

“Ah! Fiddlesticks, I forgot what I was doing with the mug. That smarts!” Patton clutched his right hand back from the mug, cradling it with his other hand.

-as Patton found out when he reached out to grab the mug like he always did when he wasn’t making hot chocolate, by the main part of the cup. Not the handle. 

Patton waved his hand, trying to dispel the pain as the skin of his hand turned from light toffee to a dim pink. His hand prickled, the sensation in his hand temporarily muddled by the phantom sensation of heat that remained, not going away with Patton’s hand movements.

Patton’s eyes widened, peeping down at the counter. He flickered his eyes between his hand and the counter once or twice before he placed his hand lightly on the counter. 

A contented sigh slipped from his lips. The cool countertop was the perfect balm for Patton’s hand, a current of ice traveling pleasantly up his veins to chase away the lingering heat.

However, his contentment didn’t last too long as Patton jerked when the oven sounded. That meant his hand was exposed to the air, and that aching heat slowly bloomed once again, radiating through his veins. 

Patton moved a couple steps to the oven, still with his singular crutch. Patton grabbed the oven mitts and slipped them on quickly. Patton couldn’t help but cringe at the coarse material sliding over his irritated skin, but he had to be ready just in case this time. Patton never wanted to intentionally burn his cookies.

Patton flinched back at the wave of heat then. His right hand under the oven mitt was painfully pulsing in time with the waves from the oven, like the oven heat was feeding the residual burn. 

Patton peered into the oven like he had five minutes before to check the cookies. Patton smiled as the cookies now were immaculate, no wet or soggy spots and no dark brown burnt spots either. There were one or two cookies that were visibly close to burning, but other than that, they were perfect.

A satisfied smile bloomed on Patton’s face as he reached into the oven with his left hand. He didn’t want to risk further irritating his right hand. Even though it was a bit harder to maneuver, Patton pulled the tray of cookies out with one hand, closing the oven with a solid  thump. With the tray balancing precariously in Patton’s right hand, Patton quickly abandoned his crutch to quickly set the tray down. Patton cringed as his feet protested the new weight on them, but he finished the job quickly setting the tray down on the counter beside his unmade hot chocolate.

Before Patton did anything else, the light yet still on coming from the oven caught Patton’s eye. Without a moment to lose, Patton leaned over as far as he could before his feet started to  really  protest and shut off the oven with a single finger, though the oven mitt hid the shape of his hand..

Glad I caught that! That could’ve been bad, and a HUGE waste of energy and electricity! Good job, Patton!

Patton started to brush his hand together in a job well done, a triumphant grin on his face, until his still oven mitted hands ran against one another. Patton cringed as the movement again irritated his still tingling right hand. Patton’s only lucky break was that the burning in his right hand had subsided while it was in the gloves. The stinging was only a slight jagged edge against Patton’s palm instead of the many very jagged edges feeling the irritation had caused initially when Patton first pulled back.

Patton sighed, gradually peeling off the oven mitts.

Letting the cookies cool as they needed a bit before Patton could handle them, let alone eat them, Patton faced the hot chocolate mix and the mug he had left sitting there. 

Patton snatched up the mix packet, humming with a stupidly wide grin as he finally tore open the mix, wasting no time before pouring it into the mug of slowly cooling water. Patton finished pouring the mix in and moved back, opening the silverware drawer to retrieve a spoon to stir the mixture into an even and uniform solution.

Patton let his mind wander, but not too far, as the gentle clinking of the spoon against the side of his mug faded into a peaceful background melody of sound. 

His eyes eventually gravitated back to the kitchen window, where he found fantastic shapes in the swirls of snow outside the window. Memories of previous winters past flitted through Patton’s mind, of cozy blankets and warm hugs. Comforting touches danced like phantoms across Patton’s skin, his partners’ gentle caresses and the platonic cuddles of his friends teasing him like vengeful apparitions. Except the vengeance enacted by the spirits was only teasing the gentle touch of his friends and partners, nothing malicious or evil.

When Patton was satisfied, he looked down at the steaming mug of hot chocolate. He extracted the dripping spoon from the solution, tapping it on the side of the glass like the final rings of victory in battle. Patton laid the spoon on the towel he had used to insulate his hand, having no need for it anymore.

The cookies sat, tempting Patton to take one, but he was still unsure if the cookies were cool enough to handle. However, it didn’t take long for Patton’s self control to falter under the irresistible temptation of what he had just created. Patton's face quickly turned pained before he pounced on two of the cookies, releasing his breath as the cookies didn’t burn his left hand as he picked the first one up. 

Patton’s pulse raced, bouncing up and down on his toes minutely as he gathered his things, preparing to move to a more comfortable location to enjoy the fruits of his labor. He retrieved his crutches where he had abandoned them leaning against the counter. 

With a pep in his step, Patton slowly maneuvered around the island in the middle of the kitchen. The ground underneath Patton starkly transitioned from the somewhat slick tiled floor of the kitchen to a soft carpet as Patton entered the living room. 

Patton wasn’t affected by the change in terrain, expertly weaving through the living room by muscle memory. He could probably do it in his sleep or blindfolded if he needed to.

Placing the cookies and hot chocolate on the coffee table, Patton set both of his crutches finally to the side, having no need for them while he was going to relax and recline on the couch. 

 The couch wrapped around him like a warm hug as he automatically relaxed into it. He let out a contented sight, automatically closing his eyes as he could finally relax instead of worry about the cookies or his feet. Patton pulled the coffee table close enough to grab his mug while being able to get out when he needed to get up. 

Patton grabbed the remote, turning on the TV. Patton scrolled through the channels, looking at various movies and shows until he turned to a channel that caught his eye. The program was a TV series he was getting into called  Steven Universe.  It was one of the episodes he had already watched, which he was grateful for as he had almost been spoiled a couple of times before, the episode was a welcome one for Patton. 

Though he had already watched it, he let the episode play out, placing the remote on the coffee table and replacing it with the mug of hot chocolate and the two cookies he’d nabbed. 

Patton’s eyes were glued to the screen, captivated almost instantly with the episode. He absently brought the cookie and hot chocolate to his mouth as he watched Steven and Connie battling a bout of snow. Patton chuckled softly at the timing of the episode, glancing outside as he did so.

That’s so funny, it’s snowing here too! Also… I knew this hot chocolate flavor would taste wonderful! It tastes just like candy canes and chocolate had a baby! Don’t want to drink this too fast, though. It’ll be more satisfying if I drink it to savor it, not just gulping it down.

Patton lowered his cup a little, slowing down the flow of hot chocolate. When he was done with the swig hot and heavenly cocoa bean liquid he was taking, he set the cup back down, leaning back into the soft cushions. 

The air of the room was so warm and the scent of cookies and hot chocolate that Patton found himself closing his eyes for longer and longer. It wasn’t until Patton’s arm slid off the arm of the couch that Patton jolted back, fully awake and aware. He grabbed for the mug of hot chocolate immediately, half of the liquid still sloshing around in there, having grown almost cold.

“I can’t have hot chocolate without the hot!” Patton mumbled, bringing the cup to his lips to try and wake himself up more. On the TV, Steven yelled out something, causing Patton to turn his attention back to the show. He peered over the rim of his cup to continue to watch the show when...

Thump.

Patton jumped at a small thud in the direction of the door. The veil of drowsiness draped over him almost immediately fled as Patton nearly tossed his hot chocolate all over himself. He managed to not spill it over himself, instead, he corrected the movement, expertly positioning his mug to catch every last drop of hot chocolate.

Patton didn’t celebrate the accomplishment though, chills traveling up his arms and his spine, making him shudder involuntarily. His mind immediately started to race, his mind conjuring up more and more absurd reasons why the thump occurred before a soft laugh escaped his lips.

It’s snowing, the thump was probably some snow falling off the roof, nothing to be concerned about. Breathe.

Patton didn’t follow the breathing exercise this time. His panic hadn’t mounted too much, so a simple and normal deep breath in and out dispelled the chill up his spine. However, it didn’t get rid of the small pit in Patton’s stomach that told him that there could be something wrong and that sound wasn’t just snow.

But Patton ignored it, moving onto his second cookie, the first one placed neatly in Patton’s stomach.

Thump. Thump.

Patton’s heart sank as two more thumps traveled through the living room for the front door of the house.

It’s not snow. Not snow. Not snow!

Patton’s fingers twitched around the cookie in his hand, placing it carefully on the coffee table. Making as little sound as possible, he slowly turned down the volume of the TV. The bite of cookie in Patton’s mouth now felt like a boulder, scraping down his throat when he swallowed. Patton had to swish down another mouthful of hot chocolate to get the harsh feeling to go away.

Patton’s thoughts went back to racing a mile a minute, analyzing everything he had heard so far and eventually all his thoughts came to the same basic conclusion.

He had to check out what the noise was.

Patton slowly extracted himself from the couch, setting his mug down and grabbed the nearest blunt object, just in case, as he passed the coffee table on his route towards the door: a decorative vase covered in cartoon flowers. The flowers in the vase had long since died and been thrown away, so Patton easily wielded it upside down, gripping the bumpy surface like a baseball bat. 

Patton approached the door very cautiously, trying to make as little sound with his socked feet as he could on the floor as the surface under Patton’s socks changed from the carpet back to the hard, flat surface of the hardwood floor. The change nearly sent Patton tumbling, the slick hardwood providing less traction than the kitchen tiles.

His crutches could wait for now; he didn’t  need them to walk, and they might slow him down in the tighter space of the doorway, so he left them propped up out of the way on the leg of the couch.

Another small shuffle came through the door. Patton gripped the vase harder, but nowhere near enough to crack it. Some part of Patton wanted desperately to run to his room, to hole himself up there and ignore the sound, maybe to call the police in case the sound was someone coming to attack him. 

But a louder part of Patton was insisting that Patton see what was making the sound. It could be something harmless, but it could also be something or someone who meant to hurt him.

Everything became suspended in time for a long moment. Patton was at the door, the only thing he needed to do now was open the door, but he paused. 

Should I open it? I should! But what if- No! I can’t back down, if it is someone who means me harm, I at least know to look out for something. Calm yourself Patton. In 4…..

Patton’s heart had begun to race, his breathing speeding up, but he wiggled his body a little, trying to get rid of the excess tension. He stilled only when he started the breathing exercise. Patton’s chest expanded languidly, his lungs filling with precious air he had been depriving himself of in his panic.

Hold 7...

Patton fought the urge to breathe out until the count was done, keeping his eye fixed on a point on the doorframe to not remind him of the possible danger waiting outside with a reckless glance.

Out for 8...

Patton’s shoulders relaxed. They dropped down almost to the position they were before, but there was an undercurrent of tension even then weaved into Patton’s slightly chubby frame. A stray strand of hair fell down into Patton’s face from his messy ponytail, and Patton tucked it behind his ear absently, not even registering it beyond tucking it away out of sight. 

Patton bounced on the balls of his feet, gazing through the small window above, the snow coming down just the same as at the kitchen window. He brought his hand up to the door knob, snatching it back as he second-guessed himself before slowly bringing his hand back to where it was.

The moment Patton’s left hand hit the cool metal, Patton shivered, hit with the fact that the next moments may count for his life or death.

Patton warred against himself for several moments longer before an impulse swept through him. His hand promptly gripped the knob. He twisted it sharply before swinging the door rapidly open. His left hand went to the vase, primed to strike before his assailant could....

But instead of anything Patton expected, Patton opened the door to find absolutely nothing there, no strange car in the driveway or hooded figure with a gun pointed at his chest. Rather, there was just the silent snow falling to the ground, the cold air blasting Patton in the face as the seal of warmth in the house was broken.

“Mm…”

Patton jumped at the sound of the human groan, nearly shattering the vase in his grip when his hand clenched the vase the tightest he could. Its proximity sent Patton’s heart pumping as he scrambled back from the sound as his gaze trailed down to...

Patton froze. And he didn’t freeze because of the cold temperature.

The reason was… much worse.

On his doorstep, half covered in a thin layer of snow that was slowly melting under the outside porch light, was a child. A child all alone, in the snow, with no coat or protection whatsoever, curled up on Patton’s doorstep.

Patton barely noticed when he dropped the vase in his hands, only hearing it shatter against the floor and the child’s huddled form jolt sluggishly at the sound. Patton’s hand clapped over his mouth, whether to stifle his cry or simply at the sheer sight, even Patton wasn’t sure of the reason he did it himself. Patton’s heart followed suit with the vase, dropping to Patton’s feet and shattering into a million tiny pieces at the image of the child's tiny form, left to the elements in the marginally below freezing weather.

There was only one coherent thought Patton had the sight of the poor child at his feet: 

Who would do this to a child?

#somewhere over the rainbow #sotr #patton sanders #child #k's writing #sanders sides #sander sides fic #hot chocolate #cookies #baking #patton is alone #the start of something I hope you'll find beautiful #eventual romantic dlampr #no remrom #chapter 1

[hesesols]

The Good Life

 “Stop seducing me in front of my daughter!”

Day 1 of IR month 2020

Prompt: Once Upon A Dream

Word count: 2.5K

x

"You're pathetic!"

Grimmjow grouses from his perch among the low-lying branches of the cherry blossom tree. The erratic movement causes a shower of pink petals to descend. Carried by the wind, the rainfall of petals flutters and trails along the faces of both father and daughter before succumbing to the pull of gravity, kissing the earth and becoming one with the world again- heralding the beginning of spring with their fall from grace.

The circle of life is full of stolen moments, enshrined in the poetry of flowers and their decay; each one unique, each one fleeting, tender and surreal- no two ever the same for man or time.

Violet eyes widen at the sight of them.

Clapping her hands excitedly, his youngest tugs at him, pointing out the bright colours to him, making funny little noises as she jabbers gibberish. Her enthusiasm is infectious but Ichigo is frowning as he dusts off the pesky things.

He should have never let Rukia talk him into planting them in the gardens, now every spring is just a personal reminder of how big brother is always watching. Byakuya has eyes everywhere, even at his own backyard. That has certainly proven to put a damper on the mood when he's trying to have a few moments of uninterrupted bliss with his wife.

"Hmph."

His non-committal grunt deepens Grimmjow's scowl. Feline grace marks his leap as he jumps off the tree and lands perfectly next to Ichigo.

"Don't just sit there on your fat ass and hmph, you lazy fuck! Get up and fight me! I swear you get lazier every fucking time I see you."

Ichigo snarls, hastily covering his daughter's ears as he glares.

"Oi! Language, asshole!"

Fatherhood mellowed him out pretty nicely but that doesn't mean he isn't a hot minute away from throwing hands with that blue-haired freak if it comes to that. Especially if his little girl's first word turned out to be a swear word because of someone's potty mouth.

"You do this every month," Ichigo rolls his eyes, shifting his hold on his daughter when she starts wriggling on his lap, "Give it up already, Grimmjow! I'm not going to fight you! Come back next month, maybe you'll get lucky."

"C'mon!"

Grimmjow swears that he's not fraternizing with the enemy here. Lines and loyalties are clearly drawn between Shinigamis and Arrancars. He simply laments the fall of a fellow warrior. How the mighty have fallen!

When and how exactly did the saviour of the three realms get reduced into this?

This... blob of passivity and stagnancy?

He eyes the baby- cherubic, rosy cheeks, bright eyes; the root of all evil, the devil dressed in a bunny onesie- with something akin to apprehension in his gaze and feels a shudder running down his spine; to think that a hero will willingly bend the knee and let himself grow weak for this insufferable… creature that does nothing but sleep, eat and poo all day.

It gurgles at him, makes an attempt to grab at him with her grubby hands and he flinches, hissing as he backs away instinctively.

Truly children and babies, especially babies, are the worst!

He briefly contemplates if he will get away with it if he snatches the creature away from her father's hands and runs for the hills the minute he did. That should teach the punk a lesson! It could work in theory, he muses- a Garganta with one hand, hell spawn in the other. Diabolical plan in the works, his lips curled into a smirk as he creeps forward. He'd like to think that he almost got away with it too if he hadn't made the rookie mistake of looking into Ichigo's eyes.

If looks could kill, Ichigo's glare would have been sharp enough to cut him down a million times over.

"Don't even think about it!"

A father's instinct to protect run deep and being parent to a pair of rambunctious pre-schoolers means that hardly anything surprises him anymore. Nothing- especially not a sneak attack aimed at his youngest- gets by him. His grip tightens as he cradles the tiny body against him. Grimmjow is a dead man if he takes another step forward.

Of course not everyone appreciates his efforts. Hisaki, for one- the literal baby of the family and already a full-fledged Kurosaki when it comes to getting things done her way- is not amused by the tight hold. She squirms, pouts and makes an angry face at her father while she makes persistent attempts to lunge at the other man.

"Urhhh-urhh…”

Baby talk is hardly the most eloquent of speeches but Ichigo tries. Her pinched face as she gestures wildly and wills him to let her loose is entirely too precious to be ignored. The doting father follows her line of vision and snorts when he notices her fixated stare at Grimmjow's colourful hair. Okay, so maybe Rukia was on to something when she said that Kurosakis are born with little to no sense to recognize danger and run from it.

He laughs, kissing Hisaki's cute button nose.

Maybe when she's older. Right now, he doesn't even trust Renji with her and that man's got years of experience in dealing with children compared to the almost-feral Arrancar in front of him.

Gently, he bunny kisses her chubby cheeks, blowing raspberries against them until her attention shifts and he becomes the focus of those big violet eyes again. She giggles- delightful little sounds that melts his heart down and has him smitten all over again since the day he first held her.

Bloodlines don't lie and she is perfect- a blend of Rukia and him sieved and condensed into this little bundle of joy. Don't get him wrong, he loves all his children equally but fathers are allowed certain liberties in playing favourites, especially when it comes to their baby daughters.

He runs a hand through her hair- soft, orange tufts that smell like baby shampoo dipped in an assortment of syrupy goodness, honeyed, sweet; heaven on earth- but that face, that pointy little chin and those unworldly eyes that gleam in the dying day; that's all Rukia.

His baby girl is going to be a heartbreaker someday, just like her mother and Ichigo is both a little excited and worried at the prospect. Someday, he thinks; the line of boys queuing up for her love and affection is going to be long enough to go round Seireitei and he needs to be prepared- will have to keep his blade sharp and ready if only for better crowd control.

As if to ease his troubled thoughts, his daughter yawns and snuggles her tired little head against him. Well- he adjusts his hold, wrapping both hands around her. He is getting ahead of himself there. For now, this is already enough excitement for the one-year-old and clearly past her naptime.

He eyes his long-time rival- deeply scowling with no signs of leaving any time soon.

"You're never going to leave until I say yes, aren't you?"

"Damn straight!"

"Fine! Just let me put her to bed first."

He slips in through the back door, wanders inside the house with his bare feet.

The pictures on the wall, silly little knick-knacks from the Living World decorating the shelves- the story of a life he built together with Rukia. A mishmash of new and old; the past and present- still them but better, fuller, happier with each other- of them on their honeymoon, of them at the Ishida's wedding, of them with Chad as he opened his veterinary clinic, the happy little family at the birth of each child, of his eldest's hatsu-zekku, and the most recent picture taken with their extended family- Shibas, Kurosakis, Kuchikis brought together to celebrate Hisaki's first hinamasturi.

Pockets of happiness preserved in stillness. Each one infinitely more precious than ever; chronicles of their evolving journey through life together. The sheer joy, the softness in their eyes; he can't help but mirror and smile back.

"Let me guess? He won't leave until you fight him?"

He looks up from the smiling faces frozen in time to see his reason for being. Sunshine filters through the open window from the kitchen and his breath catches. He sees her gilded and golden, crowned by the halo of the setting sun.

He heaves an exaggerated sigh as he presses his sleeping daughter to her.

"I can't catch a break! I'm supposed to be on paternity leave."

Paternity leave is supposed to be time spent with family, with his wife, especially his wife. Instead he spends it fending off old frenemies, being reminded of his brother-in-law's presence every five minutes while Rukia tackles her paperwork indoors. She only returned to active duty a few weeks ago and it has been a constant nightmare since then to catch up on the backlog of paperwork.

According to the newly minted Captain and mother of three, he's a distraction to her work progress, and can't be trusted not to mislay official documents in a bid to lure her to back to bed for the pursuit of sleep and other carnal activities, so to the gardens it is.

Ichigo doesn't bother denying it. He's simply saying that Captain Kurosaki-Kuchiki needs to do a better job of saying no, of actually pushing him away rather than deepening the kiss or groping at his ass every time he comes on to her.

It does, as the presence of three growing children attests, take two to tango.

Rukia rolls her eyes, "Most paternity leaves don't last a full year."

Ichigo shrugs unapologetically.

"Anyone who's got a problem with that can take it up with the Soutaichou himself. Kyoraku signed the papers- official seal and everything. I'm on paternity leave until further notice. Even Byakuya agrees."

It was nothing less than a miracle. He and Byakuya never agree on anything.

Rukia snorts, pokes at his sides as she teases, "Well, a little sparring might be good for you. You're starting to look a little soft and round around the edges there."

"Oh I'll show you 'soft'!"

With a playful growl, he pounces- grabbing her by the waist as he nuzzles against her soft hair, breathing her in- desperate and reverent, until the world melts away and all that's left is Rukia, sunshine, warmth and home. A hand rises to touch her face, his thumb tracing the fullness of her lips. There's the woman he fell in love with all those years ago. Proud, spirited; still breathtakingly beautiful but now a fuller figure to hold onto at night, a few more laugh lines dotting her familiar face, and maybe- just maybe, a little softer in the exasperated looks she shoots him whenever he annoys her; but still a fighter in every sense of the word.

She fights for him, for them and their little family, and he is so hopelessly in love with her- the undisputed queen of his heart.

"I'll be back by dinner."

"Come back before then."

Rukia pulls him down for a kiss. It is needy, sensual; a familiar ache that tiptoes a fine line between her wants and his needs. Passion flares and there is fire in her touch as she runs her fingers up and down the length of his bare arm- playful, teasing. There's a teenager lying somewhere in him still- eternally seventeen and reeving to go once she gives the signal.

He remembers long hot summer nights, naked bodies coiling in the dark; violet hazes that streak and colour his world when he gives in. Rukia's touch is magnetic and he is drawn irresistibly to the pull.

"The boys can stay a little longer with Nii-sama and Kukaaku-san today and Hisa sleeps like the dead once she's out," she whispers dark and tempting. Teeth nipping at his lips for good measure as she pulls away. He's all putty and labile in her hands and she knows it.

"We can have the whole house to ourselves."

He almost whimpers. The things she does to him-

He groans, forcing himself to look away from her sultry bedroom eyes. It's been too long.

"Stop seducing me in front of my daughter!"

Rukia laughs, tenderly brushing the stray wispy hair away from Hisaki's face. "You mean our daughter."

Swaddled in her mother's arm, his youngest looks even tinier than usual; her face small enough to fit into one of his palm and a little drool escapes the corner of her mouth as she fusses, tiny little digits flexing then bunching at her mother. His lips curve, wondering what she's dreaming about and if she can comprehend just how happy she makes him just by existing.

They were in his arms before he even knew it. His heart so full that it seems to burst at the seams with the love he has for his little family, smiling so wide that his cheeks hurt.

There is nothing that he wouldn't do for her, for them.

"I'll be back."

Fingers brush at his cheek. Rukia's eyes are soft and smiling as she watches him leave.

Knowing what he knows now, Ichigo will be the first to admit that there's still a whole lot out there that he doesn't know but this much is true: life is a mystery and anything can happen in the blink of an eye, so when good things happen you don't question it.

You don't look a gift horse in the mouth, or scorn at your good fortunes like a little shit and ask why. No, you count your blessings, grab hold of them and run- praying in vain that you'll somehow outrun time itself and the fates never catch a glimpse of your happiness long enough to be envious of it.

Somehow, somewhere; he was at the right place, asked the right questions at the right time and Rukia said yes to all the important ones.

Life begins anew and he hasn't looked back since.

All is well.

Tags not showing up properly. Please consider heading over to FF or ao3 for full version and author’s note. Read, review, comment, reblog etc to send love my way~~~

#ichiruki #ichirukimonth2020 #irmonth2020 #mine #fanfic #bleach #future fic #warning: FLUFF #d1: once upon a dream #once upon a dream

[vantaestummy]

Quick sick Yoongi drabble

A/N: this cane to me while i was sleeping. sweet and short and of course, love my taegi. for imagery, i imagine yoongi to look like he does in the selfie that jimin took after they played just dance! (you know exactly what i’m talking about 😉)

TW/// emeto

The tour bus swayed on the uneven road, the nauseating sensation akin to that of being on a boat. Taehyung was such a good boyfriend. When was he not.

He places a cool towel around Yoongi’s shoulders, the rapper hunching over the girnourmous square-shaped bucket that was stuffed under the seats. It was actually used to pack shoes but, the boys had forgotten that it was there. This is a more important occasion, Taehyung thinks.

Yoongi’s been leaning over it for the past thirty minutes, his legs crossed with the bucket pulled into his lap. His head bobs along with the movement of the bus, the boy hissing every time they hit a sharp turn or bump. Namjoon and Seokjin are two rows away, worrying themselves to the point of sickeness. Jimin and Jungkook are with Hoseok, advising that he put in his headphone because things are probably going to get a bit messy. Jungkook thinks it best for Jimin to do the same. He knows his two boyfriends very well. At least Hoseok will own up to his squeamishness but Jimin is far too prideful to admit that he’s just as bad. Maybe even worse.

“Your hairs getting so long, baby. Let me pull it back, okay?” Taehyung mumbles, tying at Yoongi’s honey blonde fringe with a shooky hair tie, combing through his dark roots with love and care. Yoongi hasn’t said a single word since he started looking utterly nauseous. His lips are pouted as he sniffles, his mouth parting every so often, false alarms. It’s when Taehyung is done with his hair that things take a turn for the worst.

Yoongi’s shoulder roll as he starts to dry cough into the bucket, each time the sound growing more and more wet. Saliva pools under Yoongi’s tongue, gravity doing its thing as it starts to dangle from his bottom lip. He coughs a few more times, all painful and wheezing. Taehyung is right beside him, running circles into his back and scratching up and down the length of his curved spine.

“Should we stop? I can ask Sejin to let us stop for a break.” Seokjin asks, worry coloring his tone. His eyes are wide, as well as even a bit wet. Namjoon entwines their hand so that he can give the older boy’s wrist a soft kiss.

Taehyung sighs with a shake of his head. “We’re twenty minutes away from the venue. It’s better that we get there so hyung can get off of this bus for good.”

They had taken Yoongi’s medicine before the trip, stocking just enough for the duration of the drive, but so many of the roads had been blocked off due to construction, lengthening the journey without warning. They weren’t prepared for this, but Taehyung was going to do everything he could to make sure Yoongi was as comfortable as possible.

“Baby, breathe. We’re almost there.”

Yoongi sniffles, spitting into the bucket as he intakes a deep breath. His knuckles burn red as he grips the sides of the bucket with pure vigor. Things seem okay until, they’re not.

Yoongi gags fruitlessly, his little toungue popping out of his mouth as he leans foward. He continues to gag, more ropes of spit dripping into the bucket. Thank goodness Jungkook has convinced both Jimin and Hoseok to put in their headphones. It has taken them some time to realize that, just because they are protecting their own wellbeing, doesn’t mean they love or care for Yoongi any less. They are in fact, doing everyone a favor. One puking member of BTS is better than three.

“That’s it baby. It’ll be over soon. I’m right here. Jungkook-ah, please get me a bottle of water.”

“Bet.” Jungkook stands from his chair before reaching up to the overhead railing, grabbing a bottle from the pack of waters they had stocked. He hands it over to Taehyung, his gaze empathetic and sorrowful when he takes note of how miserable his hyung looks. He’s been in his boat one too many times before. It’s one of the worst feelings in the world.

Yoongi’s upper half rocks back and forth, each jolt of his body caused by the coughing/gagging sounds that his throat emits. He shakes his head as he spits into the bucket, his nose tickled by all the mucus. His face scrunches as he sneezes and as fucking cute as that is, now is not the time, Taehyung has to remind himself.

Yoongi’s silence has been troubling Taehyung ever since he grew so quiet, but that worry is long gone when he starts to heave.

Yoongi gags, the sound more like a retch as a splash of kimchi falls from his mouth and plops into the bucket. His head hangs low as he retches again, this time, a stream of orangish vomit pouring into the bucket, barely giving Yoongi a chance to breathe before his stomach is once again in his throat. A thick stream of bile is drained from his body like a faucet, filling the bucket halfway with a sickening sound, the puke piling up and up until it looks like a gallon full. Taehyung winces as he rubs Yoongi’s back, to the point of tears. He wishes there was more that he could do but really, there isn’t much at all.

Yoongi rocks, gargling out two more larger rounds of his lunch. The amount of bile he heaves after each bout of vomit becomes less and less until there isn’t much more left in his stomach. At the end, he is left spitting and sneezing, his face scrunching up in the most adorable way every time. Taehyung really wants to coo but the bus kind of smells like vomit and he thinks it best that Yoongi get some fresh air, now that they’re finally at the venue.

The bus pulls up to the back entrance with one loud screech. Hoseok and Jimin are hauled off by Jungkook, the smell starting to get to them. Namjoon and Seokjin make their way to the back, watching helplessly as Taehyung opens the bottle of water, handing it to Yoongi so that he can rinse his mouth out.

“Is there anything we can do?” Seokjin asks, his voice cracking. Namjoon holds out his hands for the bucket, his sweater paws enough to protect himself from the rims splattered with undigested food bits.

“Let me take this. We have mic check in a few hours. The best we can do is let Yoongi-hyung rest, yeah Jin-hyung?”

Seokjin nods, at a loss. The two leave Taehyung and Yoongi to fend for themselves, the older boy dragging his hands down his face, frustrated and still a little queasy.

“Please don’t look at me. I’m so embarrassed and I just want to be alone.” He mumbles, his chin and his cheeks and even his nose are tinted the prettiest shades of pink, even if the color comes from his illness.

Taehyung shakes his head before tucking a strand of Yoongi’s growing hair behind his ear.

“I am not going to leave you like this. You’re sick and you’re crying and you have nothing to be ashamed of. I bet you money that each and every one of us has puked on this bus more than twice. Remember last month? When Jungkook ate six cups of spicy ramen and spewed all over the seats? We couldn’t get the smell out of the leather for weeks. And that was because of a choice he made. This wasn’t your fault baby.”

Yoongi giggles tearfully, rubbing at his eyes with his oversized sleeves. His face is what gives him away, the downward curve of his pouted lips, the sadness swimming in his eyes. He’s being way too hard on himself for Taehyung’s liking, and the younger boy can’t handle it. He loves his boyfriend way too much to just allow him to hate himself, for something that he didn’t do on purpose.

“‘M not crying...” Yoongi weeps. Taehyung chuckles sadly before scooting closer.

Taehyung moves Yoongi’s hands way from his face gently, caressing his reddened knuckles and searching for his eyes. Yoongi avoids his adoring gaze, tear streaks plastered to his chubby cheeks.

“Baby please look at me. I love you and I want you to look at me when I say this.”

Yoongi sniffles; biting at his lip as to clamp in a whimper. He looks up, Taehyung’s boxy smile there to greet him when he does. Yoongi giggles, his gums showing.

“This is not your fault. You have no reason to be embarrassed. If anything, all of us were so scared. We just want to make sure you’re alright. Now, we have about three hours before mic check and all I want is to cuddle you while you wear one of my big sweatshirts, is that okay? Can we do that please?”

Yoongi giggles, covering his lips with his sweater paws before keeling over and slumping into Taehyung’s lap. Taehyung pets at his hair lovingly, happy to see that Yoongi’s natural flush has returned.

“I love you, Tae-ah.”

“I love you more hyung. Do you feel better? Can you drink some water for me?”

Yoongi nods. “But only if you let me keep on your sweatshirt for the mic check.”

Taehyung thinks that can be arranged.

“Deal.” He says, before the two of them start to laugh for a very long time.

A/N: did i say short? 😬

#bts sickfic #sick bts #emeto #sickfic #sick #my fic #tw vomit #sick!yoongi #caretaker!taehyung #sick!taegi #tw throwing up #tw puke #tw vomiting

[k347]

Evanstan ficlet

Prompt – "Your wish is my command"

Pairing: Chris Evans x Sebastian Stan

Word Count : 2.5 k

Warning: None. Maybe a bit of fluff

Summary: He was excited for the date. Very much so. But unexpected arrival of a girl at Chris' house changed their plans a little bit.

--------------------------

With his shoes shining extra bright, having fixed his tie & handkerchief in the coat pocket for probably the hundredth time, Sebastian comes out of the black Audi he parked in the corner spot. It's far enough from the mahogany door for hiding, but also close enough so that he can keep an eye on the place. There's still no movement though, so maybe he is still getting ready.

It’s his third date with Chris and Seb is bubbling with excitement and nerves. Yes, the previous two have gone great and he loved walking through the parks and exploring bookstores with the guy. But it still felt like two friends hanging out together rather than two potential boyfriends. So seb decided to take matters in his own hand and give tonight a more romantic cut. This is probably the first actual, proper ‘date’ they are going to have. They'll talk about each other all night and flirt from across the table, have eachother's complete an undivided attention. Reservation made at one of the finest and fanciest hotels in the city, where he plans to wine and dine Chris Evans and charm the fuck out of him. 

He really needs tonight to go just right. Exactly the way it is planned. Wants to make a good impression. Not that Chris doesn’t know him already. But Sebastian wants to come off as the good Boyfriend material instead of being the shy kid in a grown man's body who is still secretive and giggly around his crushes like he's some teenager. He was stuck in the friendzone spot for so long, it's sometimes still hard to believe he has escaped it. They have been working at the same firm for years now. But it was just last week when Seb gathered the courage to ask out the man of his dreams on a date. But more important (and still very shocking) is the fact that Chris indulged him and reciprocated the feelings instead of laughing them off. They’ve decided to take it slow and just see where it goes at the moment. ( Sebastian might have already dreamed of their wedding, pets and future babies though. He has been doing that for a couple of years. Not in a creepy way. He is just the hopeless romantic, thinks of himself as a rom-com lead sort of a person) But tonight he plans to be the best of the best. Create a whole James Bond vibe and make all that extra effort it takes to win over someone as special as Chris. He is dressed in his finest Italian suit and had his hair quaffed perfectly, wearing the best cologne and is present on the doorstep at sharp seven thirty, like he said he would be. Punctual. A good start to being a good date. He rings the doorbell and pulls out his most charming smile, for Chris. Only when the door opens, instead of the familiar handsome bearded face and stormy blue eyes, the visual of an empty drawing room greets him. He turns his head to both sides. Nope. No one. What kind of sorcery is this? Who opened the door, if he can’t see any human in front of him right now?

"Psst. Tsk tsk. Here."

A small, sweet voice reaches his ears. He looks down and finds the source behind that. It’s a little girl. Probably 4 or 5 years old. She has blonde hair and chubby cheeks, barely reaching up to his waist even though she is standing on a platform higher above him. Has a curious look on her face and is analyzing him from head to toe. He instantly smiles after looking at her. Tiny angel dressed in a onesie that has cartoons scribbled all over it. Two seconds in and she is already melting his heart. Damn you baby fever.

“And who might you be?”,He asks leaning down to reach closer to her height.

“I am Stella. Don't tell me who you are. I already know. You're the date guy. Where are your flowers?”, the little lady asks him, tone too judgemental for a five-year-old but adorable nonetheless.

“My flowers?”, He is a bit confused right now.

“Yeah. Flowers. When you go on a date, you are supposed to bring them”, she tells him impatiently and gives a disapproving look, like she’s the adult and he is the kid in this scenario.

“Yeah, Sebastian. Don’t you know simple date manners? Where are your flowers?”, Seb finally hears the voice his ears had been craving for. Chris just came to the door too. Wearing a crisp white button up and dress pants. Tie undone and hair a little messed up, indicating he had been running his hands through them frequently. The kind of thing people do when they are nervous. Chris doesn't show any other signs of distress though, has a playful tone and glint in his eyes, clearly stating that he’ going along with the joke and self imposing in the ongoing conversation.

“Sorry. The vendor was a mean guy. Didn’t give me any. And how many dates have you been on to know all this stuff?”, Seb asks the girl after shooting  Chris a full smile.

“Five”, Stella replies promptly.

“Five? Wow, sounds serious. Who’s the lucky guy?”, Sebastian can’t help but talk more to the little munchkin. She sems fearless and very confident. Unafraid of talking to strangers and making conversations, a quality Seb wishes he had in himself.

“His name is Ethan and he’s boy. Not a guy. But he does remember  to bring me flowers every time”, She tells him with her chin held high.

“Well, maybe we can have a double date next time”, he replies while giggling at the cuteness and she just shrugs like ‘it’s no big deal’.

“Stel, why don’t you go inside and keep and eye on dodger while I talk to Mr. Stan over here”, Chris pats her shoulders and Stella just nods and runs off back in the house.

“Mr. Stan? Really? I love it when you are formal Evans, but I’d prefer to be called Sebastian for the rest of the night. We are not in the office now, remember?”, he asks sheepishly.

“You gotta teach the kids good manners, right? Can’t have them all turning up as uncultured swans like you”, Chris was always that guy in the room who makes sweet jokes and tries to put every one a ease. Another reason why Sebastian loved the guy. Handsome, kind, compassionate, and witty. He truly is the whole package.

“Between the two of us right now, who is dressed more properly and has his tie done in a Windsor knot?Stop making excuses. She clearly has more sass than both of us combined. So if I were you, I’d stop worrying about teaching little grandma manners and start thinking about the wrinkles on that shirt”, Sebastian was never the one to shy away from fun banter either.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. That’s all you wanna say though? No further questions?”

“Oh, I was gonna ask if you forgot to tell me something but you clearly don’t let your guests speak without badgering them about having manners”.

Chris gives him an apologetic sort of smile and says, “I am so sorry Seb, I did try to call you but when you didn’t pick up I figured you were probably driving and on your way here anyway, so...”

“A good answer, but not one for the question I was gonna ask”

“Oh, you mean you were gonna ask me about our daughter?’, Sebastian gives him a dry chuckle. “See that’s funny because you and I never slept together”, Chris explains further, thinking he’s being hilarious right now and Seb has to prick that bubble.

“I don’t find it funny by the least, Chris. And by ‘it’, I mean the fact that we never slept together. Also please tell me you know that even if we did, it is biologically impossible for us to have a kid together”, Seb gives him an incredulous look and that makes Chris laugh out louder than before.

“Oh, pardon me. I am an investment banker, life sciences were never really my strongest subjects”, he apologizes, with a hand on his heart.

“It’s actually more of a common sense thing and honestly you are right now making me reconsider the decision of asking you out for this date.”

“That’s probably a good thing, because we are gonna have to reschedule the date anyway. Stella is my niece, Seb. My sister just dropped her off, couldn’t find a baby sitter at the last moment. So here I am. Stuck in between being the best brother and the most favored uncle at the moment. Ditching a hot guy and a fancy date to take care of a sassy 5 year old. Good Times”, Chris lets out a self depreciating laugh, still looks really apologetic and genuinely sorry which makes Seb’s heart sink even deeper than it already has after hearing the date he was so excited about is getting a rain check. He musters up a smile though.

“It is okay, Chris. Really. I understand”, he tries very hard to sound normal and not let any disappointment he is feeling pour into his voice.

“It’s not though. We decided this together and now I am just bailing on you at the last moment. Cancelling plans on such a short notice. Even though I know how much you planned for tonight and the reservation will probably get wasted. I’ll pay for it if yo-“,Chris starts with another round of apologies and Sebastian already knows the guy wouldn’t stop rambling unless he’s cut off.

“Chris. Chris, stop. It’s no big deal. The Plaza is way too overrated anyway. I guess we can have more fun by ordering a pizza and watching care-bears while waiting for it”, Sebastian suggests. Still a little hopeful that he’ll get to spend the evening with Chris anyway. Doesn’t matter if it’s at a fancy hotel or on a couch at his home. All he wants is to be close to this man.

“You..you wanna come in and spend time with us?”, Chris’ eyes are wide with surprise. He  was clearly not expecting the situation to take this turn. Sebastian instantly feels like an asshole for trying to decide everything on his own.

“I didn’t mean to sound so presumptious, but yeah...I’d like to do that. If you’ll have me?”, he asks for permissson and is half expecting for the door to slam in his face.

“Of course we’ll have you, Seb. It’s always pleasure. Come on in”, Chris moves back, inviting him inside the beautiful place and Sebastian happily accpets the offer.

“Good for you. Because if you had just refused, I was totally planning on setting a camp right in front of your door step to make you feel horribly guilty”, he says while taking off the coat and hanging it up on the rack. He is delighted to hear the sound of Chris’s laugh at his recycled, not-so-funny jab. The date might not have gone where he wanted it to, but it’s definitely going somewhere. And for now, that's good enough.

“Oh and Seb, Care bears is so 1985. Kids these days don’t really watch that y’know?”

“Well I thought CNBC and the stock market channels would be a bit much for her”

“Don’t worry. She knows exactly what she wants. A Disney fan.”

“So I see, she takes after her uncle. Please tell me it’s not Frozen though."

“No, tonight's reserved for Tangled.”

"Hmmm. A bit better. I can deal with that. She has a good choice."

“Takes after her uncle in that regard as well”, Chris winks at him before turning to go into the kitchen and Sebastian’s heart is doing backflips at that simple action.

***

They spend the rest of their night watching and singing along with the animated characters. Building pillow forts, telling Dodger to fetch the colourful balls and mimicking sesame street voices. It’s the best date Sebastian has ever had, even if it was hijacked by a kindergartener and a furball. At the dinner table, Stella tells Chris she wants to sit next to ‘Bastian’ and asks him to cut her pizza into little bites for her. Seb tries so hard to hide the tears that well up in his eyes, though he is sure, Chris caught a glimpse of them. Because right after feeling too emotional, he had gotten a squeeze at his thigh and Chris interwined  their fingers together, skin warm and cheeks flushed red. This looks and feels so much like the future Sebastian had been planning for them. He can’t tell if he manifested that by imagining it hard enough or is fate just being extra nice and kind to him since last week. Either way, he hopes this doesn’t change.

***   

Finally it’s after 10:30 and Chris reminds Stella it’s way past her bedtime, she shouldn't take advantage of him just because he caves in everytime she pouts. He takes her to the upstairs bedroom while Sebastian stays in the kitchen to do the dishes, no matter how much Chris asks him not to do that.

“Please don’t. You’ll only make me feel like a shitty host”

“Please let me, if I don’t, I’ll be the one feeling like a shitty guest”.

Just when he’s done drying off the last plate, Seb hears footsteps coming down from the stairs. He walks out of the kitchen and stands at the very end of it, waiting for Chris to come down.

“She asleep yet?”, he asks when they’re just two steps away from each other.

“Actually no. Said she wants you to go up there and kiss her goodnight too”, Chris laughs but answers with a certain seriousness that tells Seb this is not entirely a joke. Stella actually did ask for him. That realisation warms his heart even more.

“Alright, I can do that”, he starts climbing up the stairs and crosses Chris. Is stopped by a large hand softly reaching out to hold onto his elbow. ‘”You know, you don’t have to, right? She’ll go to sleep on her own in a few minutes anyway. Don’t spoil her too much”, Chris wants to make sure Seb isn’t feeling obligated to do any of this just because of him.

“I know I don’t have to. I want to though. And cuties like you Evans people deserve a little more spoiling every now and then. Let me take care of that”, he smiles and frees his arm from Chris’s grasp. Walks a few stairs further but is stopped in his track again. This time, by Chris’ deep husky voice.

“Hey, Seb?”

“Yeah?”

“After you are done with putting the little madam to sleep, I want you to come downstairs and kiss me good night too. I’ll be waiting in my own room”, Chris is flustered, pale skin turned the loveliest shade of pink at the make but his voice still holds a demanding and authorative tone that manages to make Sebastian weak in the knees.

“Sure”, he says with his own voice trembling and can’t begin to believe his lucky stars.

'Whatever you say. Your wish is my command, Christopher', Sebastian thinks.

 Actually, he might’ve just said it out loud judging by the way Chris snorts then blushes a shade darker and smiles some more standing on the other end of that staircase.

***

#evanstan #rpf #prompts #based on an episode in one of my favourite shows #💙

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Good Business: Part 13

Fandom: Marvel (Mob AU)

Pairing: Chubby!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes is a ruthless mobster. He’s also referred to as Big Buck due to his towering strong frame as well as his round stomach. You’re the owner of a small diner, a place that Big Buck decides to visit. Based off this drabble.

Warning: smut

After breakfast, you and Bucky found yourselves cuddling on the couch watching television. You sat in between Bucky’s legs, his chin resting on your shoulder, one of your large fluffy blankets draped over the both of you. 

While you were solely focus on the movie on the screen, Bucky couldn’t help but pay attention to how your ass rubbed against his crotch every time you wiggled in your spot. He tried to focus on not letting it get to him, but you just kept moving. He felt himself getting hard when you scoot back and your hands slid up his thick thighs. 

“Sweet cheeks,” his tone was husky and deep. 

“Hm?” your tone was innocent...too innocent. 

“You bein’ bad for me, sweet girl?” he kisses your neck and hears your breath hitch, making him smirk. 

“I’m doing no such thing,” you bite your lip to prevent you from smirking. 

You yelped when Bucky nipped at your neck, “Don’t lie to me, babygirl, or I’ll lay you across my lap and spank you.” he then snickered, “Unless that’s exactly what you want.”

You kicked off the blanket, the fabric falling to the floor, as you stood up to turn around and set yourself on Bucky’s lap. Your hands rested on his shoulders as you stared into his eyes, “Is that how you treat bad girls, Big Buck? You spank them until they’re red, raw, and crying for you?”

Bucky hums in delight as you slowly gyrate your hips down on his hardened length, “And then some,” his own hands slide up your thighs and towards your ass where he grips and pushes you down, “I love when women cry for me,” his lips are now hovering yours and you feel like your skin is on fire. His touch, the proximity of him. You feel like you’re drowning, but you don’t want to come up for air. 

“B-Bucky,” you whimper out, “I want you. Please.” you whisper. 

A huge grin breaks out on Bucky’s face, “I do love the sound of you begging. Lemme hear a lil’ bit more, sweet cheeks.”

“I want you to touch me, kiss me, fuck me. Anything, Bucky. I’m yours.”

His own breath hitches and his hands immediately move from your ass to cup your face, “Yeah, sweet cheeks. You are mine. And I’m yours.” lips sealed in a heated, passionate kiss, one you’ve never felt before from him. You feel it. His true feelings he has for you and you can only hope that you kissing him back tells him the same. 

“Bedroom. Now,” you pant as you break away from the kiss. 

Both of you scramble to your feet and rush to your room where you push Bucky onto his back and you begin to push down his boxers. When you get a look at his hard cock, you feel your mouth water. 

Your hand extends out to reach for it, but Bucky stops you, “Ladies first,” and it’s his turn to push down your sleep shorts and underwear, tossing them to the other side of the room. 

He rolls over so that you’re now on your back and Bucky is hovering over you. With your help, he removes your shirt and bra, kissing down your neck to your chest, “You’re so fucking beautiful, sweet cheeks. So delectable. Bet you taste just as good as those pies you make.” he crawls down so that he’s resting on his stomach in-between your legs. He hooks them over his shoulder and his fingers graze along your cunt. 

“So pretty for me, baby. Getting so fucking wet for me,” he murmurs as his finger scoops up some of your slick and proceeds to lick it off his finger. With a hum, he says, “I was wrong. You taste even better than those pies you make. Hell, maybe we can make a cream pie of our own, eh?” he wiggles his eyes as you and you can’t help but laugh. Which prompts Bucky to laugh. 

He crawls back up and pecks your lips, “I adore you, Y/N L/N.”

You stare up at him, your eyes bearing into his, and you start to feel overwhelmed but the care and adoration you feel from him, “I adore you too, Bucky Barnes.”

With another kiss, Bucky slides back down to his previous position. His tongue gives a quick swipe up your slit and then circles around your clit. 

You throw your head back in pleasure, “Goddamn! Guess smooth talking isn’t the only thing that tongue us good at.” you look down at him and chuckled when he throws you a wink, stilling going to town on your pussy. 

He continues to just use his tongue to bring you to bliss, but it isn’t enough. You begin to wiggle more, whining for more. 

He pulls back, lips red and wet with your juices, “My sweet girl wants more, huh? Greedy lil’ thing, aren’t ya? But whatever my girl wants, she gets.” his mouth is back on your core, but now is paired with his fingers that are slowly inserting inside of you. 

“Fuck yes!” You cry out and pride swells inside Bucky, he fucking loves that he’s the reason why you’re experiencing absolute pleasure. It’s all him. 

“Bucky, fuck! Just like that. Shit! I’m close, Bucky!” you grip the sheets on your bed tight as Bucky fingers you harder and licks at you faster until your back arches and you gasp, and a wave of pleasure suddenly washes over you. 

Bucky pulls his mouth away, encouraging you, “Atta girl. That’s my girl. Ride through it, sweet cheeks. Feels fucking good, huh?”

When your body falls limp onto the bed, he pulls his fingers out of you and licks them clean. He then makes his way up to you, hovering over your limp and sweaty form, “You alright, Y/N?” 

You slowly nod, “Yeah. Fuck yeah. Goddamn, I never experienced shit like that before.”

Your honesty makes Bucky snort, “Probably ‘cause your past partners were shit in bed.”

You shrug, “Yeah, Probably.” 

Bucky leans down and kisses your nose, “You wanna keep goin’ or...?”

“Gimme like five minutes, buddy. A girl’s gotta catch her breath!”

__________________

After you caught your breath, you wanted to return the favor to Bucky but he stopped you. He wanted his first orgasm to be when he was inside you, cue you making a ‘cream pie’ comment again, which made the both of you burst into a fit of giggles. 

You two proceeded to have sex for the very first time and it was something you didn’t expect. 

You expected Big Buck to be hard and rough and dominating in bed, but he was anything but. He was soft, caring, and gentle. He always made sure you were okay and if you felt good. It meant so much to you that he wanted to ensure you were enjoying yourself. 

And when you and Bucky came together, he made sure you looked him in the eyes and you felt it. You felt him, you felt the connection you two had, and you see it. You see the adoration in his eyes for you and you nearly cry right then and there. 

When you rest your head on his shoulder after your first round together, you whisper softly, “Please be gentle with my heart, Bucky.”

His arms tightened around you and he held you close, “I got you, sweet cheeks. I got you.”

___________________

Bucky groans when he hears his phone ringing. He ignores it, snuggling you tighter and kissing your bare shoulder. Once the ringing stops, he lets out a content sigh. 

Then his phone rings again. 

“Answer it, Buck,” you mumble sleepily.

“Don’t wanna,” he mumbles back, “It’ll stop eventually.”

It doesn’t. 

By the third time, he finally rolls over and grabs his phone, answering it, “WHAT?!”

“Jesus Christ, Buck! Why didn’t you answer the first time?!” Steve yells back.

“I was sleeping, you moron! Now what is it?”

“One of the clubs’ been shot up, Buck. Sam was the only one left alive.”

Bucky sits up, “What? Ar-Are the girls-”

“None. Sam was the only one who survived.”

“Shit!”

“He said it was Rumlow, Buck.”

Bucky rubbed a hand over his face and cupped his bearded chin, “Mother fucking-okay. I’ll get dressed and meet you at the factory, okay?”

“Got it,” Steve replied and ended the call. 

Bucky tossed his phone onto the bed and clenched his fists tight. So much for spending the entire day in bed. 

He rolled back over to you, lightly shaking you, “Sweet cheeks, I gotta go.”

“Nooooo,” you whine, rolling over to face him, “Don’t go, baby.”

“I’m sorry. Something important came up and I gotta deal with it. I’ll call you or come back when I can, okay?”

Your eyes flutter open and you give him a pout, “Steve can’t handle it without you?”

He sighs and shakes his head, his fingers grazing along your cheek, “’Fraid not.” he leans down and softly kisses your lips, “I’ll see you soon, alright, sweet cheeks?”

“Okay,” you mumble somberly. You sit up and watch Bucky quickly dress. You wrap a blanket around your naked body and walk him to your door. 

With another fleeting kiss, he promises to call you and then he’s off. Bucky now gone and Big Buck now out to handle business. 

Good Business Taglist (CLOSED): @cametobuyplums @sergeantrosabellaswan @asadmarveltrashbag​ @youcanhaveyourspacecowboy​ @reniescarlett​ @j-the-smol-otter @buckysknifecollection @lowkeysebby @rinthehufflepuff @134340-cm @snoot-snoot-toot @seabassali1328 @bluebellhairpin @emzy106 @viarogers @feelmyroarrrr @vxidnik @jasura @jade-cheshire3303 @yknott81 @baliebay19 @jessieray98 @fandommemporiumm @iluvsumbucky @bucksandroses @lecoindenox @ylva-stark @booktease21 @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @cheyenne222222 @momobaby227

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #chubby!bucky #mob au #mob boss au #mobster au #marvel #au #marvel au #look at that smug ass look

[winterromanov]

we will grow taller together - bucky x reader

PART FOUR - YOU CAN’T DO NOTHING ON THANKSGIVING

parts: masterlist

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

extract: “Bullshit. Sorry. Not having it.” You focus, expression serious, so he knows you mean it. “James, you work a full time job to provide for her as her only parent. It’s going to take time for things to fall into place, and blaming yourself isn’t going to help anyone. You do what you have to do—the only thing you can do. Until you met me.”

genre: nanny x single father!au

taglist: @blindedbyyourgrace17 @verygraphicink @chubby-dumplin @igotkatiepowers @welcome-to-my-studylife @bi-bi-bi-bisexualz @mywinterwolf @mychemicalimagines @sunmoonandbucky @missdragon-1 @s-0-ldat @jitterbuck @ellaenchanted91 @eversinceeharry @grumpylittledoctor @captainmaka @andreagf956 @damnnlukee @jenlrose @booktease21 @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @eves-library @heirofashandfireheart (still open, send an ask/reply to be added)

You’ve not always known you were good with children. You’d actually had very little to do with them until your mom got sick about ten or so years ago, leaving you almost solely in charge of your seven (at the time) year old sister. Your dad was constantly toting to and from the hospital and while you did have other relatives, it was just simpler to leave her with you. Consequently, you’d learnt a lot of difficult life lessons in the confusing, horrifying months after the diagnosis. Mostly in how to deal with a little girl who didn’t understand her mom was probably dying.

Fortunately, your mom went through treatment and meds and enough appointments to block out whole months in red on the family calendar, and you didn’t have to have that nightmare situation of grieving yourself whilst teaching your little sister what grief meant. The pain still sits in your heart—watching your mom almost wither away, your little sister’s chaotic tears—but you’d got through it. Everything turned out just fine.

Clover Barnes does not have that privilege, but you see what could have happened to your own family all those years ago. What you’d prepared for. You still have the remnants of a disaster plan in your back pocket, what to do if a unit goes nuclear. Sure, you didn’t expect you’d ever need it again, but you have a feeling it might come in useful when dealing with James and Clover Barnes.

“So,” James says, leaning back in his chair, “What happens now?”

It’s now only a few days before Thanksgiving, but after Steve and Nat’s party you had both decided to meet as soon as possible to discuss the future. He’d messaged you, asking if it was okay to meet at a Starbucks not far from his apartment while Clover was at his sister’s. The scene from the bathroom still agonisingly fresh in your mind, you’d agreed, and now you’re sat in a booth near the condensation-fogged window clutching a hot chocolate and a pumpkin spice muffin halved between you.

“What do you want to happen now?” you ask, throwing the question back at him. “What exactly did Steve suggest to you, you know—when he brought it up. What I could do for you.”

“Ah…” James replies, thinking, running a hand across the side of his face. He’d shaved, since the party. The stubble-marked cheeks were now smooth. He looks younger. “I guess we should probably look more into the professional side of things, but… I just need someone to help look after Clover. It’s no good, me tossing her between friends and relatives and people I barely know in my building while I’m working. She hates it. It’s why she plays up so much when she’s not with Becca or Steve and Nat. She trusts nobody. And it’s my fault.”

“If I’m going to work for you, Barnes, you’re going to have to stop blaming yourself for everything. Otherwise I’ll quit.”

He smirks a little at that, bringing the mug of his coffee to his lips. “You’re quitting before you’ve even started? Promising. Blaming myself for how my daughter feels is kinda my job, (Y/N).”

“Bullshit. Sorry. Not having it.” You focus, expression serious, so he knows you mean it. “James, you work a full time job to provide for her as her only parent. It’s going to take time for things to fall into place, and blaming yourself isn’t going to help anyone. You do what you have to do—the only thing you can do. Until you met me.”

James is quiet, looking out the clouded window for a moment or two. A flurry of yellow cabs blur past. The sound of New York. Eventually, he sighs, looking over at you. “Damn. It’s really frustrating that Steve is always right, right?”

“You’ll come to realise that Steve isn’t the only one who’s always right.” You rummage round in the backpack placed next to you on the chair, producing a notebook and pen. “But I meant what I said. I’m here. I’m here for as long as you want me—Steve was also right about how much I hate my job, by the way. I’d much rather look after your daughter. She sounds a lot more fun.”

It looks as if James might make a joke out of that, something along the lines of when she’s not screaming the place down she is, but his love for her is so beautifully unconditional he can’t seem to form the words. He doesn’t want to joke about how much Clover means to him. You can see it in the way his jaw is pressed in a pensive half-smile, the way his shoulders are set. He’s here, speaking to you, because he loves that kid so fucking much.

You flick through your notebook until you come across a bullet-pointed list you’d scrawled down last night when you couldn’t sleep. You wordlessly push it across it to him, and he quizzically picks it up, scanning each carefully crafted statement.

“I jotted down a few potential ways I could be useful. If there’s any you don’t like, or one’s you want to add, fire away. I just thought it would be easier to figure it out that way, rather than us two just blindly rambling about the void.”

-

(Y/N)’s Wildly Long List of (Potential) Duties for Clover (and James) Barnes

·       Take/pick up Clover from school on days that James is working

·       Prepare and cook Clover (and James?)’s meals

·       Watch Clover while James is working or grading papers

·       Help Clover with her homework when James is unable to (n.b. – I’m pretty smart so should be able to do this.)

·       Could also take Clover on Fun Educational (or Non Educational) Outings when James is busy (museums, parks, etc)

·       Help put Clover to bed when James is working late

·       Could teach the ins and outs of basic level philosophy if Clover is interested

·       Do any household cleaning, washing, laundry

·       Anything else James sees appropriate

-

“(Y/N)…” James eventually says, a curiously pained look crossing his features. “This would all—this would all be amazing. Perfect, even. But I can’t… I can’t let you do our laundry, or make our meals. I should be doing all of this myself. I should be capable of at least that.”

“I’m not saying you’re not capable, James. I’ve never said that.” You smile tries to be affirming. “I’m trying to make things easier for the both of you and when things are easier, we can change the agreement. But if you really don’t want me to, I won’t.”

He mulls it over for a while, chewing his bottom lip. He knows this will make his life infinitely easier for him, because you’ve heard from Steve that Clover has her dinner at Becca’s house or his house and James is not the most talented of cooks. Having Clover eat in her own apartment at a set time will guide her into a routine that James should be able to slide into too, eventually. It’s one step closer to her feeling more settled. In learning to trust the solidity of her surroundings—no-one is going anywhere.

“No. I do. I do. This is for the best. Because I say—I say I should be capable, but I’m not. I’m really fucking not.”

You’re reminded of a moment stood outside an open bedroom door, a child sleeping soundly from within. James’ hand feels just as rough in your own as it did then. Just as tense. “Like I said. It’ll come.”

-

The agreement on what exactly being employed by the Barnes family entails is fairly easy. Aside from your list, James is fairly keen on just taking your lead and seeing what happens. Actually moving out of your apartment and into someone else’s is more difficult. This is an act of at least semi-permanence. This is committing to a total change of career. If you can call whatever this is a career.

(Handing in your notice at Vormir Coffee is virtually liberating, however. Your boss near begs you to stay—because you’re the only one insane enough to accept such ridiculous shift patterns—but when you confirm that no, adding a dollar onto your pay isn’t going to convince you to forget your resignation, he doesn’t even want you to work out a notice. You’ll get your last wages at the end of the month but you are not to set foot in his establishment again. Ah, well. You’re not going to be losing sleep about that.)

The move is settled for the Monday following Thanksgiving. You spend the remaining days in your scummy rental place packing up the few belongings you’ve brought over from your family home in California, wondering if you should bother saying goodbye to the mildew spattered along the shower curtain or the mouse that lives behind your television.

You do worry about how James is going to negotiate your moving in—and your place in her life—to Clover. She’s been through enough change. This might just tip her over the edge. But you remember the way she looked at you through her tears on the bathroom floor, and her blind trust in you for those few minutes.

For some reason, you don’t think Clover is going to completely reject you as, for want of a better word, her carer. There is something in you that opened her up, even if she didn’t quite realise what was going on.

Also—at least packing gives you something to do whilst everyone else is enjoying the holiday.

“I never asked,” Bucky says, in one of your many phone calls leading up to your arrival, “What are you doing Thanksgiving?”

You snort, your phone clamped between your ear and your shoulder, as you try and figure out which books should go to charity and which are coming with you. Unsurprisingly, your charity pile is desperately small. “Absolutely nothing at all.”

“What? Nothing? You can’t be doing nothing on Thanksgiving!”

“I can, and I am.”

“Sorry if I’m prying where I’m not wanted, but—I was under the impression you were close to your family. Steve said you and your sister speak constantly.”

Just as he says that, your eyes settle on a metallic, gold photo frame with hand-painted birds on it on the shelf above the television: a gift, from your sister, displaying a photo of the two of you on vacation three years ago. You’re both grinning, sun-kissed and carefree and kind of beautiful. You smile, but everything about it is so awfully sad. “We do. It just couldn’t work out this year, with me all the way over here. It’s a shame, but not a lot I can do about it.”

You hear him hum on the other end of your line. “Well. You could spend Thanksgiving with us.”

“What? With you and Clover? Haven’t you both got family?”

“Not a whole lot, actually. Becca has been invited to her girlfriend’s and I wasn’t going to make her miss out on that. Also didn’t want to intrude on Steve and Nat, so… We’re kind of stranded, too. And I have no idea how to cook a turkey.”

Your smile is a little more genuine at the thought of him trying to wrestle a massive bird into his oven with absolutely no direction on what to do with it next. “It’s a good job you’ve got me, then.”

“Funny. You say that a lot.”

“Only because it’s true, James. I can finally showcase my culinary expertise.”

“We both look forward to it,” he says, then a pause, “What exactly do you need to buy for Thanksgiving dinner, anyway?”

You roll your eyes at your wall, still grinning. “Relax, moron. I’ll make a list, you bring your wallet, and I’ll meet you at the grocery store tomorrow morning before all the good shit is gone.”

He laughs, muffled and disjointed down the phone-line. “Okay. Agreed. I’ll see you then.”

“See you then, James.”

You hang up first, holding the phone in your hand for a second, before promptly logging in to your laptop and googling Thanksgiving Menu Ideas. You’ve got to make this one special.

#bit of a filler but idk #hope you enjoy anyway #we will grow taller together #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x y/n

[ahtohallan-calling]

a week of snow days // a fluffy kristanna fic set in my plane au verse for one shot wednesday!

The first real snow of the year is always an important occasion in the Bjorgman household.

(I recommend reading the previous fics in this verse first!)

one.

“Hey, Anna,” he says, that still-shy smile unfurling on his face even though they’re only talking over the phone and it’s been four months and he told her he loved her weeks ago and she said it right back.

“Kris! Thank goodness I caught you in time!”

“In time? Is something wrong?”

“No, no, it’s just that the weather channel says the first snow will be tomorrow instead of this weekend, and I’m about to have to go into this huge meeting, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to get to the store in time!”

He’s confused; he thought in Colorado, people knew how to drive in the snow. “I don’t think it’ll be bad enough that you won’t be able to go tomorrow.”

“No, no, that’s not the point! It’s the first real snow of the year. I have to have the supplies.”

“What supplies, skatten min? I can bring some rock salt over if--”

“No, I need hot chocolate! The kind with marshmallows. And cookie dough and pretzels and--”

“Anna, start over.”

She heaves out a sigh, and his smile grows. “My family and me, we’ve always celebrated the first big snow like it’s a holiday. We always go out and play in it together, and then come in and have hot chocolate and watch a movie or something. And it’s important to me, and-- and--”

She sounds hesitant, unusual for her; he doesn’t interrupt the silence. Finally, he hears her take a deep breath.

“And you’re important to me, too. So if you have time--”

“Of course I have time. I’ll pick up the hot chocolate and drop it off on my way home.”

“Oh-- thank you, but, um. I also meant...it would be really nice to do my first snow day stuff with you. If you want to, I mean.”

His smile is now a full-blown, ear-to-ear, sun-bright grin. “I’d love to.”

two. 

“You remembered?”

He blinks down at her. She is still curled up on her side in bed, her hair somehow all over her face and her pillow and his pillow all at once. There are shadows under her eyes because she had to meet a deadline last night, and she is wearing his oldest, most worn t-shirt.

She is so beautiful he wonders how the whole world doesn’t stop and stare.

He sits on the edge of the bed, puts his mug of hot chocolate on the nightstand and passes her hers when she sits up. “‘Course I remembered. I want to do this every first snow day for the rest of my life.”

The smile on her face is so warm it could have saved the Titanic a whole lot of trouble. And she doesn’t even know about the ring hidden in the back of his sock drawer.

three.

He pulls in to the already-icy driveway so fast for a moment she is frightened until she remembers he put the snow chains on last week. 

“Come on, my love,” Anna says, picking up her infant daughter from her nap, “let’s get you dressed.”

As if the little girl wasn’t already adorable enough with her mussed blonde curls-- the reason Kristoff keeps calling her his little duckling, even though he was the one who suggested calling her Sofie in the first place-- she gives her mother a sweet smile, the one she is already learning gets her whatever she wants.

Kristoff bursts through the door then, his cheeks red from the cold. “You didn’t take her out yet, did you?”

“Of course not,” Anna reassures him, leaning up on her toes to give him a kiss on the cheek he leans down to receive. “Besides, I’ll need your help getting that snowsuit on.”

His job is mostly to distract Sofie as Anna slides her little kicking legs into the pink, puffy snowsuit, the one they picked because “it has excellent reviews about the quality of insulation” and “the cute little bear ears on top!”

(He did agree once he saw it in person that the bear ears were, as Anna put it, “the cutest thing in the history of the world”, except for of course his daughter. “And you,” he had added, earning himself an extra kiss.)

She lets him carry Sofie outside, knowing that it pulls at him that he cannot stay at home most days like she does. By the way he looks down so solemnly at the infant, she knows there is more on his mind than just this annual tradition. 

As she watches, a single snowflake falls on the tip of Sofie’s tiny, perfect nose; for a moment, she is startled by this new sensation, but then she laughs, for the very first time, and suddenly there are tears in Anna’s eyes.

She thinks there might be some in Kristoff’s, too. “Dette er din første snø, skatten min,” he says softly. “Du vil ikke huske det, men det vil jeg alltid.”

Anna hasn’t picked up enough Norwegian yet to know exactly what he’s saying, but she gets the meaning, all the same, and she tucks her hand under his arm and leans her head against his shoulder, grateful that he will always be there to keep both of his girls warm.

four.

“Are you sure it’s alright?”

“Kris, honey, do you know why I’m so short?”

“Because you didn’t take your vitamins?”

“Because I fell so many times on my head as a baby that it squished me permanently.”

He sighs and leans down to set Sofie on top of a drift of hard-packed snow, though he still holds tight to each of her tiny hands. “That’s not true, Anna.”

“It could be. No one’s ever tested it. But anyway, I ended up fine, didn’t I?”

“Jury’s still out.”

She tries and fails not to giggle at his teasing. Sofie laughs, too, as if somehow she understands. She understands enough, at least: that her parents are happy, and that’s enough to make her happy, too.

“Anyway, honey,” Anna says, moving to stand a few feet in front of the pair of them, “this is better for her to practice than indoors. Out here, all the snow is basically padding.”

“But it’s so cold…”

“Which is why we’ll be here to pick her up and brush the snow off.”

He sighs and slowly lets go of both of the toddler’s hands. She wavers for a moment, and his hands shoot forward to catch her, but then she takes a wobbly step towards her mother.

“That’s it, Ducky!” Anna cheers, “come to Mommy!”

For the first time making this little journey, Sofie doesn’t fall. “You can tell she’s half-Norwegian,” Anna says in between the proud kisses she’s showering on her daughter’s face. “She’s a natural.”

five.

“Hi, Pappa! It's the first snow! Where are you?"

"Hello, my Sofie. And hello Mommy, too. I'm still in New York, remember?"

"But it's the snow, Pappa, it's important."

Anna bites her lip and takes the phone back out of the chubby toddler's hand before she can drop it. "I know," Kristoff says, disappointment in his voice, too. "I was hoping the snow would wait until tomorrow. I'll be home then."

"But it's here today."

She is two and not quite half, and so she does not understand things like dissertations and conferences and the rising costs of air travel.

"I know. But you can drink my cup of hot chocolate for me, okay? From the big cup."

She is, however, old enough to understand that this peace offering is a Very Big Deal.

"Okay!"

Later that night, after she has been put in her favorite pajamas and tucked in with the special blanket and has heard two stories, she remarks to her mother that she would have rather had her father than the special hot chocolate.

Anna calls Kristoff again that night when she has tucked herself in, too. She tells him what Sofie said, and his entire face lights up.

"Now it's only you I have to worry about," he teases.

"What do you mean?"

"That you might love hot chocolate more than me."

Normally she would tease him and say she does, but she wishes he had been here today, too, and so instead she just smiles and says, "You never have to worry about that, skatten min."

six.

“Pappa! Wait!”

He turns, surprised, to see Sofie trailing across the snow towards him, waddling more than usual behind him thanks to her puffy snowsuit and the already-high snowdrifts. 

“Ducky, hva gjør du?” he asks, already turning back to meet her.

“Don’t go to work!” she wails. “There’s snow!”

Before he can reach her, she slips on a slick patch and falls face first into a pile of snow. He breaks into a run, but all of a sudden a massive lump of auburn and white fur is there, using his nose to help push her back upright.

By the time Kristoff reaches her, she’s standing, using the St. Bernard’s back as support; she looks like she’s still torn on whether she should laugh or cry, and so her scoops her up as quick as he can and brushes the snow from her cheeks.

“Tell Olaf thank you,” he says, kissing her forehead to help warm it back up.

“Thank you,” she chirps, and the dog gives a happy no problem woof.

“And anyway, Sofie,” he adds, shifting her to his hip so he can get back to getting the box of Swiss Miss he accidentally left overnight from the trunk of his car, “it’s a Saturday.”

seven. 

“Oh, what’s that big one for?” Anna asks, coming out in the backyard to watch as Sofie struggles mightily to roll a ball of snow that’s almost as tall as she is.

Kristoff’s eyes sparkle with mirth as soon as she asks. Sofie completes another roll and answers cheerfully, “For your tummy.”

She lets out a burst of surprised laughter. “Is it really that big?”

“Yeah, Mommy, it’s ginormous.”

Kristoff tries to hide a snort of laughter by pretending it’s a cough as he comes over to stand with her. “To be fair,” Anna says drily, “I’m seven months pregnant. What’s your excuse?”

She nods at the other snowman Sofie had already built, one that has an even bigger base. “Who do you think that one is?”

Sofie overhears them and calls out, “That’s Pappa!” as if they needed clarification.

Now it’s Anna’s turn to try and hide a laugh. “Perhaps four-year-olds aren’t the best judge,” she says, leaning up to kiss her husband’s cheek. “But just so you know, even if you were that round I’d still think you were the handsomest man alive.”

“You flatter me too much, kjære,” he says, leaning down to give her a proper kiss when Sofie isn’t looking.

“Believe me, I know,” she says, patting the swell of her stomach. “How d’you think I ended up in this situation?”

“Mmm...I thought it had something to do with love at first sight and being married five years to my favorite person and--”

She kisses him again even though Sofie’s watching and will inevitably let out a squeal of disgust. “Well...that too, I suppose.”

“Jeg elsker deg, my Anna.”

She slips her mittened hand into his gloved one. “Love you, too.”

#gabi is posting more art later in this verse too so you can see what baby sofie looks like :') #love my lil duckling #my fics #oneshotwed #liaa #pregnancy cw

[loveforpreserumsteve]

Those Who Fall: “APTF” Story (Modern Domestic Stucky AU)

Twenty-Seven:

"Representing the junior class," the announcer introduced the next boy/girl couple on the homecoming court. A girl with black hair in a purple halter dress with a tulle bottom that complimented her sun-kissed complexion, "Katherine Bishop. Daughter of Derek and Heather Bishop."

As the crowd applauded, the announcer introduced the boy in the snazzy gray suit who's arm was linked with Katherine's. The bright lights glinted off his shiny dark-black bald head, almost looking like it was sprinkled with glitter, "With Elijah Bradley. Son of Sarah Bradley."

Causally, the pair crossed the field and took their place beside the second sophomore couple. Steve enjoyed looking over each of them. The girls in floor-length gowns. Some more poufy with a hoop skirt. Others in more form-fitting ones. The boys also looked handsome in their suits. One of the sophomore boys stood in their marching band uniform, and Steve couldn't help but smile at that.

Approaching the blue and white balloon arch, Cassie stood in her royal blue marching band uniform minus the tall cylindrical hat with the metallic silver tassel plume. Pausing in the archway so the photographer could take a picture of them, Cassie was panting and her alabaster cheeks were flushed. Steve assumed that she was exhausted from the halftime show and having to rush around to meet up with her homecoming court partner.

Cassie fixed a smile on her face and the announcer started again, "Also representing the junior class, Cassandra Lang. Daughter of Scott Lang and Maggie and Jim Paxton."

"Way to go, peanut!" A man loudly cheered, causing Cassie's grin to grow. Causing Steve's grin to grow, too, as he looked towards the middle of the bleachers where the cheer came from.

"With David Alleyne. Son of Christopher and Dorothy Alleyne," the announcer introduced, regaining Steve's attention to the boy with warm medium reddish-brown skin in a mustard yellow suit jacket.

Jonas let out a low whistle as he commented, "Look at his fade. I need to find out who his barber is."

Steve grinned at that and watched as that couple joined the other couples. All the girls -- barring Cassie -- was in elegant dresses. Most of them floor-length. Some of them satin. Some having tulle skirts.

"They're princesses," Sophia said, in awe.

Steve kissed her baby-chubby, round cheek, and agreed, "It's just like the costumes in the make-believe chest, huh?"

Sophia nodded, agreeing. Then, she shook her head, "Those are prettier!"

Steve gave her another kiss and watched as the other boy/girl couples lined up. One of the senior girls in her long sleeve blue and white cheer uniform. With the senior boys, two out of the five couples were in their dirty, grass-stained blue and white football uniform. But the senior that really caught Steve's eye was the boy with the umber, dark yellow-brown black complexion with the bright white mohawk in the blue satin floor-length gown.

It gained Ethan's, too.

From behind Steve, Ethan exclaimed, "He's wearing a dress!"

Steve turned to look back at the six year old while Jonas confirmed, "Yeah, he is! Isn't that cool?"

Bucky moved closer and assured, "See? You can wear all the dresses you want, bub."

"I want that one!" Ethan exclaimed, almost tumbling out of Jonas's arms in his excitement.

"Easy," Bucky warned, ready to catch their son if he actually did squirm his way out of Jonas's grip. Even with Holly still on his hip. Sweetly, Bucky agreed, "We'll try and find one."

"Okay!" Ethan cheered.

Steve glanced back at him again and gave him a wink, which earned him a smile that crinkled all the way up to his eyes and even moved his thick glasses. Playfully, Jonas ruffled Ethan's white-blond hair and kissed his rosy cheek when the six year old complained. When Steve turned back to watch the ceremony, his heart was full.

Even more so when the senior boy in the dress won homecoming king and bypassed the girl who was crowned queen to dip the boy beside her. Giving the football player a passionate kiss that made the Barneses cheer even louder.

"For Christ's sake, this is supposed to be a family event!"

Steve unwrapped his arms from Sophia's body and turned to look at the person behind them. Narrowing his eyes at the woman. After all, Steve had been dealing with these types of comments since before he even came out. And he didn't want his children to experience such prejudices.

Jonas glared at the woman and Bucky opened his mouth to say something, but Katie beat him to it, "And what exactly makes it not, 'family friendly?'"

"It's just not right," the woman stated. Then, this woman in her, Number One Football Mom, sweatshirt gave Steve and Bucky a pointed look, "It indoctrinates the youth and spreads a perverted agenda."

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about," Katie said, stepping onto the aluminum bench seat so she was physically towering over the woman. Even though that definitely wasn't unlikely before, but it got her point across.

A point that the woman obviously didn't approve of as she asked Bucky, "You're going to let your daughter use such foul language?"

"It's a part of the indoctrination," Bucky mocked.

"Ya know, teach them to stand up for themselves and others in the face of adversity," Steve added.

Beside the woman, a man, presumably her husband, tried to get her to mind her business. And while Steve would often be angry by anyone trying to stifle someone else, he had no issue with this particular instance. In fact, Steve hoped that Football Mom would listen to him and mind her own business. They were, after all, trying to have a fun night out supporting their children. This was the last thing any of them should be doing.

Crossing her arms, the woman rolled her eyes before averting her gaze back to the field where the game was getting ready to start again. Steve let out a breath of relief and Katie climbed down from the bench seat, but she didn't go back to the spot she had been in. No, Katie stayed in the spot between Jonas and Bucky while remaining behind Steve. Protecting him. Protecting them.

#a place to fall #jump then fall #those who fall #bonus #stucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x bucky barnes #marvel #fanfic #wattpad #ao3 #modern au #domestic life #fluff #smut #otp