#She sends for backup

[thisdorkyblogthing]

Thorki AU where Thor and Loki start a band when they're teens but it's mostly just the two of them because they're messy little fuckers who constantly butt heads and no one can stand to be around them for too long. Somehow, they're still really good and end up getting picked up by a record label and become a hit. This, of course, makes them even messier fuckers and their constant drama makes them an even bigger draw to more people. They manage to find a small team of people who are (mostly) willing to stick it out with them and make a few hit albums and get through a few tours. (They just barely manage to get through them by the skin of their teeth, but still!)

Unfortunately, their latest album hasn't done as well critically or commercially and the tension between Thor and Loki has been at an all time high, which has really made touring unbearable for everyone involved. A particularly rough performance the night before ended up with Loki and Thor getting into a(nother) nasty little ruckus that had their manager calling up the front desk of the hotel with a preemptive "I'm sorry for whatever happens to that suite, we'll pay for the damages, please don't call the cops, thank you."

They show up to the tour bus the next morning and something's... different. Sure, usually after a bad argument they're a bit quiet and sulky until one of them cracks a joke that makes the other laugh and everything's good again until the next shitfit ensues, but this time they're real quiet and avoiding looking at each other(and everyone else) and everyone's getting worried that this might be the fight that finally breaks them up.

Except actually they had an angry fuck after Loki said 'We'Re NoT EvEn ReEeEeAl BrOtHeRs!!?!' for like, the 700th time and Thor was like 'FINE!' and smashed their mouths together. Things Happened and now they're a bit shell shocked and trying to figure how to feel about it. (And trying valiantly to convince themselves It Wasn't That Good.)

(It was That Good. Oops.)

[mitchftw]

"Eh.. she ain't so bad. No worse than Rin or even my Miko." Dennis airily laughs, gratefully taking that water bottle and chugging it down in a matter of seconds.

"HAH! Look at me, already making a good impression with your only friend! Eat it, Williams!"

"Get back to work already!"

"But, but -" she speeds out the room, and without warning, grabs Dennis by the face and pulls him close to Mitch "Rincat's adorable!!! And look at you being oh so sweet! It's been months since I seen you act like that!!! Oh, he mentioned another Miko -" the squished face is now being forcibly turned to her, "totes gotta hear about her!!!" And then quickly pulled away as she leans closer to Mitch. "Can you imagine! Two of me!!!"

"A nightmare come to life," he mutters, flinching as Miko enters his personal space. "Visiting after work to deal with Rin is bad enough."

"Rin?! O-M-SQUEE! Dude, dude dude," aaand Dennis's head is being pulled back, "you have a twin?!" Because that can be the only logical explanation for why there is a Rin and a Rincat.

[bastart13]

if I remember correctly, you've mentioned having written a few l&l fanfics - is there any way for us to read them?

Hmm, you might have seen in the "extras" part of the game, but I actually added some snippets of a fic in there (the other is by my sister in the same AU). My biggest issue is that by "writing fanfics" I mean I've written out of context snippets of a greater story in my head. I'm pretty bad at getting the actual narrative down and the scenes themselves mostly work... if you're in my head. So they're hard to share

[navree]

waller is just full on willing to let sam die huh

[thebiggestmenace]

What are your thoughts on Abby?

Absolutely no judgement wether you like/dislike her, I feel like this is a controversial question within the fandom lol

hi, anon, I have many a thought and this is definitely a controversial question in the fandom lmao

I think she grows on you. when I first watched a gameplay, I absolutely hated her, I hated the fact that you had to play as her and that her part might be longer (it felt like it at the time, but I'm not sure if it is actually longer) than Ellie's. but after watching it for the third time, I do not despise her anymore. I get why she did what she did, but I do not love her.

again, I get why she did the golfing, but really? it was 4 years, Abby. surely, you noticed that you'd just be passing your own grief onto someone else? and shooting him in the leg? really? I imagine that was because Abby knew it wouldn't have been an easy fight if he wasn't injured, but still. he helped you, man. once Ellie got there and Abby had to hear the cries and the screams from her, did she not realize that Joel was a father figure to her? that she would just be pushing her own giref onto her? and 4 years, really? I know I already mentioned that, but seriously. she had to have realized at some point that killing Joel wouldn't help her.

however, they did make Abby similar to Joel, so it isn't a strong hatred at all. her willing to risk everything for Yara and Lev, then doing everything in her power to protect Lev. Joel did the same for Ellie, and look where that got him. I don't know how to properly articulate this, anon, but I do get why she did it, I just don't like it.

and that isn't solely for the fact of the golfing. it's also - it didn't need to be that brutal. at all. it didn't need to happen in front of Ellie. Abby wasn't there for Jerry's death, and Jerry's death was pretty clean cut. there was no pain. just a shot to the head. Joel's?? first you shoot him in the leg, then drag him down to a basement and beat the shit out of him with a golf club? and not stopping when his daughter comes in? it didn't need to go like that.

and the theater?? yes, Ellie didn't need to kill every single one of Abby's friends, but tbh Ellie lost everyone that meant something to her, so Abby taking Joel was most likely just the final straw for her. Ellie wasn't in the right state of mind for that whole trip, and yes, she was in the wrong, but that isn't to say that Abby's in the right. I know Abby didn't know this, but Ellie did not know Mel was pregnant, Abby was told point blank that Dina was, and she still tried to kill her. I am forever grateful that Lev got her to stop, cause man, I would not have survived that. but it's just a constant cycle of grief. Joel kills Jerry, Abby kills Joel, Ellie kills Abby's friends, Abby kills one of Ellie's and tries for more.

and then the epilogue???? this has many variables to it, in my opionon. yes, Abby did leave Ellie after the theater, so Ellie going after her was her own choice and so she could've deserved what happened. but I don't think it was really Ellie's choice in going. this is why we don't like game Tommy, by the way. Ellie wanted to go after Abby before she showed up at the theater, Tommy wanted to take Dina and everyone back to Jackson, so they did. and then once Ellie is living as best a life as she can, all things considered, Tommy shows up and yells at her to go back after Abby because "'I'll make her pay.' That's what you said once we got back to Jackson." and Ellie does go after her, because this grief is just. so heavy in her, she feels she has to.

but her going to Santa Barbara means that she was able to save Abby and Lev. so she did, and then she fought her. I'm torn for the fight because Abby kept telling Ellie to just let them leave, and they'll forget everything and they won't have to see each other again. but also Abby bit off her fucking fingers, so. her biting off the fingers has always gotten me. I know Abby doesn't know about Ellie's life outside all this fighting, but that was her one connection to Joel. and now. it's gone. but Ellie was able to realize that killing Abby wouldn't do anything. it wouldn't bring Joel back. it wouldn't make any of this better. if anything, it'll make it worse and also pass it onto Lev.

so yes, this is how I feel about Abby. I do not hate her, but she is not a favourite. she's very neutral to me currently, but everytime I rewatch the game, I hate her less, so with this fourth rewatch, my opinions may change again. but this is how I currently feel

[deeisace]

Loud complaining

I do Not want to go to work >:(

[many-gay-magpies]

teen wolf folks random question. what would be more in character? allison remembering how often scott allegedly sends isaac to check up on her and texting them both when she and her dad are about to take a day off to go hunt kate so that doesnt happen, OR she forgets to text them and isaac shows up in the woods looking for her because she, once again, missed school without explanation and he and scott got worried. hm?

[buckysleftbicep]

what's left behind 𐙚 b.b

pairing: new avenger!bucky barnes x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, 18+, minors dni, soft smut, unprotected sex, lots of vulnerability, angst, arguments

summary: after finding out bucky’s leaving on another mission without telling you, everything falls apart. the argument is brutal, but that night, he comes back to hold you. just once more. maybe for the last time.

word count: 3.6k

author's note: hi loves, i hope you enjoy this fic, thank you for stopping by! i love ya and stay safe out there!

requests are open!

The training room pulsed with familiar noise, the heavy thud of gloves against bags, low music crackling from the corner speaker, the distant echo of Alexei's grunts as Yelena dodged and countered with practiced ease. You were seated near the mats, crouched low to tighten your bootlaces, half-listening as Ava adjusted the wraps on her wrists beside you.

Then came John. He wandered over with a towel slung around his neck and a water bottle in hand.

“Man,” he said with a half-laugh, “Barnes really got the short end of the stick this time, huh?”

You didn’t look up. “What are you talking about?”

He shrugged, grinning like it was just another joke. “Val’s sending him to Prague for that off-the-books recon shit. Solo op, no backup. Tonight, I think. Hope he’s got his will written.”

The blood drained from your face.

“What did you say?”

John blinked, caught off guard. “What? I figured you—”

Yelena’s head snapped toward him mid-spar. “John,” she barked, sharp as a blade. Her gloves dropped to the mat with a thud as she stalked over, face thunderous. “sometimes you should shut up"

But the damage was done. You were already rising, the laces on your boots forgotten, breath stuck somewhere between your ribs and throat.

“What mission?” you asked, voice brittle.

Yelena slowed as she approached, expression softening the second she really looked at you. “Shit,” she muttered, shoulders slumping. “He didn’t tell you.”

Your stomach turned. Ice spread through your limbs like a warning.

“No,” you whispered.

The room began to distort—muffled punches, shifting feet, the faint ring of metal-on-metal—all of it warped around the sudden roar in your head. You looked at Yelena, waiting for her to laugh it off, say she got the timing wrong, that it wasn’t a big deal.

She didn’t.

“It’s just recon,” she offered weakly. “Val briefed him this morning. Probably nothing.”

“And all of you knew?” you asked softly.

No one said it out loud, but the looks on their faces answered for them. Yelena's hesitation, Ava's downcast eyes, John's wince—it was written in the silence, heavy and unspoken.

“Then why didn’t he tell me?” The words were low, almost strangled. No one answered.

John had the decency to look like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, guilt crawling over his features. "Maybe he just... didn’t want you to worry," he offered quietly, voice far too late and far too unsure.

You had heard that sentence one too many times. The last few instances Val had pulled him for something like this, he came back a mess, bloodied and bruised.

Once, he was rushed straight to the med wing in the middle of the night, unconscious, soaked in blood that wasn’t all his. And even then, he hadn’t been alone. John had been there, Ava too as his backup

But this time? This time he was going alone.

Alexei, still leaning against the ropes, huffed and shook his head. "Barnes is idiot," he muttered.

Ava moved like she might say something, lips parting slightly, then thought better of it. Yelena didn’t look away, she just watched you with something that looked too much like sympathy.

You stood there in the stunned quiet, heart crawling its way up your throat.

You inhaled sharply, blinked hard, and turned for the door.

“Where are you going?” Yelena asked, her voice soft now.

“I need to find him.”

You didn’t wait for a reply.

The doors slid shut behind you as you stepped into the corridor, every footfall too fast, too loud. The air outside the training room was cold, sterile, and it did nothing to cool the heat rising in your chest, that bitter, crawling ache you only ever felt when he shut you out.

He didn't even bother telling you.

Not even a word. Not at breakfast. Not when he kissed your forehead half-asleep last night. Not when he curled around you, hand resting warm on your hip like he always did when he didn’t want to talk about what was coming.

He was going to leave. Again. No note. No warning. You’d have woken up alone, found his side of the bed cold and empty, and the duffel gone.

Without telling you.

He came back around six that evening.

The door creaked open with that soft, careful click, the one he always used when he thought you might be sleeping. Like if he was quiet enough, you wouldn’t notice the weight he was carrying. Like he could still pretend this wasn’t about to break you.

You were already sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows braced against your thighs, hands clenched so tight your knuckles were bone-white. You heard the soft rustle of fabric as he stepped inside.

The quiet thud of his boots. He smelled like sweat and cold air and hotel soap, still damp from the showers downstairs, hair curling faintly at the ends. The black tactical shirt clung to his frame, soaked down the spine. He moved like nothing was wrong.

He set his gloves on the dresser. Dropped his bag near the closet. Reached for the strap of his holster.

“When were you going to tell me?”

His hands stopped moving. He turned slowly, eyes cautious, like he already knew.

“It’s just recon,” he said, voice steady in that way he used when he knew you were about to snap. “In and out.”

You rose to your feet. “Don’t do that,” you said, voice shaking. “Don’t stand there and lie to my face like it’s not another off-the-books op with no support. Don’t act like Val doesn’t send you to bleed for her."

He exhaled through his nose, jaw clenched. “I wasn’t lying.”

“You weren’t telling the truth either,” you said. “You weren’t going to tell me anything. You were going to disappear. Again.”

He stepped back, defensive. “I was going to tell you—”

“When?” you cut in, voice cracking. “When I woke up to an empty bed and your fucking dog tags gone?”

His mouth opened. Closed. He ran a hand through his hair like he could smooth out the mess he made with silence. “I didn’t want you to panic.”

“Bullshit,” you hissed. “You didn’t want to see me panic. You didn’t want to watch me fall apart because you would rather carry everything alone and pretend it doesn’t hurt.”

His tone sharpened. “You think this doesn’t kill me too? You think I want to leave you? That I don’t lie awake every time I get called and wonder if it’s the last time I’ll see you?”

“Then why do you keep letting them take you?” you cried. “Why do you keep letting her use you like you’re expendable?”

Bucky’s jaw flexed, teeth grinding. “Because she doesn’t ask. She corners me. Hands me a file and reminds me what happens if I say no.”

“That’s not an excuse,” you snapped, eyes glassy as tears threatened to spill.

“No,” he bit out, “it’s not. But it’s the truth. You think I get to walk away? Say, ‘Sorry, Val, not this time’? She doesn’t care. She reminds me what I was built for. What I’m good at.”

“You’re good at surviving,” you shot back, breath catching. “And all you’ve done lately is survive. Bleed for people who don’t care if you make it home and you let it happen.”

He turned away, pacing like the walls were shrinking around him. “If I don’t go, someone else does. Someone who won’t make it back.”

“So that’s it?” you said, voice rising. “You martyr yourself over and over again and I’m just supposed to sit here and watch?”

“I’m not a fucking martyr!” he exploded, voice cracking. “I don’t sleep. I don’t breathe when I’m not out there. I come back in pieces and pretend I’m fine because I don’t want to see that look in your eyes.”

“You don’t want to see me scared?” you asked, furious tears spilling freely now. “Then stop giving me reasons to be fucking terrified.”

He stopped. Breathing hard. Looking at you like it hurt just to meet your eyes.

“You think I don’t want to stay?” he whispered. “You think this is easy for me?”

“I think you’re punishing yourself,” you said, voice trembling. “Because somewhere deep down, you still think you deserve it.”

He didn’t deny it.

You took a step back, chest heaving. “You let Val own you,” you whispered. “You let her decide how much of you I get to keep. And every time you go, I get a little less.”

His voice was thin. “I never wanted you to see me like this.”

“I see you Bucky,” you said. “And I love you anyway. But you don’t let me hold any of it. You don’t trust me with the parts of you that hurt.”

His mouth opened, but nothing came out.

So you kept going. “I’m not asking you to quit. I’m asking you to stop walking out that door like you’re already halfway gone.”

And that’s when he said it.

“Maybe you should stop waiting for me like I’m gonna die.”

Your lips parted. Your breath stopped. A sob caught somewhere in your chest and refused to move.

He froze.

You didn’t scream. You didn’t throw anything. You just stood there, broken open in the center of the room, tears pouring freely down your face.

Your voice trembled when it came. “I wait for you because I love you. Not because I want to lose you.”

He didn’t say anything.

Didn’t reach for you. Didn’t even move.

You wiped at your face with a shaking hand and stepped back.

“I hope the mission’s worth it.”

And then you turned and walked out, footsteps too loud in the hallway, tears burning every step of the way—while behind you, the man you loved just stood there.

And let you go.

You sat curled in the corner of your bedroom, back pressed to the wall like it might hold you together, knees drawn tight to your chest.

The shirt on your skin was his—the one he had left draped over the chair last night. It smelled like him. Damp in places, creased from your grip, warm where your body clung to it. You hadn’t changed. Couldn’t. Peeling it off felt like severing the last piece of him you had left.

The silence wasn’t quiet. It was hollow. Heavy. The kind that followed after something had cracked wide open and left nothing in its place.

You didn’t know how long you’d been sitting there—long enough for the ache to settle into your spine, for your breathing to level out into something quiet but not calm.

The clock ticked on, cruel in its indifference. You imagined him already gone, the duffel slung over his shoulder, the bed behind him cold, the door clicking shut like none of it ever mattered and you waiting for him, heart thundering in your chest as you awaited for an update from someone, anyone.

Then came the knock.

Three soft taps. Hesitant. Uneven. Like he didn’t know if he was still allowed to be on the other side of your door.

You didn’t move. Not yet. The second knock came after a pause. Then nothing.

Eventually, you stood up, not because you were ready, but because you couldn’t not know. You opened the door.

He was still in the same gear, shirt clinging to his chest, sleeves, pants creased and dust-streaked. The holster was gone, but his boots were still on. His hair was damp from a rushed shower, curling faintly at the ends. Those cerulean eyes were red-rimmed, glassy, he looked wrecked.

You didn’t speak. Neither did he, not at first.

Then his voice broke the quiet. “I shouldn’t have said that.” Your voice came out flat. “No. You shouldn’t have.”

He nodded once, jaw flexing hard. His hands twitched uselessly at his sides. “I’ve been out here for twenty minutes,” he said, hoarse. “Trying to figure out what the hell I could say that’d make you open the door. That might make this less fucking ugly.”

You didn’t respond. Your heart ached, but your mouth wouldn’t move.

“I-I don’t know how to leave you,” he said quietly, “and still get on that plane.”

You looked at him then—really looked. He wasn’t wearing armour anymore. Not the kind that mattered. Not the kind that could keep this out. He was unraveling, standing there like he didn’t know where to put the hurt.

“I know I don’t deserve it,” he said, voice shaking now, almost breathless. “But please, baby, Just tonight. Let me stay. Let me hold you. Before I go."

And you stood there, heart cracked open, staring at the man who had broken it and realising, in the hollow quiet between you, that he was bleeding too.

He didn’t press. Just stood there for a breath longer, eyes on yours, like he was waiting for you to slam the door or let it fall open wider. And when you didn’t move, when you didn’t speak or breathe or push him away, he stepped inside, quiet and slow, like he was afraid any sound might shatter what was left.

He looked around the room like it hurt to be in it, like every corner still held a trace of his voice, his laughter, the way his hands used to hold you without hesitation.

He didn’t speak. Didn’t make excuses. He just came to you. And when he reached you, he didn’t plead. He simply gathered you into his arms.

You didn’t resist, no, you couldn’t. Not when his warmth surrounded you like that—desperate, unsteady. Like he was terrified this might be the last time.

His hands trembled where they touched your back. His breath hitched when your face pressed into his shoulder. And for a long moment, neither of you said a word. You just stood there, wrapped up in each other like it was the only way to stay upright.

Then his voice cracked the silence, low and barely there. “Please. Just one more night. Let me love you one more time before I go.”

Your fingers curled into his shirt. He pulled back only enough to look at you, eyes red, jaw tight with restraint, like this whole thing was holding together by a thread.

And when you didn’t answer, when your eyes only shined up at him, raw and full, he kissed you. It wasn’t desperate or rushed. It was like he was trying to remember every part of you by heart, like he was memorising the taste of you.

His hands moved slowly, down your back, over your ribs, under your shirt. The cotton lifted over your head with careful fingers. He undressed you the way someone handles something precious they’re afraid to lose—gently, every motion saying I’m sorry.

His lips trailed along your collarbone, your jaw, the corners of your eyes. When he laid you back against the mattress, his mouth moved lower, kissing your chest, your stomach, the inside of your thighs.

And when he pressed his lips to your skin, you whispered his name like it was a prayer, like it was the only word left in you.

He took his time. He touched you like he wanted to worship every inch. And when he finally moved above you, when he pushed into you slow and deep, it wasn’t to claim, it was to remember.

He buried his face in your neck, his hand tangled with yours beside your head. The stretch of him made your breath stutter, but you didn’t care. You wanted to feel it. All of it. Wanted the ache, the weight, the heat. So you could remember exactly how it felt to be his. His pace was slow, measured, meant to carve into you like a promise.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, forehead pressed to yours, breath shaking with the effort not to fall apart.

“I’m scared,” you whispered, your voice breaking on the words.

“Me too,” he said—and the quiet agony in it wrecked you.

You clung to him tighter, wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your legs around his waist. And still it wasn’t close enough.

You cried before you came, not from pain, not even from pleasure, but from the weight of it all. From the terrifying, beautiful knowledge that this might be the last time. That you were loving each other like you were running out of time because maybe, this time, this mission, you were.

And when you shattered around him, he was right there, whispering your name, holding your face like it was something holy. He followed soon after, breaking apart with a ragged groan into your mouth, like he couldn’t bear to let go of you even for that.

And when it was over, when the world quieted again, he didn’t move. He just stayed wrapped around you, one hand cradling your cheek, the other resting low on your back, his heartbeat thudding hard against your chest.

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t have to. Because in that moment, your bodies said everything your hearts couldn’t. And maybe that was enough.

You lay sprawled across his chest, skin still slick with sweat and salt, your cheek rising and falling with every unsteady breath he took. His arms were wrapped around you like a lifeline, like he couldn’t bear the thought of not holding you if this was it.

His voice broke the silence, quiet, so quiet you almost didn’t hear it.

“I told Val this is the last one for a while."

Your fingers twitched against his ribs, but you didn’t speak.

“I want peace," he whispered. “And I want… you.”

That was what did it. Not the words, but the way he said them. Like a man who finally realised what he could lose.

“Will she let you?” you asked, barely above a breath.

He exhaled, a rough sound that cracked in the middle. “Doesn’t matter. Even if she doesn’t, I’m done, at least for now. I won’t let her take this from me too.”

You didn’t reply. You didn’t trust yourself to. You just let him press a kiss to your wrist, to the fragile skin where your pulse raced like it knew time was running out.

“I’ll come home (y/n), I swear to you."

But even as he said it, you both knew the truth—promises made before war rarely survived it.

Sleep came slow and fitful. When you finally drifted off, you curled yourself around him like you could anchor him there, like your body could keep him from slipping through the cracks.

But the morning came anyway.

And with it came the emptiness.

You woke to a bed that was too quiet, too cold. The warmth of him was fading fast, almost like he had left just minutes before. The pillow beside you was indented where his head had been. Your fingers reached for it before you could stop yourself.

No sound. No footsteps. No gear being packed in the hallway. He was gone.

For a second, your throat closed. Then you saw it. Right there on the nightstand.

A folded note with your name written on it in his sharp, slanted scrawl.

And beside it were his dog tags.

Not around his neck. Not taken for luck.

Left behind. Your heart seized.

You picked them up with shaking hands. They were still warm—and somehow, that broke you even more. Like he hadn’t wanted to take that piece of himself with him. Like he knew he might not come back, and couldn’t bear to let you be without it.

You opened the note.

I love you. I need you to believe that. If something happens, it was never because I didn’t try to get back to you. You’re the only thing I’ve ever been sure of. Wait for me. — James

You didn’t cry right away. You just sat there, staring at the words. Holding the tags to your chest like a lifeline. Like maybe if you clutched them hard enough, he’d come back through the door.

But the door stayed closed.

Now, all you had was a note, a promise, and the weight of him still lingering in the sheets.

So when he returned two weeks later, quiet and bruised, with a half-healed cut beneath his eye and his duffel slung over one shoulder, you didn’t breathe at first.

His eyes found you immediately, and for a long moment, the hallway went still.

You didn’t run to him. Not at first.

Because you didn’t trust it. Didn’t trust your own legs. Didn’t trust that this was real and not just another dream you had to wake from, sweating and empty, with his dog tags clutched in your hand and his note folded beneath your pillow.

But he stopped walking. Dropped the duffel.

Held out his arms. And that’s when you moved.

You collided with him all at once, fists against his chest, then fingers in his jacket, then your face pressed to his neck. His arms came around you instantly, crushing you to him like he needed proof you were still here.

Still his. Still waiting.

“I told you I’d come home,” he whispered, voice raw, rough with exhaustion.

You didn’t answer right away. Just stood there, trembling, forehead pressed to his jaw, tears threatening again.

“I know Bucky" you said. "I believe you."

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. And when he kissed you, it wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t frantic.

It was everything he hadn’t said.

Everything he’d nearly lost. And everything he came back for.

a/n: i think i have a penchant for writing angst, i enjoy it and i hope you enjoy my work!

requests are open!

[sweetstrawberryys]

“She’s in Labor?!?”

Summary: Your water breaks, and the strongest, deadliest men on Earth suddenly forget how to function.

Rating: Hilarious chaos with heartwarming panic and big brother energy (plus one very protective husband)

Masterlist

---

Soap (Johnny McTavish)

He’s the first one to scream.

You were just standing in the kitchen, eating frozen grapes, when your face suddenly scrunched. Then came the sentence that would send him into orbit:

“Um… I think my water just broke.”

Johnny blinked. “Broke what?”

You stared at him. “My. Water.”

“…OH BLOODY HELL.”

He spun in three full circles before grabbing his phone, keys, your hospital bag, and accidentally—his tactical vest.

“Johnny!” you shouted. “You don’t need your combat knife!”

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT I NEED RIGHT NOW!”

Ends up driving you to the hospital with one hand on the wheel and the other clenched around yours like you’re defusing a bomb. Tears in his eyes. Keeps whispering, “You’ve got this, love. You’re so damn strong. I’m right here.”

He does not leave your side. Not for water. Not to pee. Not for God himself.

---

Price (Captain John Price)

If he’s the dad, he’s prepared. Had your hospital bag packed two months ago. Knew the signs. Has a backup plan. A spreadsheet.

But the moment you say, “It’s time,” that man goes dead silent.

You: “John, did you hear me?”

Price: Nods slowly, blinks once.

You: “…Are you okay?”

Price: Already lifting you like a damn princess. “Yeah. Yeah, just—f**king hell, it’s happening.”

He becomes hyperfocused. He’s the one timing contractions, double-checking your breathing, adjusting your seatbelt, coaching you the whole way with that deep, calming voice:

“You’re doin’ perfect, love. Deep breaths. Almost there. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

And when it’s finally time? He kisses your forehead and whispers, “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

---

Gaz (Kyle Garrick)

Gaz is a mess. Like, heart pounding, phone upside down, nearly calls 911 when you say, “My water just broke.”

“Wait—wait, like, now? Now now???”

“Yes, Kyle.”

“Okay—okay! Don’t panic. Don’t panic. One of us has to stay calm, and you’re kinda busy!”

He accidentally forgets the hospital bag, then comes sprinting back five minutes later with four bags, unsure which one’s the real one.

At the hospital, he’s pacing like he’s awaiting a mission briefing. Texting 141 updates every 30 seconds. Even crying a little.

But the moment the baby’s out and he hears that first cry?

He breaks. In the softest, happiest way. “That’s our baby, love. You did that. I can’t believe it. You’re f***ing incredible.”

---

Ghost (Simon Riley)

Says absolutely nothing for the first thirty seconds. You tell him you’re in labor, and he just stares.

Then, suddenly, moves with terrifying speed.

Throws on his hoodie. Grabs your bag. Guides you to the car like he’s in a tactical op. Voice low, calm, deadly precise.

“You alright? Breathing okay? You’re safe. We’re good. I’ve got you.”

You didn’t think he could be gentle, but he holds your hand like it’s fragile. Sits behind the curtain with his head against yours, murmuring quiet things between contractions:

“You’re not alone. I’m here, yeah? Not goin’ anywhere.”

And when the baby’s born? He chokes on a breath and whispers, “Bloody hell... they’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

Then he holds them with big, calloused hands and rocks like he was born to do it. Doesn’t say much, but you catch the tear slipping down his cheek.

Bonus: The Rest of the Team

They show up at the hospital like a squad of worried uncles.

• Soap brings a giant stuffed bear and immediately cries.

• Gaz holds the baby like it’s made of glass and won’t stop taking photos.

• Price stands in the corner with arms crossed, eyes watery, whispering, “Takes after their mum.”

• Ghost stays quiet... then sneaks in a baby hat he knitted himself and pretends he didn’t.

[autumnmatt]

𝘨𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺.

summary: matt is playing fornite with his two brothers and he gets to loud when he keeps losing, causing his girlfriend to wake up from her slumber.

classification: fluff

warnings: kissing, pet names, suggestive language, use of y/n

it was about 3 in the morning and you were fast asleep in yours and matts bed, snuggled up in a blanket with matts stuffed pug mr. wrinkleton tucked under your arm.

matt on the other hand was in the middle of a very intense fornite match with his brothers nick and chris. there were about 10 people left in that match and your boyfriend was very determined to win.

all was going good during the game play until him and his brothers came across this very sweaty team. “on me on me!! these kids are good I need backup quickkk” matt yelled to nick and chris through his headset.

he then faced one of the opposing teammates but of course he lost the battle between them and got knocked. “FUCKKKKK” he screamed out of frustration. nick also got killed a little while after matt did by the same person.

y/n wasn’t that much of a heavy sleeper so when he started to yell out, she shifted in bed a little opening up her eyes to see what the yelling was coming from.

she looked up and saw the bright screen in front of her with fornite being played along with her boyfriend sitting in his gaming chair banging on the desk from just getting killed. she puts the blanket over her head and closes her eyes in an attempt to fall back asleep.

“CHRIS DUDE YOURE SO BAD THOSE KIDS WERE ASS” matt yells, slamming his controller on the desk making a very loud sound that could be heard throughout the room.

y/n tossed and turned once more slowly losing the battle of getting back to sleep. so she got up, yanked the covers off of her body, and started sleepily walking over towards matt, dragging her feet with every step she took.

once she made it over to the chair where he sat she stood there, waiting for matt to realize she was standing here. and once he did he could see the pout forming on her lips, instantly feeling guilt for being so loud so late at night.

“oh baby I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” he frowned, muting his mic and taking his headset off then holding his arms out to her and patting his lap, inviting her to come sit down.

she straddled him and rested her head on his shoulder, enjoying the comfort of his warm body and taking in his familiar scent, the scent she loved most.

“go back to sleep baby, I promise I’ll keep it down”. he said and kissed the top of her head, wrapping his arms around her so that he could still have access to the controller also slowly rubbing up and down on her lower back.

“come to bed with me.” she groaned into his shoulder. she was already strarting to fall back asleep.

“of course I will baby.” he smiled taking his hands off the controller putting the headset on one last time to tells his brothers his was going to sleep. he shut of his computer, put his headset and controller up and gently picked her up to bring to the bed.

you wrapped your arms around his neck to prevent yourself from falling out of his arms. your face now buried into his chest.

he set you down on your side of the bed before walking over to his pulling the blanket over the both of you and situating the pillows so they were at a comfortable position under your heads.

you faced him for a few seconds to say your goodnights. you kissed his lips lazily before speaking. “goodnight I love you.” you spoke up, resting your head onto his chest and wrapping your arms around him.

“goodnight I love you too baby”. he said before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him. he kissed your forehead before you slowly drifted off to sleep in each others arms.

a/n: AHHHH I think this is so cute. my 2nd story on here, thank you so much for the love on my first story and definitely send me some requests. hope you enjoyed this fic, love you all!!!

taglist: @stayingstromboli @conspiracy-ash

respond to this post to be apart of my taglist!

[mitchftw]

Ah. Wrong Mitch. Looks like we're stuck with you huh?

Cedric is a wizard your alternate self new.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN WRONG MITCH?! THERE'S ONLY ONE OF ME?"

[alisonwritesimagines]

Don't Blame Me ~Bucky Barnes Imagine~

Summary: Bucky accidentally reverts back to the Winter Soldier when you get hurt in a mission.

Author’s Note: You can read this as either friends with benefits and romantic feelings towards each other or pre-established relationship.

Prequel | Part Three

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: avenger!reader, winter soldier!bucky, hurt and comfort, google russian translation, dice that is used as an explosive device

Do not repost this anywhere!

The mission turned a dark turn when more Hydra soldiers ambushed you unexpectedly.

"Gonna need some backup here," you say into the comms as the Hydra soldiers began to shoot at you. You hid behind a pillar as you reached into your pocket. You pulled out your dice container to see you only had one dice left.

Your dice were your best hidden weapon. Whatever number it laded on, the amount of force would be used against your opponents. While one was enough to blind people, six was usually what you wanted for this situation.

“Fuck,” you mumbled.

"I'm on my way," you heard Bucky say.

You looked back at the Hydra soldiers before tossing your last dice over to them.

“Please land on a six,” you mumbled. You watched as it landed on a five before it exploded, sending the soldiers to fly back. You smiled before turning to see a soldier in front of you.

“Oh shit,” you sighed. The soldiers quickly grabbed you by the throat before throwing you to the side. You kicked his legs, knocking him down as you quickly got up. You felt someone grab you, making you look to see more soldiers appear. They slammed you against the wall hard, making you groan in pain.

“Thought you could defeat us huh?” The soldier taunted. You saw from the corner of your eye as Bucky showed up.

Bucky watched as your body was thrown back against the wall. Hard. He could hear your groan as you tried to get up. Before he could go to you, he felt him take over.

You heard gunshots and yelling as you slowly woke up. You turned to your side to see Bucky fighting killing the people that attacked you.

"Bucky," you say weakly.

Your vision began to blur a little. But you managed to see Sam fly over to you. He picked you up gently but you let out a small whimper in pain.

The Winter Soldier's head snapped over to you as he watched Sam carry you. The Winter Soldier aimed his gun at him.

"It's okay. I'm just gonna bring her to the Quinjet," Sam tells Bucky quickly. Or at least who he thought was Bucky.

"не трогай ее (Don't touch her)," the Winter Soldier says to Sam.

Sam's eyes widen a little.

"Cap. We got a code snow," Sam tells into the comms. You heard the code as you struggled to stay awake.

Code Snow. Bucky turned back to the Winter Soldier.

"Where are you?" Steve asked as he finished fighting off two Hydra agents.

"Second floor in the computer room. Y/n's badly injured," Sam explained.

"I'm on my way. Try to get her to the Quinjet," Steve said.

"Soldat," you weakly say. The Winter Soldier snapped his head over to your face. "Let him... take me... to get help."

The Winter Soldier watched as your head tilted back, blacking out from the blood loss and your injuries.

"Bucky!" Steve called out as he reached you three in the room. The Winter Soldier looked over at Steve as Sam took the opportunity to fly you back to the Quinjet.

"She'll be okay. Just come with us and you can stay by her side," Steve tells him. The Winter Soldier tilted his head before walking out of the room, pushing Steve aside.

The two met up with the rest of the team as they were ready to go. They got what was needed and they needed to get back to get you healed.

Everyone kept their distance as The Winter Soldier stride over towards you. You were lying down as you were unconscious. They did the best they could to prevent more blood loss.

"Friday. Alert the doctors that we got one injured badly. ETA is an hour," Tony said.

"Doctors alerted."

Once the team got back, The Winter Soldier carried you over to the infirmary. He stood close by as the doctors fixed you up. You lied asleep on the bed while The Winter Soldier never left his spot near you.

Two days later, you woke up. You looked to see that you were in the infirmary in the Avengers Tower. You looked around to see Bucky sitting next to you, watching you intensely.

"Bucky? What time is it?" You groaned a little. The Winter Soldier didn't say anything to you.

"Bucky? Are you okay? I'm fine. The guy just got me off guard," you tell him.

The Winter Soldier continued to stay in silence. You stared at Bucky before noticing Steve by your door. You tried to motion for him to come in but he shook his head. You tilted your head confused before seeing a note he had written.

Code Snow.

Your eyes widen a little. You looked at The Winter Soldier as he stared at you.

"Soldat. I'm okay. I'm healing," you tell him.

"ты пострадал (You got hurt)."

"Soldat. Speak English, please. You know I don't know Russian," you sighed. You only knew three words. Soldier, yes, and no.

"You got hurt."

"I'm okay now. You dealt with the people who hurt me right?"

"да."

"Good. Can I have Bucky now?" You asked.

"нет."

"Why not?" You asked.

"Need to make sure you're okay," he tells you.

"I'm okay now," you assure to him. The Winter Solider shook his head. You let out a sigh, knowing he wouldn't give up anytime soon.

This wasn't the first time Bucky had reverted back to the Winter Soldier. At first he fought everyone. Until you showed up. Then he became more protective. Possessive even.

And during those time, you had to wait it out. And usually, that's when you both would fall asleep. Locked in your room with The Winter Soldier holding you close to him.

Steve and Bruce suggested it was Bucky's feelings towards you that prevented the Winter Soldier from harming you. But Bruce also suggested that the Winter Soldier saw you as his handler given how close he would allow you to get to him.

"Soldat. Let a doctor come in so they can check on me," you tell him. He nodded, allowing you to press the button by your bed. You watched as a doctor walk in and check on your vitals.

"Okay. You are good to go. I highly against going on another mission right now. Let your body rest. No training until I've given the all clear. I'll see you next week for a check up," the doctor told you.

"Thank you."

You changed into some of your leisure clothes before walking out of the recovery room with The Winter Soldier staying close to you. Waiting for someone that dared to touch you.

"Y/n, you okay?" Steve asked, keeping his distance.

"Yeah. I got it covered," you tell him.

"You sure?"

"When has he ever harmed me before?" You asked.

It was true. Throughout the time you met Bucky, he was always gentle with you. Then when you experienced The Winter Soldier first hand, he never touched you. He let you touch his cheek or hold his hand but he would never make the first move.

"We'll stand by if you need us," Steve tells you.

"Will do."

You walked to your room to shower before you ate. The Winter Soldier stayed outside your room as you grabbed your clothes from the closet.

"Soldat. You can come in," you tell him from your closet.

You walked out to see him standing in the middle of your room.

"I'm gonna shower. You can stay by the door in case I need help," you tell him. He gave you a nod before you walked into your bathroom to shower.

The warm shower felt good on your body. But you were more hungry than tired. After showering and changing into some new, fresh clothes you walked out to see The Winter Soldier still standing where you left him.

"Are you hungry? Did you eat?" You asked him.

"нет."

"Come on. Let's eat. You and I both need it," you tell him, gently taking his hand in yours.

You led him to the kitchen where Wanda and Steve were at. They looked over at you and The Winter Soldier as you began to take out some ingredients to make some food. The Winter Soldier stayed nearby you as you began to prep.

"How are you feeling?" Wanda asked.

"I'm fine. I've slept long enough and I am starving," you tell her.

"And Bucky?"

"He'll come back. He always does," you say. "You two want dinner too?"

"I'm good. I already ate," Wanda tells you.

"Same here," Steve said. You nodded in response.

Because you were unconscious for two days, you didn't feel tired. You sat on the rooftop, enjoying the fresh air. What you loved about the Avengers Tower was the view of New York City.

The Winter Soldier stayed nearby, not sitting but standing guard. You looked over at him before reaching your hand out to him.

"Soldat. Come sit with me," you tell him. The Winter Soldier walked over, holding your hand with his right one. He sat in front of you, letting you continue to hold his hand in yours.

"Soldat, can I have Bucky back please?" You asked.

"нет."

"Why not?"

"Because he didn't protect you."

"He protects me well enough. I was just caught by surprise by the ambush," you tell him.

"I have to protect you," The Winter Soldier tells you.

"I'm okay. If anything, I just need to train better," you assure him.

"You need to be protected," The Winter Soldier tells you.

"I can handle myself. As much as I appreciate your protectiveness, I want Bucky back."

"Why? Why have him back when he can't protect you?"

"He can. I want him back because I need him right now," you tell him.

"Need him for what?"

"To tell him that I'm okay. That it wasn't his fault," you explain.

The Winter Soldier stared at you before shaking his head.

"Soldat. I expect him back soon. But for now, just look at the city with me," you tell him as you looked back at the skyline.

"I would never let anyone or anything hurt you," The Winter Soldier tells you. You looked over at him and smiled softly.

"I know you wouldn't. And neither would Bucky," you remind him.

You couldn't sleep until the next night. When you woke up, you felt Bucky's arm wrapped around your waist. You turned around to see Bucky asleep next to you. You gently touch his cheek, making him wake up.

"Bucky?" You asked.

"It's me sweetheart," Bucky assures to you. You kissed him softly, grateful that he was back.

"Are you okay?" You asked him.

"I should be asking you that."

"I'm fine."

"Did he hurt you?"

"He has never hurt me before. There's no difference now," you tell him. Bucky nodded before pressing his forehead against yours. He snuck in another kiss on your lips.

"You need to be more careful," Bucky tells you.

"When I'm cleared, you can train me more," you smiled softly.

"I should let Steve know that I'm okay," Bucky said, getting up. You sat up from your bed.

"Wanna take me to breakfast afterwards?" You asked.

"How can I say no to you?" Bucky asked, walking back over to kiss you.

"I'm gonna get changed then."

"I won't be long. Come rescue me if I am taking too long," Bucky joked.

"My turn to save you," you smiled.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Dog Tags (3)

Summary: Bucky Barnes x fe!Reader -> When a mission goes wrong, Bucky gets his Dog Tags back.

Disclaimer: This is part three for one and two. Mentions of serious injuries, blood and being hospitalised. Angst, bit of fluff here and there, hurt/comfort, Bucky stays by reader's side. Sam giving Bucky his own reality check, platonic!Wanda, swearing. Left kinda open ended in case I decide to write part four? Not Proof Read.

Bucky stared down at the dog tags in his hands, his thumb rubbing back and forth over the blood stained letters. He had to take a deep breath before the tears started flowing again. 

You were meant to be on a simple recon mission. You’d done them a thousand times. Maybe you’d come back with a bruise or two, but you still came back. 

This time, his phone had rung throughout his room just as the clock turned 4:00 am. An agent had found the tags on her person. They knew they weren’t hers, but they were definitely someone’s. 

Bucky had gotten to the hospital in under an hour. You’d still been in surgery by the time he arrived, but the nurses had brought out your personal belongings in a large plastic bag. 

Your clothes; blood stained to hell. Your Shield issued weapons were empty of bullets. Whatever had happened, you’d emptied your clip, plus your three backups. Your knife lay at the bottom of the bag, stained with blood, too. 

Bucky couldn’t work out if it was yours or someone else's. But he did know one thing for certain. The blood that lay splattered over his tags, as he pulled the chain from the bag, was yours. You never wore them outside of your uniform. You kept them close to your chest. It couldn’t be anyone else's. 

Bucky had left a message at Hill’s desk, as well with Sam explaining what had happened. What he knew, at least. Hill was sending someone to the mission base to find out more. 

“Mr Barnes?”

Bucky took in a deep breath as he stood up, clasping the tags in his palm. Maybe if he squeezed tightly enough, he’d be able to feel you. 

“Yes.”

“Your wife is now out of surgery. We’ll be keeping her under observation for the foreseeable, but once she’s situated in a room, you’ll be able to sit with her.” The Doctor told him. 

Bucky just nodded. “Do you know what happened?”

“I know it’s not common, but I’ll bring you her more detailed medical chart.” They told him. “There was too much extensive damage to talk about off the top of my head.”

Those words hit Bucky in the chest, harder than anything else had ever done. 

“But she’ll-” Bucky couldn’t bring himself to talk. 

The Doctor just nodded. “She’s going to need a lot of physical therapy. Thankfully nothing broke within her legs, but the damage to her muscles will make her training a lot harder than it should be for a while.”

Bucky nodded. 

“But she’ll be okay.”

“Thank you.”

The Doctor nodded. “Thank you for the tags.”

Bucky was a little confused as he followed the doctor’s finger, pointing to his hand. The dog tags? Why was she thanking him for the dog tags?

“If your wife hadn’t been wearing them, we wouldn’t have known who to contact.”

Wife.

Bucky felt himself chuckle inside. If you were awake and could hear the doctor now, you’d have probably made some disgusted eye roll and comment over being even associated with him. 

“Oh, yeah.”

The Doctor smiled. “I’ll come and get you when she’s ready.”

“Thank you.”

She just nodded with another soft smile before walking away. Twenty minutes later, he was being walked down the hallway where he stood outside of your room for ten minutes before opening up the door. 

You had at least a dozen wires hooked up to you, aside from the standard hospital gear. Bucky just stared at the monitor for a while, watching your heartbeat print onto paper. 

Eventually, he sat in the chair beside your bed and looked at you. In that moment, he’d give anything to have you yell at him. Cuss him out, threaten him, roll your eyes…anything. 

“They…” Bucky cleared his throat, looking down at the tags in his hand. “They told me you should still be able to hear me…and that talking helps. I know you’re probably mad it’s me who’s here, but you can’t blame me for this one, doll.” 

A weak chuckle escaped Bucky’s lips as he looked from his hand and to your sleeping frame. “They think we’re married, by the way. Mostly because of the dog tags they found on you. I’ve…I’ve got em’ right here. They’re safe. You’re safe, doll. Just…just kinda need you to wake up soon. Maybe tell me to piss off. Not that I’d leave you anyway, but that’s kinda our thing, right? Fighting?”

Bucky went silent for a while as he looked at you. 

“I need you to fight me, sweetheart.” Bucky told you. “So you’ve gotta mend and pull through all of this. Whatever happened out there in the field…that’s not the end of your story. It can’t be. I won’t let it.”

Bucky could hear your voice in his head. “You’d don’t have a choice in it, Barnes.”. 

Bucky told you a few more things, like how he’d called both Hill and Sam. He told you that he’d text Wanda, “She’ll get it once she lands. I’m sure she’ll be flying through that window soon.”

But, eventually, he stopped talking. He just let the sound of your steady heart fill the room. It was proof you were still alive. You were still here. 

On the days where Bucky couldn’t sit with you, Wanda took his place. Or Kate. Or Sam. On the odd occasion, Joaquin sat with you. Bucky had walked in on plenty of PowerPoint presentations of how his suit was better than Sam’s old one. 

But when he did sit with you, his mind would wander to memories of you and him. Like the training room when he’d told you he knew you had his dog tags, or when he’d helped you when you got hurt a few months back. 

But one stuck out to him in particular. Plenty stuck out to him as time ticked by, but he was reminded of this one as he looked at the side table beside your bed. Your knife lay on top, still in its protective covering. 

Less than three weeks before you’d landed in hospital, Bucky had been training with you. 

The main noises being made were grunts. As you hit his chest, as he knocked your legs down, as you twisted his arm, as he flipped you onto the mat, as you kicked his legs from beneath him, as you both rolled across the mats before you landed on top, trapping him in place. 

“Give in yet?”

“Do you?”

You were about to question what he meant, but then you felt it. Cold and sharp; he had your knife, again. But this time, it was pointed against your side. 

“What?” You hesitated for a second and looked away. Bucky took his opportunity. 

In two simple moves, you were on your back staring up at him with your own knife gently pressed against your skin. 

“Give in.”

You groaned and rolled your eyes at his glowing smirk. “Yes. Fine. Now get off me.” 

Bucky chuckled and stood up, lowering his hand down to help you up. At first, you swatted it away. But he held it out again, “Come on.”

Reluctantly, you accepted it and he helped you stand. “You’re focusing too much. Too in your head. You need to relax.” 

Bucky flipped the knife over in his hand so he was pinching the sharp blade. He handed it over to you and you swiped it up. “Thanks.” Your voice grunted a little before you placed your knife back in its place. 

“You know, if you wanted to, you could train with me more often.” Bucky offered as he walked away. “I know you and I are…whatever we are. But I have training that isn’t exactly found in a Shield manual.”

“I’m fine.” You said, avoiding looking at him as he stood with his back to you. You had stared at him in this fashion one too many times. It was only a short time before someone caught you doing so. Even worse if it was Bucky. 

“It’s not an issue. Hell, we don’t have to even talk-”

“I said I’m fine.” You didn’t mean to raise your voice when you spoke to him. You regretted it instantly. You sighed. “Look, I know you mean well. And, thank you. But I’m okay.”

Bucky watched you, over his shoulder. You walked away from the mats, grabbed your water bottle and sat down on one of the opposite benches. 

“What is it?” 

“What?”

“Do you have a problem with me or something?”

You sighed. “Bucky.”

“I get you and I don’t exactly get along-”

“I don’t have a problem with you,” you cut him off. “I just-” 

You gave a short sigh. There were so many reasons why it wouldn’t work if he was the one to train you. He wouldn’t know it, but you’d become more distracted by him. And for some reason it was written into the heavens that if you and Bucky spent more than ten minutes alone together, things in the air started to get…close. Too close. 

But the main thing was your undisclosed feelings for the super annoying, massive pain in your ass, super soldier. The longer you spent around him, so close to him, the harder they were getting to manage. 

It was only a matter of time before he figured out the truth. 

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea. Can we just leave it at that? Please?”

Bucky watched you for a moment before nodding. “Okay. Forget I ever mentioned it.”

You just nodded. 

Later that evening, Bucky had been with Wanda. And he’d been avoiding the topic of you ever since he walked through the front door. 

“Did something happen between you two?” Wanda just flat out asked him. 

“No. Nothing happened.”

“You’re sulking, so I know something happened.”

Bucky shrugged. “She just doesn’t want my help. I’ve tried being nice. But she’s just so…her. It’s annoying.”

Wanda nodded. “Yeah, I’m gonna need more information than just…you not handling your school boy crush very well.”

“I don’t-” Bucky shut his mouth as he whipped his head around to look at Wanda. “I don’t like her like that.”

“Doesn’t like who?” Sam asked as he walked through the door. 

“Bucky. Not liking Y/n.”

Sam just barked a laugh as he opened up the fridge and put his groceries away. “Ha! That’s a bullshit lie if I’ve ever heard one.”

“What-”

“Bucky,” Sam was practically laughing. “You’ve had a crush on her for god knows how long. I don’t know what twisted bullshit you both have going on that prevents you from talking like normal human beings, but even I know you saying you don’t like Y/n is nothing but a complete and utter bullshit lie.”

Bucky looked at Wanda for backup but she seemed to be on Sam’s side. 

“You know, maybe if you…I don’t know…talked to her rather than fight her-”

“She fights me!”

Sam just looked at him. “You fight each other.”

“Maybe you should just try and talk to her,” Wanda told him. “Might just clear a few things up.”

Sam sat down on the arm of the chair. “You’ve had feelings for her for a long time, Buck. Maybe it’s time you did something about it.”

Bucky just sighed. 

“How long have you guys been married?”

Bucky hadn’t noticed the nurse walk inside to your hospital room, at first. “Sorry?”

“I’m sorry to ask,” she apologised as she changed out your IV and drew some blood. “It’s just…I’ve seen a lot of couples pass through these doors and I’m yet to see ones with a connection like yours.”

Bucky sat up. The nurse could read the confusion on his face from a mile away. 

She just stepped to the side and pointed at the print of the heart rate. 

“See these spikes here?” 

Bucky nodded. 

“These are from when you’ve been with her. It’s good they’re going up. It means she’s recognising her surroundings. At the very least, the people in it. You’re healing for her.”

Bucky just looked at your still sleeping frame. He was helping you heal?

He was helping you heal?

He was helping you heal?

He was helping you heal?

The nurse smiled again. “How long have you two been married?”

“Not long,” Bucky answered. “But we’ve…we’ve known each other for years.”

The nurse smiled. “Who made the first move?”

Bucky thought for a moment. “She did. She saved my life.”

And you had. 

You’d been one of the new agents placed with the team. In the middle of a forest, Bucky had noticed every tripwire save for one. As something came flying over head, you’d swiped his legs from underneath him and pinned him down. 

“You’re welcome,” you whispered. 

That had been the first time Bucky had met you. It had also been the first time he’d looked you in the eyes. He could have happily drowned there and then. Which scared him. More than he knew what to deal with. 

“And now you’re here saving hers,” the nurse smiled. “I’ll be back in about an hour. Is there anything I can get you? Blankets, pillows?”

Bucky shook his head. “No, I’m okay. Thank you.”

“She’ll be okay, Mr Barnes.”

Bucky just nodded and watched as the nurse left. As he turned his head, that was when he noticed your chart. They still kept you as Y/n Barnes. Nobody, including Bucky, had bothered to correct them. If anything, it meant Bucky still learnt about your injuries and your healing process. 

It also meant he got access to stay with you for as long as he wanted. Which, if he didn’t have to work and if Sam didn’t come and drag him outside every few hours, he’d stay the whole time. 

It was a month or so more before you finally woke up. 

When Bucky had gotten a text from Joaquin telling him to get to the hospital quickly, he’d dropped what he was doing and came running down the hallway of the hospital ten minutes later. 

“What’s happening?”

“I-I don’t know.” Joaquin told him. “I was just holding her hand and she moved. Like, she squeezed my hand.”

“What?” Bucky moved past Joaquin and to your side, leaning his hand on the side headboard. 

“Y/n? Hey, doll? Can you hear me?”

Bucky held your hand in his. Nothing happened. “I know you don’t like me all that much, but if you can hear me, can you try and squeeze my hand?” 

Again, nothing.

Bucky looked at Joaquin. 

“I didn’t dream it.”

Bucky looked back at you. For a split second, he pushed some of your hair from your face. “Doll, if you’re awake, please. I just need you to squeeze my hand.”

Again, nothing. 

Until there was something.

“Go and get a nurse.”

“On it!” Joaquin practically flew out of the room. 

It all happened in a matter of seconds. Joaquin had been talking to you, telling you that you were gonna be okay. Then you heard Bucky’s voice which was quickly followed by a rough hand gently holding onto yours. 

And when you finally opened your eyes, you saw him. Standing beside your bed, holding your hand, looking like the world had finally started moving again. 

It was a few hours before you came around properly. And when you did, it felt a lot less hectic. Everything was peaceful and quiet. You had time to look around. There was a steady beeping somewhere. 

A heart monitor. 

You had different wires and tubes sticking out of you. The lights weren’t as bright as they’d been when you’d first woken up. 

But the thing that caught your eye the most was the sleeping frame of Bucky, hunched over your bed. Then you felt it. His hand, still in yours. 

You tried to squeeze his hand but eventually it hurt a little less and he stirred awake before shooting up. 

“Hey, you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

“How long have I been out?”

Bucky answered you honestly. “Almost two months. The damage was extensive. Can you remember anything?”

You just nodded. “I think I blacked out after the building collapsed because I don’t remember anything after that.”

Bucky stood and pressed a button on the headboard of your bed before sitting beside you, clasping your hand in his. If it had been any other time, you would have taken your hand right back. 

But in that moment you needed comfort. You needed to feel safe. 

You felt safe with Bucky. 

But then you gasped. “Shit.”

“What? Are you hurt? What is it?”

You sat up and touched your chest and neck. “Your- your tags. I-”

Bucky just pulled the chain from his shirt. “There’s right here.”

You visibly relaxed but then you tensed as you watched Bucky remove them. “What are you doing?”

A small chuckle left him, “Just stay still, would you?”

“It’s not like I can exactly run away right now.”

Bucky smiled to himself before lifting the chain up and over your head. “There.”

You looked at him, wondering what he meant by all of it. “They’re your tags, Bucky.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “But I know they’re safe with you. They always looked better on you, anyway.”

Once Bucky knew you were okay, he’d wiped the rest of the tags clean. He’d been waiting to lay them back on you. He didn’t want to do it while you were sleeping. He needed you to fight him first. 

He needed proof you were alive. 

That was when the door opened and a nurse walked inside. “You’re awake! I must say, you nearly gave me and your husband a fright earlier. The doctor hadn’t predicted that you would wake up this early.”

You looked at Bucky and whispered, “Husband?”

“Just go with it,” he whispered back. 

It wasn’t until an hour or so, when both the Doctor and nurse had left, that you spoke to Bucky again. 

“You wanna tell me why we’re married?”

“They found my tags with you. They called me and…”

“You never corrected them?” You’d asked that question a lot calmer than Bucky had been expecting. 

“It meant I got to stay with you longer. And that they’d tell me what was going on.”

“You didn’t need to do that, Bucky.”

Bucky was honest with you. “I’m glad they called me first.”

You hand clutched the tags dangling from your neck. “They really thought you were my husband?”

Bucky chuckled. “If anything, the tags made sure you came home.”

In the silence as you and Bucky looked at each other, you felt the coolness of the metal in your palm. His tags had brought you home. His tags had brought him to you. His dog tags made sure you weren’t alone. And something told you Bucky had the same idea. 

Which was only confirmed when he attended almost every physio appointment with you. 

“How’s she doing, doc?”

The physio smiled as they held their arms up, in case you fell. “She’s doing great.”

“She’s tired and pissed off.” You answered truthfully. 

“If it makes you feel any better, I brought your favourite snacks from that store you and Kate found.”

Your hand gripped the two parallel bars as you slowly walked from one side to the other. “How the hell do you know about that store?”

“I asked Kate. She told me.”

As the phyio’s pager went off, Bucky offered to take over for a few minutes to help you. And, considering the medical staff still believed you and Bucky to be married, you’d both decided to just keep the act up. 

So, slowly walking beside you in case you fell, Bucky helped you turn around and walk back down the parallel bars. 

“How’ve you been feeling?”

“You mean other than tired and pissed off?”

“Yeah.”

“Sore,” you admitted. “Bored. I can’t wait to get back home.”

If Bucky was being honest, he would say the same thing. Even if you did spend more time fighting each other, he missed it. He missed you. 

“Neither can I.” The honesty slipped out from Bucky before he could think about any awkward consequences. 

You paused and looked at him. “What?” Your voice was a little softer than usual. 

“What?” Bucky shrugged. He’d said it. There was no taking it back. “It’s boring without you. I get we might fight the whole time, but without you I’ve got no one to keep my ego in check.”

Bucky earned a laugh from you as you looked away to keep walking. And he laughed, too. 

You had to admit. Laughing with Bucky rather than groaning was a nice change. 

And it only got easier from there on out. Your groans had turned to laughter, your scowls had turned to smiles and the roll of your eyes had turned to tears of laughter. 

And slowly, the same things happened for Bucky, too.

Eventually, the ten minute window you and Bucky spent together turned into twenty, then forty and before either of you knew it, hours had passed. 

You were both together and, surprisingly, still alive. 

Part Four

[satellite-evans]

best friends

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Lando becomes best friends with your daughter after taking care of her when she's sick <3

Word count: 4.6k+

Warnings: fluff

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

It was one of those rainy mornings when everything seemed to move in slow motion. The sky was a dull shade of gray, and raindrops trickled down the windowpane, blurring the outside world into a watercolor painting. The sound of distant thunder rolled through the air, a reminder that the storm had settled in for the day.

You stood in your living room, fingers wrapped around a warm cup of coffee, the steam curling up into the air like a ghost of comfort. The aroma was rich, but the exhaustion clinging to your bones made it hard to appreciate. You took a slow sip, hoping the caffeine would work some magic, but the fatigue from the sleepless night refused to loosen its grip.

On the couch, your four-year-old daughter, Sophie, was curled up beneath a thick blanket, her tiny form barely stirring. Her usually bright, mischievous eyes were shut tight, her breathing soft but uneven. Her cheeks were flushed with fever, her little hands gripping the edge of the blanket like it was the only thing tethering her to comfort.

You exhaled, rubbing a hand over your face. The night had been long—hours spent checking her temperature, pressing cool cloths to her forehead, whispering reassurances into the dark. She had tossed and turned, whimpering in her sleep, too warm, too restless, too sick to find peace. And now, in the quiet of the morning, you were running on fumes, your body heavy with exhaustion, but there was no choice.

You couldn’t call in sick. Not again.

Your boss had been understanding the last time, but you knew there was only so much flexibility they could offer. And as much as you hated it, bills didn’t pause for feverish nights or exhausted single mothers. You had to push through. That’s what you always did.

Your gaze flickered to the clock. Less than an hour before your meeting.

Your stomach tightened as reality settled in—there was no way you could leave Sophie alone, not like this. The thought of walking out that door while she lay there, weak and vulnerable, made your chest ache with guilt. But what choice did you have?

You chewed your lip, fingers tightening around your phone. There was one person who might be able to help. Someone you weren’t sure you could ask yet.

Lando.

Your relationship was still new, fresh enough that you hesitated before burdening him with something this big. But he had always been kind, always made you feel like you weren’t alone in this, even when you were too scared to believe it. And right now, you needed help.

You took a breath and started typing.

Hey, Lando… Sophie is really sick today, and I have to go to work. I know this might be a lot, but… I don’t know who else to ask. Would you be able to help out for a bit? xxx

Your thumb hovered over the send button for a second, doubt creeping in. Was this too much? Would he feel obligated? Would this change things between you?

But there was no time to second-guess. You pressed send.

The seconds stretched unbearably as you waited for his response. You took another sip of coffee, your throat tight, your mind racing through backup plans—plans you didn’t have. Your gaze drifted back to Sophie, her small frame so fragile, her body lost in the folds of the blanket. She needed you. But she also needed the roof over her head, the food on her plate, the security you worked so hard to provide.

Then, finally, the ping of a message.

Your heart jumped as you unlocked your phone, your breath catching as you read his reply.

Don’t worry, I got you! I’ll take care of her. You’ve got nothing to stress about. I’ll be there in 10 minutes xxx

You let out a sigh of relief, but a small knot still formed in your stomach. The idea of leaving Sophie in someone else’s care, especially someone as new to your life as Lando, felt a little strange. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him—you did. He had always been kind, patient, and effortlessly good with people. But Sophie wasn’t just anyone. She was your whole world, and handing over even a sliver of responsibility for her well-being wasn’t easy.

Still, you had no choice.

Not long after, a soft knock at the door broke through your anxious thoughts. You took a deep breath before opening it, finding Lando standing there, a concerned but reassuring smile on his face. He looked effortlessly casual in a hoodie and sweats, hands tucked into his pockets as if this was just another normal day.

“Hey,” he greeted, stepping inside. “How’s our little patient doing?”

You led him into the living room, where Sophie woke up and was curled up on the couch, watching TV with tired, glassy eyes. Although she was awake, she barely moved, fully focused on what was happening indient of her. The moment she saw Lando, she peeked up at him before quickly hiding her face in the folds of fabric, too shy to say anything.

You sighed, kneeling beside her and brushing her hair back gently. Her forehead was still too warm beneath your touch. “She’s still really warm,” you murmured, more to yourself than anyone else. Then, turning back to Lando, you handed him a small notepad filled with your rushed, yet meticulous, handwriting. “I wrote down everything you need to know.”

Lando took the notepad, his eyes scanning over it with careful focus as you continued.

“Her medicine is here—one dose every six hours. She won’t eat much when she’s sick, but she loves toast with honey and banana slices or the tomato soup in the fridge. She also only drinks apple juice or water, but try to get her to drink more water.”

Lando nodded, already taking mental notes. “Got it. Medicine, toast with honey and bananas, apple juice, and lots of water.”

You glanced down at Sophie, who remained silent but was clearly listening. “She likes Peppa Pig, but her favorite is Bluey,” you added, lowering your voice like it was a secret just for him.

At that, Lando chuckled. “Ah, a kid with taste. Oscar loves it too. Bluey it is.”

You smiled, appreciating how quickly he was absorbing everything. “She’s really shy at first, but once she warms up, she won’t stop talking.”

He grinned. “Challenge accepted.”

Your expression softened. “She also hates loud noises when she’s sick, so keep things quiet.” You hesitated before adding, “And… just call me if anything happens. Anything at all.”

“I will,” he assured you, his voice steady and certain. “You don’t have to worry. We’re going to be just fine.”

You wanted to believe that, and maybe you did, but leaving still felt wrong.

You turned back to Sophie, kneeling beside her once more. Her tiny frame barely shifted beneath the blanket, but when you smoothed her hair away from her face, she blinked up at you, her watery eyes full of unspoken words.

“I’ll be back soon, sweetheart,” you promised, pressing a gentle kiss to her warm forehead. “Be good for Lando, okay?”

Sophie’s lower lip trembled, and she clutched the blanket tighter. “I want you to stay,” she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath.

Your heart clenched painfully. You stroked her cheek, trying to fight the wave of guilt rising in your chest. “I know, baby,” you murmured. “I know. But I have to go to work, okay? Lando’s going to stay with you. He’s really nice, remember?”

She didn’t answer right away, her little fingers playing with the edge of the blanket. Then, slowly, she gave a tiny nod. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

Lando crouched beside you, keeping his voice soft and light. “You know, Sophie, I was actually thinking I could use some help today.”

Sophie peeked at him through her lashes, wary but curious.

“You see,” he continued, as if sharing an important secret, “I don’t know the first thing about Bluey. And I heard you’re the expert. Think you can teach me?”

For a moment, there was nothing. But then, finally, Sophie nodded again, just a fraction more certain this time.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

Giving her one last kiss on the forehead, you stood, grabbing your bag and coat. Before heading out the door, you turned to Lando one last time, meeting his gaze with quiet gratitude.

“Thank you,” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion.

His smile was warm, unwavering. “Anytime.”

For the first hour, Sophie was quiet, keeping her distance on the couch while Lando sat nearby. He didn’t push her to talk, didn’t try to force a connection—he simply sat beside her, arms resting casually on his knees, watching Bluey with an easy, relaxed expression.

The sound coming from the TV filled the quiet space between them, the rain outside creating a gentle rhythm against the windows. Every so often, he could feel her eyes on him—brief, cautious glances before she quickly looked away, burying herself deeper into her blanket.

Lando pretended not to notice at first, letting her come to him in her own time. But when he caught another quick peek out of the corner of his eye, he finally spoke, keeping his voice light and playful.

“You know,” he mused, as if sharing a secret, “I have a friend named Bluey.”

Sophie blinked at him, intrigued but skeptical. “You do?” she asked softly, her voice raspy from sleep.

“Yup,” he nodded, a grin tugging at his lips. “She’s blue, just like this Bluey, but she’s actually a little stuffed toy my friend keeps in his car for good luck.”

Sophie’s lips twitched, and then, to Lando’s delight, she giggled—a quiet, sleepy little laugh, but still, a laugh.

“That’s funny,” she murmured, curling further into the blanket.

Lando grinned, feeling the tension between them start to melt away.

A little while later, when Sophie’s tummy let out a small grumble, he took it as his cue.

“Sounds like someone’s ready for a snack,” he teased, standing up and stretching dramatically.

Sophie hesitated before nodding. “Toast,” she mumbled, rubbing at her tired eyes.

“Coming right up, ma’am,” Lando said with a playful salute, making her giggle again.

He moved into the kitchen, following the notes you had left. He spread a thin layer of honey over the warm toast, slicing up a banana just the way you had instructed. As he placed the plate in front of Sophie, he watched with amusement as she immediately picked at the crust first, nibbling at the edges before moving onto the softer center.

He tilted his head, noticing how familiar the habit seemed. Then it hit him.

“You eat your toast like your mommy does,” he remarked casually.

Sophie paused mid-bite, eyes flicking up to him in surprise. “Like mommy?”

Lando nodded. “Yup. First time I saw her do it, I thought maybe she was just being fancy. But now I know—it’s a family thing.”

Sophie seemed to like that answer because she grinned before taking another bite.

A few moments later, she pouted slightly as honey dripped onto her fingers. Lando reached for a wet napkin, handing it to her with an amused smirk.

“Sticky fingers, huh?” he teased.

She nodded solemnly, wiping her hands with small, deliberate movements. “Mommy doesn’t like sticky fingers either.”

Lando chuckled, leaning back into the couch. “You and your mommy are a lot alike, you know?”

At that, Sophie smiled—really smiled this time—and it was the kind of smile that made Lando’s chest feel unexpectedly full. She looked at him for a moment, her tiny body finally relaxing as if she had decided he was safe. Then, with a small yawn, she snuggled deeper into the blanket, inching closer to his side.

Just as her eyelids started to droop, she mumbled sleepily, “Mommy says you has pretty eyes.”

Lando’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, a slow smirk creeping onto his face. “Oh, really?”

Sophie nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “She told her best friend, Louisa. She said they’re ‘so dreamy.’”

Lando chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “Did she now?”

Sophie made a soft noise of agreement, already half-asleep. “She likes you.”

Lando’s heart swelled at her innocent words, warmth spreading through him in a way he hadn’t expected. He glanced down at her peaceful face, looking exactly like you.

Gently, he brushed a stray curl from her forehead and whispered, “I like her too.”

As the day stretched on, Sophie’s initial shyness melted away, replaced by giggles and small moments of trust.

At first, she was cautious—watching Lando out of the corner of her eye as he sat on the floor beside her tiny play area. But with patience and gentle encouragement, he managed to pull her into small activities. They built a pillow fort in the living room, carefully stacking cushions and draping a blanket overhead to create a cozy hideout.

“This is the best castle ever,” Lando announced dramatically, lying on his back inside their creation. “I think we should declare this as The Kingdom of Sophie.”

Sophie giggled, adjusting the stuffed animals she had lined up as “guards” at the fort’s entrance. “And you can be the knight,” she declared.

Lando gasped, clutching his chest. “Me? A knight? That’s a huge responsibility.” He leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper. “Do I get a sword?”

Sophie considered this very seriously before nodding. “But only a soft sword,” she said, picking up a plush toy and handing it to him. “No hitting, just protecting.”

Lando chuckled, accepting the stuffed animal with a solemn nod. “I will guard this kingdom with my life.”

After their castle adventures, Sophie pulled out her collection of books, choosing her favorites and snuggling into Lando’s side as he read to her. She listened intently, her little fingers playing with the hem of his hoodie while he brought each story to life with silly voices and exaggerated expressions.

“You’re funny,” she told him at one point, peeking up at him with a sleepy smile.

“I try to be,” Lando admitted. “But between you and me, I think you’re the funniest one here.”

She giggled again, clearly pleased.

Later in the afternoon, when her energy dipped, they settled at the coffee table for a quiet coloring session. Lando grabbed a handful of crayons while Sophie carefully worked on her masterpiece.

“What are you drawing?” he asked, peering over her shoulder.

Sophie held up the paper proudly, revealing a childlike drawing of three stick figures. One was clearly her, with curly scribbles for hair, another was you, and the last one—labeled “Lando” in wobbly letters—stood right beside you.

Lando’s heart clenched in the best way possible. “Wow,” he said, genuinely touched. “This might be the best drawing I’ve ever seen.”

Sophie beamed. “It’s Mommy and you! And me!”

“I love it,” he told her, nudging her playfully. “You’re a real artist, Soph.”

After a fun-filled afternoon of pillow forts, storybooks, and coloring, Lando noticed Sophie beginning to slow down. Her energy had dipped significantly, her tiny body slumping against the couch as she blinked sluggishly at the TV.

He frowned, reaching out to feel her forehead the way he had seen you do earlier. The warmth against his palm made his stomach twist uncomfortably—she was still running a fever.

“Alright, kiddo,” he murmured, brushing a stray curl away from her face. “Time for a little check-up.”

Sophie groaned, her response muffled by the blanket she had pulled up over her nose. “Noooo.”

Lando chuckled. “Come on, your mom left me very strict instructions to make sure you’re feeling okay. I don’t mess around when it comes to doctor duties.”

Sophie peeked out, her cheeks flushed from the fever. “Are you a real doctor?”

Lando gasped dramatically. “Excuse me? I’ll have you know I am Dr. Lando, and I am very serious about my job.” He reached for the thermometer you had left on the coffee table. “Now, open up, little miss.”

She pouted but obeyed, letting him slip the thermometer under her tongue. Lando sat patiently, watching the numbers climb before it beeped. He pulled it out, checking the screen.

“Not bad, but still warm, Soph,” he murmured, concern flickering in his eyes.

Sophie just hummed sleepily, curling further into her blanket.

Lando glanced at the notepad of instructions you had left, then back at her. “Alright, first order of business—water. Your mom said you have to drink some, and I’d rather not get fired on my first day as a babysitter.”

Sophie groaned but didn’t argue when he grabbed her little cup of water and held it out to her.

“Just a few sips, okay?” he coaxed. “I’ll even let you have a super exclusive VIP sip while sitting in the fort.”

That got her attention. She let out a weak giggle before reaching for the cup with small, clumsy fingers. Lando helped guide it to her lips, watching as she took a few tiny sips before wrinkling her nose.

“Bleh,” she mumbled.

Lando smirked. “Not a water fan, huh?”

She shook her head, but Lando tapped the cup gently. “I get it, but we gotta make sure you don’t turn into a little raisin.”

Sophie giggled at that, taking one more sip before handing the cup back.

“Good job, kiddo,” he praised.

Next came the medicine, which was a slightly tougher battle.

“Noooo,” Sophie whined, pulling the blanket over her head when she saw Lando grabbing the small bottle.

Lando sighed, shaking his head. “C’mon, Soph. Your mom told me you have to take this.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Okay, what if I take some too?” Lando bargained.

Sophie peeked out, squinting at him. “You don’t have a fever.”

“Yeah, but I feel like I could be getting one,” he said with mock seriousness. “Better to be safe, right?”

She stared at him for a moment, considering his words. “…Okay.”

Lando grinned in victory and poured the correct dose into the little plastic cup. He handed it to her, watching as she took it hesitantly before scrunching her face at the taste.

“Bleh,” she groaned again.

“Yeah, medicine’s the worst,” Lando agreed, setting the cup aside. “But you’re a champ.”

Satisfied that he had followed your instructions, he helped tuck her back into the couch, adjusting the blanket so she was snug and warm.

He sat beside her, ruffling her curls lightly. “Feeling any better?”

Sophie hummed, rubbing her eyes sleepily. “A little.”

“That’s good,” he murmured, watching as she yawned and curled closer to him. He reached for the remote, lowering the TV volume. “Alright, you just rest now, okay? I got you.”

Sophie peeked up at him, blinking slowly, her eyelids heavy with sleep. “Mommy was right,” she whispered, her voice thick with drowsiness.

Lando tilted his head, raising an eyebrow as he tried to hide a small smile. “About what?” he asked softly, not wanting to disturb the peaceful moment.

She yawned again, her tiny body curling further into the warmth of the blanket. “You’re nice,” she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. “And you’re officially my new best friend.”

A warmth spread through Lando's chest, more than just the gentle feeling of Sophie’s innocent words. He smiled to himself, his fingers brushing a stray curl from her forehead as he whispered, “That’s an honor, kiddo. You’re my new best friend too.” His voice was so soft, so sincere, and Sophie’s breathing soon evened out, signaling that she was finally drifting into a peaceful sleep.

Lando stayed where he was, right by her side. The room was quiet, save for the soft sound of Sophie’s breathing. He glanced around the room, ensuring she was comfortable—making sure the blanket was tucked just right, keeping the environment as calm and secure as possible. He knew how much you’d want this—how much you’d want her to feel safe and loved.

And just as you walked through the door, everything around you seemed still, frozen in a sense of calm that made your heart swell in a way that took you by surprise. The living room was serene. The TV played softly in the background, a nature documentary flickering in the corner, but all your attention was drawn to the sight before you. There, curled up against Lando’s side, was Sophie—utterly content, her tiny hand resting trustingly on his arm. The sight was simple but perfect. She had found comfort in Lando's presence, just like she always found in yours.

You stopped in the doorway for a long moment, frozen by the unexpected tenderness of the scene. Lando moved with such deliberate care, adjusting the blanket around Sophie’s shoulders. He tucked it in gently, making sure she was warm and settled in, completely unaware of how much it all made your heart swell.

It was a moment of quiet beauty, and you couldn’t help but feel a soft rush of emotion rise in your chest.

Lando caught the sound of your footsteps and looked up. His lips curved into a quiet smile, one that spoke volumes without needing words. “Hey,” he whispered, careful not to disturb Sophie. “She did great today.”

You set down your bag, your voice warm with admiration. “Looks like you did too.” Your gaze softened as you looked at them, the scene too peaceful not to melt your heart.

Sophie stirred, the gentle sound of your voice pulling her from the last remnants of sleep. Her eyelids fluttered open, and she blinked a few times before her tired gaze landed on you. Her little voice was still thick with sleep when she murmured, “Mommy…”

You knelt down beside her, brushing a few stray curls from her forehead. “Hey, sweetheart. Did you have a good nap?” you asked softly, your heart full.

Sophie stretched slightly, but stayed nestled against Lando, unwilling to leave the safety of his side. Her eyes were still heavy with sleep as she spoke again, her words slow and deliberate. “Lando’s funny,” she said with a yawn. “And he said Bluey is his friend.”

You chuckled softly, amused by her observations. “Did he take good care of you?” you asked, a teasing smile tugging at your lips.

Sophie nodded, rubbing her eyes sleepily. “Mhm,” she murmured, her voice drowsy but content. “And…” She paused, clearly considering her next words carefully, before her face shifted into a mischievous little smile. “He has dreamy eyes. Just like you said.”

Your whole body locked up, the blood rushing to your cheeks in an instant. Your heart skipped, and your mouth went dry. Your mind raced as you scrambled for a response, but no words came out. Instead, you opened your mouth—then closed it—before finally opening it again, only to find yourself completely lost for words.

Lando, on the other hand, had zero plans of letting this moment pass without teasing you mercilessly.

His smirk spread slowly, his eyes glinting with amusement as he turned to you. “So… dreamy, huh?” he teased, his voice low and full of mischief.

You groaned, immediately burying your face in your hands. “Oh my God, Sophie,” you whined, your voice muffled by your palms. “I’m never speaking in front of her again.”

Lando chuckled, clearly enjoying every second of your embarrassment. “No, no,” he teased, “don’t stop now. I’m very interested in this topic.” His voice was playful, but there was a warmth in it that made you feel as though he wasn't teasing in a hurtful way—just in a way that made everything feel even more genuine.

You shot him a playful glare, your cheeks still burning with heat. “I hate you,” you muttered, but the words came out softer than intended.

Lando reached over and gently took your hand in his, his fingers squeezing yours. The teasing smile faded into something warmer, something more sincere. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, his voice low and tender. “I think it’s adorable.”

You exhaled, still flustered but unable to stop the smile that tugged at the corners of your mouth. It was impossible not to feel a little bit lighter with him beside you.

Lando lifted your hand and pressed a soft, playful kiss to your knuckles. “And just so you know,” he added, his voice dropping to a playful whisper, “I think your eyes are pretty dreamy too.”

Eventually, as much as you secretly didn’t want him to, Lando had to go. It was already getting late, and though Sophie had been asleep earlier, she was now awake and clinging to his hoodie with surprising strength for a four-year-old.

“Nooo,” she whined, her lower lip jutting out in the most dramatic pout. “Don’t go, stay.”

Lando smiled gently, crouching down to her level. “Hey, I’ll come back, okay? I promise.”

Sophie crossed her arms, her little face scrunching up in stubborn defiance. “Pinkie promise?”

Lando grinned, holding out his pinkie. “The strongest pinkie promise ever.”

She eyed him for a moment before looping her tiny pinkie around his. “You have to come back soon.”

“I will,” he assured her. “And next time, we’ll build an even bigger pillow fort.”

Sophie gasped as if that was the greatest thing she had ever heard. “With lights?”

Lando chuckled. “With lights. And a secret entrance. And maybe even some snacks.”

Sophie giggled, finally releasing his hoodie. “Okay… but don’t take too long.”

Lando ruffled her curls. “Deal.”

Sophie then turned to you and grabbed your hand. “Come, Mommy. You have to walk him to the door.”

Lando arched a brow, clearly amused. “Oh, do I get an escort?”

Sophie nodded seriously. “Mommy has to say goodbye properly.”

Your cheeks warmed again, but you didn’t argue, letting Sophie lead the way as the three of you walked to the door.

When you reached it, Sophie turned to Lando. “Bye-bye, Lando.”

He smiled, bending down to give her a quick hug. “Bye, kiddo. Sleep tight, okay?”

Sophie nodded before stepping back, watching intently as if she was expecting something.

Lando turned to you, his expression softening. “Thanks for trusting me with her today.”

You exhaled, offering him a small, genuine smile. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

Lando took a small step closer, tilting his head slightly. “Anytime.”

For a moment, you both just stood there, caught in the quiet, comfortable tension between you.

And then, before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned up and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his cheek.

Lando froze for half a second, his breath hitching ever so slightly—but when you pulled back, his lips stretched into the slowest, most heart-melting smile you had ever seen.

“Was that a thank-you?” he teased, though his voice was lower, warmer.

You laughed softly. “Maybe.”

His eyes flickered between yours, something unspoken passing between you, before he lifted a hand and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered just a little longer than necessary.

“I really like being here,” he admitted quietly.

You swallowed, your heart skipping a beat. “I really like you being here.”

And then, before you could completely process it, Lando leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a slow, tender kiss.

It was soft and warm, hesitant yet sure, the kind of kiss that left no doubt about where things were heading between you.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested lightly against yours, a quiet chuckle escaping him. “So… should I expect Sophie to tell you stuff about me too?”

You groaned, laughing against him. “Oh God, she totally will.”

Lando grinned, pressing one more quick kiss to your lips before pulling back. “Guess that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

From behind you, Sophie giggled. “Mommy likes you sooo much.”

You buried your face in your hands. “Sophie.”

Lando only laughed, giving your hand one last squeeze before stepping outside. “See you soon.”

And as he walked down the path, you stood in the doorway with Sophie, watching him go—your heart already longing for the moment he would come back.

[hughes-your-daddy]

Juno

pairing: luke hughes x singer!reader

warning: slightly suggestive, fluff, swearing

summary: you’re performing in new jersey with luke, his family and team in attendance

luke shuffles through the crowd, everyone following in tow since he knows his way around these events with your security. some of them occasionally stop for pictures with some of the fans, exchanging friendship bracelets some for him and some for you which he happily accepts, before they make it to the vip tent in the middle of the arena.

everyone shuffles into it, like finding the front middle seat, nervously awaiting for you to come onstage.

“you excited?” quinn asks bumping his shoulder, decked out in your merch.

“i think he’s more nervous than y/n.” jack chirps, swinging his arm around the other side of luke.

“she’s never performed here before, and considering we’re usually playing her it’s kinda nerve wracking.” he says looking around the prudential centre.

“crazy how it turns into a concert venue.” nico awes, a smile across his face as he looks about. they’re mid convo before they get interrupted by the lights going down, the intro video playing on big screens.

you stand nervously side of stage ready to run on to do your entrances, towel wrapped tight around you ready for the surprise. you run on your cue hearing fans erupt in cheers before coming to a halt centre standing, covering the lights with your hand to look out into the crowd.

hearing the beginning of taste play you let the first few bars go, locking eyes with luke in the vip tent smiling slightly before revealing your body suit for the night, a red, white and black striped body suit with the number 43 on your nude tights, hearing the crowd go crazy.

you giggle to yourself at the reaction before beginning the show. it’s goes amazingly, feeling the insane vibes from the crowd you get to one of your favourite part of the show where you get to arrest someone before juno.

you walk out with your two backup dancers, coming down to the front of the stage “thank you guys so much for coming out tonight, you’ve been incredible, but all night i’ve been seeing this guy,” you smile staring at luke, as the crowd turns to the tent.

“girls come here, come here.” you say hurrying over to the middle, “hey there, what’s your name?” you ask acting clueless, seeing luke blush, as the others around him shout luke, as he appears on the screen with “arrest” written around him, sirens going off.

“luke? oh my god wow,” you giggle, “how are you?” you ask, seeing him beam back at you, giving a thumbs up.

“i’m overwhelmed, like i knew you were beautiful, but i didn’t know you were that gorgeous.” you smile, seeing the others chirping him.

“guys somethings happening to my body, and, oh my god you’re making me so hot, my clothes are falling off,” you say, your skirt falling down to reveal a shorter one, “and oh my gosh guys i don’t know what to do with myself?” you ask the dancers as the you hand you the pink fluffy handcuffs.

“i’m just gonna have to arrest you for being too hot.” you smile, a hint of sarcasm in your voice, handing the pink fluffy hand cuffs to the security guard who takes them up to luke.

you see him go bright red, his parents watching as the beginning kicks in. dancing round the stage you perform the song having the time of your life before getting to your favourite part.

“wanna try out some freaky positions?” you sing, running up onto the hydraulic, sending a smirk luke’s direction before kneeling down into the famous hockey player stretch.

“have you ever tried this one?” you sing, bouncing a few times before spinning around onto your knees to keep singing.

the crowd goes wild and you can see luke’s friends and brothers riling him up in the vip tent.

you finish the song and a few more before heading off stage to get ready for your final number.

you quickly change into your final outfit a little surprise for luke.

the small platform on the stage rises, coffee cup in hand and the crowd goes wild seeing you wear a number 43 new jersey devils hockey jersey.

you sing and dance your way through the final number before hitting your final pose, seeing the vip tent empty meaning they’re probably waiting backstage.

“thank you new jersey, you’ve been wonderful as always.” you smile, waving and blowing a few kisses before heading off stage, handing your mic to the technicians pulling out your in ears and letting them hand down over your shoulders, heading backstage, seeing a large crowd of friends and family waiting, luke at the front.

they spot you walking down and begin to cheer, causing you to duck your head before doing an exaggerated curtsy and heading straight over to luke.

he wraps his arms around you, lifting you off the ground slightly as everyone goes back to their own conversations.

“you were incredible baby,” luke whispers in your ear before setting you down.

“you like the outfit?” you ask, as he takes your hand and spins you, before pulling you back in by the waist, one hand remaining there, the other on your cheek.

“mmh, you drive me insane.” he whispers, his lips against yours before pulling you in for a kiss. you hear some of the boys chirping him, as he pulls one hand away shooting them the middle finger, before unexpectedly he picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder.

“luke!” you squeal, as he walks towards your dressing room. the two of you giggle until he makes it to your room, setting you down before he sits on the small couch.

“take a picture, it’ll last longer.” you smirk, seeing his eyes take your body.

“honestly, i’d do so much more, but we’re heading out to celebrate with the others.” he smiles, pulling you in between his legs by the back of your thighs.

“nothing to say we can’t have a little fun at home, i have a day off tomorrow.” you smile, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“y/n my mom and dad are staying with us, i love you but i can’t when they’re in the house.” he says, a small blush creeping on his cheeks as he lets out a small laugh, “but seriously, you were amazing, i have no words to describe it. i just, i seriously love you.” you smiles, looking up to meet your eyes, his hands resting on your waist.

“i love you more,” you smile before he stands back up.

“ok, gimme your in ears ill take them for you.” he smiles, already turning you to help you unhook it from your bra.

he gently takes them off before heading out, giving you one last kiss before you get changed.

you quickly change into some low-rise baggy jeans and a small white cropped top, before quickly brushing out your hair and topping up your makeup, slapping a cap on, grabbing your bag and heading out.

you say hi to everyone else, standing to wait with the hughes family.

“thanks for having us y/n, was a really fun night.” quinn smiles, giving you a big hug followed by jack.

“honestly, never seen like so happy in his life.” jack chirps causing yous to laugh.

“speaking of luke, where is he?” ellen asks, and just in time he returns, standing beside you, hand in his.

“all set.” he smiles down at you before everyone piled out to head to the bar.

“oh and fyi,” luke says, stopping you a little behind everyone else.

“yeh?” you ask, confused.

“we could try that position if your down.” he smirks, causing yous to slap his chest moving to walk away, “hey, you asked me.” he calls out after you before catching up.

“maybe, if your good.”

[kissktten]

itoshi rin

rin loves his cutesy girlfriend.

you’re just so adorable!! your hand clasping his, tugging him along as you practically bounce with each step you take. rin promised to come with you to the store— so, here he is, trailing behind his petty girlfriend as she smiles so brightly.

it’s almost laughable, really. a tall, stoic soccer player and probably the girliest girl around. and if rin’s being honest, he loves it!

he’s more than happy to kneel down in the middle of the street, slim hands reaching to adjust the cute frills of your socks before redoing the buckles on your adorable little mary janes.

and rin definitely doesn’t mind holding all your bags, shaking his head at you and insisting it’s fine, and that he can hold them, when you try and tell him you can carry them yourself.

rin has also become your backup whenever you’re at stores.

“i had it first!” some lady shouts at you, her ugly nose scrunching as her hands curls into a fist. “give it back!”

you can tell that she’s only so territorial over the dress because she wants to sell it for triple the price on one of those dumb websites.

“i was literally holding it and you tried to snatch it away from me.” you deadpan, looking back at the woman with an unamused expression. like a cute little copy of rin, if you look close enough.

“liar!” she shrieks in that annoyingly loud voice of hers, and her bony hand curls into a fist— is she going to . . . ?

too bad for her, you have a boyfriend that is definitely not going to let his girlfriend get punched over a damn dress.

his hand grabs her wrist, and the glare he sends to her speaks volumes. guess she didn’t need the dress that much anyways, because she’s quick to scramble away— leaving you, and rin, victorious.

when you get home, rin’s feeling almost excited to watch your little fashion show. it’s a tradition the two of you have— after every single shopping trip, you need to put on everything you get and show off a little.

rin loves it. he loves you.

“very cute, baby.” he’d say, a hand lifting up to adjust the frills of your new skirt. “the colour is nice. a new shade of pink?”

he’s become surprisingly good with colours. at the start of your relationship, it didn’t matter to him— pink was pink and white was white. but now, he’s able to notice even the smallest changes of shades. you’ve trained him well !

rin has also just resigned himself to becoming your personal accessory tester.

“awe, you look so handsome!” you coo, fixing one of the many bows you had clipped into his soft hair. “my little princess.”

yes, in this relationship rin is the princess. the pretty princess, actually.

“thank you, lovely.” he hums, hands gently smoothing over the fabric of your pants. you’re staying at home today, so you haven’t changed pyjamas yet— but you still just look so cute!

of course, rin always has to match with you. wearing cute little pyjamas with paw prints everywhere, the light pink all pretty and cute and so very out of place for a man like rin.

masterlist.

note: i’d like to write more of rin x his cutesy pretty girlfriend . . . should iiiiii???