#singlemom!reader

[wildflowersandvibranium]

Honey & Steel- Series

Chapter Five: Breakfast at Tiffany's

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x SingleMom!Reader

Series Summary: "A chance encounter in a broken elevator ties together the lives of a hardened , emotionally closed off CEO James Barnes and a struggling single mother balancing her daughter , her new job , healing old wounds , and building something neither of them expected , a family."

Content/Warnings: Single Parenting Themes , mentions of PTSD/nightmares , implied trauma (not detailed) , infidelity , mild language , isolation/loneliness , suggestiveness

a/n: hello!! guys it’s 102 here and my a/c crapped out and I’m so sick I’m just melting and AGHH enough of me heres a peek of Bucky , his life and thoughts!

Follow and turn notifs on for my side notifications only blog >>> @notifs-wildflowersandvibranium!

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5:42 a.m. — Bucky’s Penthouse

The sun hadn’t cracked through the skyline yet.

The apartment was dead quiet. Glass walls overlooking the skeletal outline of the city , bathed in pre-dawn blue. All cold steel and stone and silence. It looked like a life that belonged to someone else. A man who had things figured out. A man who slept through the night.

There were no signs of life or home in the penthouse save for the slow tick of a minimalist wall clock and the faint, mechanical hum of the stainless refrigerator. Even the air felt just sterile—like it had been holding its breath with him.

Bucky sat at the edge of his bed , hunched forward, elbows on knees. His black duvet was tossed and pooled around his ankles. He was bare-chested , his skin was pale and sweat-dampened, catching the faint silver glow from the city lights like moonlight on marble. 

His dark hair stuck to his forehead in wet strands, curling slightly at the ends. His breathing came heavy, and strained like he had to think about each inhale, force each exhale.

The black silk cotton sheets beneath him were twisted and soaked through with the remnants of another night that didn’t let him rest. The mattress creaked quietly as he shifted, but it was the only noise he allowed himself.

Another night. Another dream he didn’t want.

His right hand , the fleshy real one, calloused and veined—rested restlessly on his knee. His fingers twitched numbly like they wanted to curl into fists but didn’t have the strength. The other, the left, was cold and unyielding. His prosthetic. It gleamed dully in the faint morning light, the metal intricately paneled, brutal in contrast to his skin with his own company initials stamped ont the side staring back at him.

He flexed it unconsciously, the sound of plates and movement whispering in the stillness.

That arm wasn't the only thing he felt disconnected and dysphoric with.

Scars, pink , silver and violent, spread from his shoulder and crept down the edge of his ribs like flames that never stopped their burning wrath. Reminders of the fire—the wreckage he fought and now was. Of the screeching twisted metal and the moment everything turned into smoke and screaming silence. He could still feel the heat some nights, like the blaze was right under his melting skin.

His chest now that he was older bore more than the scars and carnage from his past. 

Black-and-gray tattoos sprawled across his sternum—clean lines , sharp edges , bold shadows and highlights. A curated makeshift armor, etched into his flesh. Some were flowers , some scripture and writing , others just noise he needed to drown things out with the pain and reward of the pictures covering his past. But none of it really helped. Not permanently. The marks were there to make him look like the kind of man you didn’t want to talk to. 

It worked. Most people didn’t—

His phone buzzed on the nightstand. 

He blinked back his towering thoughts picking up the device squirting at the bright screen lighting up.

>>>Steve: Limo’s downstairs. You ready?

Bucky didn’t answer. Not yet. He stared at the message for a long moment, the screen’s white light painting his face in soft grayscale. The word ready stuck out like a challenge.

He wasn’t. But he never was.

He rolled his neck , letting out a breath that sounded more like a growl, then stood. His body moved stiffly, like it still remembered the pain even if the nerves physically didn’t. 

He grabbed a towel off the back of an arm chair and padded silently into the bathroom, not sparing the mirror a glance.

He already knew what he looked like. And he wasn’t in the mood to see it again.

6:20 a.m. — Back of the Limo

The city was waking up slowly now, but the inside of the limo felt far removed from it—insulated, silent, timeless. The hum of the engine was barely perceptible, more like a vibration beneath the floor than a sound. The backseat smelled faintly of leather and expensive cologne , someone else’s—not his, maybe the drivers.

The space was cavernous but intimate, designed by and for luxury , with deep black-tinted windows that turned the world outside into a blur of muteness and silhouettes. It was the kind of vehicle built to make brutal commutes feel bearable. For Bucky, it just felt like another box—sleek, high-tech, and too damn quiet.

He sat with his shoulders squared , posture stiff despite the comfort of the custom leather seat. His left arm—the gloved prosthetic—rested along the edge of the seat, fingers twitching every so often in restless patterns. 

Light from passing golden street lamps swept over his chest , casting brief flashes across the black ink sprawling over his collarbone and down his chest beneath the buttons of his shirt, which he hadn’t bothered to fasten all the way yet. It felt too suffocating at this moment.

Across from him, Steve sat in a perfectly tailored navy suit, hair neat, tie straight as a ruler , expression composed. A walking contrast to his friend. He looked like someone who belonged in a limo like this. Bucky looked like he might dismantle it from the inside out if it got too quiet for too long.

Steve tapped something into his phone, thumbs moving with the easy rhythm of a man juggling a thousand things but still managing to pay attention. He didn’t glance up right away when he spoke.

“You sleeping at all?” he asked Bucky casually , tone easy, like he was talking about the weather outside.

Bucky’s jaw clenched at his words. His gaze remained fixed on the window , watching a cyclist speed through an intersection , weaving between slow-moving cabs and honking delivery trucks. Morning chaos, ordinary and alive. The opposite of him.

He gave a noncommittal grunt before finally answering. “Some.”

Steve didn’t look away from his screen as he continued. “Nightmares?”

“Some,” Bucky said again , voice clipped.

That was all he offered. But it was more than he usually gave his friend , or anyone.

Steve finally looked up , brows pinched just slightly. “You ever gonna talk about it?”

Bucky turned slowly, meeting his eyes in the dim light. He didn’t blink. “The um.” He shifted in his spot adjusting his collar from his neck once again. “...incident?"

Steve nodded once , nothing pushy—just a quiet acknowledgment.

Bucky’s lips parted like he might say something. But he didn’t. Instead, his gaze slid away again, and he shook his head.

“No,” he said simply. Final.

The word landed between them like a weight.

Steve didn’t press on. He never did. And that was why Bucky tolerated his questions and curiosity.

The silence between them stretched out , not awkward , but with its same weight. The kind of quiet that came with years of shared history, of conversations left unfinished and mutual respect for the things neither of them said aloud.

They rode another minute. The city blurring by. Morning pedestrians emerged, coffee in hand, faces slack and dark eyes with sleep. Billboards flickered to life overhead as traffic thickened around them.

Steve shifted gears , tapping his phone screen off and tucking it away. “We still good to finalize with the biotech investor Monday?”

Bucky blinked once, slowly pulling himself back from wherever his mind had gone for a moment. “Yeah,” he muttered. “I reviewed the terms this morning. They’re solid. Competitive.”

Steve gave a small nod , but his eyes lingered,  watching Bucky carefully, always attuned to the slight variations in his tone, the sharp edge buried beneath the calm.

“And my new assistant?”

Bucky’s jaw ticked again. He looked out the window quickly , expression unreadable. “She’s… different.”

“Different how?” Steve asked, curious but neutral, slowly crossing the nonvisible line they had established.

Bucky paused for a beat before answering. “Real,” he said at last. “Not afraid to screw up and admit it. And not afraid to work twice as hard to fix it.”

Steve’s mouth curved into a knowing smirk. “You mean human.”

Bucky didn’t return the smile. His voice was flat. “You’d be surprised how rare that is in this city.”

Steve leaned back in his seat, letting that settle. The sound of city noise filtered in faintly from beyond the bulletproof windows, the distant wail of sirens, the occasional honk, the low murmur of life returning to the streets.

“You like her?” Steve asked , almost offhand.

Bucky turned his head slightly. Not enough to make it obvious, just enough to acknowledge the question.

“I don’t know her.”

“But you’re curious,” 

Bucky didn’t answer, just let out a breathy scoff of some sort. He stared straight ahead, blue eyes steel, lashes low. The street lights overhead painted along his cheekbone and jaw, highlighting the hard lines, the healed gashes, the faint stubble dusting his chin. He exhaled through his nose slowly, the breath controlled, quiet, and tired.

His mind drifted—back to his office, to the way she moved, to how she spoke without filtering every word. Her nervous honesty, the way she bit her lip when she was concentrating, how she fumbled once and apologized five times over, then stayed late without being asked. 

There was something…unpolished about her that he wasn't used to. Something genuine. A softness the world hadn’t burned out of her yet.

And that, more than anything, made him feel something unsettling in his chest. A twitch, a spark. A warning.

He didn’t know what to do with that. Didn’t know if he wanted to know. Because he’d seen what happened to soft things when they got too close to fire.

His fire had burned right through to flesh and warmth. Through everything he used to be. 

He didn’t look at Steve when he murmured finally , almost too low for anyone to hear, “Curious gets people hurt.”

And just like that, the space went quiet again.

The limo rolled on to their destination.

FLASHBACK — 6 Years Ago.

The air lingered that morning filled with east coast old money , sea salt , and freshly clipped pink and white roses. A pristine million dollar estate sprawled across a cliffside , all white imported stone and manicured hedges and the illusion of forever. 

The main house loomed behind them like a promise someone else had written out. 

Across the place out front , a massive white tent had been lifted and raised , its edges strung with delicate crystal lights that blinked like stars over a carefully curated dream.

It was the day before the wedding. They were throwing one last big get together for their families with a lavish breakfast spread. The next few days would be nothing but champagne and smiles.

Guests fluttered around like moths drawn to power—politicians , CEOs , old family friends in tailored designer suits and practiced laughter. Waiters moved like ghosts between the crowd , offering oysters , clinking glasses , and hors d'oeuvres that were the smallest portions that were prettier than how they tasted. 

Every corner of the estate had been curated to look effortless , elegant , and destined. A future so blindingly perfect , you’d forget to question if it was real.

Her name was Tiffany. And she looked like she belonged here. Every inch of her was polished , from the high , elegant bun in her hair with way too many pins and clips ,  to the designer heels sinking ever so slightly into the lawn. 

She moved through the party like a woman born into expectations and raised to meet them—graceful , measured , shining when the light hit her just right. The daughter of his father’s oldest and most powerful friend. Ivy League. Equestrian medals. French fluency. Not a strand or thread out of place.

She was everything a Barnes was supposed to want.

And Bucky had convinced himself it felt right. Stable. Clean. Respectable.

The kind of love you chose with your head and pocket , not your heart. The kind you agreed to for the sake of business , connections, and shared calendars.

He stood at her side that night , a half-empty glass of champagne in his hand and a numbness wrapped around his spine like a noose. He smiled at the right people. Nodded through jokes he didn’t hear. Said thank you when they told him how lucky he was.

She made a fuss at their home just before the party on how his arm caused lots of conversation and she didnt want it to steer the talk at their part. So for the first time ever since losing it , he gloved it and concealed it from eyes.

How lucky he was. 

Oh how lucky.

It was just after midnight when he walked back into their shared Mr. and Mrs. suite at the far end of the estate.

He’d left early , claiming exhaustion and jet lag after losing Tiffany halfway through and decided on  slipping away from the crowd to breathe. His tie was loose around his neck , jacket flung over his shoulder, the sea breeze biting at his skin. The party noise was distant now—soft jazz, clinking glassware, polite laughter fading into the night behind him.

When he walked down the hall he noticed the door to their suite was cracked , lamp light from within pouring out on the carpet outside the door.

His footsteps slowed. At first , he thought he was beginning to hear things from inside. A breath. A moan. A stifled laugh.

Then the same sounds again , unmistakable this time—a voice that wasn’t hers. 

He opened the door the rest of the way open and there she was. On the bed they were supposed to share that weekend. Her white cocktail dress wrinkled and hiked up around her hips. Her mouth on someone else’s. Hands tangled in hair that wasn’t his.

He recognized the young man as of the catering staff. Younger. Red-haired. Shirt unbuttoned to show his freckled skin, belt halfway undone and pants loose.

Bucky froze. The air was thick and suffocating. The kind that follows explosions.

Tiffany saw him first. She didn’t gasp. Didn’t scream. She didn’t even flinch. She calmly sat up, smoothing her dress down her thighs like it was merely a wrinkle in a napkin.

The caterer scrambled to gather his clothes. Bucky didn’t even look at him. He stared at her with saddened blues , like she was a stranger. 

She met his gaze swiping the mess of red lipstick smeared off her cheek with something cold behind her eyes.  Not shame. Not regret. 

All she gave him was venom wrapped in silk. “I needed to know I could have something that wasn’t yours,” she told him simply.

No apology. No tears. 

“Everything else has been handed to you,” she continued , voice steady. “The company. The penthouse. The name. The future. I just wanted one thing that wasn’t part of your empire.”

His throat closed. He didn’t speak. Couldn’t.

Because somewhere deep down, in the part of him that still knew what heartbreak felt like, he realized she never loved him.

She loved what he was becoming. The rising star. The heir apparent. The powerful man with clean hands and a photogenic smile. A ticket to something she’d already rehearsed a hundred times in her mind: the legacy, the wealth, the headlines.

But not him. Never him.

He stepped back without a word, his pulse roaring in his ears, the door swinging shut behind him with a slam that ended up feeling far too gentle for what it meant.

He didn’t speak to her again since. Didn’t speak to anyone for a while after that.

The wedding was canceled by morning. The press was fed a carefully written statement about a mutual decision, a postponement, a desire to focus on careers. No one asked too many questions. No one dared.

Because by then, Bucky had already started building.

The company. Brick by brick. Deal by deal. Dollar by his dollar.

Every contract a distraction. Every late night at the office a wall between himself and the parts of him that still felt too much. He drowned out the betrayal with work, with silence, with isolation.

And he learned the difference between people who smiled at you… and people who meant it.

Since then, he hadn’t trusted much. And he sure as hell hadn’t loved another woman.

Because he’d seen what love could do when it was used like currency.

When it was worn like a costume.

When it left you alone in a room full of ghosts and champagne.

7:03 a.m. — Midtown

The memory was still clinging to him like smoke.

Her face. The suite. The silence after.

Bucky blinked slowly raking a hand through his hair then tugging on his glove , grounding himself back in the present. 

The promise to soon be distracted out of his thoughts was the only thing keeping him tethered and not running away back home.

He exhaled through his nose , sharp and quiet , hoping he could physically shake the memory out of his chest.

“We’re here,” Steve said beside him, his voice gentle but firm—aware, maybe, of how far Bucky had just drifted. 

The limo eased to a stop, the soft purr of the engine giving way to something far louder on the other side of the tinted glass.

A low roar of voices. Shouts. Cameras already flashing before the door even cracked open.

Bucky rolled his neck slowly. His jaw tensed once, then relaxed. He straightened his jacket with mechanical precision—dark, custom-fitted, sleek as hell. Every line of him was curated for this moment: powerful, expensive, inaccessible.

But the mask was heavier today.

He adjusted the cuff of his shirt over the edge of his prosthetic, hiding the metal like it hadn’t been bolted into him—like it wasn’t a piece of who he was now. Like the world hadn’t already built stories about it.

Outside, the chaos built as he and Steve left the vehicle and entered the roar of noise.

“James! Over here, look this way!”

“Mr. Barnes—who are you wearing tonight?”

“Quick shot for Vanity Fair, please—just a smile?”

He didn’t roll his eyes. Didn’t scowl. That was a victory in and of itself.

Flashes went off like heat lightning , searing through the early morning air. The crowd was a wall eruption—paparazzi, fans, press handlers, red carpet staff trying to direct people like it wasn’t a barely-contained war zone of egos and flashbulbs.

Bucky stepped out into it like he’d done it a hundred times. Because he had.

And every time, it felt like suiting up for battle.

His red bottom boots hit the carpet, polished and perfect. His face was unreadable—blank in the way only people who’ve bled and buried too much could manage. That careful detachment he wore , the calm chill behind his eyes that made strangers second-guess their own voices.

To the cameras, he was every inch the enigma.

Bucky Barnes: CEO. Survivor. Reclusive powerhouse. Man with the steel arm and the unbreakable face.

He gave them what they wanted.

A glance. A nod. A flicker of eye contact that hinted at intensity but never gave away anything more.

Not vulnerability. Not joy. Just controlled , calculated presence.

He stood there a second longer, letting them take their shots. Behind him, Steve walked with far more ease—smiling politely, waving, his suit crisp and tailored like he belonged on the cover of a finance magazine.

“Looking sharp, Rogers!” someone called.

Steve chuckled under his breath and mouthed a quick thank you. “They always say that. Never means anything,” he muttered just loud enough for Bucky to hear as he adjusted his gold cufflinks.

Bucky didn’t answer. He was too busy scanning the chaos—not for danger, but for the distance he needed. Every step on the red carpet was a performance. Controlled breathing. Relaxed shoulders. No clenching of the jaw, even though his teeth ached from the tension. No narrowing of his eyes, no flexing of his prosthetic fingers.

This wasn’t war. But it sure as hell wasn’t peace.

The barrage continued:

“James— we are live on ET sir , tell us about the new merger!”

“Is it true you fired your head of marketing?”

“Are the rumors true—you turning down the East Coast Trailblazing award?”

He barely registered the questions anymore.

Just noise. It was always noise.

He gave a small incline of his head to one particularly bold photographer, who was leaning halfway over the velvet rope. A single glance from Bucky made him freeze in place. Cameras kept clicking.

And yet… underneath the hard lines and the tailored suit and the media choreography…

A whisper of something else slipped in. Uninvited. 

The soft echo of a little girl’s voice from weeks ago came out as a younger interviewer through the question out. “Why do you look like a mean guy?”

He glanced sideways, just for a second, and his mind pictured it without warning:

Y/N, in something soft but elegant, standing beside him.

Madelyn in a sparkly dress too big for her, probably twirling in circles or posing dramatically with Snowball and Piggy tucked under each arm.

Y/N rolling her eyes with a smirk at her daughter working the camera.

Madelyn holding his hand, pointing at the photographers like they were an unknown she wanted to explore. 

The image hit him harder than he expected. He forcedhis expression back into that quiet armor he wore so well.

Steve looked over from a few feet away, gave him a questioning look. Bucky just nodded once.

The cameras kept flashing. The carpet kept moving.

But part of him stayed with the thought a second longer.

He hadn’t known what to say to the question.. Didn’t even remember if he’d answered.

But that voice echoed now, threading itself through the flashbulbs, through the chaos, through the worn concrete mask he wore so damn well.

Why do you look like a mean guy?

And for just a second—

Just one—

He smiled.

Small. Real. Fleeting.

It barely touched the corners of his mouth, but it melted something sharp in his chest, something brittle and long-frozen.

And the cameras went wild for it with more flashes then the Oscars get with one little change of his lips.

Because Bucky Barnes didn’t smile.

And yet there it was.

Sometime that night — Y/N’s Apartment

“Madelyn! Brush your teeth , baby!” Y/N called from the kitchen , one hand full of crumpled old receipts and plastic toy food.

“Okay, Mommy!” came the echo from down the hall , followed by a clatter of feet on the plastic stool and the squeak of the bathroom faucet turning on.

The living room was still a mess from their earlier grocery store game. An overturned laundry basket had served as a shopping cart. Price tags made from sticky notes were slapped all over the remote , a hairbrush , and a banana from the real kitchen.

Y/N laughed to herself as she picked it all up , tossing toy coins into a shoebox marked “register.”

The TV was still on in the background , muted but lighting the room with its flashes and colors.

She glanced up at new movement on the screen , her eyes went wide when she saw Steve and Bucky , side by side , walking the carpet in sleek suits and hard stares.

Her breath caught for a second. Bucky looked good he was polished, effortless. Distant. Every inch the powerful man the world thought he was. His lips were smooth , beard just the perfect length , what would it feel like—

“LOOK!” Madelyn yelled , barreling into the room.

She stood proudly in the middle of the rug , mouth wide open , teeth bared in a giant , silly grin. “See? Sparkly clean!”

Y/N turned off the TV with one flick of the remote and crossed the room in three long strides to her girl.

“Well let me see the backs”

Madelyn squealed as Y/N scooped her up , tickling her sides.

“Nooooo, Mommy!” She squirmed out of her old and took off running.

“Yes, Mommy!” Y/N declared laughing , chasing her daughter around the couch. “Tooth check is serious business Mads!”

Their laughter filled the apartment , bouncing off the walls like the sound of a life well-loved.

-end of chapter

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[sunni-stuff]

Part 4

Soap’s eyebrows lifted with a curious glint in his eye as he looked from you to Adira, a playful grin edging onto his face. He leaned in, never one to miss a chance at a bit of friendly prodding.

“So… you’re married?” he asked, his tone as light as his smirk.

You laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Haha! No, I’m not.” You gave Adira’s tiny hand a gentle squeeze, glancing down at her with a smile that softened every edge on your face. 

Soap tilted his head, pretending to be shocked. “A bonnie lass like yerself? Unmarried?” he teased, hand on his chest as though it were a crime.

“Guess I’m a rare breed,” you replied with a grin, chuckling as you shifted Adira’s hand in yours.

Soap’s face lit up at your response, as if he’d just been given the most interesting bit of news he’d heard all week. He shot Ghost a quick look, but Ghost was still watching Adira, his gaze softened with something unreadable.

Meanwhile, Gaz wasn't fascinated by Soap's ability to make anyone at ease, the man was a cassanova. Roach watched Adira with curiosity, as though piecing together a puzzle he hadn’t realized existed until now. Price stood off to the side, arms crossed, silently observing the whole scene.

“If you aren’t married, how’d you get this little one?” Soap pushed, grinning as he wiggled a playful finger in Adira’s direction.

Adira’s gaze snapped up from Ghost to the man with the funny hair, her little brow furrowing as she studied Soap with a mix of curiosity and caution. She leaned into your leg, clearly wary, but her attention stayed on the finger waving in front of her.

You chuckled, brushing a hand over Adira’s head to reassure her. “Long story,” you replied, smiling. “Let’s just say she was an unexpected blessing.”

Soap laughed softly, glancing at Ghost with a gleam in his eye. “Ah, aye, life’s full of surprises, eh?” 

Ghost, who had been studying Adira in silence, clenched his jaw, shifting uncomfortably as Soap’s words hit a little too close to home.

“I used to be really wild back in the day,” you admitted with a sheepish grin, a hint of nostalgia coloring your tone as you thought back to those not-so-distant years.

Soap wasn’t quite done yet, though. “Does the father know?” he threw a quick glance at Ghost, who had just risen from his crouched position. A new tension ran through Ghost’s frame, his stance rigid, as if the question had struck something he’d rather not confront.

You hesitated, a shadow crossing your expression before you shook your head. “No, he doesn’t… He, uh, probably has no idea.”

Ghost’s jaw tightened, his gaze flickering from you to Adira, who was absorbed in her drink, unaware of the intensity surrounding her. His shoulders stiffened, and for a split second, he looked as though he wanted to speak—but whatever words he had caught in his throat, locked behind his silence.

"I see, well. I'm sorry if I took up your time, ma’am, you've been a nice chat," Soap said, his voice softening with a touch of politeness, his grin still present but more reserved now.

You nodded, giving Adira’s hand a gentle tug as you continued on your way, the soft crunch of snow beneath your boots the only sound accompanying your steps. The blue sky stretched above, peaceful, serene. As you walked, Adira turned her head, glancing back at Ghost one final time. She refused to let go of her cup, her small fingers gripping it tightly, but she lifted her other hand in a small, hesitant wave. "Bye-bye," she whispered, her voice soft but sweet.

Ghost’s gaze lingered, but he didn’t move. His expression was unreadable, a mixture of things churning behind those eyes. 

Price let out a heavy sigh, crossing his arms and facing Ghost. “So... what’s the plan?” he asked, his tone both blunt and expectant, clearly waiting for some kind of direction. The rest of the team stood in silence, watching the exchange unfold.

Ghost didn’t answer immediately. His gaze remained on you and Adira, watching you both disappear further down the street, the distance growing with each step. The soft crunch of snow under your boots was the only sound in the quiet winter air. He didn’t even notice Price's voice until the man spoke again, closer now, with a slight edge to his tone.

"Ghost, talk to me. What’s the plan here?”

Finally, Ghost shifted, his shoulders tense, his jaw clenched as he turned to face Price. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—something caught between anger, confusion, and a deep, gnawing regret.

"I don't know," he muttered, the words barely escaping his lips. "I wasn't expecting this. Hell, I didn't even know she existed." His voice was low, strained, but there was a quiet honesty to it, as if he was trying to process something that didn’t make sense.

Soap stepped closer, his expression serious for once. "What now, Ghost? We can help. But you need to tell us what's going on."

Ghost finally looked away, his attention drawn to the ground, his fingers twitching like he was trying to find something to hold onto. "I don't even know where to start," he admitted. "All I know is... I saw her. And it hit me like a fucking truck."

Roach, always one to stay in the background, spoke up. “Maybe it’s time to talk to her, yeah? Figure out where to go from here?”

Price’s eyes narrowed, his stern gaze shifting to Ghost, assessing him. “And what exactly do you want from us? You’re in this, whether you like it or not.”

Ghost let out a frustrated breath. “I don’t know,” he repeated, voice hoarse. “But I can’t just let her slip away.”

A silence stretched between them, heavy and thick, as the weight of the situation settled in. Then, slowly, Ghost nodded. “I’ll figure it out. Just… not now. Not here.” His eyes flicked toward the street where you had disappeared, and something in his gaze softened, just for a moment, before the mask fell back into place.

Price gave a single nod. "Alright. But we stick together on this. You’re not doing it alone, Ghost."

The team stood together for a moment longer, the wind howling through the alley, before they slowly began to move, their steps trailing off into the winter evening. The silence that hung between them was thick with uncertainty. No one knew what came next, but they knew one thing for sure: whatever happened, they were in this together.

A month passed, the team giving Ghost the space he needed to process the whirlwind that had hit him. They all knew this was something he had to handle on his own terms, but that didn't mean the questions didn't linger. What did it mean for the future? What did he want? The answers were still unclear, even to Ghost himself.

But Soap, ever the persistent one, wasn’t content to let things sit in limbo. He knew Ghost, knew how his mind worked, and that sometimes the best way to breakthrough was to take small steps. And if that meant subtly nudging you into the picture, then so be it. He’d always been good at this—at slipping in the background, making things happen without anyone noticing.

So, Soap started to "accidentally" run nto you. At the park, when you were out with Adira, he'd make sure to be in the same place at the same time, offering a casual greeting. It always started simple, harmless, with a nod or a small comment about the weather. Then, of course, there was that coffee shop where you'd gone to get hot chocolate for Adira.

The first time he "bumped" into you there, it was nothing more than a quick exchange. A question about the drink, a comment on the cold weather, just the usual small talk. But Johnny's natural charm and ease made you relax, and made the conversation flow without much effort. Over time, those small moments grew. You'd smile when you'd see him, and he'd greet you with the same friendly energy, always leaving you feeling at ease. No pressure, just casual.

And slowly, ever so slowly, Johnny began to warm you up to the idea of him. It wasn't much at first—a smile here, a shared laugh there—but he knew what he was doing. He wasn't pushing, just letting the connection build at its own pace. The more you saw him, the more comfortable you felt. The more you talked, the more you found yourself enjoying the interactions, even if they were brief.

One evening, Johnny sat beside you on the park bench, casually leaning back as Adira bounced around in the snow, her laughter filling the crisp air. The sound was contagious, and for a moment, you let yourself relax, watching her with a soft smile.

"So, me and a couple friends are meeting up at Leslie's this weekend," Johnny said, his tone light but with a hint of something more. "Would you be interested?"

You snorted, expecting the usual joke or teasing, but when you glanced over at him, his expression was far more serious than you anticipated. For a moment, you considered dismissing it. After all, Leslie's? A pub? That was a far cry from the cozy routine you’d built for yourself with Adira. 

“Seriously?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. "I don't think I fit the scene."

Johnny shrugged nonchalantly, the corner of his mouth lifting in that playful grin of his. “Please. It'll just be like old times.”

Your mind immediately wandered, trying to understand what he meant by that. What was it about old times that Johnny thought might appeal to you? You didn’t exactly have a wild past to cling to. Sure, you’d had your moments, but those felt long behind you now. 

Still, something about the invitation lingered. A night out... maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. You hadn’t done anything for you in a while. And maybe, just maybe, it would be nice to let someone else take care of the night for once. No worrying about Adira, no responsibilities for a few hours. Just some fun, whatever that meant now.

You hesitated, looking down at Adira as she made another snow angel, oblivious to the conversation happening nearby. She’d be fine, right? And you could leave if things felt uncomfortable. 

“Alright,” you finally said, meeting Johnny’s gaze with a reluctant but genuine smile. "I'll join you. But only if it’s not as crazy as you’re making it sound." 

Johnny’s grin widened, and you could tell he was already mentally planning the evening, no doubt with some plan to ease you in without overwhelming you. He stood up, dusting off the snow on his pants as he glanced back at you.

“Deal. I’ll make sure it’s a night to remember.”

You just hoped he wasn’t overselling it.

The weekend seemed to arrive so fast, and here you were, standing outside your apartment, nervously adjusting your blue blouse and jeans. It wasn’t exactly the type of outfit you thought would fit a night out, but it was the best you could do. Most of your wardrobe these days consisted of comfortable clothes, ones that could be easily changed or wiped clean in case Adira had another of her toddler mishaps. Sexy or flirty clothes were a distant memory, tucked away in a drawer somewhere, gathering dust.

Adira stood in the doorway, clutching her little stuffed bear to her chest, eyes wide and brimming with unshed tears. The sight hit you harder than you expected. You knelt down in front of her, your heart sinking at the sight of her teary eyes. “I’ll be back in a couple hours, I promise,” you said, your voice gentle but firm, reaching out to her with a reassuring smile.

Adira sniffled, her tiny hand coming up to rub her eyes, but she didn’t break her stare. You held out your pinky, the gesture as familiar as breathing. Slowly, she reached out, her small finger wrapping around yours with the same trust she always had. The connection was brief, but it felt like a promise, one that you hoped would calm her.

"I won't be out long," you said softly to the friend you’d left with her. "And you, be good for Auntie too." The last part was directed at Adira, though the words felt bittersweet on your tongue.

Adira nodded, but her face still held that sadness, that uncertainty of what the night would bring without you. 

Standing up, you ruffled her hair and offered a small, hopeful smile. “I’ll be back before you know it. Just a little fun for Mama, okay?”

Her small nod didn’t do much to ease the tightness in your chest, but you turned and gave her one last look before stepping outside. The cool evening air wrapped around you, a contrast to the warmth of the apartment behind you, but you pushed the feeling away. Tonight was for you, however strange that sounded. 

Locking the door behind you, you felt a flutter of nerves in your stomach. This wasn’t just any night out. It was a night with Johnny, with his friends, with the possibility of reconnecting to parts of yourself you’d set aside for so long.

Arriving outside the establishment, the familiar hum of chatter and music filled the night air, but what caught your attention first was Johnny standing outside, leaning against the brick wall, checking his watch. The moment his eyes met yours, they lit up, his expression shifting from casual to something almost... eager. 

“Well, well, look at you,” he said with that trademark wink of his, his gaze raking over you with a genuine appreciation that made you feel suddenly self-conscious. “You clean up well.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at your lips. It was hard to resist the easy charm of Johnny.

“Let’s just hope I survive this night,” you muttered, though the words were more for yourself than him. You weren’t sure what to expect tonight, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that things might not go as smoothly as Johnny seemed to think.

Johnny chuckled, the sound warm and reassuring. “I’m sure you will. Now, let’s get going before I change my mind.”

With that, you fell into step beside him, the weight of your hand at your side suddenly feeling strange in the cool night air. He led you toward the door, and as you entered the dimly lit space of the bar, your eyes scanned the room. 

It was bustling, a mix of regulars and newcomers, all seeking solace or company for the night. It smelled of beer, whiskey, and the faintest hint of fried food, a familiar and welcoming kind of atmosphere. But as soon as you stepped inside, your nerves shot back up again. You tried not to let the nerves show, but they were there, itching under your skin.

What you didn’t notice, as you made your way to the bar, was the group inside. Ghost, Price, Gaz, Roach—quietly observing, waiting for their chance to either speak to you or simply let you slip through their fingers once more. Ghost’s eyes tracked you the moment you stepped inside, and there was a hesitation in his gaze, something raw and almost pained that flickered in and out. 

For a moment, Ghost didn’t move, didn’t speak. He simply watched you, aware that the moment he’d been dreading—he had finally stumbled into. Your gaze met his across the room, the flicker of recognition passing between you both. But that was it. You didn’t remember. You didn’t know him. You didn’t know what he was to you.

Approaching the bar, you saw that Johnny was already leaning in, chatting with the bartender, exchanging friendly banter. You barely heard the words, only caught up in the feeling that something was different. Something you couldn’t quite place. You glanced back at the table where those men sat. They weren’t talking, but their eyes were all trained on you, as if waiting for something to happen.

Your heart raced without explanation. Ghost’s eyes—those eyes—stayed locked on you. He didn’t know how to approach, how to change what had already seemingly been set in stone. What was he supposed to say? What was the plan now that you were here, so close? God, why the fuck did johnny do this.

Johnny leaned toward you again, a soft smile curling his lips. “You good, love?” he asked, his voice pulling you back to the present.

“Yeah,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. You forced a smile, trying to ignore the uneasy tension brewing in your chest. “Just... getting used to being out.”

Johnny winked again, oblivious to the chaos of emotions swirling within you. “It’s all good. Let’s have some fun tonight, yeah?”

Ghost’s fist clenched involuntarily under the table. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this distance, this silent acknowledgment of his role, or how long he could ignore what it meant to see you here now. 

“You’ll fit right in,” Johnny said, though there was a hint of something deeper behind his words. “Just a bunch of mates enjoying a drink, nothing crazy.” Johnny leads you over to the table, you expected to be met with… well you didn't quite know what.  

Price leaned back in his seat, cigar in hand, a soft smile on his weathered face as he regarded you with a raised brow. “Didn’t think you’d actually show up.”

"Neither did I," you muttered under your breath, forcing a smile and doing your best to ignore the gnawing feeling that lingered when you looked at him. You hadn’t quite expected this part of the evening.

“I’m just here for a drink, nothing more,” you said, looking over at Johnny was getting comfortable in his chair.

“Well, pull up a seat, love,” Price said, motioning to the empty spot next to him. “We’re all friends here.”

You hesitated but made your way over, perching yourself on the seat next to him. The sound of the glass being slid toward you, the clink of ice against glass, broke through the chatter around you. Your nerves buzzed as you focused on the drink in front of you, trying to ignore the sudden realization of just how different this was from the quiet, routine life you had at home with Adira.

“Enjoy yourself,” Price said with an air of casual amusement, leaning back in his chair. “This is all new for you, isn’t it?”

You raised an eyebrow, not wanting to admit just how out of place you felt in the moment. Instead, you took a sip of your drink, the burn of whiskey warming you from the inside out.

You laugh lightly, a bit awkwardly, trying to shake off the nerves that gnawed at you. "Yeah, this all a bit... newish. I haven't been out like this in years honestly," you admit, taking a deep breath and glancing around the bar. The warmth of the space was a welcome contrast to the chill outside, but the sight of the men made you feel more like a fish out of water than ever.

Johnny claps you on the back with an easy grin, clearly trying to make you feel more comfortable. “These are my mates. Price, Kyle, Gary, and Simon," he introduces with a flourish, motioning to each man in turn. 

You give them all a polite smile, not quite sure what to make of them just yet. There was something about the way they carried themselves, all standing a little apart from the crowd, that made it clear they were more than just regulars at the pub. But you didn’t have time to focus too much on that right now. You were trying to just survive the night.

Price, who looked a bit older than the rest, nods at you, his gaze thoughtful, almost cautious. “Nice to meet you,” he says in a tone that is polite but distant, as though he’s waiting for something, some sign.

Kyle, as Johnny had called him—gives you a friendly nod, a playful glint in his eyes, but there's a strange sharpness to his look that you can’t quite place. “Pleasure," he says, offering you a tight smile.

Gary simply gives you a quick but sincere nod. His eyes linger on you just long enough for you to catch a flicker of interest before he looks away.

And then there’s Simon. His presence, as always, is quieter, more intense. He’s sitting in the middle, arms crossed, his gaze fixed directly on you. You can feel the weight of it, though. It’s impossible not to. There was something you couldn't place with him though you couldn’t see too well under the dim light.

You try to shake off the unease creeping up your spine. “Nice to meet you all," you reply, your voice warmer than you feel. 

Johnny, oblivious to the awkwardness in the air, slaps the bar and gives a nod. “Alright, drinks all around, yeah? Let’s get this party started!” he declares, pulling the group into the rhythm of the night.

As the revelry began your stomach churns slightly, a sense of unease still lingering despite the distraction. You knew something was off, something you couldn’t quite put into words. It wasn’t just the men—it was the way Simon’s gaze lingered on you, the way he looked at you as if he were waiting for something. It unsettled you, but you couldn’t figure out why.

Johnny, seemingly oblivious to your tension, slides a drink toward you. “First round’s on me," he grins, the clink of glass against the table snapping you back to the present. "Here’s to a good night.”.

You took a deep breath, swallowing down the nerves that still clung to you. This was supposed to be a night out, after all. A chance to shake off the past, to let loose just a little. You couldn’t let the weight of everything pull you under before you even tried. What would be the point if you didn’t at least try and enjoy yourself?

Shaking the tension from your shoulders, you took a sip of your drink, the burn of alcohol easing the knot in your stomach just slightly. The guys were chatting among themselves, Johnny’s laughter cutting through the low hum of the bar as he joked with Kyle. Price was listening intently, nodding along while Gary seemed content to let the others talk, his eyes occasionally flicking to you, though his gaze didn’t linger long.

And then there was Simon.

His presence loomed even when he wasn’t speaking, his broad frame leaning against the bar just slightly, face half hidden by the shadows. You caught his eyes for a split second, the intensity of his stare making your pulse hitch. You quickly looked away, focusing on your drink, your nerves creeping back up despite the effort to push them aside.

You could feel his gaze on you, though, like a weight pressing against your back. You tried not to let it show, tried not to acknowledge how his proximity seemed to pull at something inside you, but it was impossible to ignore. There was a pull, something in the air, but you couldn’t quite grasp it.

Sighing inwardly, you turned your attention back to the others. Just enjoy yourself, you remind yourself again. Don’t think about him. Don’t think about any of it.

Johnny clinked his glass against yours, a grin on his face. “Here’s to not letting the night pass us by,” he said with a wink, and you couldn’t help but smile back, lifting your glass.

“Cheers,” you said, the warmth of the alcohol giving you just the nudge you needed to ease into the evening. For now, you’d ignore the tight feeling in your chest. You’d enjoy yourself. 

But the eyes that lingered on you would remain, whether you were ready for them or not.

You pushed your chair back with more force than necessary, the scrape of it against the floor loud in the otherwise quiet bar. The conversation still echoed in your ears, but your focus had been on the man, Simon, for the past half hour. His silence had become suffocating, every glance he cast in your direction feeling like it held some hidden meaning. You couldn't quite place it, but something was off about him. His eyes, cold and intense, had followed you too much, made you second guess every word you’d said.

"Im... gonna go powder my nose," you muttered, more to fill the silence than anything else. You didn’t wait for a response, the words barely out of your mouth before you were already making your way across the room, past the low hum of idle chatter and the clink of glasses.

While you were in the bathroom, the entire team turned their attention towards Ghost, each of them sizing him up, starting with Soap.

"What is wrong with you?" Soap asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and amusement.

"What?" Simon blinked, genuinely confused.

"Mate, you've been gawking at her all night," Gaz added, raising an eyebrow, his voice teasing but laced with concern.

"Shit. Are you serious?" Simon muttered, running a hand through his hair, but his gaze didn't stray far from where you had just disappeared.

Roach, leaning back casually with his drink in hand, nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, it's like you’ve been stuck in a staring contest with her since she walked in."

Price, who had been watching quietly, shook his head with a resigned sigh. He snuffed out his cigar in the nearby ashtray, eyes narrowing as he met Simon's gaze. "If you scared her off, I doubt you’ll get another chance, lad."

Simon’s jaw clenched. He hadn’t realized how obvious it had been, but now that the team was calling him out on it, he felt the heat rise in his chest. He hadn’t meant to make you uncomfortable, but the pull to look at you, to remember what had sparked your connection all those years ago had been almost magnetic.

“Alright, alright,” Soap teased, leaning in, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Just don't burn a hole in her head.”

“Shut up,” Simon muttered, his mind racing, trying to figure out how to fix this without making things worse.

Price shared a look with the rest of the team, a silent understanding passing between them. While Soap might have been the one to set this whole thing in motion, it didn't mean the others didn't have contingencies in place. 

Soap got up first, stretching a bit. “Gonna make sure no one's tried to get in my car,” he said with a casual tone.

“I’ll come with you,” Gaz chimed in, already pushing himself up from his seat and following Soap toward the door.

A minute later, Roach also stood, excusing himself without a word, and then Price followed suit, his movements deliberate. “I’m gonna make sure they’re not up to anything,” he said with a knowing glance.

With everyone out of the immediate area, the bar suddenly felt quieter, and the tension in the air seemed to thicken. It took Ghost only a second for it all to click—he had been set up. Without thinking, he bolted from his seat, rushing outside just in time to catch the taillights of Soap's car disappearing down the street.

He cursed under his breath, but before he could make another move, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Pulling it out, he glanced at the screen. There, in simple words from Price: 

“Good luck.”

Ghost stood still for a moment, phone in hand, as the weight of the situation hit him. His heart thudded in his chest. This was it. There was no turning back now.

By the time you returned to the table, you felt a bit more at ease. The night out wasn’t all that bad… it was just that Johnny had some weird taste in friends. Well, mostly the tall one. You couldn’t help but notice how everyone seemed to have left, a pit forming in your stomach at the thought of being ditched.

You let out a quiet sigh, about to gather your things and head out when your phone lit up in your purse. Pulling it out, you saw a text from Johnny. 

"Emergency, looks like one of the beers wasn't that good, poor Kyle threw up."

You paused, reading the message again, a small smile tugging at your lips. Aww… nevermind. At least they hadn’t forgotten about you after all. 

"Hope he's okay." You replied quickly, grabbing the straps of your bag when suddenly a hand landed on top of yours.

You looked up, meeting the intense gaze of Simon. Seriously? You couldn’t help but think. They took everyone but this guy?

You forced a smile, trying to pull your hand away, but Simon’s grip was firm, not unkind. “Look, I had a decent time, but I have to go—”

“Just a minute,” he interrupted, his voice low, steady, almost pleading. There was something about the way he said it that made you pause, something different than the usual small talk.

"Fine." The word slipped out before you could process it, and you cursed yourself inwardly. Really? You just agreed to stay with the guy who hadn’t stopped staring since you met him. You sat back down, and he mirrored you, settling across the table. 

Silence stretched between you, his intense gaze unwavering. He didn’t so much as blink, and you couldn’t help but feel more unsettled by the second.

What the hell is his deal?

“Look, if you're just going to be a creep, I don't think I want to mee—"

“Do you remember Armed Forces Day?” His voice cut through your words, quiet but resolute.

Okay, this took all day, I wanted to give you all something long to read incase I disappear for finals (which I might)

Reblogs appreciated!!!

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WOWWW LOOK AT ALL THESE NAMES. Thank you all so much for the support!! Im sorry if i missed any, I will update if I noticed any missing or comment on those who's tags didnt go through!

[wehaveabucky-archive]

Feel Like Baking Love

pairing: baker!bucky barnes x singlemom!reader

word count: around 3.9k

summary: you forget the most important part of your kids birthday party; the cake. but thankfully, a local patissier is more than willing to help you in your hour of need

warnings: fluff

masterlist

“Balloons.”

“Check.”

“Party bags.”

“Check.”

“Gluten free hot dog buns for Rhiannon?”

“Check.”

“Cake?”

“...Shit,” you looked up from the spread that covered your dining room table. It was a variety of party supplies; banners, uninflated balloons, garden games, party hats, party food. But no cake.

“We could just go to the mall?” Wanda suggested as you slumped into a dining room chair, a defeated groan escaping your lips as you threw your head back.

“She’s five, Wan, I want this to be special,” you pouted, “plus, it’s the first one since…” you trailed off, closing your eyes, and Wanda smiled sadly. You had been working hard lately, both in your career and at being a single mother. It wasn’t easy, holding down a full time job, dealing with the grief of losing your partner, and then raising your daughter at the same time. But, you were determined to make everything in Leila’s life perfect. Including her 5th birthday.

“I know a guy that makes cakes,” Wanda smiled, a scheming tone to her voice. You opened one eye and frowned.

“It’s not the chef you tried to set me up with last month, is it? Because I told you, if I meet someone, I meet someone, I don’t need you-”

“It’s not the same guy,” Wanda was quick to butt in and she covered her eagerness well with a cough, levelling her voice as she pulled out a card from her purse and began writing on it, “that guy was a chef. This guy is a… baker.”

She handed you the card and you read over it.

James Barnes. Pâtissier.

On the other side was a number, an email and, in Wanda’s rushed handwriting, an address that seemed to be ten minutes across town. You sighed, reaching for your phone but Wanda stopped you again.

“Go see him now, he won’t mind.”

You frowned at her, glancing at the name again. It didn’t seem like it was the same guy. The guy she had tried to set you up with the other month had a strange name... Buck? Bucky? Something like that. Still, you were a little apprehensive about just knocking on his door and asking him to bake your kid a birthday cake within the next twenty four hours.

“Are you sure? His card seems pretty fancy…”

“That’s just Bu-James for you,” Wanda nervously laughed, standing and grabbing your coat, “Go, I’ll look after Leila for you whilst your gone. I think Pietro would appreciate another hour or so of play time.” She nodded at your two kids who were playing with a toy kitchen set, Leila chopping fake plastic vegetables as Pietro pretended to fry an egg.

“Alright,” you sighed, letting Wanda help you into your coat, “Leila, I’m just going out but Auntie Wanda will watch you two for a bit so behave, okay?”

“Mom!! You made me cut my finger,” she frowned up at you playfully, clutching her uninjured finger with a frown on her face. You crouched down next to her with a smile, reaching out and taking her hand in yours. You frowned at her finger, pretending to examine a non existent cut, before placing your lips against her finger, making an over exaggerated smooch sound.

“There we go,” you grinned, pressing another kiss to her forehead. She giggled and went back to cooking.

“See you in a bit,” you waved to Wanda as you grabbed your keys and left the house.

“Enjoy,” Wanda wiggled her eyebrows a little as you shut the door, the comment too late for you to respond with anything but a frown as the door closed.

James Barnes’ house was in a nice area, probably nicer than yours. It was a small detached house, painted white with olive green shutters and a porch covered with climbing ivy. When you rang the doorbell, you heard a clattering of bowls from inside, presumably from the kitchen, and then steady footsteps making their way to the door.

“Just a minute,” someone called from behind the door as a jangle of keys indicated the person was opening the door. You thought about who could be behind the door. Maybe an old guy with posh glasses. Wanda had said he was fancy. Maybe he was French… no his name wasn’t French. Maybe British?

“Sorry, I was busy in the kitchen,” the man said with a laugh as he opened the door. Your lips moved to smile but they faltered slightly when you were greeted with what can only be described as a baking god the other side of the door.

He was tall, with broad shoulders and a strong jaw. Young, probably the same age as you, and a slight stubble shadowed his cheeks. His hair was long and scraped back neatly into a bun and he was dressed in chef’s whites, almost spotless although his flour covered hands indicated he was in the midst of a recipe.

“Can I help you?” James quirked an eyebrow at you when you stood there a minute not speaking, and you had to shake yourself back into looking normal again instead of some gormless stranger. You put on your best smile, taking James aback.

“Sorry if I’m interrupting you but, are you James Barnes?”

“Yes,” he frowned at the card in your hand and you raised it a little to indicate that’s how you’d found him.

“Wanda told me you could help me? It’s my daughter’s birthday tomorrow and I have this big party planned but I… well… I was bound to forget something and it just so happens to be-” you glanced at his flour covered hands again and smiled sheepishly, “-the cake.”

James frowned, turning to look through the hallway to kitchen, where he was halfway through making some Petit Four for the shop tomorrow. He didn’t make children’s birthday cakes. Far from it. And Wanda knew that. So why did she send you to him? Directly?

You noticed his hesitation, chewing your lip as you mulled over your options. You could apologise for assuming and go to the mall or…. You could try and sweet talk him.

“Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself,” you smiled even wider and Bucky lost the nerve to tell you he wasn’t that kind of baker. You held your hand out, “my name is Y/N.”

Y/N. And you were friends with Wanda. Suddenly it all clicked. You were the girl Wanda had told him about last month, and had continued to tell him about every time he saw her since, despite the fact that you didn’t want to go out with him. He remembered Wanda saying you were single, that your partner had died a little under a year ago, and you had a daughter, Leila, five years old. You worked hard at your job, and even harder as a mother, and you were perhaps the sweetest person on the planet.

“Even sweeter than this ganache, Bucky,” Wanda had hummed, swiping a finger through the bowl of chocolate as she followed her friend around his kitchen.

One thing Wanda had been wrong about. You were even prettier in real life.

Without thinking, Bucky reached out, grasping your hand in his to shake it. A poof of flour erupting around your joined hands like a mushroom cloud. Bucky’s eyes widened as it settled on your black jeans, expecting you to leap back and yank your hand away. But, to his surprise, you held onto his hand, laughing as you nonchalantly brushed the flour away.

“Oops,” you chuckled, and Bucky smiled, opening the door wider.

“Sure, I’ll help you,” he gestured for you to enter, chewing on his lip, “erm, let me just tidy this up and you can tell me what you want.”

“It’s nothing too difficult, I just… wanted it to be special, you know?” You glanced around what you could see of his house, appreciating the simple yet homely decor. When Bucky walked through to the kitchen, you followed. Your jaw dropped at the room. It had clearly been recently renovated, and it was probably larger than your kitchen and living room combined. The cabinetry was a sleek white and the countertops a beautiful white marble. There were multiple ovens, four it seemed, in a square inside one wall of cabinets, and there were two large fridges.

“Wow, do you work from home?” You turned to Bucky who scratched the back of his head nervously.

“Erm, sometimes,” he said, in a way that you knew you wouldn’t be getting much more out of him. He quickly cleared away some bowls of delicious looking mixtures to a corner of the kitchen before turning back to you.

“Okay, well… let’s start with her name,” Bucky gestured to a stool behind the large island and you sat, trying not to stare at his arms as he rolled the sleeves of his whites up, leaning on the counter across from you.

“Leila,” you said, even though Bucky already knew, and he smiled.

“Pretty name.”

“Yeah, well,” you shrugged, smiling proudly. Any compliment of your daughter made your heart sing.

“She likes the colour yellow. And sunflowers. She’s obsessed with tweety bird, you know, from Looney Tunes?”

“Old school,” he raised an eyebrow at you and you pursed your lips. You didn’t want to tell him it was something your partner used to watch with her but from your expression, Bucky knew that already.

You cleared your throat.

“She likes bees too. Anything yellow really,” you laughed, shaking your head, “my parents bought her this beautiful chestnut coloured teddy bear but for a year she refused to sleep with anything but her bright yellow rubber duck. She had a beak imprint on her face every morning.”

Bucky laughed with you, unable to control the wide smile that spread across his face at your own blissful joy as you reminisced.

“Okay so yellow. Any allergies?” He asked, producing a notepad from a drawer and scribbling down notes on things you’d just said.

“No. I mean we have one kid coming who is Coeliac but I was going to find a gluten free alternative for her anyway,” you explained, frowning when he wrote that down anyway.

“And you need it for…”

“Tomorrow,” you nodded, chewing your lip, “I’m really sorry it’s so last minute.”

You reached into your bag to pull out your wallet but felt Bucky’s hand cover your own. He was reaching over the counter and when you looked into his eyes, you got lost in the blue. He gave you a small smile, squeezing your hand softly.

“Wanda’s a good friend,” was all he said and you could almost cry at his generosity. Without thinking, you leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek, pulling back with a beaming smile. Bucky was acutely aware of how red his cheeks were becoming after that small amount of affection, feeling his heart beat a thousand times a minute.

“Thank you, James,” you stood, “I’m really sorry but I left Leila with Wanda.”

You rounded the counter and flipped over a page in the notebook, scribbling down your address and then your number. Bucky watched over your shoulder, ideas already running through his head about the cake. You tore out the page, folding it once before handing it to Bucky.

“Again, I can’t thank you enough, James.”

Bucky took the paper from you, the distance between his body and yours a little too close for a regular conversation, but neither of you seemed to mind.

“Please,” he finally stepped back, tucking a stray hair that had fallen from his bun behind his ear, “call me Bucky.”

“I still cannot believe you let me go to that man's house and make an embarrassment out of myself, thinking he was a completely different guy to the Bucky guy,” you waved around a balloon, still slightly out of breath from pumping it up. Wanda rolled her eyes and your other friend, Natasha, chuckled as she tied a knot in an already inflated balloon.

“You didn’t make an embarrassment of yourself,” Wanda hit you with a balloon and you glared at her.

“How would you know?” You grumbled, tying a knot in the last balloon.

“Well,” Natasha grinned, falling into a chair as your shoulders dropped in relief, “now all that’s left to wait for is the cake.” She wiggled her eyebrows at you and you sighed.

A couple of kids had arrived for the party, but only the ones whose parents you were good friends with. Steve and Sharon’s kid; Sarah, Sam and Natasha’s son; Lev, Wanda and Vision’s son; Pietro, and Bruce and Thor’s daughter; Rosa. They were all playing in the garden, with the various garden games you’d already set up, as the parents milled around helping you set up the party.

For the next few minutes, you went outside to watch the kids with Thor and Sam, laughing as Rosa triumphantly beat Lev at a game of cornholes. But, no amount of childish fun could drown out the shocked voice of Steve as he opened the door.

“Bucky?”

You whirled around, excusing yourself quickly from your post with Thor and Sam, and ran inside to the front door. Steve was stood in the hallway, a frown set on his face as he tried to comprehend the appearance of his best friend stood in the doorway, a large yellow box in his hands and a plastic bag hanging from his arms.

“Bucky,” you breathed out, glancing with a frown between Steve and the pastry chef, “you two know each other?”

“Since we were kids,” Bucky smiled, turning his attention to you. You nudged Steve out the way, opening the door wider and letting Bucky into your home. It was smaller than his, and each room seemed to be home to some toy tucked away in the corner. There were family portraits on almost every surface. Some of you and your daughter, some of you and your daughter with who Bucky assumed to be your partner, and then some of just you and them.

“Sorry about the mess,” you apologised, leading the man into your much smaller kitchen which had different trays of party food littered across the surfaces. The adults had all gathered in the conjoining living room, from which they could watch the children in your garden. Most waved at Bucky, addressing him by name in their greeting, and you tried not to look too taken aback that it seemed like all of your friends knew him.

“Looks like a good party,” he smiled at you and you couldn’t help but mirror the smile. He set the cake down on the counter space you’d cleared for him carefully.

“Well, it’s about to get a whole lot busier,” you looked at your watch, noting that it was nearly 1pm, the start time on the invitations.

“I can’t thank you enough for this,” you smiled, and something about the way he looked into your eyes and didn’t step back when he turned and you were closer than appropriate for a noral conversation, made you reach out and squeeze his forearm appreciatively. Your hand lingered and Bucky chewed his lip, trying not to let the blood rush to his face.

Wanda had been right. You were sweet, insanely pretty and from the looks of the effort put into this party, a wonderful mother.

“Do you wanna see?” He murmured, eyes still not moving from yours. You frowned and Bucky cleared his throat, gesturing to the box. You took a breath to regain your composure, turning towards the box on the counter. You felt the eyes of your friends on the two of you and tried not to let them see your flustered expression.

Bucky lifted the lid carefully, arm brushing yours as he did so. You couldn’t help but gasp at the contents.

It was a two tier cake, the bottom layer white and the top black, but each had a dripping effect yellow icing running down the side like paint. On top sat a golden bird cage, a perfectly formed  tweety bird sat inside. There was a sash around the cage, reading “Happy” then a large space “Birthday, Leila”.

Growing from the yellow icing over the white cake, were small chocolate sunflowers, elegant bees painted onto the black background of the top cake.

“I… I didn’t know how old she was turning so I left a space,” Bucky murmured, pointing at the gap between Happy and Birthday on the sash.

“Five,” you whispered, still in shock from the beautiful cake that graced your eyes. Bucky nodded, reaching into the plastic bag to produce a small piping bag. You watched as he elegantly piped ‘5th’ in between the two words, hand steady.

“Wow,” was all you could say, feeling tears well in your eyes. Bucky chewed his lip, unsure of what to say or do now, so he pulled out a smaller box from the plastic bag, opening it to reveal a cupcake topped with yellow icing and smaller tweety bird, this time not enclosed in a cage.

“For the Coeliac kid,” he grinned sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. You looked at him in awe for a second, before you acted upon complete instinct and pulled him into a big hug, burying your face in his shoulder.

“Oh my god, I could kiss you,” you laughed, feeling happy tears run down your face. You pulled back, looking into Bucky’s eyes as he blushed a deep red at the thought of it.

“Thank you, honestly. This is more than I could’ve asked for,” you smiled.

“Wow, Buck,” Steve stepped around the counter and the two of you pulled away from each other awkwardly. Bucky cleared his throat letting Steve slap him on the back.

“You don’t even make cakes for my kid,” Steve pouted and Bucky spluttered, opening and closing his mouth like a fish as he tried to form some sort of excuse that would save his dignity.

“But,” you frowned, “you’re a baker, no?”

“No!” Steve laughed, answering for Bucky with a shake of his head, “Buck’s a patissier. He owns Le Loup Blanc in the city.”

You choked on air, glancing between Steve, Bucky and then a sheepish looking Wanda as you processed that information.

“But… that’s michelin starred…” you felt yourself turning sickly as you realised you’d just put a michelin star pastry chef to work on a children’s birthday cake for the last twenty four hours. Bucky tried to reason with you, holding his hands out as he commenced a speech about how it was no big deal, when suddenly your daughter ran into the kitchen, holding something up to show you, only for it clatter to the floor when her eyes were captivated by the masterpiece.

“Is that my… cake?”

There was a silence, you still unsure that you could even form words at the moment. So Bucky acted on instinct, bending down to your daughters height.

“Sure is, darlin,” he smiled at her.

“Did you make it?” Leila asked, little eyes wide in awe as she pointed at the cake that was too high for her to reach.

“I sure did, want a better look?”

Leila nodded and Bucky scooped the girl up, lifting her so she was at your height, looking down at the cake.

“TWEETY,” Leila gasped excitedly, prodding a finger out to point at the caged bird. You gulped, glancing around at your friends with wide eyes as you processed the information you’d just recieved. But they were all watching Bucky with a fond smile on their faces. You watched to as he described each element of the cake. When he’d finished, Leila had a massive smile on her face, and you shook yourself into mother mode.

“What do you say, Leila?” You pressed, smiling at her.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she grinned at Bucky, wrapping her arms around as much of his shoulders as she could in a grateful hug. The group of adults awed and Bucky blushed again, setting the girl down on the floor so she could run back to your friend.

“I’m so sorry,” you said as soon as she was out of earshot, covering your mouth with your hand to express your shock, “I swear, I didn’t know, I- I would never have asked such a thing of you if-”

“-Hey, it was my pleasure,” he tried to give you a reassuring smile, but you still shook your head, not noticing the disappearing of your friends into the back garden to join their kids.

“But, I took so much of your time,” you breathed out, lip quivering as you were about to lose it over how crazy this was.

Bucky didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was because you looked like you were about to break down. But he was pretty sure that it was because ever since you’d shown up at his doorstop, he hadn’t been able to think about anything else but that date Wanda had promised him that never happened.

“How about you let me take up some of your time, you know,” he stepped closer to you, feeling bold, “in return?”

You held your breath, brows furrowing into a frown as you processed his words.

“Like… like a date?” You squeaked out, feeling your heart going crazy at the soft look in his eyes. Bucky smiled, chewing his lip.

“I have to go back to the shop now,” he murmured, stepping away from you, and you felt your chest deflate a little. You nodded, leading him to your front door on shaky feet.

“Dinner, tomorrow? At eight? I’ll pick you up,” he almost pleaded when he was halfway out the door. You wanted to say no. Just to spite Wanda. But the idea of spending time with this man you were pretty sure was an angel made your lips curl up into a smile.

“Okay,” you nodded, chewing your lip. Bucky couldn’t help but beam brightly at your answer, eyes darting down to your lips. Without a second thought, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a soft kiss.

You wanted to be taken aback, but you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been wanting that to happen since you laid eyes on the man. So you kissed back gently, tasting a faint taste of caramel on his lips. Bucky rested his forehead on yours for a second, before pulling away with a small laugh.

“Sorry, I just,” he shook his head, hair falling around his face, “been thinking about doing that since you brought it up.”

There was a teasing tone to his voice that made you giggle like a schoolgirl. Finally, Bucky sighed, stepping back down the steps of your porch towards his car.

“Desserts on me,” he winked as he turned to leave and you smiled again.

“Hopefully literally,” Wanda’s voice made you jump and you whirled around to glare at her. She grinned sheepishly at you as your glare hardened.

“What?”

“I’m still mad at you,” you muttered, shaking your head as you closed the door. But Wanda knew from the smile on your face, tomorrow night you’d be thanking her.

[congratsloserr]

this is so freaking cuteeee!!!

Sweet Escape

Pairing: Rafe x single mom reader

Summary: Moving to Kildare with your best friend and daughter was the perfect move. The little island is perfect, the people are nice, and you are finally at peace. Then Rafe comes in with his perfect smile and charm, sweeping you off your feet. The only issue is if you are ready to let someone else in.

Warnings: None

Wc: 5.1K

Chapter 2: Oh Baby

“What are you all mopy about?” Jo asks with a mouthful of her breakfast. “You got flirted with last night, you should be happy.”

You hum at her as you help Violet with the mess she’s making. All morning you’ve been in your head thinking about Rafe. Since you found out you were pregnant and the dad left you, the only thing on your mind was just Vi. So when a handsome, full of himself, sweet talker of a man made you want more of him it was a shock. 

It’s not like you haven’t had the attention of guys before or after having a kid, but none of it seemed important to you. So why are you so bothered about last night? Jo’s right you should be happy but all you feel is stressed. “I don’t know. I think I just need to focus on me and Vi right now.” Jo drops her fork and looks up at you. “Haven’t you been doing that the moment you found out about her? Can’t put your life on pause because you have a kid. Yeah it’s great that you want to focus on her, she should always be first, but think about yourself too.”

You are thinking about yourself. Last night you had alcohol in your system so you didn’t think properly. Drunk you was into him only because of the fact you were drunk and nothing else. He was rude when you had met him earlier and the sober you didn’t like him. So there’s no need to really dwell on it.

“He was just flirting, he probably just wanted me to give him that flower order. It didn’t mean anything.” You can feel Jo’s eyes staring you down, you look her in the eyes. “Plus I’m not looking for anything. I like things the way they are.” Violet shoves a piece of her pancake in her mouth. “Ywah.” She comments as if she knows what you are talking about.

Jo really doesn’t say anything else, only telling you that you shouldn’t shut something down before it even happens. After breakfast you got Vi and yourself ready. When the two of you were ready, you headed off to the shop. You had made sure to bring the toddler with you as a buffer. Jo and June could tell what you were doing, the duo whispering about how ridiculous you are being. Last night June waited up for the two of you and got the whole run down.

She basically told you the same thing her grand-daughter did. Rafe is super rich and has a history of violence with others and cops. It was shocking because he looks so well put together, guess looks really can be deceiving. June saw the look of disappointment on your face when she finished talking. “People can change so who am I to judge? The boy seemed to have changed after his dad died.”

You shake the words out your head, willing yourself to just forget about last night. Everything is fine because no man in their twenties wants to be with someone who has a kid. You’ve found out that every time you tell a guy you had a kid, they run away just like her dad. It’s something you’ve come to terms with and it doesn’t bother you.

Violet runs right into the shop once you open up the doors. You keep the close sign on so no one tries to come in like yesterday, he can just knock. For a little bit, you chase her around, avoiding the flowers so they don’t fall. For someone who didn’t get a lot of sleep last night she has a lot of energy this morning. June said that she had woken up once and took her a little to go back to bed. But after you checked in on her, she kept getting up and wouldn’t go back to sleep.

By the time Rafe is supposed to get there, the little girl is slugging around the store rubbing her eyes. You looked at the clock and saw that it’s almost twelve, he should be here soon. Looking at your daughter you can see her tiny yawns as she tries to keep playing with you. Vi usually has a nap around 1 but since she can barely keep her eyes open you take her to the office so she can nap on the couch. As soon as her body hits the cushions she’s out, her light snores making you smile.

It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve seen her sleep or put her to sleep, her snores are your favorite sound. You still remember the nights where you would just sit there and listen to them because they let you know she was fine. She looks so peaceful sleeping, your baby that needs to be protected at all costs. Closing the door to the office you made up your mind, no boys, even the really cute ones.

Right on queue, there’s a knock on the front door. You walk over and open it to let him in. “Hey. I didn’t know how you like your coffee but I just put some milk and sugar in it.” Sure enough when you look at the hand extended towards you there is a cup in it. “Hi. Thank you, that’s really sweet. You didn’t need to get me anything.” You lead him further into the store, to the back open room.

Most of it is empty since this is where you set up all of the flowers to display. “Think of it as my apology for running off on you last night.” Rafe watches as you fidget with some of the petals of a flower, avoiding the topic of the previous night. “I wanted to stay but I had to help my friend out with something.” His eyes track your movements, noting how tense you look in this moment. “It’s okay really. I figured you had somewhere to be.”

Rafe is getting ready to say something to you and changes his mind. He must have read things wrong last night, he thought you were into him. Setting his own coffee down he walks closer to you, leaning on the bench where you are looking at some flowers. “I’m being straightforward here aren’t I? Sorry I just thought you were also into it last night.”

Your eyes scan his body, gliding up his chest and his face to see his eyes. “I was. It’s just.” There’s no need to finish your sentence, he moves away from you to put some distance. “Don’t have to explain, You woke up and realized it was a mistake, no worries.” The way he says it makes you feel guilty, an undertone of something you can’t place. He won’t look at you know, the rejection feeling raw to him. Sure he’s been rejected before but he really thought there was something more.

It’s crazy to think that a person he just met can make him feel this way. His whole life he’s been rejected, every chance of happiness ripped away. For heaven's sake even his own mom left him with someone who hated him. Even at the young of eight his parents knew he would be a failure. That’s the reason why his mom up and left all of them, he’s heard Ward yell it at him plenty of times. Then right when he feels like he got Ward's approval he ran off with Sarah and died just to get away from him.

So yeah, being upset about some random girl rejecting him is crazy. He wishes he could go back to when he was giving you a hard time about the flowers, maybe if he was nicer you would have given him a shot. Everyone on the island has written him off already and just a few days of moving here so have you. “What flowers do you have? Rose said I need to get Lily’s and maybe another flower. So what would go well with that?”

Rose? 

He was flirting with you when he was already seeing someone? This is exactly why you need to focus on yourself. The slight hurt feelings you are feeling right now shouldn’t even exist but here they were. “Pansy’s are always a good choice and even roses, It’s up to you honestly.” It was a little awkward showing him the ropes of what he needs to do. It was like the two of you didn’t know how to act around the other once flirting was off the table. Another crazy concept because you just met.

For an hour, you two work on the center pieces. The first few Rafe made weren’t the best, he couldn’t seem to get the right number of flowers in each. They were over crowded but after your help they looked good. “You need to add more greenery to break up the flowers. Also try not to add too many, it takes away their beauty.” Rafe just nodded along taking notes.

After a while he got the hang of it and you didn’t need to help him. If he wasn’t super rich you might have offered him a job that you couldn’t pay him for. It was good he got the hang of it because that meant you could focus on making more. You were so focused you didn’t hear the bang in the office door.

“What was that?” Rafe asked, looking around as he holds scissors and a flower stem. You look up to question him and hear the bang this time. “Momma.” Rafe gives you a puzzling look and you get up to let Violet out of the room. “Sorry it’s my daughter.” His look just gets deeper. “You have a daughter?”

You ignore him and keep walking. When you open the door Vi’s arms automatically wrap around your legs. “Did you have a good nap baby?” Your hand brushes the back of her head, taming the rouge pieces. “Mhm.” She rubs her head on your thigh. It was something she picked up over the years. You would nuzzle into her when you would wake her up, you guess after some time she decided she wanted to do it too. 

She grips your hand as you walk her to the backroom. Rafe’s been watching the door like a hawk after you left. What do you mean daughter? Does this mean you have a boyfriend? Fuck of course you have a boyfriend, that’s why you were backing out of last night. What a poor sucker, can’t even keep his girlfriend happy enough so she doesn’t flirt or cheat. Rafe bets he would be able to keep you happy, show you what that little boyfriend of yours can’t.

He watches as you walk in, your head is bowed to look at the little girl next to you. Rafe’s blue  eyes jot down to see a smaller pair of blue eyes looking right back at him. It takes him a moment to actually realize you weren’t kidding, you have a daughter. The whole time he processes he can’t take his eyes off the little girl. Which seems to also be the case with her.

Violet has only ever really been around the same people her whole life, but she does well with strangers. She just doesn’t know what to make of the giant of a man standing in front of her. He cracks a weary smile at the toddler as she cowers behind your legs, somewhat scared of him. But like a hero you crouch down and soothe her. “It’s okay. This is my friend Rafe, can you say hi?” Your nose nuzzles her cheek making her giggle.

“Hi.” It’s small, her voice still growing along with her. WIthout a second thought Rafe bends down, sticking a hand out to the girl. “Hi. What’s your name?” She looks at you, seeking permission to answer his question. When she sees you nod her eyes go back to him. “Wioleth.” Your laugh catches his attention, he likes how it sounds. He liked it last night and hearing it directed at your daughter with love makes it better. 

“Her name is Violet. She still has trouble with v and sometimes with the t.” The smile on your face lights up your face, crinkles forming in the corner of your eyes. “Like the flower?” Seeing your smile directed at him makes his own shine on his face. “Like the flower. She’s my little petal.” She sticks to you like glue when you get back to work, sparing a few glances at Rafe to see if he was still there.

You were in the middle of snipping some stems when you heard Violets laugh. Turning to the sound you see her next to Rafe, who is currently tickling her with the lily in his hand. Stunned from the sight, you stand there and watch. Even while he’s sitting down he towers over her, her neck must hurt from looking up. Another laugh erupts in the room but the culprit this time is his fingers tickling her side.

You know he’s whispering to her, his mouth is moving but barely any sound is coming out. It’s like the two of them forgot you were there, too engrossed in the other to care. What surprised you the most was when she threw her arms uo so he could pick her up. He did it in an instant like it was second nature to him. The second his eyes met you after setting Vi on his la you unfreeze. “She seems to like you.” 

“Glad one of you does. She seems pretty cool.” He gives you a teasing smile, the tension in your shoulders drops. You don’t get why he’s upset, he has a girlfriend. But seeing how he was with Vi right now wished there wasn’t another girl named Rose and you didn’t make stupid rules for yourself.

The rest of the time went smoothly, in the middle the missing flowers were delivered so he got to choose some extras. Then he set up the tuck time and left, leaving you and Vi with a quick goodbye. After the truck got the flowers you tidied up the place, getting it ready for tomorrow’s opening. By the time you got home the two of you were beat, barely talking during dinner.

“How was it with you know who?” You snicker at Jo’s words. “Why are you saying it like he’s Voldemort?” She shrugs at you and takes another bite of food. “I don’t know, maybe he is. You were acting like he was this morning.” Here we go again, she already texted you while he was there. Is he still as hot in the daytime? Are you two flirting? Don’t do anything in front of my precious baby, she’s innocent. The text went on for a little while longer. It’s like she feeds off you ignoring her messages because she knows you’re annoyed.

“I just want to focus on me and my daughter, not on some random guy I just met. Plus Rafe has a girlfriend.” Vi’s head shoots up when she hears his name. “Ra?” Jo looks at her in bewilderment. “Looks like the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. What’s this girlfriend's name? Clearly she needs to keep him in line.” You fidget with your food, knowing that Jo clocked the jealousy in your voice. “Rose.”

June who has stayed quiet all dinner chokes on her iced tea, spilling it everywhere. Violet laughs thinking it’s a fun game and tries to imitate her with no success. “Sweetheart, did he say girlfriend or just Rose.” You give her a questioning look. “Just Rose.” In all of your years of knowing June you’ve never seen her laugh like that. She was practically off her chair and on the floor crying with laughter. “Wow I never thought I’d see the day when Jo was smarter than you.”

“Hey!”

“Sweetie, Rose is his step-mother. She stuck around after the dads death to help him take care of his little sister.” Little sister? He takes care of his little sister with Rose, who is his step-mom and not his girlfriend. “Oh.” Jo and June just give eachother a look and shake their heads.

For the rest of the night you just think about how he actually doesn’t have a girlfriend. The only thing stopping whatever it was between you two is well you. The whole point was to protect Vi but she seems to love him. Throughout her bath and bedtime routine she kept asking for him. Letting out a small “Ra?” or “Whew Ra?” not really getting to saying his full name. He seems to be good with her, but that doesn’t mean anything. You go to bed thinking about what the hell you are going to do.

The next morning goes the same as the other. You get up, start breakfast, get Vi up, eat breakfast, get ready, and go to the shop. Everything was running smoothly, the shop was open and all the flowers looked perfect. You were even able to plant some seed in the greenhouse that’s connected in the back.

Customers have been coming in all morning, buying bouquets and individual flowers. Everyone has been so nice, even talking to Violet as they shopped around. She was having a blast chatting with them and running around the store. Around twelve you decided it was time to get lunch and grab Vi. As you're locking the door she keeps tugging at your hand. “One second Vi. I just need to lock up okay.”

THe impatient toddler keeps pulling at her hand. “Momma wook.” She’s pointing down the street but the key is giving you trouble. You’re struggling with the lock when her hand slips from yours, she’s running down the street screaming. “Ra! Ra!” Sprinting after her you see what she was pointing to. 

Rafe

She rams into his legs falling in the process just before you could stop her. Rafe is distracted by the sudden feeling of being hit in the leg. He looks down to see Violet on the floor and you running up to the two of them. “I’m so sorry.” You exclaim to him as you pick her up and check that she’s okay. The people behind him are waiting for him to unblock the doorway. He places a hand on your arm to move you both away from the way. “Ra!” She squeals at the man in front of you two.

“Looks like someone’s a dinosaur today.” He chuckles at the girl. “Hi Violet. Hi.” He says your name, the heat from his hand leaving as he retracts it. You greet him back, stepping a bit closer to him. “She’s actually trying to say your name. She kept asking for you after you left.” A smile forms on his lips, he feels proud that he made an impression on the young girl.

“She asked about me?” There’s something in him that can’t help but poke a bit. “I bet dad found that strange.” Satisfaction fills him when your face changes at the mention of dad. It was subtle but he could see it, see how it made you uncomfortable. “He’s not in the picture. Just us.” His face drops, he felt smug thinking he called you out for not telling him the truth. 

Looking at the two of you he can’t see how anyone could do that. You seemed so nice and funny, Vi was just a baby. How could someone do that? “Shit sorry I didn’t know.” His face scrunches when he realizes he just swore in front of a kid. “Shith.” Vi repeats, bouncing in your arms.

Rafe gives you a guilty look. “I’m sorry. Didn’t think before talking.” You giggle and shake your head. “It’s okay. Jo and I swear a lot around her. But I swear she gives Vi too many ideas.” The breath he was holding when you mention Jo is released when you paired she was a girl. He really thought for a second that maybe he didn’t have a chance. Maybe he still doesn’t but it doesn’t hurt to try.

“Dang I need to get back. I didn’t get to lock the door, she was so excited to see you that she couldn’t wait for me to figure out the lock.” It’s nice to know that the girl in your arms wanted to see him. After he left he seriously thought he wouldn’t see you again. He doesn’t know when he got to be so sentimental but he wants to know you and have you like him. The same goes for Violet.

“The door was giving you trouble?” He walks along with you as you make your way back. “Yeah it was giving me a tough time to lock it. It wasn’t perfect before but now it seems impossible.” You demonstrate it for him, twisting the key only for nothing to happen. His hand wraps around yours, twisting toughly and successfully locking it. “I can fix it for you.”

“You don’t have to do that. It’s just jammed.” Vi squirms her way down from your arms to make her way to him. “Ra come.” She waves her hand at him. He kneels down and pulls the sunglasses up to look her in the eyes. “I’m here.” The interaction is strange to see. She has always been social but this is different. She actually really likes him. 

He interacts with her like they have always known each other. As if they didn’t just meet yesterday. It’s confusing seeing it all play out. “I think she wants you to come to lunch with us. We were just about to leave.”  The sun is kind of overtaking you as he looks up. “Is it Violet or mama that wants me to come?” He stands up and takes a hold of Vi’s hand. “I can do lunch. Then we can go get you a new lock and I’ll set it up.” You two just stare at each other for a second, not wanting to break first. “Okay, know any good places?”

“Come on, I can take you to the country club. They have a great chicken club.” As id on instinct he shifts Vi to the other side of him, blocking the two of you from the main road. A simple gesture that means a lot. “I don’t have a membership to one of those. Plus I don't even know how to get there.” The crosslight sign changes to stop as soon as you make it to the crossing. You’re fishing for your keys when Rafe’s hand stops you. “It’s okay I have a membership, they’ll let you in. I was going to drive anyway so you don’t have to worry about it.”

You look at him and then at Violet. “So you just always carry a carseat around?” There’s a blush that forms on his cheeks from the teasing. He looks down at the young girl and realizes he completely forgot about the fact she was so young. “Right, my bad. Umm we can go a little further down, there’s a restaurant there. The hardware shop is close to there.” 

Vi seems content with just sticking by Rafe. When you got into the restaurant she sat directly beside him, sitting as close as possible. “Sorry I can take her.” He just picks up a crayon they gave her and started to color along with her. “It’s fine, I don't mind.” She forced him to color with her the whole time. She even had him help her with cutting her food. 

It was so surreal seeing this all play out. He was so natural with her and their connection was effortless. It made you think back to the night in the bar. The conversation was so easy and nothing felt forced. Seems like you and Vi have that in common, both falling for his charm. “How old is she?

He’s rustling around with some locks finding the perfect one for you. You shake your head as he shows a different one. “Two, her birthday is in October.” Her ears perk up at your voice. “Birdday?” Rafe laughs and shows you a different lock. “That one.” Vi giggles as he tickles her neck when he passes by. She starts to chase after him and he runs off, turning up and down the isles. You chase after them making sure she isn’t getting hurt or god forbid stolen. 

People are giving the three of you weird looks, jumping out of the way so as to not get trampled by a 6”2’ giant. You had to keep apologizing to people as you passed by them. Finally he gave up and let her catch him. Violet was laughing hysterically, throwing her arms up so he would pick her up. 

He gives you a surprised expression, not knowing what he should do. You were just as confused as he was, you don’t know if you should let them get that close. Who knows who he really is and if he would just disappear the next day. Rafe picks her up when she starts to whine, holding her as he pays for the lock and some other tools.

“You didn’t have to pay. I could have done that.” The three of you are walking back now. He’s still holding Vi who now rested her head on his shoulder, rubbing her eyes. Pulling out your phone you can see it's a little past one. She most likely is waiting for her nap time. By the time you are trying to open up the door she’s out cold in his arms.

When it’s open you turn around to grab her from him. “I can lay her down, so she doesn’t wake up.” It makes sense so you show him your office and he lays her down on the couch. “I’m going to go start the lock.” He walks away and fiddles with the lock. It’s as if when Vi isn’t around there’s nothing for him to say. It was the same yesterday after you tried to say it couldn’t continue he was closed off.

Crap did he want it to continue?

You walk to the front door and see that he got the old lock out. “Hey.” Looking over his shoulder he can see you standing there. “Hi.” He goes back to put the new lock in. “What I was trying to say yesterday is that I need to focus on Vi and I. You’re new to our lives and I can’t take any risks. It’s not just me I have to look after.” The tension in his shoulders can be seen from even where you’re standing. “I get it. At first I thought it was because you regretted it. But I get it now, she’s more important.”

You stand there as he finishes up. When he’s done he packs everything up. “If it was just you, would you still feel the same?” That’s a great question, would you feel the same? Simple answer is no you wouldn’t. “No I wouldn’t.” His eyes meet yours in a hopeful way. “But it’s not just me.” It’s illogical to feel upset about this, realistically he knows why you can’t. “Well the lock is all set up. I should head out.”

“Rafe please.” He just packs everything up and goes to leave. “Rafe.” He looks over his shoulder. “Bye.” The way he says your name is like a dream. It was airy as if it hurt to even say. It did hurt, he felt regretted. You don’t even fully know him and you already shut him out. You may be new but even you knew to stay away from him.  He spends the rest of the day thinking about you.

Yeah sure he isn’t the best. He’s just getting over his addiction and trying to keep his temper down. But at least he’s trying, he wants to be better yet all anyone can see is how damaged he is. It has never been an issue letting it go and ignoring people, he’s done it his whole life. This time he’s finding it harder to ignore the pressure in his chest.

Without really thinking her\ gets into his truck and is driving back to the shop. He doesn’t even know if you are still there but he has to try. As he’s pulling up he can see you and Violet exit the shop. He’s getting out of the car when you turn around and see him. “Rafe?”

“Okay I’m just going to say this and get it off of my chest. I meant it when I said I didn’t want to leave the other night. I was a dick about the flowers that day and I regret it.” He cringes when he remembers there’s a kid right next to you, she doesn’t copy the word so he’s in the clear. “I thought that yesterday we would pick up where we left off. Probably a stupid idea but I’ve never been known for being that smart. There’s just something about you and I can’t stop thinking about you. I get it you have Violet and you need to think about her. Just, just give me a chance. All I’m asking for is for you to get to know me.”

He’s waiting for your response when Vi walks closer to him and grabs his hand. “Okay. Under one condition.” “Anything.” He says fastly. “ We take this at my speed. I can’t have her getting attached to someone and have her get crushed if you decide this is too much.” He wants to be upset that you could think that. You hardly know him so he can’t, at least you are giving him a chance.

“We’ll take it as slow as you want. How about we go out this weekend? You can bring Violet along too, I don’t mind.” She jumps at hearing her name. “Out!” She shouts “See, even she’s excited.” You smile up at him. Maybe this isn’t such a bad idea, he seems nice and caring. “This weekend sounds great. I could probably get Jo to watch her”

He walks you over to your car, standing back as you get Vi into her carseat. “I never really thanked you for helping me with the flowers. Really saved me from having to deal with my annoying step-mom.” You laugh at him, cloning the door and making your way to the driver's side. “It’s no problem. I guess you’ll just have to make it up to me this weekend.” He smiles down at you. “I’ll make it special then.”

Before getting into your car you give him a kiss on the cheek, leaving him there to watch as your car drives away. The smile he has can’t leave his face, too happy that once again he got what he wanted. This time he promises to himself he won’t fuck it up.

Taglist: @haruvalentine4321, @namelesslosers, @ijustwanttoreadlols, @drewsphswife, @corpsebridenightamare

Let me know if you’d like to be added🫶

[missmarveledsblog]

Hand on heart (Jake Seresin x Singlemom! reader)

Chapter Thirteen

Summary: the dagger squad is coming home, jake finds something interesting out and Peach takes in Mav's words and putting them to use

Warnings: feels , mentions of toxic childhood as well as parent, parents in addiction. fluffy goofy humor.

Previous Chapter

The day before: 

Same shit, different day although it wasn’t the same as tension in his shoulders since he found out her mom was in town, and he was stuck on this ship till they got home, most of time he was checking over the jets or in the gym or common room and repeat shit felt like he was losing his mind. Tired of the same thing daily, He was kind of relieved when he was called to Admiral Chester Cains office, although he did seem to let out little snip at Mav the whole time they were there, especially when he found out who they were. What he didn’t expect was Phoenix, Payback, Bob and even Prince to be also heading in the same direction. By the confused looks on their faces they seemed to be thinking the same thing.   

“Do any of you know what this is about?” Payback whispered as they shook their heads. Not one of them had an ounce of a clue to why they were there.  

“You don’t think they’re gonna tell us we’re staying longer do you” Bob asked making them collectively sigh.  

“It’s cause Mav pissed him off with some shit, i swear I'm swimming home fuck it” Payback whined a little too loud just as the door opened making the other straighten up instantly.  

“Come in and don’t worry if it comes to swimming home, we’ll give you some floaties” Admiral Cain suppressed a smirk as they walked into office.  “So, you’re wondering why I called you, to be honest I wasn’t keen on you guys coming here, i mean their making machine that will make your jobs obsolete” he stared.  

“Sir i don’t mean to offend but not even a machine is as good as these fellow naval aviators” Prince stood fort.  

“Let me finish son” Cain shot him a look before continuing. “Or that was my thought till a certain Captain pulled a stunt involving Mach 10 not that i would say such to that captain, I don’t how you got lucky to get Captain Mitchell as your superior, but that man continues to amaze me with the pull he seems to find. So no, you do not need to swim how a chopper with be here at seventeen hundred to bring those of you to stop off point and then tomorrow morning you will be picked up and brought back to top gun” he explained making their jaw almost fall open definitely not expecting this. “you cleared of your duties, go pack it was honor to watch you aviators work, Oh and prince thank you for your service during this time you will be a great addition to Top gun...Now go before I request you stay longer” he let out rare smile as the filtered out of his office completely surprised and slightly relieved. “I still don’t know how that son of a bitch Maverick is still going but hell gotta give it to him” He chuckled to himself before getting back to work.  

He never moved as fast, never packed as quick with the exceptions of carefully folding Belle drawings or letters and thing Peach had sent. But the rest was rushed and quickly thrown into his bags never so excited to go home and if he was it was never for this kind of reason.  He wasn’t the only one who was pack up and ready to go way too early in fact they all were. Sitting in the common room completely buzzing and excited to finally get home, few days earlier to because honestly if Admiral Cain had told them they were staying longer he would have joined Payback and swam home, floaties and all. First it was Bob joining him followed by Phoenix, then Payback and Prince not long after. All like excited children ready to go home after being away so no long especially prince he was there longer than them, he was thankful for the transfer being accepted although he had a feeling that Beau had a pull in that, he was also excited to meet Maverick, he was a legend in the Navy and even more so when he found out how well he was taking care of his little sister, almost like a father figure, he was also looking forward to meeting rest of dagger squad from stories he’s heard they were a great bunch of people all different in their own way. Especially one member he was excited to see where it went with Phoenix because hell, she sure made the last three month a lot better being in it.   

“Do we know where the stop off point is or?” Bob asked finally.  

“Nah, not a clue I'm sure they’ll let us know once we get on the chopper” Payback nodded.  

“Well, I don’t care where it is once we get home” Jake leaned back on the sofa; he was happy see the back of this ship that was for sure. Counting down the seconds till he was back in San Diego. When he was back with Peach and belle.  That was his main goal and sure as hell he was going to stick with it. The common room didn’t seem so bad given it was last time they were going to see it.  

When the chopper arrived, they were like children going down the hall, Phoenix and Payback pushing each other to be the first to get to the chopper while the three men laughed and chuckled waving goodbye to people as they passed by. Thank there wasn’t a wait, the chopper was sitting ways for them on the landing deck as was Admiral Cain giving them a salute his own thanks in a way for the work they had done while being deployed with him. Climbing was kind of weird sensation of someone else doing the flying but shit they weren’t going to complain at all. Prince knowing one of the pilots wasn’t a bad thing either and his Callsign coming into play as they lifted off the ground. Only this time the others joined in, all excited and happy to be going home shit that would get tune out of the toughest naval officer.   

“Hey sorry cut in the karaoke party but where we going first?” Jake chuckled at his friends off key and excited singing.    

“Stopping in Montana sir, then someone gonna drop you on the North Island tomorrow morning” one of the pilots explained.   

“What location of Montana?” bob spoke up slight hope in his voice. 

“Sir, I believe it is the Malmstrom Airforce base” making bob beam.  

“How long will it take to get there?” Bob asked once more.  

“we’ll land at about eighteen hundred, Sir”. 

“Hey, you think they’d let me head see my folks while we’re there” Bob turned to his friends.  

“Ain’t no harm in asking Baby on board” Hangman chuckled soft looking out the window, for once he got to sit back and watch the view. Enjoying the happy atmosphere and happy to be going home.  

Once they landed, they were shown to their temporary accommodation for the night before Bob was indeed granted permission to go see his folks for a few hours once he was back for midnight. To which they all went kill some time, hell even with the late impromptu dropping by they were treated to home cooked meal and listening to stories of Bob growing up, Hell even jake kept the wise cracks to himself and to Bob’s regret and horror when his mom pulled out the photo album knowing he wasn’t going to live it down for long time not when Phoenix and Hangman pulled out their phones to  take pictures also realization of having service one more and an idea forming in Hangman's head.  

“No one text peach, I wanna surprise her” he spoke up suddenly watching Nat stop typing before taping the phone repeatedly.  

“You gonna get the girl?” Payback knowing smile on his lips.  

“Let’s hope she doesn’t friendzone you again... I'm joking...kind of” Phoenix snorted when he flipped her off.  

“She’s a sucker for those soldiers coming home video’s so you might have a shot, But Bagman you hurt my sister and ya ass be in the ocean for whole other reason” Prince pats his back while Bob parents smiled, confused as hell but had a sense of the conversation.  

“So jake used to be a man whore, always stayed away from single moms because apparently messy” Phoenix start explaining ignore the “Hey” from the blonde.  

“Then we met Peach, his sister” Bob pointed to Prince. “At first Hangman was all like she can't be that cool when we talked about him, then he met her on the beach and well he was all flirty, she even made him land on his ass in the sand in dogfight football”.  

“Dogfight football?” his dad’s brow quirked.  

“Both defense and offense...anyway not the point, then ever since then he’s been hanging out with her, they got this like chemistry flirty banter going on” Bob continued recapping. “Her name is Y/N, but we call her peach and he’s hangman, but they call each other any fruit or game but their actual name, Jake head to her every morning to have breakfast with her and her little girl Belle who by the way is cutest toddler ever”.  

“He’s not wrong, you left out the part where he comforted her when she found out one of the superiors at the base is her biological dad even punched him” Phoenix quipped.  

“Or the fact she went to tell him she loved him, but he got his deployment papers so she friend zoned him instead” Payback laugh on to freeze as Phoenix and Bob shot him a look and Jake head snapped to so quickly he could of sworn the thing was going fly off his shoulders.  

“She what now? wanna run that back my friend?”  Jake crossed his arm raising his brow.  

“She was gonna to but freaked at the papers” Phoenix sighed knowing they couldn’t lie now, what they didn’t expect was the biggest grin to appear on his face.  

“Told ya not to give up” Prince shrugged getting second helping of the food in front of him.  

“Fill me in what happens next” Bob mom whispered to him and Nat as they quickly nodded.  

“She loves me back it’s all that matters” Jake beamed knowing he was getting his girl.  

That morning. 

It was a little before midnight when they got back to the base, all retreating to their beds, home cooked meal proving to be best thing for good night sleep even on the cot’s they were giving. Although it did take longer for Hangman thinking of the revelation and the fact of knowing she felt the same but shit when he did go asleep his was sleeping with big ole smile on his face. The next morning, he woke bright and early heading to the gym to kill some time, none of the female naval officer and their hungry eyes didn’t sway him hell it was like the new normal he barely even acknowledges their existence.  He had his goal, and it was fully letting Peach know the extent of what he felt for her, and he would spend his whole life to assure her, he wasn’t going anywhere. After few polite declines of phone numbers and advances, he walked to the cafeteria seeing the rest of them at the table Nat was busying talking on the phone, nodding like they could hear her before hanging up with smile.  

“Mav is getting Rooster and few of guys to come get us, they also won’t tell Peach a thing” she filled him in as he sat down beaming from ear to ear.  This smile was different, but it seemed to be a constant since she came into their lives, it was a genuinely happy smile on his face. “He and Mav will have her come to the tarmac when we land, you will be the first to land, so I hope you have something planned Bagman” she winked.  

“Not a thing but I'll think of something, hell I never thought I'd say this, but I can’t to wait to even see Bradshaw” he shook his head with a chuckle.  

“I’m more excited to see Belle she grown so much since I was deployed, she got her good looks from her mama side ...mainly me” Prince teased.  

“She’ll be in daycare when we get there but hey, I'm sure Peach will get her earlier with us home or maybe she won’t “payback wiggled his brows at Hangman.  

“Hey that’s still my little sister watch it” prince winced. “Hey once I don’t see my mom least for first day I'm there” he added.  

“Having a beer in the hard deck too” Payback sighed happily.  

“What me kicking your asses in pool or darts” Jake smirked. 

“Well, you might be too busy sucking face” Bob laughed.  

“Again guys, that’s still my little sister” Prince warned.  

The rest of the morning nothing eventful happen other than check in with the other dagger squad members, all excited and just ready to go, sitting in the hangar for an hour as they waited for Rooster and the others to show up when they heard the jets approaching in the distance well it definitely perked them up more and more the closer they got. When they landed, they headed out to the tar mac after thanking the commanding office for the accommodation and letting them wait there. As Rooster, Fanboy and Coyote ran up to them hug them and shaking Prince hand.  

“Flight suits are in the bags.... recruits the bags” Rooster yelled as they rushed forward with the sacks containing the flight gear.  “God, I love doing that, how was it?” he shook his head laughing. “Get those on you”. 

“How's Peach been?” Prince asked taking the flight suit from a recruit.   

“Keeping strong ain’t gonna lie she been miserable since they got deployed” he mainly meant Hangman.  

“Payback already blabbed” Phoenix shrugged. 

“She been more shaken up since running into her mom, I will say that” Fanboy spoke up.  

“Yeah, our mom has that effect” Prince said slight growl to his voice. 

“Yeah, well come on they let me take the carrier jet so all aboard Rooster air, please stay seated and no flash photography” he teased as they put their stuff in the under carriage, the large the C-17A Globemaster III. “ ain’t she a beauty, come on kid's field trip is over” he called to the recruits.  

“Great, mister take your time is driving, guess we’ll be home by tomorrow” Hangman playfully nudged.  

“Hey no refreshment or nuts for this guy” Rooster called out playfully. The jet ride wasn’t too bad although Hangman couldn’t resist ruffling Rooster feature but hell it past the time in ten minute he was going to see Peach, he was going to be home for that he couldn’t be more grateful.  

Present 

The moment the north island base came into view he felt it building inside him, knowing in mere minute he was getting off the jet and he was going to see her again. He barely listened to the back and forth with Rooster and control room. He barely acknowledged the flight well barely other than few quip here and there. When it landed, he waited in patiently unbuckling as quick as he could or ever done before. Then when he got on that tarmac surrounded by the hangar, he knew every nook and cranny of. He froze at first the dull engine sound cutting off he could hear her voice not the words she was saying but he could hear the tone, the sweet butter wouldn’t melt silky twang he loved so much and then he saw her and Mav. Three months of not seeing her made it like seeing her for first time. She didn’t look her usually cheerful self that much was sure but by God she was most beautiful woman he’s ever known. His feet moving closer, his throat was drying up at the sight of her, but one cough and he got the words out of his mouth.  

“Hey Cranberry” it was of course pure Jake Seresin fashion, but it was filled with affection and longing. Watching the confusion on her face at first and then the realization. He could of swore he saw her mouth something, but he didn’t get a chance to think more of it because she was running towards him like her life depended on it.  He could have sworn his heart was beating out of his chest and he took off meeting her halfway before he could even say anything else she jumped into his arm her lips crashing against his. Instantly not even a second hesitation he kissed her back feeling everything and anything in that moment. God every cliche felt accurate as he felt her lips against his, every fire work, puzzle piece connecting antidote just felt right and not enough all in one. Hold her up in his arms, feeling her body pressed against his, her scent in his nostril, all that screamed he was madly in love and finally home.  For what felt like no time at all a sound of a cough pulled them back, his eyes in hers and shit eating grin on his face.  

“I don’t wanna be friends, ok?” she sniffled overwhelmed and happier than she ever been in her life.  

“I don't think we’ve ever been just friend's sweetheart” soft kisses on her lips, completely forgetting the audience around them. But hell it was only ever her on his mind.

next part

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[erin-bo-berin]

Singlemom!reader ‘verse idea: how are the Reader and Nancy around each other? I like to think there would be some friction at first not only because of Steve but also because they are different paths in life but then they grow to respect each other.

Since I imagine this universe taking place at the same time/ages of everyone as season 4, we’re gonna pretend the Stancy things never happened this season as Steve’s already with the reader. But I imagine the first meeting was probably very awkward giving their history. A little blurb coming your way!

(Also I know this gif is weird with this and looks way more intimate than it should be for this fic but I’m sorry I love chest hair Joe so much lord have MERCY I GOTTA STAY FOCUSED)

Never in a million years would you have thought that one of the auntie’s to your child would be your boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend.

Of course, your relationship with Nancy Wheeler hadn’t always been so smooth sailing.

It wasn’t bad, but the relationship hadn’t been necessarily good either.

The first time you’d met her, you were on edge. Things didn’t come out the way they should’ve have due to your nerves and there had been plenty of tension. Perhaps, it was mostly on your part, but you’d felt pretty inferior to the beautiful petite brunette.

In most cases, partners’ exes were out of the picture, but Steve was still really good friends with his ex-girlfriend. It made you self-conscious. Not in a jealous way, though. You trusted Steve. You just felt plain and messy next to the done up Nancy.

You were in sweats and had your hair tied up, bags under your eyes from sleepless nights with a baby. Nancy was always put together, perky and off to college in the fall to pursue her dreams of being a journalist.

So, that being your mindset, you two didn’t exactly hit it off.

Steve had told you about their tumultuous history and quite confusing break up, leading to some unresolved feelings though that was before you’d met him. Still, your confidence in yourself seemed to take a hit around her.

She seemed curt, straight to the point and didn’t bother talking to you much other and instead spent most of the time talking to Steve. Your slight bitterness might’ve shown a bit.

All in all to say, it was awkward and embarrassing. You were very embarrassed to admit how your self esteem had plummeted because of her.

Future interactions were slightly better, but you were exactly the best of friends.

Turns out, all you needed was a little bit of your daughter’s help.

It had been an occasion where everyone decided to hang out at the Wheeler’s house. Kids and teens were spread out everywhere. Some of the boys were playing D&D downstairs, Max, Steve and Robin were playing videos games in the living room, you reading a book while they played. El and Nancy were in the kitchen, Nancy helping her mom bake cookies and El playing with your little girl.

You heard the crying before you heard your name being called.

You were immediately in the kitchen, seeing your little girl in Mrs. Wheeler’s arms.

“I’m afraid she had a little fall when she was toddling around the kitchen. Just a little bump, I think it scared her more than anything. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

You smiled and thanked her, taking the fussing infant into your arms.

“El, would you like to help me deliver these cookies to the boys downstairs?” Mrs. Wheeler asked, picking up two plates of fresh baked cookies, handing one to El.

They both headed down the stairs to the basement and you turned to head back to the living room with your daughter, when Nancy stopped you.

“Y/N? Can I talk to you for a moment?”

You turned back, seeing her twisting her hands in nervousness and found it odd. It’s not exactly like you’d had many conversations with her and none of them long at that.

“Please, sit,” she said, motioning to a chair across the table from where she’d just taken a seat.

You sat down, positioning the baby in your lap so she could still lay her head on her shoulder. She was due for a nap and knew she would be going down at any minute.

“I just wanted to apologize if I’ve made you uncomfortable or anything,” Nancy started.

“No, you—�� you began to protest.

“No, no. I wasn’t exactly the friendliest when we first met and I’m sorry about that. I can’t imagine how awkward it would be to meet your boyfriend’s ex and realize they’re a permanent part of their life.”

“It was a little…surprising,” you admitted warily.

“Steve and I are just friends though. You have nothing to worry about, okay? We dated a long time ago. But still, that doesn’t give me a right to treat you badly. It’s nothing against you either, I promise. It’s just, Steve means a lot to me.”

“I imagine,” you nodded.

“I’m as protective of him as any friend would be. I just want the best for him and was afraid he’d get hurt,” she shakes her head as if trying to stop her rambling, “I can’t apologize enough, Y/N. Even if we’re not friends, I want us to get along.”

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t dream of hurting him. We’re lucky to have him,” you nodded to your now sleeping angel on your shoulder, “But, I agree. I’d like to get along too.”

It was as if a truce was settled that day.

You two never had any ill intentioned feelings towards one another, you were just two very different people on two very different paths in life.

But over time, you did manage to become friends. After all, she did become an honorary auntie.

[rafeslvbug]

paediatrician!rafe finding out singlemom!reader has no support…

“alright then, i’ve given her her medication, we’ll wait a couple minutes and she should be good to go,” rafe murmurs, settling aurora into your arms again, watching with a smile as she sleepily looks up up at you, gummy grin and chubby fingers stretching out to you.

you let her close her fingers around your pinkie, her body still small as she’s only three weeks old prematurely, still not reaching how big she would have been at full term.

“thank you,” you tell him, voice a bit hoarse from having lost it to the past few nights of trying to shush her, and handling phone calls from the temporary hotel manager taking over from you, unsure on what to do and bothering you even more. tiredness had caught up to you, washing over you with each appointment and hour that passed.

concerned, his brows furrow at the sound of your voice, asking, “lost your voice?”. he takes a seat opposite you, resisting the urge to stretch a hand out, fingers tapping against his knee.

you nod, stroking back aurora’s hair and repositioning her head while you lightly laugh, “yeah, i’ve had to yell over her wails and try to get through to this temporary hire who’s taking over my job. they keep calling me thinking i’m just on sick leave or something.”

you hoped he would laugh. you hoped it would ease the pinch in his brows but it only deepened it. “you could get your husband to do it- or sorry- aurora’s father?” he corrects himself, not wanting to make an assumption.

lips pursed, you shake your head. “no husband. dad’s not in the picture, didn’t want a kid i’m sure,” you mutter bitterly.

“oh..that’s shitty, he’s an asshole..” realisation dawns on him, how you were alone during labour, alone when he came to see you the first time, alone when you came in crying about aurora’s restlessness. you’ve always been alone. “parents?” he asks, praying that you had that at least, but he felt the answer you were about to give gnawing at his chest.

offering him a soft smile, you shake your head, “no..they uhm, they really liked my ex. thought i should have got an abortion but i wanted kids so..is that selfish?” you don’t notice how his eyes darken, focusing on the guilty look that flashes across your face.

“no.” he grits out, shaking his head firmly. “don’t think for a second that you’re selfish, you’re not, and they’re all jerks for leavin’ you,” he continues, running his hand over his face.

letting out an appreciative hum, you keep on admiring aurora, noting every little feature and how special she is.

“see? how could that be selfish?” he murmurs, causing you to snap your head up with a confused look, letting out a little “huh”.

“you’re only thinkin’ about her, you care about her. that’s not selfish, you’re riskin’ a lot just to have this girl in your life,” he walks over, slowly taking her from your arms to check how her medicine is working.

he glances down at you, glittering blue eyes and a shared soft smile, before handing her back to you. “all good,” he mutters, before moving to his computer.

“just out of curiosity,” he calls out before you leave through the door. “what’s his name? your ex?” he raises his eyebrows, looking up from his computer.

you cock your head, stepping closer to him, “why?”

he grins and shakes his head, typing something down, “no reason.”

wary, and beginning to let a fatigued giggle escape your lips as you walk a bit closer, setting aurora’s carrier down with her in it and trying to get a glimpse of what’s he’s feverishly typing. “rafe what are you typing?”

“nothing! you can’t look at the doctor’s computer,” he laughs, hiding his screen as his hands come to your shoulders, softly spinning you around and handing aurora to you.

“rafe..” you warn over your shoulder and he only shrugs coyly, opening the door for you and giving you a little wave as you leave. not before calling after to you, “hey! remember though, you have me to help, if you need it.” you smile, mouthing another “thank you” to him before you’re leaving through the double doors, out the hospital.

when he returns to his computer he opens up the watch file he was creating, for a certain baby daddy who left his beautiful girlfriend and cute daughter - a man about to be banned from the premises.

taglist: @starkeyjoseph @rafesbabygirlx @slut-4-rafey @lanaslushworld @littlelamy @rain-likes-purple @sunny1616

[haileygarciasunshine]

Kids will be kids

Pairing: Loki x SingleMom!Reader

Word Count: 881

Warning: There’s one swear lol

Summary: The reader brings her daughter to work. Taking the reader by surprise she takes a particular liking to an unlikely person.

Taglist

Loki Masterlist

“It should be done by tonight!” Tony beamed.

You and Bruce nodded in agreement. “I’d say so.”

Smiling, the sense of relief washed over you. The project at hand was something you, Bruce and Tony had been working on for the past few months. It was a new A.I. System that Tony wanted to make. This one would be different from all the rest he made, since it would have signatures from you and Bruce.

“Celebratory dinner?” Tony questioned, standing up from his chair at his desk. “I’m buying.”

“I’ll have to let my sitter know.” You smiled.

“No way!” Bruce piped up. “Bring my niece here. I miss her!”

Tony cleared his throat. “Uhm. I think you me our niece.”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “You know what I meant.”

“Uh oh.” You sighed. “I have missed calls from the sitter. Excuse me.”

Promptly you stood up, dialing the babysitters number as you existed the room. Your babysitter had decided to quit and was on her way to the tower to drop your daughter off.

Letting a frustrated sigh out, you stepped outside. This was the third nanny that had quit in three months. Stella was barely in her toddler years, she wasn’t even in the walking stages yet.

Crossing your arms you chose to sit on a nearby bench, letting the fresh air cleanse you as you awaited the arrival of your daughter.

Walking back into the lab, Tony and Bruce’s face both lit up with happiness and joy the second their eyes fell upon Stella.

Cooing over her, she let out a joyful shriek while clapping her hands together.

“Let’s go make the rest of the team jealous shall we?” Tony spoke, as he silently asked to hold her. Handing her over to him, you walked behind both men in silence listening to them talk to each other and Stella.

The team was over come with happiness the minute all of you, stepped foot into the kitchen. You were no stranger to the team, since you worked there practically everyday along side two of your closest friends.

They took you and Stella under their wing, making sure to spend time with the both of you whenever they could.

Due to recent events, you hadn’t been able to spend as much time with them as you’d like to.

The teams visit with Stella was cut short, as they were called to help stop a new enemy. Everyone on the team quickly gave you a hug before bolting down the hallway. Tony and Bruce both have you a kiss on the cheek, before closely following the rest of the team.

Gazing at your daughter who was now in your arms, you thought you’d read her a book. Headed to the library, you expected it to be empty. Walking in, the sweet aroma of musk and wood filled your senses. It was always one of your favorite smells, it felt like home.

The sudden excited girgle from Stella, pulled you out of your trance. Following her gaze, your eyes fell on a black haired man. Someone the team, disliked and distrusted.

“L...Loki?” Your stutter filling the room, causing heat to rise in your cheeks in slight embarrassment. Your gaze falling to the bookshelf in front of you.

The sound of shuffling filled the air, as your turned towards the direction of the movement, only to be met with Loki.

“Hello, Y/N.” He greeted the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. “Who might you be little one?”

“This is Stella.” You introduced.

Taking a half step forward, he leaned down slightly to play with your daughter. Surprising you, Stella quickly wrapped her fingers around a lock of Loki’s hair.

“Shit.” You mumbled. “Stella, you have to let go.”

This only made her, knot her fingers into his hair more. A groan fell from your lips.

“Here. Why don’t you hold her.” You stated, moving to hand your daughter to Loki. The realization dawned on you, of everything Loki had done in the past. Fear raced through your veins. Shaking your head, you knew there was no other way.

Taking ahold of your daughter, she let out a high pitched happy shriek.

“I’m....I’m sorry.” You mumbled, glancing at your shoes as your hand began rubbing up and down your bicep. “I forgot to tell you, her favorite thing to do is play with peoples hair.”

He chuckled slightly. Gazing at him, he seemed to be amused by Stella. “It’s quite alright, I don’t mind.” He beamed while holding her.

“She...She doesn’t usually like new people.” You mumbled in awe, watching your daughter happily tug and tangle her fingers into the God of Mischief hair.

Standing in the library, you watched your daughter happily girgle at the raven haired man. 

Everyday after the in counter, Loki grew more and more curious about yourself and your daughter. With each intriguing conversation you had, the more you developed feelings for him. Walking in the lab, there was a single rose laying across your desk, with a note card tied onto it.

Picking up the flower, you brought it to your nose. The sweet fresh floral aroma filled your nose. Opening the card it, you recognized the hand writing.

‘Dinner tonight at 6, the three of us?’ -Loki

[romanoffjohansson]

JOJO: A Natasha Romanoff Story

summary:  Y/n is a single mom to her 5 year old daughter, JoJo. What happens when JoJo brings Natasha into Y/n’s life after an almost tragic event?

Chapters:

Chapter One: The Park

Chapter Two: Fascinated

Chapter Three: Busy

Chapter Four: Drive

Chapter Five (coming soon)

One Shots, Drabbles & Headcannons:

(coming soon)

[princehrry-writings]

Legal Guardian

ugh this took way too long lol, but here it is!!! i forget exactly that sparked this but i thought it was a cute idea.

warnings: injuries (nothing major), hospitals, cursing, harry being a protective dad 🥺, talks about adoption and legal guardians, crying

wordcount: 2481

harry styles x reader, stepdad!harry x reader, stepdadharry x oc!stella

masterlist

Stella gets hurt and Harry is the only one there- but he has no legal jurisdiction…

.

.

.

It all happened really fast. Harry can’t even recall how it started, but he knew very well how it ended. A sobbing Stella strapped into her car seat as he raced to the emergency room, frantically calling Y/n who was in a different state on a work trip.

The 5 year old didn’t understand what was going on, she just knew she was hurting… really bad. And that she wanted her mommy and daddy.

The traffic seemed to be working against him, getting in his way at the most inconvenient times, all the while he was trying to console his weeping daughter, crying out “Daddy it hurts so bad!” effectively shattering his heart into a million little pieces.

Stella had been playing happily in the backyard at home, showing off her wonderful dance moves to Harry who watched with an adoring smile on his face, taking little videos to send to his fiance, when suddenly she was laying on the ground, clutching her ankle, and crying for him to come get her. He rushed into action, not having seen her take the fateful step into what must have been a hole in the ground or something.

Screeching into the hospital car park, he stops somewhere he obviously wasn’t supposed to but he couldn't care less. His mind was racing. What if she broke her ankle? Or tore a ligament? What if she has to get surgery? All of this is what he worries about as he flings the back door of his car open, trying his best to appear calm for his daughter (but it’s not really working), and scoops her carefully into his hold, bringing her inside and shouting for someone to please help him.

A few nurses rush to his side, asking him different questions and asking for someone to “Page Dr. Robbins, tell her we need a peds consult.”

Stella is whisked away from him and before he can start to follow after her, a hand is placed on his chest, stopping him in his place.

“Sir, we can’t have you in the room with her. You’re not on her file as a legal guardian!” A doctor tells him. In that moment, he sees nothing but red, steam pouring out of his ears.

“The hell I can’t, I’m her father! I’m not going to let her sit in there all alone while strangers poke and prod at her!” He all but yells at the man. Harry is not violent. He really isn't. But he’s not afraid to lay somebody on their ass when it comes to his girls. With kindness or course. And maybe a black eye.

From the room she was taken into he can hear her crying for him.

“Wan’ my daddy! Daddy!” Harry didn’t think his heart could break any further than it already had but he was proven wrong by the ache in his chest that only grew stronger the longer he was kept away from his lovebug.

“Doctor, respectfully- if you don’t move the hell out of my way, I will move you myself. That is my daughter, and my fiance is in a different state right now on a business trip so I am the only parent she has right now. If you try to keep me from my child I will take legal action against the hospital and sue for everything you’re worth. Now if you’ll excuse me.” Harry is seething, trying to move past the man in the white lab coat and light blue scrubs. Again, he is stopped.

“I will call security, sir!”

“DADDY!” Stella is now screeching, her little voice hoarse from all the yelling and crying.

“Don’t you fucking hear that? She needs me, and you’re telling me I can’t go be with her! What the hell kind of doctor are you?” Harry is in the man's face, pointing at him vehemently. He doesn’t care that people are starting to watch the scene. Doesn’t care that some people have recognized him and are recording the ordeal. Let the people see him fighting for his family. He doesn’t give a rat's ass if his “image” takes a hit. His daughter is on the line and he won’t back down.

“She’ll be fine-”

“No she won’t! Go ahead and call security. My daughter needs me and you’re not going to stop me from being in that room with her.” With that he pushes past the doctor (who must be an intern or something with how he’s handling this situation) and rushes into the room where his baby is screaming for him. He’s at her side in a matter of seconds, wiping the tears from her face, peppering kisses onto her head, petting her wild hair back from her face, just consoling her in any way that he can.

How fucking dare they try to keep him from her, especially when she’s in a state like this.

“It’s ok baby girl, daddy’s here now. I’ve got you. You’re ok, you’re ok!” He mumbles into her hair, doing his best to stay out of the way of the people examining her but still close enough so she knows he’s right there with her.

Little tears still streamed down her face but she was much calmer now, her breathing more even and body less tense.

“Mr. Styles we’re bringing in the portable x-ray to take a look at her ankle, so you’re going to need to wear this.” He nods and takes the vest given to him, putting it over his shoulders like he sees the others do. A similar article is placed over Stella, who is clinging to Harry’s hand, fearing that she’s going to have to be without him again. But he promises he isn’t going anywhere.

As they’re taking the x-ray his phone starts ringing in his pocket and he checks to see that it’s Y/n calling him back.

“H, what’s wrong, is she ok?” Her panicked voice rushes out as soon as the call connects.

“We’re in the ER right now and she’s getting an x-ray to see what’s going on with her ankle-”

“You’re in the room with her right? She’s not alone?”

The little shards of his heart keep breaking into smaller and smaller pieces as her voice breaks.

“Yeah, I’m right next to her. Don’t worry m’love, she’s not alone!” He glared at the doctor that tried to keep him out as he said that, letting him know he hadn’t forgotten.

“I’m gonna facetime you so I can see her.” She said and he nodded, waiting for it to come through. When it did he quickly accepted it, seeing the love of his life’s face on the screen, with her puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks as she wiped away the remaining tears so she didn’t freak out her baby.

“Stell, mumma’s on the phone, she wants to talk to you.”

“Hi baby girl!” Y/n said as soon as Harry held the phone so Stella could see her mom. The little girl's tear stained cheeks looked exactly like her moms, and her heart broke for her baby.

“Hi mumma,” Stella pouted into the camera, clutching onto her daddy as tight as her little hand could. Harry was a little uncomfortable but he would take this over not being in here at all.

“How do you feel, baby? You ok?” She asked.

“My foot hurts and they wouldn’t let daddy in here and I was scared, but he’s here now so I’m ok.” The little girl rambled off. Y/n almost missed how she said they wouldn’t let Harry in the room but when it finally registered, she was fuming. Absolutely, royally pissed.

“What do you mean they wouldn’t daddy in there?” Stella shrugged and looked up at Harry for an answer. He brought the phone back so he could see her after looking around at the doctors in the room, all doing their job and pretending they weren’t listening to this conversation, but a few of them winced when Y/n asked her question.

“Some bloke tried to keep me out of the room while Stella was being examined but she was on the verge of a whole breakdown. It was like Disneyland in Paris all over again.” He said, referencing the time Harry took his girls to Disneyland while they were in Paris and Stella got separated from her mom and dad. She had never not been able to see at least 1 of her parents before. Needless to say… she didn’t handle it very well. Screaming, crying, and hyperventilating (which freaked her out even more- causing her to scream louder and cry harder) ensued very shortly, disturbing every person around her. But it made it easy for them to find her and she spent a very very long time clutching her tiny arms around her daddy’s neck, not letting him set her down for anything. That was an interesting trip to the bathroom …

“Why would they try to keep you out of the room? You’re her father!” Y/n was on the verge of popping a blood vessel. Of course the one time her baby really needs her, she’s hours away.

“Uh, Mr. Styles, I’m so sorry to interrupt! But the x-ray is complete. There’s no break, it looks like a sprain at worst. Also, about why my intern was saying you weren’t allowed in the room, not that I was listening to your conversation, with ped’s cases we typically only allow legal parents or guardians in the room and your name isn’t anywhere on her file or on her records so he was just trying to follow safety protocols. He didn’t go about the situation as well as he should have because we always want to make sure our patient has what they need and that was obviously you- but that is the reason why you initially weren’t let into the room. You’re not a legal parent or guardian. Based on your situation- you’re legally considered a step-parent and that title doesn’t come along with any legal jurisdiction.” Dr. Robins explained, in quite a few words Harry thinks, but he doesn’t say anything about it. Just sits and realizes that while for the better part of a year and a half, he’s been calling himself Stella’s dad but the whole he’s not been anything… not legally anyway.

Y/n realizes this too and makes a mental note to call their lawyers to do something about that.

“That makes sense… Thank you, Dr. Robbins! I have her mum on the phone, but you knew that, so if there’s anything else I legally can’t do, she’ll have to take care of it like thi-”

“Mr. Styles, we won’t tell if you don’t! Anything else that needs to be signed, we’ll just go ahead and have you do it. Save the hassle for everyone.” Dr. Robbins interrupts him and he smiles, silently thanking her.

“Daddy, what's a legal guardian?” Stella asks after a quiet moment.

“A legal guardian is someone who takes care of you because the law says they can. So because I didn’t help mumma make you and I came into your life a little later, I’m not a legal guardian of you. Not yet anyway.” He mumbles the last part but Y/n catches it.

“Does everyone have a legal guardian?” She hiccuped, rubbing at her eyes with the hand that wasn’t clutching Harry’s.

“At one point yeah, but once you get older you don’t need one anymore because you can take care of yourself.”

The girl pauses, thinking about her daddy’s words before muttering “Don’t wanna take care of myself. Wanna stay with you and mumma forever.”

All the little shards of his heart slowly start to piece back together.

“I want you to stay with me and mumma forever too lovebug.” He cooes. Y/n’s eyes light up, her gaze filled with adoration for her little family.

. * .

*

“The documents are all drawn up Mrs. Styles, everything is ready for your husband to sign.”

“Thank you so much Ben!”

. * .

*

“Baby, c’mere. Wanna talk to you about something.”

“Yeah mommy?”

Y/n took a deep breath, trying to quell the tears she could already feel threatening to fall. Her newly wed husband sat beside her on the couch, running his hand along her back and squeezing her shoulder and letting her know he was there if she needed him.

“Do you remember when you and Daddy had that conversation about legal guardians?” The woman asked, pulling her baby into her lap, brushing her hand over the girl's hair affectionately.

“Uhhh, kinda.” She murmured, curling into her mom.

“Do you remember what a legal guardian is?” Y/n rephrased, hoping to jog the girl's memory. Stella nodded and when prompted by her mother explained that “It’s someone who takes care of you until you're old enough to take care of yourself.”

“That’s right baby, very good!”

“And do you remember when we were at the hospital and that doctor was being mean, not letting Daddy into the room with you?” Harry chimes in, scooting closer to his girls. She nodded with a roll of her eyes and a huff of breath, causing a little giggle to erupt from her parents. She really is her mothers daughter.

“Didn’t like him.” She mumbles.

“Do you remember why they didn’t let him into the room?” Y/n asks, knowing she should probably get to the point before her little one checks out and gets bored.

“Cause daddy’s not my legal guardian.” Stella huffs again, rubbing her eyes and nuzzling further into her mom.

“Do you want him to be?”

Stella’s quiet for a moment, tapping her little finger on her chin like she’s thinking hard. “Yeah.”

“Yeah? You want that baby?” Harry asks, pulling her into his lap. The girl wraps her arms around his neck and lays her head on his shoulder, nodding.

“Yeah, Daddy. Want you to be able to come to the doctors with me.” She mumbles sleepily.

The tears Y/n had been fighting off finally broke through, despite her efforts. It’s official. Harry is going to adopt Stella and they would be a family in every sense of the word. No one would be able to take Harry's little girl away from him. All he had to do was sign the paper. Harry felt tears spring to his eyes as well, smoothing his hand along his baby’s back.

“You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear that…” He says, squeezing her a little tighter. Y/n snaps a quick picture before she snuggles into them.

“Love you Mommy, love you Daddy.” She murmurs before falling asleep in Harry's arms. Something that isn’t new, but feels different now for some reason. Things felt a little more official and he hadn’t even signed the papers yet.

[endearng]

Stranger Danger

Pairing: Spencer Reid x single mom!reader Summary: The power goes out. You and your daughter leave your apartment to find some light. Luckily, a stranger floods your being with it. WC: 2.1k Warnings: reader is scared of the dark; light mentions to stranger danger; it's a meet cute (guilty). Let me know if I missed anything. A/N: HI!!! I couldn't sleep so I decided to finish and post this one. I hope you guys enjoy it. Totally planning on a sequel for these three. Feedbacks are highly welcomed and appreciated. <3 neighbor!au masterlist | main masterlist

Spencer Reid was the most unnoticed and absent tenant of his building. His apartment was almost eerily quiet during most of the time, because of two main reasons. One, he was out of town often because of his job, of course, and, two, he didn't do much when he was there. He was a man who kept to himself whose idea of fun consisted of reading classic Literature. And don't take it the wrong way; not being around much didn't mean that he disliked his place, it was quite the opposite. He thoroughly enjoyed having a space to call his own, to organize, to cramp up the areas just the way he liked it. It gave him a sense of comfort, even though it felt lonely more often than not.

One of his neighbors had a child, he could tell that much because of the noises he would hear when he was around — while playing or the whining when she wanted something, after all, that's how kids usually behave. Spencer didn't mind them, of course, he was away for most of the time, so it wouldn't be rational to be bothered by a child acting like one. It was like being annoyed by an adult acting out, which did happen, but adults were supposed to be more self-aware than kids.

Although fairly acquainted with the routine of the family by putting pieces together from time to time (something his brain couldn't help but do, almost automatically), he had never seen their faces. He knew their voices and could even tell their footsteps apart. Sometimes, he would think about them. How did their day go, if everything was alright, if they ever addressed uncomfortable topics, if they ever had problems like his own frequently faced after they discovered about his mother's condition. He was acutely aware of the fact that those thoughts were the results of some sort of projection, almost like those neighbors were his personal novel to read and he longed to relate to its characters, because so much of his childhood had been ripped from him in ways he worried he could never recover from and terribly soon — he didn't remember ever knowing the sense of a loving, ordinary family like they apparently did and lived.

Today was a day off. He sat on his balcony, the summer breeze kissing his skin and messing up his hair, writing a letter to his mother. He tried his best to remain true to the commitment of making her a part of his life as a way to ease the guilt and sadness that gnawed at him for not being capable of caring for her properly by himself. He dearly missed Diana, he was his mother, after all. The only one who stood by him, even if not at her best, the only family he had left.

Satisfied with his writing, he finished the letter with a promise that he'd visit her soon. As he was folding the paper to put it inside the envelope, everything went black. The light left completely and, for a moment, he thought he had fainted because of the suddenness of it. That's when he heard the shrieking coming from the apartment next door and with a small chuckle, he deduced it was a power outage.

"Oookay, we don't need to panic, Oli, right? The light will be back in a few moments," he heard from the balcony next to his. It was the mother's voice, surely.

"Mommy, 'm scared," the little girl, Olivia, cried.

"I know, baby, but mommy is right here," was the answer provided, followed by the sound of a loud and exaggerated kiss. He heard the little girl giggle. "That's better, sweetie. Come on, let's talk. How are you feeling?"

"'m scared, but happy that you're here, mommy," she said.

"I'm happy to be with you, too, my girl," the woman cooed.

Spencer all but listened to the sweet interaction close to him. Unbeknownst to the woman, he held it even closer to his heart. It was one of the purest forms of love he had ever witnessed and he was grateful for them both during that time.

You, on the other hand, felt panic rising in your chest as the minutes passed and the dark still engulfed you, your little girl's voice the only comfort soothing you from time to time. Olivia was really scared of the dark, so as time went by, you tried to assure her that there was nothing to be scared of, and even if she was, she shouldn't feel embarrassed, that it was okay to express those feelings and that you were there for her. You were glad that she trusted you enough to believe those empty words, because you were terrified of the dark.

It all started as a kid. Not knowing what could be lurking in the shadows absolutely freaked you out and admiting it out loud was mortifying, so you did your best to hide it. If your daughter's reaction was anything to go by, you were doing a good job, so you relished on that.

Right now, it was becoming more and more difficult to play the part of the brave, fearless mother. So you started singing, soon enough followed by your daughter.

Super trouper lights are gonna blind me

But I won't feel blue like I always do

'Cause somewhere in the crowd there's you

Olivia giggled. It was one of her favorite songs, you had introduced it to her when she was too shy before one of her recitals. She had only memorized the chorus, of course. You were forever thankful for having that song engraved in your memory, because now the footage you had from said recital had Olivia showing all her moves looking right at you, basically all of the time.

"Oli, what do you think of going to the lobby? Maybe we could find some friends there." You suggested, which made Spencer's interest rise. Could it be a chance for him to finally address faces to the family he almost felt a part of?

For someone so bright, he truly didn't know if he was overstepping or being obsessive, it just made sense to him. Like aforementioned, he felt like it was a novel.

He heard little hands clapping excitedly and heard the next door opening and then closing right after. He used the time to think if he was behaving like the creeps he profiled for a living, but decided to give himself some credit by realizing he didn't mean to do no harm, he was just curious.

As time went by, the lobby soon became crowded with people and basically everyone had a flashlight on. It made Spencer laugh internally. He searched the area for a woman and a little kid, but no success. The room was so packed it almost felt suffocating and for a moment he felt ridiculous for considering searching a room for someone whose face he wasn't familiar with. What was he thinking? His mother always said that his job should stay out of his personal life and he had yet to learn that. So, he decided to go outside for a breath of fresh air.

What he didn't expect was to find a woman and a little girl sitting on the benches just outside the apartment complex. Their voices sounded exactly like the ones he had been noticing for some time now. He froze, unable to look away from them.

The girl had her mother's features. They were so scarily alike that it felt like he was watching the same person during different periods of her life, but simultaneously, as if he was on some sort of time travel.

He was ripped out of his daydreams when the little girl came running towards him, "Look, mommy! He has a letter! You send them to grandpa!"

Although very embarrassed by your daughter's sudden run, you jumped on your feet to catch up with her. You didn't know that man, so it only made sense to be very alert and to keep your child away from him. As you neared the two of them, you placed your hands on Oli's shoulders, who was standing in front of him, you took in his appearance. He was tall, a little lanky and had long-ish hair, cut just around his shoulders. He had dress pants and a shirt loosely buttoned up as well. His eyes were searching your face, as if he was scanning you as well. The poor lighting didn’t help either of you, but you two were almost touching with your eyes, if such a thing were possible, from how much you were looking, almost admiring each other.

Amid his thoughts from earlier, he didn't even realize he was still holding the letter he had written that afternoon.

"Hi," you greeted, a little awkwardly, "I'm sorry. She’s still learning about stranger danger. Or bothering people." You chuckled, nervously.

What the hell have you just said?

"Actually, stranger danger did the most harm to this country in terms of crimes like that. I remember them coming to my classroom. It was Officer Friendly with stranger danger coloring books. Taught a whole generation about a scary man in a trench coat, hiding behind a tree. Then we learned that strangers are only a fraction of the offenders out there." He rambled.

What the hell has he just said?

You knitted your eyebrows together, perceiving his comment as peculiar, to say the least. "Well, yeah."

"Sorry about that. I tend to ramble about some topics. I'm not a creep, I swear. I work with the FBI, I know it can be odd to start a conversation like that. Well, your daughter did," he chuckled, albeit tensely, "My name's Spencer. Spencer Reid. I live in this building. Third floor."

You laughed a little over his rambling, relief flooding your body once you realized that he was just a regular guy. A regular guy that worked for the FBI. You told him your name and Olivia's as he offered you a friendly handshake, "Me and Olivia live there, too."

"MOMMY!" Olivia shouted, sounding exasperated and thrilled at the same time. "He is the ghost neighbor!"

"Ghost neighbor?" He asked, shocked and a little humored.

You laughed at your daughter and the confusion adorning his beautiful features. "Oli, don't scream. We already talked about it," you addressed your daughter, firmly but gently. Spencer was in awe. "It's just an inside joke between the kids. You're almost never home and every once in a while they hear some sounds coming from your apartment. They say a ghost lives there. They even put up some decorations on your front door on Halloween, but I decided to remove it in case it bothered you."

Olivia laughed like someone had spilled a funny secret and Spencer quickly joined her. You chuckled, even though you were more puzzled than anything by the fact that your daughter had approached, so confidently, a stranger. It made you both terrified and happy. Terrified because he could be a weirdo. Happy because she was able to come out of her shell. Even happier to see her coming out of her shell with a nice stranger.

"It’s alright. I wouldn’t have minded. I love Halloween.” He said, addressing you. You could tell then that, at least, he wasn’t someone bitter. “Sorry to disappoint, Miss Olivia. It's just me moving some chairs every now and then. But I won't tell if you won't."

"I won't!" She squealed, and Spencer smiled. You couldn't draw your eyes away from their exchange. Olivia balled her small fists on your skirt, pulling you out of your reverie, so you crouched down at her height. She whispered something in your ear. Spencer watched, curiously, as you nodded at her.

"She said you need a pinky promise." You told him once you were standing again. Spencer gladly crouched and stuck out his pinky towards Olivia, who intertwined her own with his.

"Now we can't tell anybody." He said, with a genuine smile on her face.

"Mommy, you hafta promise it too." Olivia said, grabbing your hand and pulling your pinky toward Spencer's hand, linking them together. You felt the heat rising to your face.

The power came back. Suddenly, your pinky was linked to a very handsome man who you had just met because of your one-of-a-kind daughter. It made you nervous, because the light highlighting his beautiful features in all the right places made you feel like a deer caught in the headlights. By looking at him alone, you thought of words related to the light four times. As he looked back at you with a gorgeous smile on his face, you finally understood why people associate light with feelings.

divider by @cafekitsune <3

[wildflowersandvibranium]

Honey & Steel- Series

Chapter Four: The Wedding

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x SingleMom!Reader

Series Summary: "A chance encounter in a broken elevator ties together the lives of a hardened , emotionally closed off CEO James Barnes and a struggling single mother balancing her daughter , her new job , healing old wounds , and building something neither of them expected , a family."

Content/Warnings: Single Parenting Themes , Fluff & Domesticity , Mild Language Soft Angst

a/n: Bucky meets our sweet Madelyn! If you are enjoying this story i have a singledad cowboy fic coming soon heres the teaser! also follow and turn notifs on for my side notifactions only blog @notifs-wildflowersandvibranium!

series masterlist⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪read on ao3

<- previous chapter next chapter->

Saturday — Y/N’s Apartment | 9:17 a.m.

It was a warm, sticky, freshly over-baked cinnamon roll kind of morning. The air in the apartment clung to the skin like sugar syrup, lazy and comforting, carrying with it the unmistakable scent of browned sugar, melting butter, and something floral from the laundry that had dried overnight.

The kind of morning where the sunlight didn’t just shine—it spilled. It oozed through the kitchen window in a thick amber glow, landing perfectly on the linoleum like it had been painted there. Not too bright, not too hot. Just enough to make the chrome faucet sparkle and the dust in the air shimmer like glitter.

Madelyn’s wild caramel-colored curls were extra springy, a tangle of light and chaos framing her face, catching tiny specks of flour that dusted the tips like confetti. The apartment smelled like vanilla and whipped butter, with a faint background note of laundry detergent—like comfort itself had baked into the air.

Y/N stood at the stove in fuzzy green socks printed with little cartoon frogs, one sliding slightly as she shifted her weight. Her baggy T-shirt clung to one shoulder, the cracked logo on the front half-peeling like it had stories of its own. Her pajama pants—faded plaid and well-worn at the seams—dragged just slightly on the floor, soft and threadbare from a hundred washes.

Behind her, perched cross-legged on the edge of the counter like it was her throne, Madelyn hummed off-key to a half-remembered cartoon theme song. Her arms were dusted in flour past her elbows, little white handprints on her leggings, her nose smudged with a dot of dough she hadn’t noticed yet.

“Careful, baby,” Y/N warned, glancing over her shoulder with the edge of a knowing smile as she slid the tray into the oven. The warmth rushed out in a soft wave, fogging the oven door slightly. “You launch yourself off that counter and you’re gonna be grounded until you're thirty.”

“I’m stuck,” Madelyn said, voice sing-song and full of mischief, her lips curling into a grin she knew would win. “You have to rescue me, Mommy.”

“Again?” Y/N groaned, drawing the word out in theatrical exasperation as she reached for her. She lifted her daughter off the counter, arms wrapped under her tiny frame and swung her around like a sack of potatoes, feet flailing midair.

Madelyn squealed, laughter spilling from her lungs so loud and sharp it echoed off the walls. Piggy, her well-loved plush pig, nearly slipped from her grip in all the excitement.

“Well, there’s one thing for sure,” Y/N said as she planted her daughter gently on the floor, then reached down to tap her nose. “You are one hundred percent mine.”

The cinnamon rolls didn’t even have a chance to cool properly. Once out of the oven, still dangerously hot in the center, they were plated up and shared between mother and daughter as they sat on the couch—knees touching, fingers sticky with icing, giggles bouncing between bites.

No TV. Just quiet conversation, gentle laughter, and frosting-smeared mouths. It was the kind of morning Y/N lived for. Days like this reminded her what mattered.

Sure, she loved working for Steve and Bucky. Her job was challenging, important. But this—right here—was what she was made for.

Eventually, they pulled themselves together with the reluctance only a lazy Saturday morning could create. Madelyn let out a long, dramatic groan when she realized the laundry wouldn’t fold itself. But they got to it, eventually.

Disney songs blared through the Bluetooth speaker, and they sang—loudly, proudly, and slightly off-key—while folding socks and matching them into uneven little bundles. They built a massive pillow fort in the living room with the couch cushions and mismatched sheets from their bedrooms, adding twinkle lights and stuffed animals like it was their personal castle.

And of course, there was dancing.

Because no mom-and-daughter stay-at-home day was complete without spinning barefoot around the coffee table until they were both out of breath and full of side-stitching.

By noon, Y/N was finally pushing herself to get dressed. Madelyn, still buzzing from the fort-building, changed into jeans and her favorite sparkly sweatshirt with the sequined cat. Y/N, meanwhile, trudged to her bedroom, sifting through hangers and clothes piled on the chair, looking for something clean and decent.

She had just pulled on a top when her smartwatch buzzed with a soft chime. A reminder.

She glanced down, read the message—and froze mid-step.

“Oh no.”

Madelyn was halfway through putting on a sock, hopping across the hall when she heard her mom’s voice. “What?”

“I left the contract files in my desk drawer at work. I was supposed to send them to Steve yesterday.”

Madelyn’s brow furrowed. “Can we go get them?”

Y/N knelt and helped with her sock, tucking it around her tiny foot with practiced ease. She hated bringing Madelyn to the office—it was sterile, too quiet, and not meant for glittery sweatshirts or sparkly hair clips.

But it was Saturday. The building would be empty. Quiet.

“Okay,” she sighed, standing up. “We’ll go pick up my things from my desk. But it’s only for five minutes. And you stay close, deal?”

“Deal.” Madelyn winked, grabbing her sneakers with a triumphant skip while Y/N grabbed her coat and bag.

12:46 p.m. — Barnes Medical Prosthetics Co.

The building was nearly silent.

Their footsteps echoed softly as they passed through the glass-fronted lobby, polished marble gleaming beneath their shoes. Y/N held Madelyn’s hand tightly, her thumb stroking the back of her daughter’s fingers as they walked by the empty reception and toward the security desk.

She flashed her badge. The guard, half-asleep and sipping his third coffee, barely glanced before giving a nod of approval.

The elevator ride up was quiet. Madelyn clutched her bunny, Snowball, in one arm, her other hand in Y/N’s as they stepped into the silent halls upstairs.

Madelyn’s eyes widened, drinking in the sleekness around her. The smooth gray walls. The frosted glass partitions. The stainless steel door handles and subtle lighting.

“Mommy, it looks like a robot school,” she whispered.

Y/N snorted. “Not far off, sugar bear.”

They reached her small office tucked near the end of the hallway. Y/N unlocked the door, nudging it open with her hip, still holding Madelyn’s hand.

“Okay, sweetheart,” she said, her voice dropping into that soft, mom-tone. “You just sit tight while I grab this folder, and then we’re outta here. Ice cream after.”

Madelyn twirled, skipped into the room, and flopped dramatically into a swivel chair. She spun herself lazily, humming again.

Y/N smiled, turning to her desk. She opened the drawers, scanning for the bright blue folder marked Pending — Legal (INTL) and began flipping through the contents.

Three of five files reviewed—and that’s when she heard it.

A voice. Familiar. Deep. Low.

“…and if we review the adjusted patent terms on the updated extension—”

She sat up so fast she smacked her head on the corner of the desk. “Ow—shit,” she hissed, then turned toward the door.

Footsteps. Getting closer.

The boardroom door opened—and there he was.

Bucky Barnes.

Navy Prada suit. No tie. Black shirt unbuttoned at the collar. Hair slightly tousled, as though he’d run a hand through it on his way up the stairs.

He wasn’t supposed to be here. He never came in on weekends.

Three sharply dressed people followed behind him, still talking business. But Bucky had stopped. Dead in his tracks.

One of the men bumped into him, murmuring an apology. But Bucky didn’t even flinch.

Y/N stood frozen, folder clutched to her chest.

“Hi,” she managed, waving awkwardly. “Sorry—we were just grabbing something.”

Madelyn peeked out from behind her mom’s leg. Eyes wide. Ponytail crooked.

Then, without warning, she walked right up to him.

She stared—head tilted, eyes squinted in intense toddler scrutiny. Then she raised a finger.

“Why do you look like a mean guy?”

The hallway went still.

One of the execs coughed into his fist to cover a laugh. Another elbowed him hard.

Y/N gasped. “Madelyn—oh my God, I’m so sorry, she—”

Bucky blinked. Then opened his mouth.

“I’ll consider smiling next time.”

His voice was flat, but not cold. Just... dry. Controlled.

The silence cracked.

One of the executives snorted out a laugh before quickly walking away. The rest followed, and Bucky waved them off. “I’ll catch up with you all Monday.”

Then it was just him, Y/N, and Madelyn.

The little girl beamed up at him, completely unbothered by any awkwardness she’d caused.

Y/N looked mortified.

But Bucky knelt. Lowered himself to Madelyn’s height.

“I’m not actually mean,” he said gently. “Just quiet. But I’ll work on the smiling thing.”

Madelyn squinted again. Then nodded solemnly.

“You should get a bunny. We have one. Her name is Flopsy and she makes people smile.”

Y/N sighed, hand covering her mouth. But she couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Bucky said, straightening. Then to Y/N: “She’s got good instincts.”

“I swear she’s not usually so—”

“She’s fine.”

Y/N nodded, breathing for the first time in what felt like five full minutes.

“We’re just grabbing the file,” she said. “We’ll be out of your way.”

“Take your time,” Bucky replied. Then glanced down again. “What’s his name?” he asked, pointing at the white plush in Madelyn’s hand.

“Snowball,” she said proudly.

He smiled—actually smiled.

“Solid name.”

Then he turned, nodded once to Y/N, and walked off.

She watched him go, heart in her throat.

1:22 p.m. - Barnes Medical Prosthetics Co.

Y/N’s finger trembled slightly as she pressed the elevator button.

Madelyn, swinging their hands between them, looked up and declared, “I likes him.”

Y/N blinked. “You do?”

“Uh-huh. He talks like Batman.”

Y/N laughed. Real, belly-deep. “Maybe a little.”

They stepped out into the polished lobby. As they reached the doors, Y/N’s phone buzzed.

>>> Unknown Number: Tell your daughter I smiled five minutes after she left.

Y/N stared at the screen. No doubt who it was.

She read the message aloud, and Madelyn squealed, hugging Snowball to her chest. “I made the mean guy smile!”

“Looks like you did, munchkin.”

Y/N smiled, but her thoughts raced. Bucky must have pulled her number from her employee file after he left. They only ever communicated on their work chat app. She shook those thoughts down before they spiraled and she made up something that wasn't true. He was just letting Madelyn know she made him smile…and to do so he needed her number. That was it. All it was.

3:37 p.m. Y/N’s  Apartment

Once home , Y/N let out a breath as she kicked off her shoes , Madelyn darting past her with Snowball in one hand and Piggy who she scooped up on the couch in the other.

“I’m gonna make them get married!” she shouted gleefully as she ran into the living room bouncing on the rug.

Y/N laughed , tossing her purse on the side table.

She headed to her bedroom , unbuttoning her blouse as she went , peeling off her clothes in favor of her freshly clean and softest old sweatpants and a hoodie with frayed sleeves. The sigh that left her lips as she pulled her hair into a bun was a breathy praise.

When she stepped back into the hallway , she paused quietly not wanting to disturb her daughter.

Madelyn sat cross-legged on the rug in front of the TV stand , both Piggy and Snowball standing upright on either side of a flipped shoebox.

“This is where they kiss,” she whispered to them solemnly , pushing their plush faces together with both hands. “And now you’re married forever. That’s how it works.”

Y/N leaned against the doorframe , smiling so wide it hurt.

But by the time she grabbed a bottle of water and walked fully back into the room , the wedding was over—and the officiant had collapsed.

Madelyn was curled up on the couch , Piggy in the crook of one arm , Snowball in the other. Her hair was still tied up with a sparkly clip.

Y/N lowered the volume on the TV, draped the soft fleece throw blanket over her daughter’s legs , and kissed her on the forehead.

“Sweet dreams , baby,” she whispered.

She let herself snuggle up next to her as she just watched her daughter breathe for a while. Watched the slow and steady rise and fall of her little chest and toddler belly.

The replay of Bucky’s words spun and spun in her head. The soft tone he used. The thoughtful pause before he answered her .The way he looked at Madelyn like she was made of stardust and curiosity.

Not mean. Just quiet.

She thought about replying to the text. Then didn’t

7:05 p.m. — Y/N's Apartment

Y/N scooped a hefty serving of cheesy spaghetti and garlic toast on a paper plate for Madelyn before making her own with whatever little serving size was left over for herself. 

Madelyn slurped up the noodles giggling when they would slap her nose and sauce covered her little cheeks.

“Mommy?”

“Yeah , baby?” Y/N twirled a twist of noodles around her fork looking up at her.

“I think Batman smiles. Just not a lot.”

Y/N smiled , pressing her lips into a thin line , taking a sip of her water.

“Yeah,” she whispered around the rim. “I think you’re right.”

10:08 p.m. — Bucky’s Penthouse

The room was dark , lit only by the low golden glow of a floor lamp in the corner. Bucky sat on the edge of his sectional couch , one hand gripping the neck of a sweating ; going warm– glass of liquor, the other holding his phone in front of his face.

He’d sent the message hours ago.

“Tell your daughter I smiled five minutes after she left.”

He stared at the screen , at his text. Still no reply.

He wasn’t sure what he expected—maybe a laugh , or a snarky text back , or even just a thumbs-up emoji.

But nothing. The screen dimmed in his hand.

He locked it and tossed it gently on the cushion beside him.

It wasn’t frustration he felt. It wasn’t rejection either.

Just... quietness , the kind he always succumbed to and hated.

He leaned back , head against the sofa , and closed his eyes.

For a man who could read the markets and balance multi-million-dollar contracts with his eyes closed , Bucky Barnes had absolutely no idea what to make of a woman who didn’t say anything at all

-end

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[sunni-stuff]

Standing outside your apartment, Simon tightened his grip around the wooden toy train, the corners of the box digging slightly into his palm. His heart thrummed uncomfortably in his chest—a sensation far too foreign for someone who’d faced down worse odds than this. He was used to calculating risks, taking them head-on, but this? This wasn’t a battlefield; it was something infinitely more terrifying. He was meeting his daughter.

He cast a glance at the train in his hand, a sturdy, well-crafted toy he and Johnny had spent hours picking out earlier that day. The shopkeeper’s amused expression still lingered in his mind—two grown men scrutinizing toy trains as though the fate of the world rested on their choice. You hadn’t been specific, just a train, no frills, nothing cartoonish. And so Simon had chosen the simplest one, figuring it was better to err on the side of practicality.

Beside him, Johnny leaned casually against the wall, spinning a plastic-cased mermaid Barbie in his hands. The vibrant teal-and-pink packaging clashed starkly with the air of seriousness Simon carried.

Simon scowled, his gaze darting to the doll. “I told you, no dolls. She said no dolls.” His voice was low and rough, almost a growl, though it carried more nervous energy than actual anger.

Johnny raised an eyebrow, smirking as he turned the Barbie over in his hands. “What kid doesn’t like a Barbie? Eh? You’re overthinking this, big man.” His Scottish accent lent an irreverent edge to his words. “Besides, it’s just a backup. If she doesn’t like the train—which, let’s face it, is a bloody long shot—I’ve got something she’s bound to love.”

Simon shot him a sharp look. “It’s not about the toy,” he muttered, shifting his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “It’s about… makin’ an impression. Proper one.”

Johnny’s smirk softened, his usual teasing tone giving way to something closer to sincerity. “And you think that’s all ridin’ on a train? C’mon, mate, it’s you she’s meeting, not just some toy. Kids aren’t daft—they know when someone’s tryin’.” He tilted his head toward the toy in Simon’s hand. “But, for what it’s worth, that train’s not bad. Proper classic. No gimmicks.”

Simon grunted in response, his attention flicking back to the apartment door. It was a quiet, unassuming building, but the pressure of what lay beyond that door was immense. You were in there with her—Adira. His daughter. The thought still felt surreal, even after the days he’d spent turning it over in his mind. He’d seen her before, from a distance, but that was different. This was too personal in a way he wasn’t sure he was prepared for.

“I should’ve brought the others,” Simon muttered under his breath, more to himself than Johnny.

Johnny’s eyes twinkled with humor. “Aye, because showin’ up with the whole bloody team wouldn’t be overwhelming at all, eh? ‘Here’s yer dad, and here’s his army of uncles.’ Real subtle.”

Simon huffed a dry laugh despite himself, the tension in his shoulders loosening just a fraction. Johnny always had a knack for cutting through his nerves, even when Simon wasn’t in the mood for it.

The sound of footsteps on the other side of the door snapped Simon’s attention back to the moment. His pulse quickened as the lock turned, and the door creaked open to reveal you standing there, a mixture of caution and curiosity etched into your expression. You didn’t say anything right away, your gaze darting between Simon, Johnny, and the toys in their hands.

“Hi,” Simon managed, his voice quieter than he’d intended. He cleared his throat, adjusting his grip on the train. “Uh… thought I’d bring somethin’ she might like.”

You glanced at the train, then at Johnny’s Barbie, raising an eyebrow. “I see Johnny didn’t listen,” you comment dryly, though there was a hint of amusement in your tone.

Johnny grinned, unbothered. “Insurance, lass. Always good to have a backup plan.”

Stepping aside, you gestured for them to come in. “Well, let’s see how this goes. She’s in the living room.”

Simon felt the air grow heavier as he crossed the threshold, each step bringing him closer to something he’d been equal parts dreading and hoping for. The sound of quiet giggles and the rustle of toys came from the living room, and he stopped short in the hallway, his hand tightening instinctively around the train.

“You okay?” you asked curiously, your question laced with something he couldn’t quite place—concern? Reassurance?

He nodded stiffly, though he wasn’t entirely sure who he was convincing. “Yeah,” he said, masking his unease. This wasn’t the time to let emotions run wild, not when his daughter was just a few steps away. He needed to reel everything, keep composed.. “Just… takin’ a moment.”

Johnny clapped him on the shoulder, his grin unfaltering. “You’ve got this, mate. And if all else fails—” he held up the Barbie with a dramatic flourish—“I’ve got you covered.”

Simon rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at his lips. “Thanks for that,” he muttered dryly.

He took a grounding breath, then stepped into the living room. The sight that greeted him stopped him in his tracks—Adira, sitting cross-legged on the floor, a miniature train set spread out before her. Her dark hair fell in delicate curls around her face, and her eyes, so startlingly like his own, lit up with delight as she guided a tiny train along the tracks.

The world seemed to narrow, every noise fading into the background except for the sound of her soft laughter. This was his daughter, and for the first time, he wasn’t just watching from afar—he was here.

Adira looked up, her curious gaze locking onto him. Simon’s heart leapt into his throat as she tilted her head, studying him with a mix of curiosity and caution. Before he could speak, Johnny stepped forward, a grin plastered across his face as he crouched beside her.

"Hey, bonnie lass," Johnny greeted, bringing in  warmth and cheerfulness. He held out the mermaid Barbie, its plastic casing shimmering in the soft light. “Look what I got for ye.”

Adira blinked at him, her small head tilting to the side in the same assessing way she’d done with Simon. Then, in a voice as sweet as it was blunt, she said, “Ugee.”

Simon held back a laugh, but Johnny froze, his grin faltering. Did she just call me ugly again? he thought, momentarily stunned before recovering with a sheepish laugh.

“Oh, come on, lass. That’s no way to treat yer Uncle Johnny,” he teased, though his pride was clearly bruised. He pushed the doll a little closer, his voice softening. “It’s for you. Look—she’s got a shiny tail and everything.”

Adira’s expression shifted, her curiosity piqued as she finally reached for the doll. Johnny’s face lit up with relief, and he turned to you and Simon with a victorious smirk. “Told ya,” he mouthed, his tone smug.

Simon raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, while you merely crossed your arms, waiting for what you knew was coming.

The sound of plastic ripping shattered Johnny’s moment of triumph. His head whipped around just in time to see Adira pull the doll free from its packaging with surprising efficiency. She studied it for a moment, her tiny fingers gripping the head and the body. And then—pop—the doll’s head came clean off.

Johnny’s jaw dropped as he watched Adira inspect the decapitated doll with silent satisfaction. She set the head down beside her, then held up the now-headless body, apparently contemplating her next move.

Simon let out a chuckle, unable to hide his amusement as Johnny gawked at the scene, his earlier smugness entirely gone. “Well,” Simon drawled, unable to hide his dry humor. “Guess she wasn’t a fan after all.”

Johnny turned back to you and Simon, his expression caught between disbelief and betrayal. “What… what kind of kid just does that?!” he demanded, gesturing wildly at the scene behind him.

You shrugged, biting back a laugh. “I warned you about the dolls.”

Johnny shook his head, still reeling as he muttered under his breath, “She’s Sid from Toy Story incarnate, I swear.”

Adira, seemingly unbothered by the fuss, returned her focus to her trains, contentedly adding the doll’s head to a makeshift pile of "cargo." Johnny looked ready to protest further, but Simon stepped forward, crouching to her level and holding out the wooden train.

“Hi,” he spoke softly, his voice steady despite the lingering laughter in his chest. “I brought you somethin’. Thought you might like it.”

Adira didn’t respond right away, her eyes bouncing between him and the toy. Then, slowly, she reached out, her small fingers brushing against the train before taking it from his hands. Unlike the Barbie, she carefully opened the box, her movements deliberate and methodical. She removed the wooden train gently, inspecting it for a moment. Without a word, she added it to the tracks, her attention already back on her play as if nothing else in the world mattered.

Simon stayed crouched, watching her intently. A flicker of relief crossed his face at her acceptance of the gift. The room, heavy with unspoken tension just moments before, now felt lighter, though Simon could feel the enormity of the moment pressing against his chest.

You appeared at his side, crouching slightly to meet his eye, a small grin on your lips. “That’s a good sign,” you murmured, keeping your voice low. “She doesn’t usually let people touch her trains.”

Simon exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. His gaze flickered back to Adira, watching as she carefully positioned the new train car alongside the others, her focus unwavering. It wasn’t much—just a small gesture—but it felt monumental. A start.

“She’s got good taste,” Simon adds, a touch of pride in his tongue as he nodded toward the tracks. “Knows quality when she sees it.”

You chuckled, the sound easing the edges of Simon’s nerves. “It’s not just that,” you replied, your eyes lightening as you watched Adira. “Trains are her world. If she’s letting you into it, even a little…” You trailed off, leaving the implication hanging in the air.

Simon nodded, his throat tightening with a mix of emotions he wasn’t used to confronting. For a moment, he allowed himself to simply watch her, the curve of her cheek, the determined set of her brow as she pushed the train forward, creating a soft click-clack noise against the wooden tracks. He thought of all the moments he’d missed, all the firsts that had come and gone without him. But now, sitting there on the floor of your apartment, watching his little girl play, he felt something unfamiliar: hope.

“It’s a start,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. And for now, that was enough.

Johnny hung back near the doorway, arms crossed over his chest as he watched the tender scene unfold. Simon, a man he’d always seen as unshakable and stoic, was crouched beside Adira, his usually guarded expression diminished by a rare, genuine grin. Johnny didn’t dare interrupt—this wasn’t his moment. He was just a spectator, standing on the sidelines as a long-standing divide finally began to close.

The warmth in the room tugged at Johnny’s own heart, and though he wasn’t one for sentimentality, the sight was too good to pass up. Without a word, he slipped his phone from his pocket, angling it just right to snap a quick picture. Simon’s grin, lopsided and proud, was illuminated by the soft glow of the lamp, his large frame almost comically dwarfed by the tiny train set and the little girl at its center.

Satisfied with the shot, Johnny smirked to himself as he typed out a caption: “Big man, small trains. Heart officially melted. ” He hit send, the photo shooting off to the group chat where the lads were bound to have a field day with it.

Moments later, his phone buzzed with a flurry of responses:

Roach: “Never thought I’d see Ghost look so human.”

Gaz: “He’s got the ‘Dad Look’ down already. Almost feel bad making fun of him.”

Price: “I don’t. Send more pics.”

Stifling a snicker, Johnny shoved his phone back into his pocket. He glanced back at Simon, who was completely absorbed in Adira’s world, watching as she pushed the new train along the tracks with the utmost concentration. The sheer joy and focus on her face seemed to draw Simon further into her orbit, as if nothing else existed but the tiny, clacking train set.

Johnny shook his head fondly. Big, scary Ghost, he thought, brought to his knees by a wee lass and a wooden train. It was a sight he’d never forget.

Johnny slipped out of the apartment with a quiet click of the door, leaving the two of you in a silence that felt both comfortable and weighty. His absence left the air clearer, yet filled with the unspoken. As Adira remained engrossed in her trains, her murmurs creating a gentle rhythm in the background, you found your mind racing with a single, unrelenting question:

What now?

Giving her toys was one thing. Simon showing up, physically present, was a start. But the path ahead of you wasn’t so simple. Building a connection took more than gifts and fleeting moments. Adira was too young to truly grasp the gravity of this shift in her world. Telling her outright that Simon was her father didn’t feel right—not now. That conversation would be better left for a day when she could fully understand it.

You rose from your position near him, brushing off your knees as you took a real long look at her. There it was, in her little mannerisms, her sharp focus, the way her brow furrowed just slightly as she concentrated—it was him. So much of him. And the way Simon’s gaze relaxed as he watched her? You could see it, plain as day. He wanted to be there for her.

And you wanted her to be happy.

The realization hit you with clarity: the best way to make this transition smooth was to let Simon find his place naturally. He couldn’t make up for all the firsts he’d missed, but there was still time for so many more moments.

“So…” you began, your voice quiet but heavy, the word hanging between you like an unspoken question. You turned to face Simon, watching him carefully as he sat cross-legged on the floor, his broad frame surprisingly small in this intimate space. He was still holding that wooden train, his fingers gently brushing over the smooth surface like it was something sacred.

Simon looked up at you, his eyes catching yours, and he shifted slightly, his posture relaxed, but there was something else—something vulnerable yet determined. "So," he echoed, his voice unshakable, though you could hear the undertone of apprehension, a slight tremor of uncertainty beneath his calm façade. He wanted to be open, to show you he was ready for whatever was coming next, even if he wasn’t entirely sure what that was.

You crossed your arms, not out of defiance but out of the need to ground yourself. It was a physical gesture, a way to hold yourself steady in the face of everything that had led to this moment. “This isn’t going to be easy,” you said, the words a simple statement, but they carried meaning.

“I didn’t expect it to be,” Simon replied, his voice firm, the same way it would sound in the midst of a mission, when the stakes were high. The seriousness in his tone wasn’t lost on you. But there was more than just the soldier in him now—there was a father. "But I’m here. I want to try. For her." His eyes darted to Adira, his gaze lingering on her as she lined up her train set with careful precision. It was a look filled with fierce, almost protective determination, and it tugged at your chest.

“For her,” you agreed, your heart swelling with the truth of it. “She deserves that. But it’s not just about showing up with toys. It’s about showing up for her. Being there when she needs you, even if it’s hard. Even if she pushes you away at first.”

Simon’s jaw tightened as you spoke, and you saw the muscles in his neck flex, as though he was fighting against something—maybe the grandness of what this all meant, maybe his own doubts. “I can do that,” he said after a pause, his voice low but resolute. “I will.”

“You’ll have to.” Your tone tender, but you still held that edge of playful taunting. It was your way of testing the waters, of gauging if he was truly prepared for what this would take. “She’s stubborn. Wonder where she gets that from.”

Simon huffed a quiet laugh, and a faint smirk forming on his mouth. For a brief moment, the walls he’d built around himself seemed to weaken, just a little. “Aye, can’t imagine,” he replied, the humor easing some of the tension in the room.

There was a pause, the room settling into a calm that hadn’t been there before. You watched as Simon glanced back at Adira, his eyes lingering on her as she placed another train down, her little brow furrowed in concentration. The sight was almost too much for him—this was his flesh and blood, sitting right there in front of him, in this quiet, domestic world he hadn’t been a part of.

“First things first—likes and dislikes.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, but you didn’t wait for him to respond. You turned on your heel and slipped into the kitchen, the quiet tension that had settled between you both diminishing. Simon, sitting cross-legged on the floor near Adira, was still absorbing the weight of everything unfolding. His gaze followed you as you disappeared into the next room, the brief silence stretching between the two of you.

When you returned, you were holding a file—nothing flashy, just a plain folder. You approached him and handed it over, watching as he hesitated, the weight of the paper in his hands heavier than it appeared.

The sight inside that greeted him threw him off guard—pages upon pages of meticulously written details. At first glance, it looked like a detailed report, every section filled with information about Adira’s daily routine, preferences, and even the smallest of habits. Her favorite snacks, the way she liked her sandwiches cut in triangles. Each page was packed with specifics: her reactions to certain foods, her favorite colors, how she responded to certain sounds and even what she liked to do on rainy days—took him completely off guard.

Simon blinked at it, flipping through the pages as if trying to find a sense of grounding in the flood of information. It was overwhelming, but what struck him the most was how thorough it was—how much you had put into it. Everything about her, everything you alone learned over the years, all laid out for him to see.

The file was thick, packed with details. The more he flipped through, the more surprised he became. Notes jotted in neat handwriting with labeled sections.There wasn’t just filled with cold, clinical notes. It also contained moments of tenderness, small anecdotes about how Adira reacted to certain situations or things that made her smile. You had carefully noted the songs she liked to sing along with, how she would curl up on the couch when she was feeling down, the exact way she liked her bedtime story read.

Simon looked up at you, his expression one of confusion and curiosity. “What is all this?” he asked quietly, his voice tinged with surprise.

You offered him a faint smile, though there was no real humor in it. “Before you think I’m crazy or paranoid,” you began, raising your hands slightly in defense, “I work at the daycare around the corner, and Adira comes with me. It’s policy to keep these records—just in case. You know, since some kids have allergies, or there are specific things we need to be aware of.”

He nodded, still flipping through the file, as if seeing this list of Adira’s little quirks and habits for the first time made her seem more real. More like a child who had to be cared for, understood, and loved in ways that went far beyond simply showing up with a toy.

“I didn’t know you’d been keeping track of all of this,” A look of genuine surprise crossed his face. “I didn’t know… I didn’t know you’d been doing so much.”

You shrugged slightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “It’s nothing. Just making sure she’s okay.” There was an edge of vulnerability to your words, as if you were downplaying the emotional weight of it all.

Simon’s fingers lingered on the pages, his gaze skimming the words as if trying to understand the depth of the commitment you had for Adira. It wasn’t just about her well-being, it was about every little thing that made her, her.

“You really do know everything about her, don’t you?” he said, his voice tinged with awe.

You nodded, feeling a warmth spread through you at his reaction. It wasn’t about control or being overprotective—it was about ensuring that every part of Adira’s world was in order, even when you weren’t looking.

“I know what she likes, what she dislikes. I know how she reacts when she’s tired or overstimulated. I know what makes her laugh and what makes her cry. It’s not about keeping tabs, it’s about making sure she feels safe. Especially with everything changing right now.”

Simon absorbed your words quietly, the weight of the file heavy in his hands. The realization hit him like a punch in the gut. You had been doing this alone for so long—carrying the weight of all these little details, managing the complexity of motherhood without the support he should’ve been offering.

“She’s lucky,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “You’ve done more than I can even imagine.”

You didn’t say anything at first. The simplicity of his words caught you off guard, making you feel a bit exposed. “It’s just what you do for them,” you replied, your voice softer now, more vulnerable. “You do what you can to make sure they’re okay.”

Simon closed the file slowly, processing what it meant. He felt a surge of something—guilt, maybe, or a quiet ache—as he realized just how much he’d missed. He’d been absent for so many of the small, seemingly insignificant moments that made up Adira’s life. And now, looking at the file, he could feel the weight of his absence more than ever.

“I want to know it all,” Simon said quietly, his voice full of resolve. “Every little thing. I don’t care how small it seems. I want to learn everything about her.”

Your heart skipped at his words, and for the first time, you felt a sense of stability knowing he’d be around to lift some of the hardship off your shoulders. For once, it wouldn’t just be you anymore.

“Good,” Your voice filled with quiet approval. “Because it’s going to take time. And you’ll need to be patient.”

“I can do that,” he replied, his jaw set with determination. “I’m not going anywhere.”

By 6 AM sharp, there he was—a solid, familiar figure standing at your door with his sleeves rolled up and a faint, hesitant smile. He never asked if you needed help; he simply showed up, ready to lend a hand. Simon didn’t just want to be in your life—he wanted to belong in it. Every visit to your apartment wasn’t just about showing up; it was about figuring out how to bridge the gap between her world and his. You had been Adira's anchor, her everything. Simon understood that, respected it, but he was intent on creating his own place in her little universe—one small gesture at a time.

At first, his kitchen skills left a lot to be desired. You insisted you could handle breakfast on your own, but Simon waved you off, determined to prove himself. Adira sat in her highchair, small fingers clutching a slice of strawberry as she watched her father with wide, curious eyes. He wrestled with the stovetop like it was an enemy combatant, flipping pancakes that somehow always ended up sticking or splattering in every direction. A particularly ambitious flip sent batter flying, splattering across his shirt and the counter.

Adira paused mid-chew, her sharp little eyes zeroing in on the mess. "Messy man," she mumbled around the strawberry, her tone matter-of-fact but laced with childish amusement.

Simon froze, mid-swipe with a paper towel, and glanced at her, eyebrows shooting up. “What’d you call me?”

"Messy man," she repeated, a little more confidently this time, giggling as she pointed at the batter streaked across his chest.

You couldn’t help but laugh as Simon groaned, shaking his head with mock exasperation. “I’ll remember that,” he muttered, though there was no hiding the faint smile that tugged at his lips.

Despite the mishaps, he never gave up. Day by day, the kitchen disasters became fewer. He learned that Adira liked her pancakes shaped like stars if you had the time and that a dollop of whipped cream on top made her clap her hands with delight. He discovered she preferred her strawberries sliced thin, not chunky, and that she hated the crusts on toast but loved when it was cut into neat little triangles.

More importantly, while you were around, Adira began to interact with him in ways you hadn’t expected. She would babble at him as he cooked, her little hands waving animatedly as though she was offering advice. He listened as if she were telling him the most important secrets in the world, nodding solemnly and responding in his deep, rumbling voice.

One morning, as he handed her a plate with her favorite star-shaped pancakes, she looked up at him with a toothy smile, “Thank you, messy man.”

Simon froze, his grip tightening on the plate for just a second before he crouched down to her level. “You’re welcome, love,” The endearing nickname left his lips with ease, carrying an edge of something raw and tender.

You stood in the doorway, watching the scene unfold with a lump in your throat. This wasn’t just about breakfast. It was about Simon trying—every single day—to show her that he was there, that he wasn’t going anywhere. It was clumsy and imperfect, but it was real. And you couldn’t help but feel the faint stirrings of something like hope, watching the way Adira’s small world seemed to expand to make room for him.

After some time of this new, unspoken pattern settling in—one that felt like a quiet, gradual understanding—Adira seemed to begin warming up to Simon. It wasn’t as deep or instantaneous as it had been with you, but it was enough. Enough for her to sit at the table, nibbling on the pancakes he’d made. Enough to sit near him and listen to his voice without the immediate urge to run to you. And, perhaps most telling, enough for her to offer him a strawberry one morning before daycare.

Still, there were unspoken boundaries. She wouldn’t let him touch her trains, a sacred realm of hers he dared not trespass. And after a while of him being nearby, she’d often wander back to you, clutching at your leg or climbing into your lap, needing the reassurance of your proximity. 

You saw it in Simon’s eyes sometimes, the flicker of hurt that he quickly masked, brushing it off like it didn’t matter. But it did. You could tell. Adira was studying him from the safety of her bubble, keeping her distance as if trying to figure him out. You couldn’t blame her. Adira had lived her life with you as the constant; Simon was a new element in her world, one she wasn’t sure how to integrate yet.

But you couldn’t help but wonder: Did she need just a little nudge? A chance to have a moment with him—just the two of them—without you hovering nearby to catch her if she fell?

That opportunity came one morning when the daycare announced they would be closing down the toddler classrooms for renovations. Since Adira’s classroom was off-limits, she couldn’t come with you, leaving a gap in her schedule for at least a day or two. It was the perfect chance for Simon to step in and watch her alone, just the two of them.

That morning, Simon arrived as usual, but the atmosphere was different. You were already dressed for work, and Adira sat on the couch, her little frame wrapped in her favorite onesie—a fuzzy lavender number with tiny clouds on the sleeves. Her attention was fixed on the cartoon playing on the screen, her pillow hugged tightly to her chest.

You had considered this moment for a while, weighing the risks and the benefits. You knew how much it would mean to Simon if Adira let him in just a little bit more. But it was still a leap. You couldn’t help but feel the protective instinct rising in you, a sharp edge of caution in your chest. If anything went wrong, if Adira seemed uncomfortable or the situation felt off, you’d be home in a heartbeat. It was your job to protect her, to put her needs above all else—even Simon’s. As much as he was trying, as much as he cared, she was still your child, and her safety and happiness mattered most.

Simon raised an eyebrow as he noticed your state of dress and Adira’s lounging figure. “So, it’s just me and her today?”

You nodded, grabbing your keys. “her classroom is closed for renovations. Figured this would be a good chance for you two to spend some time together.”

He didn’t respond right away, instead Simon seemed to take everything in stride, breathing in deeply, knowing his moment was now.

You couldn’t help but study him for a moment longer, as if reading him for any sign that he was second-guessing himself. But then he smiled at you, it was genuine—reassuring. You had to trust him. You had to let him try.

Walking over to Adira, you knelt beside her, smoothing her hair as you spoke. “Sweetheart, you’re gonna hang out with Simon today, okay? I’ll be back soon.” 

Adira’s brows furrowed, her lips pressing into a tiny pout. “You go?”

“Just for a little while,” you reassured her. “Simon’s going to stay with you, and you’ll have lots of fun. Won’t you?”

Adira looked up at you with those wide, dark eyes, not fully understanding the implications, but offering you a small, shy nod. She then returned her attention to the TV, her little fingers absentmindedly squeezing the fabric of her pillow.

“She’s had her bath, so no worries there,” you swiftly explained, slipping into your role as her mother. “She’s in her onesie because it’s raining today, and for some reason, she loves wearing it on rainy days—I don't understand it but as long as she's happy. There’s food in the fridge, but after a couple of hours, I’d suggest cutting the TV off. Let her color, read, or maybe play with her trains. It gives her eyes a break from the screen. Oh, and rainy days mean pizza. Her favorite place is ‘Mario’s,’ and the number’s on the fridge. She’ll ask for the stuffed crust and extra cheese, light on the sauce.”

Simon absorbed the instructions like a soldier receiving a mission briefing, nodding along as you spoke. His eyes flicked to Adira, who was now idly kicking her feet as she watched the TV, and then back to you. “Got it. Anything else?”

You hesitated for a moment, then let it subside. “Just… be patient with her. She’s still figuring this out. You’re doing great, Simon.”

His lips twitched into a small, almost shy smile. “Thanks.”

You gave him one last glance, scanning for any signs of hesitation or doubt, but his steady demeanor gave you confidence. With a final goodbye to Adira, who waved absently, you headed for the door. With that, you left, the door clicking shut behind you. Your chest felt tight, your every nerve on edge as you walked to work. This was Simon’s test, sure, but it was yours too—trusting someone else with the most precious thing in your life. Only time would tell how it would go.

The door clicked shut behind you, leaving Simon standing awkwardly in the quiet apartment. Adira stayed exactly where she was, her little form cocooned on the couch, eyes glued to the animated animals bouncing across the TV screen. Simon exhaled through his nose, rubbing the back of his neck as he took in the moment. This was it. His chance.

He crossed the room and sat down next to her, careful not to invade her space. For a moment, the silence stretched between them, thick and uncertain. Adira didn’t so much as glance his way, her focus unwavering as the characters on the screen launched into a cheerful song.

Simon cleared his throat, the sound cutting through the air like an awkward ripple. "So, uh," he started, his voice low and unsure, "you like it when it rains?"

Adira finally looked up at him, her big, curious eyes meeting his. She blinked a couple of times, processing his question, before giving a small, shy nod.

"Yeah?" he pressed, a soft smile creeping onto his face. "What’s your favorite thing about it? The sound? Jumping in puddles?"

Her lips twitched, almost forming a smile, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she shifted on the couch, pulling her pillow closer as if using it as a shield. Simon waited, giving her time, not wanting to push. Then, as if finding the courage, she mumbled, “The sound.”

“The sound, huh? Me too,” he said, leaning back a bit to ease the tension. “Kinda peaceful, isn’t it? Makes everything... quiet.”

Adira nodded again, this time a little more confidently. Her tiny fingers started to drum on the pillow in her lap, the rhythm mimicking the pitter-patter of raindrops. Simon caught it and grinned.

“You know,” he said, lowering his voice conspiratorially, “I used to watch the rain all the time when I was little. Sometimes I’d sit by the window for hours, just listening. My mum always said I’d get stuck there.”

Adira tilted her head at him, her curiosity evident now. “Why?” she asked, her voice soft and a little unsure, as though she wasn’t entirely ready to start talking freely.

Simon chuckled, scratching his chin. “Dunno. Maybe I thought if I stayed there long enough, I’d see something special, like... I dunno, maybe the rain would make magic happen.”

Her eyes widened slightly at the word magic, and Simon felt a small victory bloom in his chest.

“Magic?” she echoed, her tone a mix of skepticism and interest.

“Oh, yeah,” he replied, leaning in just a little, like he was about to share a secret. “The kind that only shows up when you’re really, really patient. You gotta look close, though.”

Adira’s gaze darted back to the TV for a moment before returning to him, her guard lowering inch by inch. She hugged her pillow tighter but didn’t turn away.

“Maybe,” she murmured, almost too quietly for him to hear, “maybe I’ll see magic too.”

Simon’s chest tightened, a warmth spreading there that he hadn’t felt in years. For the first time, he wasn’t just a stranger in her world; he was someone she was starting to let in.

“Maybe you will,” he said softly, leaning back into the couch. He let the quiet fill the space again, content to sit beside her, waiting for the rain—or the magic—to come.

After a few minutes, Adira reached over to the side table where her sippy cup rested. She grabbed it, then paused, her hand hovering. Slowly, she stretched it out toward him. “Drink?” she offered, her voice small but steady.

Simon blinked, caught off guard by the gesture. It wasn’t much—just a sippy cup of watered-down juice—but it felt monumental. “Thanks, but that’s yours,” he said gently, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

She pulled it back and took a sip herself, nodding like she’d made a grand decision.

Simon chuckled softly. “Fair enough.”

It wasn’t much, but it was something. A small step, a tiny opening, and Simon took it as the win it was.

The hours slipped by quietly, the sound of the TV buzzing in the background, and before Simon knew it, the three-hour mark had passed. He glanced at the clock, then at the screen, and with a deep breath, he reached over and clicked the power button.

Adira's eyes widened in shock, her little fingers frozen mid-air as she pointed at the now-black screen. "Why?" she asked, her voice a mix of confusion and mild frustration. "I wanna watch..." Her words trailed off, her pout deepening as she looked back at him, like she couldn’t quite understand why he’d taken it away.

Simon bit his lip, fighting a chuckle. "You’ve been watchin' for a while now, kiddo," he said, trying to sound casual, but there was a slight hesitation in his voice. "Time to do somethin’ else, yeah?"

Adira stared at him for a long moment, her little brow furrowed as she processed what he’d said. She didn’t seem convinced at first, her gaze darting back to the black screen as if willing it to come back to life. When it didn’t, she crossed her arms over her chest, her lower lip poking out in a full pout.

“I don’t wanna,” she muttered, voice small but firm. It was clear she wasn’t happy with the decision, but Simon had a feeling it was more about the principle of the matter than the TV itself.

“C’mon now,” Simon said softly, trying to soften the blow. “We can do somethin’ fun. How ‘bout we build somethin' together? Or read a book?”

Her little frown deepened, and Simon almost felt bad for turning the TV off. But this was the first time he’d gotten a moment alone with her, and he knew it was important to break the habit, to show her there were other things to do in the world besides the screen.

She hesitated, her gaze flicking between him and the quiet living room. Then, with a small sigh, she uncrossed her arms and stood up, shuffling toward the toy box with little steps, only to find nothing that interested her.

"Books?" she asked, her voice still laced with uncertainty but tinged with the smallest bit of curiosity.

Simon smiled, feeling a wave of relief. “Books it is,” he said, standing up to join her. “I bet we can find somethin’ that’ll be just as fun as that TV show.”

Adira didn’t answer, but the way she grabbed a book off the shelf made Simon’s heart flutter with a tiny spark of victory. 

Adira returned to Simon’s side, holding a colorful book with a soft, focused expression on her face. The cover was bright, featuring two foxes—one with a bushy tail and the other a smaller, more timid-looking one. The title, No Matter What, was written in bold letters above them. She climbed up beside him and, without a word, placed the book in his lap, her small hands brushing gently against it as if offering him a treasure.

Simon looked down at the book, caught off guard by her quiet gesture. He glanced at her for a moment, meeting her eyes. She looked at him with a silent kind of expectation, waiting.

Slowly, he picked up the book, holding it carefully as if it were something precious. “What’s this?” he asked softly, though it was clear he already had an inkling.

“Foxes,” Adira replied simply, her voice soft but firm. “Mama read it. It’s ‘bout love.”

Simon’s heart tugged at the mention of you. He could imagine the way you’d read to her, the soothing cadence of your voice, the way Adira had probably snuggled up beside you during the bedtime ritual. But there was something in Adira’s face now, something that felt like an invitation—a little piece of trust she was offering him, too.

“Well, alright then,” Simon said, his voice soft as he began to flip open the book. Adira sat close beside him, her tiny hands still on the cover, watching his every move with an intense focus. She didn’t rush him. The silence between them felt comforting.

He began to read aloud, slowly at first, as if still gauging her reaction. “No matter what, the foxes knew that they would always be together, through the rain or the snow, through the darkest nights and the brightest days.”

Adira shifted beside him, her little legs crossing as she settled into his side. Her small hand reached for the page as he turned it, her fingers brushing over the illustrations. She didn’t interrupt, just quietly absorbed the words.

As Simon read on, his voice grew more confident, and the warmth of the moment started to settle between them. For a fleeting moment, it felt like they had bridged a gap, one word at a time, one page at a time. It wasn’t much, but it was something—something to build on.

Adira’s gaze remained fixed on the book, but her body had relaxed against Simon’s, the way a child does when they feel safe. As the last pages of the book came into view, she snuggled closer, her head resting against his shoulder.

When Simon finished reading, he let the book fall softly onto his lap. He looked down at her, her eyes half-closed, but still aware and trusting. She looked up at him again, her tiny voice soft as she spoke. “Foxes love each other... no matter what.”

Simon’s heart thudded in his chest, the simplicity of her words hitting him harder than he expected. He wasn’t quite sure what it all meant yet, but in that moment, it was enough to see her so close, so willing to share something so personal. A bond had begun to form—fragile, yes, but it was there.

“Yeah,” Simon said, his voice barely above a whisper, “no matter what.”

With the last of the kids sent off and the staff beginning to clean up, you closed up shop, ready to call it a day. But just as you were locking up, a loud clap of thunder rattled the building, causing you to jump in shock. Your heart raced for a moment, the suddenness of it making you freeze in place.

“Jesus, if Adira was here, she’d lose it,” you muttered to yourself, trying to laugh off the shock. But then, your words hit you like a ton of bricks.

If Adira was here.

A chill ran through you as it dawned on you just how careless you’d been. Shit. Shit. Shit. You had completely forgotten to tell Simon about her fear of thunderstorms. She hated them. Hated the loud crashes of thunder, the flashes of lightning. You’d seen her curl up in a ball, her hands over her ears, eyes wide with terror when the storms hit.

The sound of the storm outside was only getting louder, the thunder now booming and crackling as it came closer. You could imagine Adira, sitting there with Simon, eyes wide and full of fear, clutching whatever comfort she could find, and Simon… God, Simon probably didn’t know what to do. He wouldn’t have any idea how to handle it.

Without thinking twice, you dropped everything—your bag, your jacket, anything that wasn’t crucial to getting home. You shot a quick look toward the staff, offering a hasty explanation and apology. Then, without another word, you bolted through the doors, past the remaining parents who were still talking in the lobby, and into the rain.

The rain beat down on you as you sprinted through the streets, the cold droplets stinging your skin as the thunder rumbled overhead. You couldn’t focus on anything but getting home. Adira needs me. Adira needs me.The mantra repeated in your head with each pounding step. Your feet splashed through puddles, the air heavy with the scent of wet pavement and the growing tension in your chest.

It felt like forever as you raced through the downpour, but at last, you reached the building, heart hammering in your chest. You fumbled with your keys, every second feeling like an eternity as the thunder rumbled louder, closer. Hurry, you told yourself, voice shaky as you turned the key and shoved the door open.

The apartment was quiet. Too quiet.

The air felt thick, and as you stepped inside, your eyes instantly darted to the living room.  

On the couch, Simon was sitting with Adira curled up in his side, wrapped tightly in her favorite blanket. Her little body was nestled against his, her small form practically hidden in the folds of the soft fabric. On the coffee table in front of them were the remnants of their quiet afternoon—plastic plates with pizza stains, her sippy cup placed haphazardly next to the mess. Around them, the stack of books you always read to her was scattered across the table: I Love You to the Moon and Back, The Koala Who Could, What Color is a Kiss?—books that had been a staple in your bedtime routine for as long as you could remember.

The sight of them—Adira calm, safe, resting against Simon—caught you off guard. You’d expected panic, chaos, something more… uncertain. But instead, the two of them looked peaceful. Simon’s hand was gently resting on her back, his other arm loosely around her as she drifted in and out of sleep, her head nestled against his chest. She was calm. And that... that made your heart ache in ways you hadn’t expected.

You hadn’t expected Simon to be so… natural with her. He’d stepped up in a way you didn’t think was possible, at least not this soon. Maybe you had underestimated him. Maybe—no, you knew—you had underestimated this. 

Simon, with Adira, was something real.

Hi so, this took a while, wanted to make this really long for yall. For me as im writing this, it's 5 AM! I've been working on this since 1 PM yesterday. Long Fics are not my strongpoint, I had so much trouble with this because I'm a perfectionist and my tiny brain often repeats words ALOT. I'm working on it and the best way to improve is to keep writing.

As things currently go, I may write shorter things for this family, I want to develop Adira and Simon's relationship more just not with super long stuff like this. I'd also would love to answer any questions or talk about headcanons anyone has about them. Feel free to send asks!

Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed and by the time this goes up I'm sure I'll still be asleep!

P.S can someone tell me if I do tags wrong, like ive noticed sometimes when I tag it doesn't have the little underline so I keep thinking it doesn't go through </3

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[angel06babysworld]

How about single dad Rafe meets single mom reader and their kids are very obviously trying to set them up

singledad!rafe x singlemom!reader

Playdate Plotting

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Rafe wasn’t blind. He knew something was up the second Ellie started insisting she had to bring two snacks to school—“one for me, one for Theo”—or when she asked if he could make “a little extra” lunch so she could share.

Theo, meanwhile, had started referring to Rafe as “Mr. Cameron” at home like he was some beloved teacher or celebrity. At first, Y/N thought it was cute. Then she saw the way Theo kept inviting himself over to Ellie’s house with zero shame and even less permission.

“Our kids are plotting,” Rafe muttered one afternoon at pickup, watching Ellie and Theo exchange a high five like they’d just closed a business deal.

Y/N sighed. “Hard.”

It didn’t stop there. Suddenly, everything was a group activity. Pumpkin patches, school projects, even grocery runs. Theo would drag Y/N toward Ellie’s car. Ellie would wave her dad over to wherever Y/N happened to be standing. They’d “accidentally” leave toys at each other’s houses. Start group texts between all four of them. Drop bold little suggestions like, “We should just all go out for pancakes next Saturday.”

Rafe didn’t mind. It had been years since he’d felt anything close to routine with another adult, but something about Y/N was grounding. She laughed at his sarcasm. Remembered how he took his coffee. Never treated him like he was broken just because he did everything on his own.

And Y/N—she hadn’t smiled this much in a long time. Rafe was calm where she was scattered, steady where she was stretching herself thin. He didn’t flinch at the chaos of Theo, didn’t hesitate to help with the dishes, didn’t make her feel like a burden.

So when Ellie invited Theo over for a sleepover and then—very suspiciously—asked Rafe if he “wanted to stay for dinner too… maybe forever,” the look Y/N gave him across the table was more amused than surprised.

They’d known for a while what the kids were doing.

And by now, it wasn’t a scheme. It was just working.

Dinner became habit. Saturday mornings, shared. Grocery runs, joint missions. And one night, when Rafe picked Theo up and Y/N opened the door with her hair up and a smile that made his chest ache, he just stepped forward and kissed her without thinking.

Not rushed. Not messy. Just something quiet and sure.

Ellie and Theo screamed when they saw through the window—giddy little traitors.

“You guys are finally dating?” Ellie shouted. “We’ve been trying forever!”

Theo crossed his arms. “Took way too long.”

Rafe rolled his eyes and pulled Y/N into his side. “Happy now?”

Theo nodded. “Extremely.”

And just like that, what the kids had been planning for months became real—simple, steady, and theirs.

tags: @amelialovesrafe @alyisdead @illumoria @blissfulbutterfliess

[rafesorchid]

the quietest place

plot: when a fire tears through your apartment in the middle of the night, you’re forced to trust the firefighter who carries you and your daughter to safety. with nowhere else to go, you accept his offer of shelter—and slowly, in the stillness of his home, you begin to breathe again

CONTENT: house fire, smoke inhalation, trauma responses, implied homelessness, emotional distress, fluff at the end

@darlingshecried <3 have fun!

you don’t remember the smell of smoke at first. just the sharp scent of burnt plastic and something sour in the air, thick enough to make your nose wrinkle as you stirred awake. your baby was still asleep beside you, her tiny fists curled near her face, her lips parted with each soft breath. it was the sudden flicker of orange light bleeding under the bedroom door that made your chest seize.

at first, you thought it was just a weird dream. then came the alarms—shrill, high-pitched, piercing through your skull like a knife. you sat up fast, lungs catching on panic. your daughter stirred, confused, whining softly as the noise startled her.

“it’s okay, baby,” you whispered, already scooping her into your arms. “we’re okay, i got you, i got you…”

but the second you opened the bedroom door, heat hit you like a wall.

your breath caught. the hallway was thick with smoke, dark and rising fast, and you could see the flames at the end of it—red and violent, eating through the cheap wallpaper like it was nothing.

your instincts kicked in. stay low. cover her face. move fast.

you dropped to your knees, clutching her to your chest, the baby blanket wrapped around her little head as she started crying, her voice high and terrified.

“help!” you shouted, throat burning. “somebody help us!”

you tried the front door. wouldn’t budge. heat warped the frame. your hands shook as you fumbled with the lock, but it wouldn’t give. tears blurred your vision as the smoke thickened, your lungs screaming for air, your baby’s cries getting smaller and smaller.

and then—you heard it.

heavy footsteps. muffled shouting. the sound of a door being bashed open, wood splintering under pressure.

and then him.

he stepped into the room like something out of a movie—helmeted, suited in thick black gear, face covered except for his eyes. calm, blue, and alert.

“two in here!” he shouted over his shoulder, then looked at you. crouched low, one gloved hand outstretched. “ma’am, i need you to come with me. now.”

you couldn’t speak. couldn’t breathe. just nodded, clutching your daughter tighter as he reached for you both.

“i’ve got you,” he said, voice steady through the mask. “i promise. you’re okay.”

he picked you up like you weighed nothing. one arm under your legs, the other cradling your daughter’s back as he moved fast through the smoke, barking out directions to the other firefighters as he carried you outside, into air that felt cold and sharp against your skin.

you coughed hard, lungs scraping against your ribs. someone handed you water. someone else draped a blanket around your shoulders. your daughter was still crying, but she was breathing, reaching up to touch your face with soot-covered fingers.

“you’re okay,” you whispered again, voice shaking. “we’re okay, we’re okay…”

he crouched next to you a few minutes later, helmet off now, revealing damp blond hair and soot-streaked skin. his eyes were softer up close. tired but kind.

“i’m rafe,” he said gently. “i was the one who carried you out.”

you looked at him, not sure what to say. everything felt far away, like your brain was still stuck inside the fire.

“thank you,” you managed to whisper.

he nodded once. “you did good. keeping low, covering her face. you probably saved her life.”

your breath caught. you didn’t feel like a hero. you felt like a wreck.

he glanced over his shoulder as someone called his name, then looked back at you. “you got anyone nearby? family? friends?”

you shook your head. “just me and her.”

his jaw tightened slightly. he stood up, ran a hand through his hair, then crouched back down.

“listen,” he said after a pause. “i live ten minutes from here. i’ve got a spare room. clean bed. if you need a place for the night, it’s yours.”

you stared at him. “you don’t even know me.”

“i didn’t know you,” he corrected, “but i carried you both outta a burning building, so i figure we’ve already skipped a few steps.”

you almost laughed, but your throat still burned too much. you looked down at your daughter, who was finally starting to calm, then back at him.

“you don’t have to,” he added quickly. “i get it if you’re not comfortable. there’s a motel near the station—we could call ahead, see if they’ve got a room.”

you hesitated. every nerve in your body screamed not to trust a stranger, not with your daughter, not after everything you’d survived.

but you had nowhere else to go.

and he’d already saved your life once.

“…okay,” you whispered. “just for tonight.”

his truck was quiet. warm. you sat in the passenger seat, wrapped in the blanket, your daughter asleep against your chest, still sniffling softly every few minutes.

he didn’t talk much on the drive. just asked if you were warm enough, if your seatbelt was okay, if she needed anything. you shook your head each time, throat still too raw to speak.

his apartment was on the second floor of a building that looked newer than yours had been. it smelled like clean laundry and faint cologne. he held the door open for you, flicked on a soft light, and nodded toward the hallway.

“guest room’s down there. bathroom too. towels are clean. water heater’s strong.”

you blinked. “you sure about this?”

he shrugged, pulling off his boots. “wasn’t gonna leave you two on the curb.”

you carried your daughter to the guest room and laid her down gently on the bed. she curled onto her side instantly, thumb in her mouth, lashes still damp from crying.

you watched her for a moment, chest aching. she’d been so scared. you both had.

you didn’t realize rafe was standing in the doorway until you turned.

“you want something to wear?” he asked. “your clothes are… yeah.”

you looked down. soot and ash, fabric torn and damp with sweat. you nodded.

he returned a minute later with a faded t-shirt and a pair of flannel pants that looked soft and worn. you thanked him and shut the door.

the hot water stung at first. your skin was raw in places, smoke still clinging to your hair, your eyes. you scrubbed until you were pink, until your fingers ached, until you felt almost human again.

you didn’t cry. not in the shower. not yet.

he was in the kitchen when you came out. the shirt hung to your thighs. your daughter’s blanket was freshly washed, draped over the back of the couch.

“tea?” he asked, holding up a mug.

you nodded and sat across from him at the small kitchen table. the tea was hot and strong, and it burned your throat going down. it was the best thing you’d tasted in days.

“i don’t usually trust people,” you said quietly after a while.

rafe didn’t look surprised. just sipped his tea.

“especially not men,” you added. “especially not strangers.”

“understandable.”

“but i didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

he looked at you then. really looked at you. not in a weird way. just… like he got it. like he’d seen too many people crawl out of flames with nowhere to land after.

“you can stay here as long as you need,” he said. “i mean it.”

your fingers tightened around the mug. “i can’t pay you.”

“wasn’t asking you to.”

you didn’t know what to say to that. so you just nodded.

you didn’t sleep much that night. kept getting up to check on her, to make sure she was still breathing, still there. rafe had left a baby monitor on the nightstand—said it was from his niece. hadn’t used it in a while, but it still worked.

you listened to the sound of her soft breathing through it. in. out. safe.

your eyes didn’t close until nearly dawn.

he was already gone when you woke up. a note on the counter said he had a shift but would be back around six. there was cereal in the pantry, cartoons on the tv, and extra diapers under the sink—he’d picked some up before leaving, just in case.

you sat on the couch with your daughter in your lap, heart aching at how easily she smiled at the animated characters on screen. like nothing had happened. like she hadn’t been in your arms, screaming for her life twelve hours ago.

you buried your face in her hair and let yourself cry, finally.

not loud. not messy. just silent tears that soaked into her curls while she giggled at the screen.

he came home tired, smelling faintly of smoke and soap. his eyes scanned the room until they found you.

“everything okay?”

you nodded. “thank you for the diapers.”

he smiled. “no problem. she likes elmo, huh?”

“she’s obsessed.”

he nodded like he’d take note of that. maybe he did.

three days turned into a week.

he never pried. never asked questions you weren’t ready to answer. he just let you be. gave you space. cooked sometimes. let you use the laundry. let your daughter nap on his chest after she got comfortable enough to reach for him.

“you’re good with her,” you said one evening, watching them on the couch.

rafe shrugged. “my sister’s got twins. i babysit sometimes.”

you nodded. watched as your daughter tugged gently on his nose and made him laugh.

you hadn’t heard her laugh like that since before the fire.

you found a temporary shelter that would take you in after two weeks. filled out forms. stood in long lines. tried to ignore how heavy your feet felt as you packed the baby’s things into the bag rafe lent you.

he didn’t say much when you told him. just helped you load the car.

when you turned to say goodbye, he just looked at you with that same quiet steadiness.

“you ever need anything,” he said, “you know where i’m at.”

you nodded. “thank you, rafe. for everything.”

he looked at your daughter. gave her a little wave.

“stay safe, sweetheart.”

she smiled at him. reached for him one last time.

you let her.

you didn’t know if you’d see him again.

but a week later, when the shelter lost power in a storm, you didn’t even hesitate before calling.

he picked up on the second ring.

“you two need a place to stay?” he asked.

you swallowed. “if it’s still okay.”

“always.”

and just like before—he opened his door.

no questions asked.

just steady arms and warm light.

and a place to land.

author’s note

i really enjoyed writing this! hope uguys enjoyed <3

[missmarveledsblog]

Hand on heart (Jake Seresin x Singlemom!reader)

chapter one

summary : coming to new place is scary , but the adventures along the way might not be right ?

warnings : none not really mainly fluffy fluff

also pic i made doesnt respresent reader description i just needed it for the photo i will try keep reader free for all but she is f.a.b

Battles in life can either motivate or terrify a person , the course of life shifts abruptly from one course to another in a split second . Waking up to a note a couple month before birth well it shifted one battle to a whole new one . From thinking it was all perfect to wondering what she was blinded to , while now she was facing a new battle, one that may have been the most challenging yet .

A lengthy road trip to a new life and a toddler wasn’t what she would have pictured, not in the slightest . But it was a job that paid well and provided daycare , a contract with in her reason and time difficulties she’d be stupid not to take it . She was even able to find a nice home for a reasonable price , maybe it was scary , it was all new and frankly she was terrified of messing up but shit her grandmother didn’t raise her to run from a challenge but to face it head on ,she would be david conquering goliath .

The moment she pulled into her new driveway exhaling as she knew the challenge of trying to move a sleeping toddler was about as careful and stealthy as moving a bomb. Belle was out cold , tired of staying awake in the confines of the dreaded car seat. Slowly getting out the car walking up the driveway heading to the new how opening the door , putting the sleeping toddler on the sofa as she set up the travel cot before then transferring . a quiet celebration of her success as she began getting to work , unpacking the boxes in the kitchen . time was of the essence knowing she couldn’t really well slack off , rest and relaxing could happen once it was all finished. House and belle came first and then she could worry about herself that was for sure. Doing it all alone would always be a scary concept something she made her peace with when she was standing on her grandmothers porch at the age of twenty one with a big bump thinking back it was ridiculous getting married , she graduated early and started college a little earlier , even while she was pregnant. What helped most was the scholarships and the help from her grandmother now twenty four she was doing the best of what she could.

Belle graciously slept for an hour upon arrival and confused whines walking up in the new environment that told her the toddler needed her attention more than the unpacking did . she at least got some of the baby’s room done and beds for both of them to sleep in that night.

“ hey pretty girl , look where we are “ she cooed lifting her up as the little fist rubbed the sleep from her eyes . “ you hungry ?” only for a whine to fall from the toddlers lips .

“fries “ she cried out .

“ fries it is “ she chuckled bringing her to change her diaper first as the toddler still out of sorts and hungry was looking for her fries . “ ok ok grumpy butt lets go get you fed “ she chuckled as they headed out the car handing the toddler a cracker to hold her over and well so she could concentrate on the road. Til she seen the fast food chain of restaurants and slightly praying it wasn’t too crazy inside. She noticed a group in the far corner was about it but other than that the place was completely empty , void of any others which probably most perfect outcome . standing she barely kept her attention on anyone bar the pint sized human holding her hand and the menu . not knowing that the new life she was starting was going to clash with the old one . turning she took other side not wanting to let the toddler disturb the group and yet their uniforms looked familiar .

Two weeks previous :

“ glad to finally have you on board mrs l/n “ captain pete mitchell smiled showing her around the base .

“ you guys seem persistent to have me on your team “ she laughed nervously never really considering working for the navy hell she never knew they had aviation she was sure it was all sea base.

“ You're the best of the best i’d take it as a compliment , you're a mother too I hear ?” He smiled brightly .

“ a freshly turned two year old little girl named Belle who would totally be so jealous now “ she chuckled. “ she is going through a flying phase. My best friend took her to see an airshow and she's been obsessed since,” she explained.

“ please bring her to visit and your husband or partner too “ he lead her into the empty hanger.

“ oh its just me on my own “ she winced ready for the sympathy pity or judgy looks .

“ Well then bring yourself and the little future aviator ” he patted her shoulder as he began to show her around , showing her where everything was held the tools and parts , order sheets and inventory . She never was so excited to start working; it was always her dream to work in aeronautical engineering . She was always into the ways of flying machines from commercial to well fighter jets such as the ones she would be working with . life was never anyway easy , her mom was in and out of rehab all her life before completely up and leaving altogether , her dad well wasn’t much better either, only the man left before she could walk to do what he wanted . one woman she could always count on was her grandmother and two big brothers , no matter what the woman held her up only she died six months which was why she was moving now . how much she helped with everything from the pregnancy and even when she returned home after she woke up alone . As they talked, she could see the group passing by into the hanger, those uniforms of the khaki color all laughing and joking, and she and Pete headed down to finish the final bits of paperwork .

Present:

“Oh i think mama will be working with them “ she cooed as belle was more concerned with the tray of food than the words of her mother .

“ hey y/n is that you ?” a voice called only for her to see her future boss walking toward her .

“ hey captain mitchell how are ya “ she smiled brightly .

“ please even in the hanger it just pete .. this must be the future aviator belle” he smiled only .

“ she is beautiful little girl “ a man spoke only to see couple people standing with her new boss .

“ dagger squad this is the new aeronautical engineer that starting next week mrs y/n and this is here is going to be a future aviator miss belle who i hope will come visit the hanger soon “ he chuckled as the two year old cooed up at him .

“ nice to meet you both ma’am name phoenix call me nat this is bob and fanboy and the one who looks like his ovaries are about to explode is rooster “ she chuckled .

“ he’s worst then a woman with babies “ fanboy snorted .

“ how can i not be look at her little hands that french fry is bigger than it “ rooster chuckled.

“ belle you wanna say hi “she asked softly.

“ hiya “ she shyly said almost hiding her face as she did so .

“ i want one “ the man sighed .

“Ok moving on from that welcome to san diego “ nat smiled shooting her friend weird look .

“ would y’all like to join us looks like it getting busy in here” she looked around as the table began filling .

“ we’d love to , i’ll sit with you while they get the food would you like anything ? belle ?” phoenix asked.

“ frieesss “ the toddler smiled happily .

“ coming up ma’am ?” rooster stood .

“ it’s y/n please less of the ma’am and i’m fine let me give you money for her fries” she went to grab her bag only for them to walk off .

“ it’s on us “ he called back .

“ so good another female is working in the hangar honestly thank you “ nat chuckled .

“ i mean it’s same with my field it mainly men i barely worked with a handful of women “ she snorted.

“ well we heard you made cyclone sweat so your already a big league “ .

“ i think cause i’m younger some don’t take me serious and being female i’m sure you know “y/n explained handing belle her bottle.

“ yeah did you start college at twelve “ nat joked .

“ well not that early actually i was just gone sixteen “ she snorted .

“ wait so your like one of those genius kids that cool and belle i’m sure is following “ nat cooed at the baby.

“ she is very clever for her age just hope she settles well this is so different from texas “ .

“ i’m sure she will love it here”

“ its all new but i mean all new things are scary kinda glad i bumped into y’all make it slighty easier” she smiled weakly .

“ oh its not too bad i mean they can be bone heads but their sweethearts .. don’t tell them i said that though “ nat winked .

“ well i look forward to looking forward to working with you all i am excited i’ve worked on jets before but commercial ones and some classified but i can’t talk about those” she wiped belles face easily following along with the conversation .

“ well we could use your hands i mean last guy was so old he was starting to get sort of sloppy and the replacement is going for deployment so i think that’s why they’re doing the whole civilian contract sort of thing “ nat shrugged as the guys came back to the table rooster blowing the fries before hovering them over the tray looking at y/n who just nodded as he dunk them on the tray making belle giggle and laugh.

“ so what made you get into engineering ?” fanboy asked slight shoving rooster out of the way to sit next to her.

“ oh my grandpa he was actually in the navy but he used to tell me all about the mechanics of things and i fell in love with it all ,he worked on ships and shipping containers though different side but like belle i was taking to a air show and well fell in love “ she animatedly talked away as they listened and after while rooster and belle were having their own conversation til she was heading out the door with the tired toddler with their numbers in her phone so they could meet up sometime before she started .

“ hot and smart” rooster said easily as they walked into the hard deck .

“ way out of your league way too smart to even fall for any of your dumb asses “ nat snorted .

“ i mean i don’t swing that way and they're not that bad but thanks for the compliment “ the blonde drawled .

“ her accent is way better than that too “ rooster sighed sitting down .

“ wasn’t talk about you seresin i was talking about our new engineer we met her when we went to get food “ nat smirked .

“ wow how hot we talking “ javy no longer interested in the game .

“ very she bit young though i think she twenty something and the cutest little girl ever” nat smiled brightly.

“ oh kid yeah i’m out “ jake snorted .

“ hey belle is the cutest two year old i’ve ever seen “ rooster defended .

“ how many two year olds do you know chicken ?” jake smirked .

“ not many but she is the coolest “

“ roosters ovulating aside he isn’t wrong , a sentence i never thought i would say “ nat gasped jokingly.

“ wanna say it again so i can record it “ he winked.

“ nope anyways she starts next week once little belle is settled in daycare so none of you jackasses scare her off “ nat warned them all .

“ for once you don’t need to worry about me moms are too messy “ jake shrugged heading off to the bar .

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