#I should check up in him and see how he's doing...

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Winter's Child

Summary: Bucky Barnes x fe!Reader -> You and your daughter live across the hall from Bucky. However, one night when your daughter won't settle, you turn to him for help.

Disclaimer: A lot of fluff, angst, hurt/comfort vibes. This is also a long fic. Bucky is not a step-dad but a dad who steps up. Brief mentions of abandonment, heavy on the Found Family, cute fluffy date moments between Reader and Bucky. Yelena and Kate being a duo, slight swearing. Not fully proof read.

You were at your wits end. At least, you thought you were until a handwritten letter slipped under your door at nine am on the dot a week ago. 

A noise complaint. 

You were a single, new mom of one. And instead of helping, three of your neighbours – two of whom had children of their own – decided to file a noise complaint against you. 

First, it was sleepless nights with a newborn. Then it was three weeks of convincing male doctors that your baby was, in fact, sick and it wasn’t you just being dramatic. And now…it was teething. 

You’d barely had a minute to yourself in several months. Family helped you where they could, but one night was all they would do in terms of babysitting. 

You had five piles of laundry that either needed washing, drying, folding or putting away. Your apartment was over-run with household chores that needed doing, you felt like you were on auto-pilot as you moved through your home. 

And every time you’d just get your baby to sleep, someone upstairs decided that it was time for yet another rearrangement of furniture because it didn’t fit the ‘movement’ of his vibe. 

“What?” You were practically crying yourself. “What is it? I’ve tried everything. Please, just tell me what to do. Please.”

Nothing was working. You didn’t want another noise complaint in fear of someone suggesting you should move out. It took years for you to find a safe place that was within walking distance of a good school. 

Obviously, you’d planned the whole ‘having a baby’ thing happening differently than being single and alone the whole time. But it was the quiet moments, the moments where your baby laughed and smiled that made your heart lighten a little. 

But at two am, exhausted and desperate – that was not one of those moments. 

You’d never know why – you could only ever guess - but an idea popped into your head. And you could only pray it would work. 

Bucky had just closed his front door when someone knocked on it. It was hurried and for a moment, he felt for his side-arm. 

But when the knock was followed by a baby’s cry, he lowered his hand. By the time he opened the door, he was greeted with you - his neighbour. 

“I’m so sorry, I really really am-”

You looked like Hell. Bucky had been on a ten day mission in Serbia and had the crap kicked out of him twice – and somehow you looked worse. 

“But she won’t stop crying and I don’t know what to do. I don’t want another noise complaint or to be kicked out. I know this is really rude and I am sorry but, please. Is there-”

Bucky stepped forward and scooped the baby from your arms for a moment. He held her up, letting her little legs dangle in the air for a moment whilst he checked her over. 

It was like he’d performed some kind of miracle. 

Your baby had stopped crying. 

Bucky could see you in the corner of his eye. It looked like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, only to come crashing back down. 

“How do you do that?”

Bucky shrugged with a small smile as he cradled your baby in his arms. “I had kid sisters growing up. Ma was always run off her feet.”

“I’m really sorry about this, Bucky.”

He just shook his head. “Don’t be. You said you got a noise complaint?”

You nodded, leaning against the wall beside his door. “A week ago. Someone slipped it under my door. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to sign it, I’ve not exactly been a quiet neighbour these last few months.”

Bucky shook his head. “You’re doing your best. Ignore the noise complaint. If you get any more, give them to me, I’ll get it sorted.”

“No, you don’t-”

“If they’d bothered to help, then someone might be able to say they're just in their complaint. But they haven’t. So nothing is right about it. Want me to put her down?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I’ll show you.”

As Bucky walked inside your apartment, cradling your sleeping daughter in his arms, you couldn’t help but feel guilty. You were her mom. You should be able to do it without having to knock on your neighbour’s door in the middle of the night. 

And you knew it wasn’t the first time he’d helped you, either. 

At six months pregnant when she was kicking you like she was about to be the next World’s Greatest Football player, you had to pause outside your door, leaving your grocery bags on the floor for a moment. 

Bucky had just left his apartment when he saw you. In your small exchange, which most of your conversations were, you helped him press his hand to your stomach. 

It was one big kick. 

“Kid, you’ve gotta be nice to your mom,” Bucky had warned. 

The kicks stopped. 

Bucky had also helped when your baby was five months old. You were carrying her on your hip whilst balancing the baby bag and two bags of groceries. Bucky had just, again, left his apartment when he asked if you needed any help. 

“Can you hold her for a second?”

Bucky took her without question and the soft babbles had turned into quiet solitude as she laid her head on his shoulder. Bucky also took one of the grocery bags from you as you searched for your door key. 

Once you’d thrown everything inside the door, you took your baby back who, within the space of sixty seconds, had grown rather attached to your neighbour. 

Which was also clear in the way her little fists held onto his shirt as he carefully lowered her into her crib. 

“I’m really sorry about this.”

Bucky shook his head. “Don’t be. I’m happy to help.”

If Bucky was being honest, he was more than happy to help. When he’d first moved in, a lot of the tenants in the building had avoided him. A few even complained about him living there considering he was an ex-assassin. And he couldn’t blame them. He still blamed himself sometimes. 

But you were one of the few that didn’t treat him like that. You treated him like he was just an average human living across the hall from you. So, helping you and your daughter where you asked him to – it gave him another sense of normalcy. 

Something he found to be very rare in his line of work. 

“You know, if you ever need help, all you have to do is ask.” Bucky told you as you walked him to the door. 

You shook your head. “I already feel bad asking you to help me get her to sleep.”

Bucky turned on his heel and looked at you. “You don’t have to feel bad about that. You’re a mom trying to do it all. You’re allowed to ask for help, Y/n.”

That still didn’t stop the guilt, though. 

You’d opted to have the baby on your own. There had been other options, but they just simply were options you didn’t want to take. You’d chosen to do it on your own, which meant continuing to do it on your own. 

“Thank you, Bucky. For everything you’ve done so far.”

You bid him goodnight, feeling the continuing guilt settle in your stomach but gratitude wash over your home. Your baby was fast asleep, and for the first time in months, you got a full night’s sleep. 

When you woke up, you checked on your daughter to find her still fast asleep. So, you took the time you had to finish cleaning your apartment. 

You were folding the third pile of clean laundry when someone knocked on your door. When you answered it, you stalled for a moment. 

“Bucky, what are you-”

“I know you’re not gonna ask unless you’re out of options, so I’m giving you an option to take,” he told you. “When you need help, or need a break, call me.” 

He handed you a post-it note with his phone number on. 

“Bucky, I can’t-”

“Yes, you can. And I want you to.” Bucky pressed. “You’re one of the few people outside of my job that treats me like a person. And, just because you’re a mom, doesn’t mean you should constantly be treated like one. You’re a person, too, Y/n. You deserve the help.”

You were completely shocked. Bucky was…an Avenger. He was someone who helped save the world, twice. But he was offering to help you and your baby. 

You lowered the post-it note. “Would you have any idea how to fix a kitchen cupboard?”

Bucky smiled, feeling a wave of relief wash over him that you were actually asking. 

He nodded, “Let me get my tools.”

Your brows furrowed. “You have tools?”

He laughed, “I have tools.”

What you thought was just going to be an afternoon turned into two years of frequent help – even when you never asked – and a growing friendship. 

The routine of helping you and your daughter also helped Bucky. It helped ground him after a tough mission. One that, if he went home alone, would be playing over in his mind until the nightmares all mixed into one. 

Even the team noticed the change in Bucky. He seemed lighter, happier and calmer. But the only one who knew the truth behind the change was Sam. Mainly because he’d seen the photo on Bucky’s desk at work. 

A picture of himself, you and a toddler who was holding the camera. 

“You should invite them over for dinner,” Sam told him one afternoon. 

“You think so?”

Sam nodded, taking the beer from Bucky. “Yeah, why not? She’s been your neighbour for years. I know you’ve had a crush on her, for like, ever.”

“I don’t have a crush-”

“You’ve got a crush.” Sam told him. “And, it’s about time we meet your future wife.”

“Sam.”

Sam just laughed. “Oh, come on, man. You know I’m right. I’ve seen the way you look at your phone when she calls you. I’ve also seen the look on your face when you find out it’s her daughter wanting to update you about her day. What a two year old has going on in her life, other than apple sauce packets, is beyond me.”

“She went on her first playdate and helped someone make friends. It was a big day for her.”

“Ha, see! Buck – accept it or deny it, they’re your family. Which makes them ours, too.”

Bucky sighed. “I’ll ask, but if she says no-”

“Then we’ll let it slide.”

Bucky pulled his phone from his pocket. “And you’ll make sure Kate doesn’t stalk her online.”

Sam held up his hands. “You have my word.”

Thankfully for everyone involved, you agreed. A week later, you were unbuckling your daughter from her car seat whilst she tried to scramble away and towards the crowd of Avengers who were laughing and chatting over a barbeque. 

That was when a small pair of lungs squealed at the top of their voice, “Bucky!”

Your daughter was running, ignoring your call of being careful before she fell, towards her favourite person. And you had to admit, aside from your daughter, he was yours, too. 

You watched as Bucky stopped his conversation with Sam Wilson and turned to jog towards your daughter. By the time they reached each other, Bucky lifted her into the air as she squealed with more happiness. 

“Hey, firecracker. How was pre-school?”

“Good!”

Resting her on his arm, Bucky talked to her and waited for you to reach him. “Really? You gonna tell me about it?”

You smiled, “Only if you want your ears to fall off.”

Bucky chuckled. “Didn’t need them anyway.” 

You stopped just short of him and he led the way over to the table that was still being set up. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to everybody.”

You’d had anxiety for a week over agreeing to the BBQ. What would they think? Would they hate you? Would it be awkward? 

But after twenty minutes, everything felt…normal. You helped a very chatting Kate Bishop and a calmer Laura Bishop set the table for the multitude of Avengers and kids that were attending the BBQ. 

People hugged, laughed, asked as many questions as they could – most of them coming from your daughter who, despite attaching herself to Bucky for most of the day, wanted to know everything she could about everyone she was with. 

And they answered every one of her questions. 

By the time the stars were peeking out behind the few clouds that remained in the sky, your daughter waddled her way over to you from where Kate had let her back onto her feet, and you picked her up. 

As you finished your conversation with Natasha, you started packing away what you could with a sleeping child on your shoulder when Tony appeared. 

“Why don’t you stay? You should stay. We’ve got plenty of room and the roads can be dangerous, really, at night. You should stay.”

You tried to shake your head, but Natasha stood. “Just say yes before he says he found a fault with your car.”

“That’s a generous offer, Mr Stark-”

“Tony, please. And don’t sweat it. Come on, I’ll show you.”

You don’t remember agreeing but somewhere between Tony showing you inside to the compound and a sudden new message alert that a scan of your car had resulted in a few, rather dangerous faults being found, you were putting your daughter to be at the Avengers Compound. 

And then you were being led back into the living area where everyone was sitting around the coffee table talking. And the only available spot left was right beside Bucky. 

He sat you beside him with ease. Too much ease to be normal between friends. Not that you were complaining. There was safety with Bucky, in a way you couldn’t describe. 

Of course, when you felt his fingers trace up and down your arm lightly, you felt your cheeks heat. But you still felt safe. Not so nervous where you felt like running in the opposite direction, but nervous enough to enjoy being with him. 

And after an hour or so, Yelena walked back inside with a little hand holding onto her finger. 

“Someone wanted to join the party,” Yelena said as she led your daughter over to you where she climbed into yours, and technically, Bucky’s lap. 

Bucky smoothed down the back of her hair as she rubbed her eyes. 

“Don’t you want to go to sleep, honey?”

She shook her head, and pouted. “No. Not without you and Bucky.”

Bucky smiled softly, “C’mere, kiddo.”

Leaning over, your daughter settled herself between you and Bucky before leaning her head against his side. 

“Okay, that is way too cute,” Kate said as she pulled out her phone and snapped a few pictures. 

As conversations started up again, your daughter fell into a deep sleep against Bucky. Something you almost did yourself until you managed to gain enough energy to lift yourself from the sofa and carry your child back to bed. 

Bucky followed you, his palm warm on your lower back as he led you down the dimly lit hallways.

However, by the time you woke up in the morning and went to check on your daughter, you found her bed empty. But just as the anxiety that you tried to keep calm spiked in your chest, a voice spoke inside the room. 

“Your daughter is currently interrogating Mr Wilson on his preference of breakfast cereal.”

You relaxed a little. “Of course, she is.”

You were slow to round the corner into the kitchen, wanting to watch your daughter for a few moments. Bucky was right in her nickname; firecracker. She was like some kind of professional quizzer. 

It amazed you some days, at how head-strong she was for such a young age. But you wouldn’t change her for the world. 

Slowly, you lean against the kitchen counter beside your daughter, listening to her explain to Sam about how cheerios were better than eggs, Sam softly arguing back. 

Little did you know, her arguing with Sam would become a frequent image in your own home. 

It seemed, for as much as your daughter had fallen in love with the Avengers, they had fallen in love with her and each one of her questions. You started to see Sam at Bucky’s apartment more often, Yelena and Kate would show up at the park when you’d take your daughter out for the day, your daughter’s preschool also started to get a little more funding here and there throughout her school year. 

And on the days where Bucky would offer to pick her up from school when your work ran over, they would turn into sleepover nights at the Compound since you couldn’t pry your daughter from their arms no matter how hard you tried. 

Eventually, you started to feel like family to them. They loved your daughter like one of their own, and she loved them right back. If anyone at school said that Captain America was less cool than Iron Man, or that Kate wasn’t the better Hawkeye or that anyone on the team wasn’t as cool as your daughter thought they were; she would defend them to her last breath. 

But the one she defended most passionately was Bucky. How he wasn’t scary but actually really kind and funny, even if he was grumpy sometimes. And how his metal arm was like having a normal one – he could still feel everything the same. Almost. 

She even drew him in all of her pictures when it came to her art class. Which, one day, turned into a list of questions which she just so happened to ask out loud one morning when Bucky had just made her breakfast. 

“Are you like my dad?”

Everyone in the kitchen stopped what they were doing to look at your daughter. But her gaze was focused on her breakfast and the picture she’d made at school the day before. 

“Why do you ask, honey?” You asked her softly, leaning down beside her. 

“Because Jeremy said I couldn’t have a ‘Bucky’. I had a mommy, so I needed a daddy, too.”

You felt your heart sink a little in your chest. “Honey…” 

You didn’t quite know what to say. Her biological dad hadn’t been in the picture since he’d seen the positive pregnancy test on your bathroom counter. 

“Jeremy was wrong.”

“He was?” 

You nodded. “Yeah. Look around you, baby girl. I know you don’t exactly have a daddy, but you do have people that love you.”

That was when your daughter looked around to the other people in the kitchen for reassurance. They all agreed that Jeremy was wrong. 

“Truth is, honey, maybe not everyone has a daddy, but not everyone has a ‘Bucky’ either.”

Steve smiled, “And that makes you extra special, kid.”

Your daughter smiled  before turning around in her stool and hopping down before walking over to Bucky who picked her up instantly. 

She hugged him around his neck. “I love you.”

Bucky was on the edge of tears. “Love you, too, firecracker.”

Later that night, Bucky put her to bed whilst you finished up in the kitchen. You’d offered to make dinner but since half of them got called out on a mission and Bucky was already being used as a human pillow for your four year old, Kate took his place on the mission. 

So, you’d packed the dinner into different take-away containers and stocked them into the fridge and freezer, along with a couple of post-it notes on how long to reheat. 

You were wiping down the counters when Bucky walked back inside. 

“She okay?”

“Out like a light,” Bucky smiled. “Mind if I ask you something?”

You nodded. “Always.”

“Earlier…when she asked me…what happened to her dad?”

You stopped cleaning for a moment before you took a breath. 

Bucky had lived across the hall from you for a while, even before you were pregnant. But he’d never seen someone in your life long enough to consider they would be your partner. 

“We’d been dating for a couple months, but since he lived closer to my workplace, I stayed at his house more often than he did mine. His house was also closer to his work, so it meant we could spend longer together in bed. Pretty sure it was one of those mornings when I got caught…” You took your time, and Bucky let you. 

If you had told him you didn’t want to talk about it, he would have backed off and waited. You didn’t have to tell him anything, but he was glad you were. 

“But, as we hit the three month mark, I started getting a weird feeling. More than I ever have before. Woman’s intuition told me he wasn’t exactly staying loyal. But it felt like more than that, so…I took a test. The minute he saw the two lines he told me he was seeing someone else and that he didn’t want to know about me or the baby, ever. I’ve never heard from him since.”

Bucky couldn’t feel his blood boil. First, a guy who was with you…he let you go. He strayed, cheated and let you go. And then, he abandoned you when you would have needed him the most, and finally…he didn’t even want to meet you or your little firecracker. 

“Well, that’s technically a lie. I heard from some cheap-shot lawyer of his after I sent him some pictures of his daughter’s birth. Just one of her in a hospital onesie and a little hat that one of the nurses had knitted for her. She was so little,” you smiled as you thought back to those first moments where you held her and heard her cry. 

“What did the lawyer say?”

“That he was giving up all parental rights. He wanted to make sure, as far as the law knew, he didn’t have a daughter.”

“He’s…something I would say if there wasn’t a four year old sleeping down the hallway.”

You chuckled. It was nice to know someone was just as angry, if not more so, at the thought of someone not wanting to know your daughter. 

“I guess I was kind of lucky in a way, though.”

Bucky looked up at you from the counter. 

“If he did want to know her, she might not have had you. I might not have…I probably would have moved closer, for the baby’s sake.”

Bucky let the breath go from his lungs. “God, I can’t imagine not having you both in my life.”

You smiled, “Luckily, you don’t have to. We’re both lucky to have you, Bucky. And I’m glad we do.”

Bucky smiled back at you, his heart rate increasing just that little bit more. He managed to look away before you caught the flush in his cheeks. 

A few months later, you were at home finishing up your third load of washing for the week when someone knocked at your door. 

“Kate? Yelena?”

Kate’s expression held nothing but relief as she turned around and faced the door when you answered. “Oh, thank god.”

“What’s going on?” You asked them as they walked into your home. Yelena was carrying several different garment bags whilst Kate carried two more and dragged a small make-up trolly behind her. 

“We need your help.”

“What on earth for?”

You closed the door, balancing the laundry basket on your hip as they turned around to face you. 

“We need you to attend Pepper’s gala tonight.”

“What- Why?”

Kate looked at Yelena who nodded. 

“Because you do.”

“Girls, I’m gonna need a better explanation than that.”

Yelena rolled her eyes as she dropped the bags onto the sofa. “God, you’re such a mom.”

“Yelena.”

Yelena just fixed her hair. “We need you to be someone’s date.”

“Can I ask who this someone is?”

“It’s-”

“No.” Yelena cut Kate off. “You can’t know because it’s a surprise. So, enough questions. Give me that.” 

Yelena took the laundry basket from you and pushed you along down the hallway. Meanwhile, she pulled out the worn hair tie from your hair. 

“Yeah, you need to get washed first. Use your fancy stuff.”

“Yelena-”

“Go, now. Please.”

You gave a small huff as you got into the bathroom. “Fine. But only because you said please.”

Yelena smiled before she shut the door. “Thank you.”

By the time you’d finished your everything shower, along with the fancier shampoo you tended to save for dates and nights out – a shampoo that’s only use was before parent-teacher meetings, or any place you had to look like you hadn’t been up half the night reading parenting books. 

You were rushed into your guest bedroom where Yelena sat you down at the vanity desk. Meanwhile, Kate was lying with your daughter on the bed, looking through different eyeshadow colours, naming them all. 

“Katie knows a lot of colours, momma.”

Kate smiled. “I really do. Hey, you know what this one is called?”

Your daughter shook her head. 

“Aquamarine.”

“Aq…aquaamarr-”

“Aquamarine,” Kate repeated a little slower and your daughter copied. 

An hour and many more unanswered questions later, Yelena had finished your hair whilst Kate was helping you apply your make-up. 

You had been planning a quiet night in. More than likely, it would have ended with you watching the last half an hour of a Disney movie alone whilst your daughter snored herself to sleep on the sofa. 

“Okay, dress time.”

Kate stood and opened up each garment bag. “Which one?” She asked your daughter. 

“Don’t I get to pick?”

“You don’t know the plan, momma.” Your almost five year old, told you. 

“There’s a plan?”

Kate shrugged. “There’s always a plan.”

It took a total of seven minutes and a game of ‘left or right’ to decide on your dress. A floor length gown with a high slit up one leg. There was a soft shimmer to the fabric like you’d been spritzed with body glitter beforehand.  

All three girls gasped as you stepped out from behind your dressing divider. 

“Wow, momma,” your daughter seemed mesmerised. “You look beautiful like the stars.”

You smiled, “Thank you, babygirl.” Then you turned to the two elders. “Will you answer my questions now?”

They smiled, like they knew something you didn’t. But before you could get your answers, someone knocked on the door. 

“I’ll get it!” Your daughter sprung from the bed, quickly followed by Yelena. 

“You really do look beautiful, Y/n.”

You smiled. “Kate, what’s going on?”

She just smiled back. “You’ll see.”

As you tightened your shoes a little, you heard your daughter call out for you. 

“You can come out now, momma!”

And as you did, it was like your breath had been taken from you. 

By your door, Bucky was standing wearing a tux. You’d always known he was handsome, but there was just something about a man in a tux…

You felt yourself smile as you walked closer. “I thought you were away-”

“I know, I was. But…I managed to finish early. You look…” Bucky was lost for words. Or maybe he had too many. 

Stunning, gorgeous, beautiful, breathtaking…

“She looks beautiful like stars,” your daughter jumped in. And he had to agree. 

“You’re right, firecracker. You look beautiful like stars.”

You blushed and smiled. “Thank you.”

Then Yelena jumped in. “Right, off you go.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry,” she pushed you both towards the door as Kate opened it. “We’ll make sure the little firecracker gets to bed before you’re home. She’ll be safe. She’s with two avengers.”

You knew that was true. But, you also knew there was a chance they wouldn’t be safe. Yelena was a trained spy, but Kate? Kate would crack under the pressure of your little girl's thousand and ten questions questionnaire. 

Before you knew it, you were being waltzed inside of the venue that had been rented out by Pepper’s company for the charity gala. All the while, holding onto Bucky’s hand and arm. 

“This is a lot of people,” you whispered to him. 

“We only have to show our faces for an hour. Two max. Then we can ditch.”

“Wouldn’t have taken you for a ditcher,” you told him, a little surprise in your voice. 

He chuckled. “No. Ma would have killed me for skipping school, not that I ever did. I actually enjoyed it. It was fun when Steve wasn’t getting his ass kicked. But, for things like this? It’s not my favourite thing in the world.”

You shrugged. You couldn’t blame him. It was lovely; getting ready, witnessing Bucky in a tux for the first time, feeling a little less guilty about leaving your daughter for the night. But there were a lot of people. People who you didn’t know. And you doubted Bucky knew, either. 

“But it’s better having you here with me.”

You whipped your gaze away from the crystal chandeliers, to your date. You covered the butterflies in your stomach with a soft smile. 

Before you could say anything, someone called your name. And then Bucky’s. 

It was Pepper. 

She introduced you both to different people before she was called away by someone else. 

Although it was a lot, it was easier having Bucky by your side. It was rare his hand ever left yours. At one point, his fingers had intertwined with yours and there was no way you were going to cut that off. 

By the second turn of the venue, looking at the items that were going to be auctioned off for charity, you and Bucky tried to sneak away from the crowd for a while. Only, you were caught in a conversation with a couple who – despite their fortune and education – didn’t know when to end a conversation. 

Half way through their very boring conversation, a thought passed through your head. Bucky could have fucked you right there and then, and they still would have carried on the conversation. 

But you pushed that thought away as quickly as it came. Although, it did try to resurface every ten minutes, when Bucky’s other hand would warm your lower back, your other hip or, briefly, the top of the slit in your dress. 

“We really should be going.”

You and Bucky managed to escape. But only for ten minutes. Because the couple were coming back. 

“Shit,” you swore under your breath. But Bucky beat you to it. “Fuck-”

You were pulled down a small corridor that led to the back of another room filled with  items up for auction, before being pulled into the smaller, darkened alcove in the wall. 

The couple passed you both right by, without being noticed. 

In the confined space, you and Bucky stayed as quiet as you could. Your hands were on his chest, letting you know that you weren’t alone with the rapid heartbeat in your ears. Though, his was a little calmer than your own. 

His own hands remained fixed on your hips, holding you steady on your feet. For a split second, he shifted and his knee brushed your inner thigh. 

You bit your lip and closed your eyes. 

Then you felt his hands lightly trace up your body. Your breath hitched. 

“Is everything okay?” Bucky asked you, his voice in a soft whisper by the shell of your ear. 

You nodded and answered quietly. “It’s fine.”

With Bucky’s gaze on you, you started to realise just how small the alcove was. The scent of his cologne was intricately lodging itself into your mind – any time you’d smell that scent, you’d been pulled right back into the alcove. 

Then, with a breathy chuckle, he smiled. “Want to get out of here?”

No. 

“Think the coast is clear?”

Please don’t be.

Bucky peered around the corner before he turned back and nodded. 

“Let’s go.”

Let’s stay. 

With Bucky’s hand in yours, he swiftly got you both out of the venue unnoticed. It wasn’t until you were half way down the block, and Bucky was laying his jacket over your shoulders, that you realised you’d forgotten your coat. 

“But, you’ll get cold.”

Bucky just smiled. “I’ve got the serum. I can’t get cold, doll.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he assured you. 

And for a while, you both just talked. About the night, about the couple that couldn’t seem to take a hint and the fact Bucky had come back early. 

And then he asked you to dance.

“There’s no music.”

“We don’t need music. Come on.”

The street was completely empty. A couple of street lamps lit the way, and every once in a while, a taxi would drive down the main road ahead. But other than that, it was just you and Bucky. 

“Is this what you used to do?” You asked him after a few moments. “Take a girl out, ask her to dance under the streetlights with you. Bet you were a real heartbreaker.”

Bucky chuckled softly. “Maybe. Just a little. But if this was a date, I would have done this-” Bucky softly dipped you in his arms. “By now.”

He was slow to bring you back to your feet, your forehead against his, your lungs in need of some air despite already being outside. 

His palm burned a little on your back. You just wished it would make a permanent mark. 

“Does that make this a date now?”

“I don’t know. I’d like it to be,” he admitted to you, honestly. “If I asked you on one, officially, would you say yes?”

“I wouldn’t want to lose you, Bucky.”

“I promise you won’t. If it goes badly, we can laugh about it later. Just, say yes?”

It took you a short moment, but you nodded. “Okay. Yes.”

Bucky walked you back home. And by the time you opened up your door, you walked in to find Kate, Yelena and your daughter all fast asleep on the sofa, the bright colours of the Disney Princess film flashing across their faces. 

“Do you want to get her out of the tangle?” You asked Bucky. “I would but I’m afraid to get a fist to my face.”

Bucky chuckled, softly closing the door as he nodded. Even he knew how it was when trying to wake Kate up. She was a fighter until she opened her eyes and realised who was trying to get her up. 

Bucky got your daughter out with ease and carried her to bed, leaving you to deal with the two sleeping Avengers. 

Meanwhile, down the hall as he laid her in her bed, she woke up briefly. 

“Did you ask her?”

Bucky brushed the baby hairs that had fallen from the braids in her hair. He smiled, “Yeah, I did.”

“Did she say yes?”

He nodded. “She said yes.”

She gave a tired cheer before he kissed her head and tucked her in. “Get some sleep, kiddo.”

The moment she rolled over, she was snoring. And just as Bucky passed the guest bedroom, he could hear two more sets of snoring coming from inside. 

You crept out of the room and softly clicked the door shut. From there, you and Bucky took your time walking back to the front door. 

“About this date-”

“We don’t have to rush anything,” he told you. “If you don’t feel comfortable-”

You smiled. “I was just gonna ask if you’re free on Sunday.”

Bucky was a little surprised but smiled. “I’m free on Sunday. I’ll pick you up at ten?”

It was definitely the earliest date you’d been on. 

“There’s a place I want to show you.”

You nodded, “Okay.”

After picking you up on his motorcycle, Bucky drove an hour out of the city to a small town. The entire main street was taken over by a farmer’s market. There were smaller stalls with different homemade items. 

You and Bucky ended up picking up a few things for a make-shift picnic in the park before he took you to the local watering hole where a live band was playing and people’s shoes were scuffing the wooden floor from dancing. 

“How did you find this place?”

“Barton told me about it.” Bucky told you. “Him and Laura passed through it once before, so I decided to come and check it out. I’ve wanted to show you ever since, but each time I came to tell you, something came up at work so I wouldn’t have been here to show you.”

“But now you are.”

“Now I am,” he told you before he took your hand. “Come with me.”

“Where are we going?”

“We’re dancing.”

It was a small two-step, nothing major. But for you, it felt like everything. Being in his arms again – you knew there would never be another place where you would feel this safe. Feeling his hand in yours, seeing the blush creep up on his cheeks each time you looked at him. 

Slowly, the rest of the room disappeared. The music from the band became nothing more than background noise and the only person you could see was Bucky. 

And when you closed your eyes, and felt his lips against yours, the only thing you could feel was him. 

The light breeze that wafted past the barn doors disappeared, the air of apple pie and ice cold lemonade disappeared from your skin.

The only thing that soaked its way into your bones was the feeling of him. His hand in yours, his other at your opposite hip, holding you flush against him, his belt buckle making a small impression behind the fabric of your outfit. 

It was more than you ever dreamt of. 

The Talk came two weeks later. The one that neither you and Bucky had mentioned, but had to be done. Because it wasn’t just both of you in the relationship, if you were going to continue. 

Your daughter was involved, too. 

“She loves you, Bucky.”

“And I’ll never want to see her hurt, either,” he finished. “I never want to hurt either of you, ever.”

“I know.”

“So, we take it slow,” he offered. “But I think we should involve her, too. You come as a package deal, and I don’t want to ignore that.”

You gave him a small smile. There had been plenty of one-stop dates who had ignored that fact, plenty who had wanted you to come as a single package. 

Bucky was the first. 

So, a few weeks later, when a knock came to your door, your daughter beat you to the door and opened it to find Bucky. 

“Bucky!” 

Your daughter ran for his legs and wrapped her arms around them before she let go and he bent down. 

“Why are you here?”

Bucky looked from your daughter, up to you with a half cocked smile. “I’m here to give you these.”

Behind his back, Bucky pulled out two bouquets of flowers. One was a little bigger than the second. 

He presented the smaller bunch to your daughter before he stood to his full height and handed you the bigger section. 

“And these are for you.”

“Thank you.”

Bucky crouched back down to your daughter. “And I was hoping that you and your mom would want to come with me for the day.”

“Where?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Okay!” Your daughter turned around and ran back inside. 

“Careful, honey. Put your flowers in the kitchen, I’ll put them in some water!”

“Okay!” She yelled back before going to her bedroom to get her shoes. 

With the coast clear, Bucky leaned in and pressed three light kisses to your lips. 

“You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

Bucky closed the door as he entered and you walked into your kitchen to run the tap for some water. 

“So, where are we going?”

He smiled. “It’s a surprise.”

“From me, too?”

He nodded. 

Two minutes later, your daughter came running back down the hall. Bucky managed to scoop her up before she tripped down the small step. 

“Got my shoes!”

“Firecracker?”

“Yes?”

“Your shoes are on the wrong feet, honey,” he told her. She looked down, very confused. 

Bucky popped her on the kitchen island before offering to fix them. Swinging her feet, she nodded. 

As you placed the flowers inside of a vase, finding a smaller one for your daughter’s; you watched as Bucky taught her a trick to always remember her left and right before he reached into one of the cupboard draws and pulled out a small sheet of stickers. 

“When the star touches, then you know they’re on the right feet.”

“So cool.”

A little under an hour later, your daughter was on Bucky’s shoulders, looking with amazement at all the artifacts in the museum. You could see her little brain working overtime to find out all the answers to every question she had, knowing she was going to be telling Kate and Yelena all about it in a few days time. 

After lunch and the second half of the tour, you heard your daughter gasp before she took your hand and dragged you down the hall. 

Secretly having been holding Bucky’s hand, you pulled him with you. 

“Slow down, honey. Where are we going?”

“Come on, you gotta see! Come on!”

By the time you both found yourself in the exhibit room, you looked around and realised why she had seemed so excited. 

The entire thing was dedicated to Captain America. 

“Look, momma. It’s Steve!”

You picked your daughter up and carried her over. “That’s right, honey.”

“Look, Bucky. It’s you.”

Bucky smiled. “That’s me.”

“Why is it not got colours?”

Bucky chuckled. “Because it’s from the 1940s.”

Your daughter watched, puzzled, as a small clip of Bucky and Steve laughing played on the big screen. 

“That’s over 90 years ago.”

“Wow, that’s old.”

You and Bucky chuckled lightly, just before your daughter wiggled her way out of your arms. The moment her feet were planted on the floor, she ran over to the small window where people were standing on the scale. 

The picture didn’t even move. 

“Come here, firecracker.” Bucky scooped your daughter up in his arms and planted himself on the scale. The picture changed and you watched as your daughter looked at herself in uniform. 

However, for a glimpse, you caught Bucky’s face in the reflection. 

You’d seen plenty of pictures, news segments, documentaries and home videos of Bucky both in and out of uniform, back in the 40s. But there was just something in that moment that it hit you- 

Bucky had lived that life. He’d seen that world. If you had met him on the streets of Brooklyn over ninety years ago, you would have been watching him getting shipped out to England. 

“Okay, where to next?”

“Hmm, over there! Come on, momma!”

The little voice, filled to the brim with excitement, broke you out of your trance long enough for you to follow after them. 

However, hours later; long after Bucky had carried your daughter from her car seat and up the steps and into your apartment. You surprised him. 

He was in your kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil as you got dressed into your home clothes. But, when you returned and he felt his heart light up at seeing you as you, he was shocked. 

You hugged him. 

He held back the laugh in his chest. “What’s this for?”

“Just because,” you told him. 

Then you kissed him. 

“And that?”

“That was because I love you.”

Bucky faulted for a moment. He didn’t want to come off too excited in case he’d heard wrong. 

“You love me?”

You nodded. “I love you. I’m in love with you. I have been for a long time, but seeing you today…it just hit me. And I wanted to tell you.”

Then he smiled, keeping his hands on your hips as he pulled you closer. “I’m glad, because I’m in love with you, too.”

A smile broke onto your face before it was kissed away by him, his hands pulling you flush against his body. 

It had taken years for you to realise, and even longer to work up the courage to tell him. 

Who knew all it took was a family trip to the museum? 

Thankfully, those family trips started to become more frequent. As did the solo and family dates you, Bucky and your daughter went on. 

But, for Bucky, nothing beat the date night you and he had after the parent-teacher meeting you both attended just a little under a year of dating. 

It was in that meeting that the teacher gushed over how far your daughter had come in the last year, how incredible her artwork was and how they were looking at moving her up a couple of reading grades. 

Although Bucky wasn’t there to create your daughter, or there to cut the cord. She was like him in so many ways, it was scary. 

The pouting face when she was tired, the overly cute aggressive face she gave when she was getting competitive. And then there was her love for school. Steve had shown you some of Bucky’s old school reports. 

Your daughter was starting to get the same. 

Maybe Bucky wasn’t your daughter’s father by birth, but he was her dad in every way that counted. He dried the tears, cleaned the grazed knees, carried her sleeping frame to bed. 

And after that parent-teacher meeting, it was going to become official. 

He had proposed and you said yes. 

And when your daughter had found out the next morning when you and Bucky went to pick her up from the compound, where Sam and Yelena had been put on babysitting duty, she cried. 

“Can I call you my daddy now?”

Through your own happy tears, you watched Bucky’s own fall. He was hugging your daughter just as tight as she was holding onto him. 

“I’d love nothing more, firecracker.”

[pathologicalreid]

born in a burning house | s.r.

in which an arsonist is going around and abducting children, with your daughter as their next target

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: arson, child endangerment, references the popular kids, the instincts, and amplification, girl dad!spencer, happy ending word count: 4.21k a/n: as my good friend haley would say: baby arson! happy father's day (if you didn't figure out why i was posting every day, it was because of father's day. i'm going to take a nap now.)

Tears that welled in your eyes made it impossible for you to read the papers in front of you. The descriptions of violent crimes being committed against children made your chest feel tight, and you continuously had to hold yourself back from calling your nanny. You trusted Sydney, and she’d been vetted by Penelope, who’d used the strictest scrutiny possible when conducting a background check. 

Tapping on the screen of your phone to wake it up, you were met with an image of your daughter. You had fast enough reflexes to snap a photo of her very first smile. Spencer had the same photo printed out on his desk. 

You took a deep breath, you returned to the case file that Hotch handed you. Someone had already skimmed through it, removing all of the photos before it landed on your desk, protecting you from your job. 

It didn’t take a profiler to know why they’d done it. Someone was going around the tri-state area and abducting children, going younger each time, and each child had turned up dead less than twenty-four hours later. Your daughter was only four months old, you were fresh off of maternity leave, and despite the fact that Hotch had offered you a way out, you were determined to stay on this case. It was your first big one since coming back, and if you couldn’t handle this, you couldn’t handle your job anymore. 

“Hey,” Spencer said from behind you, entering the roundtable room and taking a seat next to you. He eyed the file suspiciously, scrutinizing the details of the page before turning his attention to you. “How are you holding up?” 

Refraining from taking your eyes off of the files, you hummed in response, flipping through the pages before truly answering. “If the UnSub sticks to pattern, they’ll be abducting another baby soon,” you reminded him, “and they’ll go younger.” 

Spencer was quiet for a moment, acknowledging the same thing you’d been anxious about for the past day. The last child who had been abducted was seven months old, a little boy whose mother you’d comforted until you had to excuse yourself. He eyed your phone, “Did you call?” 

“No,” you answered miserably, you’d been holding back. You were afraid of recognizing it as a threat. “Do you think I should?”

He sighed, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “I think that if worrying about Annie gets in the way of working this case, then you should probably call Sydney.”

Nodding slowly, you tapped the screen of your phone again, looking at the photo of your daughter that illuminated the screen. You picked up the phone, deciding you’d make the call out of an abundance of caution, you opened your contacts and dialed Sydney’s number, holding the phone to your ear while it rang. 

And rang. 

And rang. 

When you got her voicemail instead of a real answer, you frowned up at your husband. “Uh, Hey, Syd. Spencer and I just wanted to give you a call to check in and see how Annaliese is doing. Give me a call back.” 

You hung up the phone, pursing your lips at the fact that the action intended to quell your anxiety had only made you more nervous. In the albeit short time you’d known Sydney, you’d never gotten her voicemail, the sound was so foreign to you that it’d taken you a moment to even realize you’d gotten the machine. “What’s going on?” Hotch asked, walking into the roundtable room on the other side, Kate and Derek following close behind him. 

“Uh,” you said, your voice breaking a seal of emotion in your throat. “Our nanny isn’t answering the phone.” You sent her a quick text asking her how it’s going before looking back up at your boss. 

Hotch took one look at you and Spencer before nodding, “Go home and check in.” You stood up from your chair at his direction. He shook his head before you could protest, “Take JJ with you.” 

Just in case. He didn’t have to say the words, but you knew that was his intention of bringing the other agent along with you. It didn’t help the tightness in your chest that he didn’t suggest sending a squad car through your neighborhood before he sent you home. The acknowledgment that your daughter fit the victimology hurt almost as much as the fact itself. 

After Spencer insisted that only one of you needed to go, you passed through the bullpen, grabbing JJ on your way through headquarters. You let her drive, knowing you were too unstable to do so, “What’s the over under on Hotch letting me bring her back to the office?” You asked, trying to break through the thick tension of the SUV.

JJ laughed lightly at your joke—a pity laugh, really—as she turned onto your street. “I don’t know. That little girl kind of has us all…” Her voice trailed off as she noticed something in the distance, and you followed her gaze until you saw it too. 

“Call Spencer,” you said, letting yourself out of the car before it had the chance to come to a full stop. You pushed through the front door, broken off of its hinges, stepped into your home, and drew your weapon. 

Your heart raced while you walked through the eerie silence of your home, clearing the main floor before going upstairs. The first room that you checked was the nursery, decorated with toys that she couldn’t play with yet and stuffed animals that she wasn’t old enough to sleep with. You knew JJ was close behind, hearing the creak of the bannister that you needed to fix while you cleared the bathroom, checking behind the curtain when you noticed the sound of the birds chirping got louder the closer you got to your bedroom. 

With the sound of blood rushing to accompany you, you let yourself into the room, surprised to find the balcony doors were wide open. You rarely left it open anymore, and you definitely wouldn’t have left it like that before leaving for work. Peeking into the bassinet, your heart dropped at the sight of the bare sheets, but something nagged at you, telling you to check the balcony. 

Trusting your instincts, you hesitantly approached the fence, checking out the backyard before looking down. There was Sydney, sitting in a puddle of blood that seemed to be coming from her head. Her green eyes were still open as they stared up at you, blankly pleading with you to help her, but there was no saving her. 

The blood that surrounded her had coagulated, transforming your back patio into a murder scene instead of an entertainment space. “Did you find anything?” JJ asked from the doorway, moving through the room until she was standing next to you, looking down at the horrific picture painted beneath you.

Annie was gone, and her nanny was dead. The only conclusion you could find was that your daughter had been taken, defenseless at only four months old, and based on the way Sydney’s limbs laid at the end of her fall, she’d been pushed—the last line of defense, defeated. 

“Spencer’s on his way,” JJ assured you. “The whole team’s on their way.” 

Along with a small army, you imagined, crime scene techs and local officers and anyone else they could scrounge up on a moment's notice. You were grateful for JJ in the moment, how she stayed with you on the balcony until Spencer arrived. She didn’t tell you anything, and she didn’t try to get you to talk. JJ didn’t need anything from you except for you to keep standing. 

“Reid,” you heard JJ say, overhearing the shuffling of feet before you were turned ninety degrees, positioned face to face with your husband. 

His eyes were lined with red, a mixture of his current emotions and the residual exhaustion from a late night with the baby. Your body was rigid as he pulled you into his arms, your eyes burned as you resisted the need to cry. You refused to succumb to violent tears when your daughter needed you, but you felt Spencer’s silent tears drop onto your neck while he held you. 

Your resolve unraveled in an instant, all of the phones around you started going off, the hauntingly familiar sound of an AMBER Alert bringing all of your emotion to the surface. The first sob wracked through your body while your legs gave out beneath you, the both of you dropping to the floor together. 

Everything that happened in the interim had been a haze, friends and strangers alike walking through your home like you weren’t there. You were sat on the couch with a stuffed bunny that someone had given you to hold onto. It was the one that Annie fell asleep with every night, gripping it with her tiny fingers until you were sure she was asleep, at which point it rested on your nightstand. 

Separate from you, Spencer was in the kitchen with Rossi and Kate, going through every detail of the case while you sat on the couch, unable to do anything except for catastrophize. Whoever had turned on the TV was eligible to win a Least Valuable Player award, leaving you to watch your daughter’s missing persons report flash on the bottom of the news screen. 

Despite the fact that they assumed you’d tuned everyone out, you were listening into their theories about the UnSub. “What do you think he wants with the kids?” Spencer asked, a layer of hesitation blanketing his tone, as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer. 

“Well,” Rossi started his answer, “I think it’s pretty clear at this point that he’s looking for a surrogate, but there’s one thing that’s been off about his victimology.” 

“Gender,” Kate filled in the blank. “He switches from boys and girls sporadically.”

While they shuffled around papers, you traced shapes with your eyes on the textured ceiling of your living room. “Is there a gender he keeps for longer periods?” 

You closed your eyes while you waited for someone to answer, going over the details of the case solitarily while listening into their conversation. “The boys,” Rossi answered regretfully.

“He keeps the boys longer,” Spencer said, pulling a chair out from the kitchen table and taking a seat.

Dragging yourself up from the couch, you walked over to the kitchen at a sloth’s pace, looking at the crime scene photos that were now scattered across your home. No one spoke to you, but they all turned to face you. Expectant looks from everyone went your way, though whether or not they expected you to speak up or break down, you didn’t know. 

When you did speak, your voice was hoarse, and your throat felt like you had spent the last hour swallowing shards of glass. “Do you remember Michael Bridges?”

Kate frowned, “Who’s Michael Bridges?” 

“A little boy from a case we worked in Las Vegas six years ago,” Rossi clarified. 

Patiently, Spencer nodded at you, “He was kidnapped by a woman who was experiencing psychosis after going off her medication while she was pregnant. Her son was taken away from her by the state, so she used the boys as surrogates for her baby.” You weren’t surprised that Spencer remembered the case so well. Aside from his eidetic memory, that case had also caused memories of another little boy to resurface—someone he had known in his childhood. “What made you think of him?” 

You peered at the photos of your daughter that had made their way to the table, “Claire Bates was kidnapping young boys even though her son was only a newborn. Her psychosis was strong enough to convince her that the boys were only infants.” You swallowed thickly, your hands shaking uncontrollably until you wrapped your arms around yourself, “Men abduct kids. Women abduct infants.”

“The UnSub’s a woman,” Kate clarified immediately. 

Nodding, you stepped up to the table, returning to an active role in the case. “A mother,” you continued, “Probably to a little boy, only a few months old.”  

Rossi set his phone on the table, placing his hands on his hips while he waited for Penelope to answer the phone. “Please tell me you found something,” her voice chimed in, not waiting for a traditional greeting before jumping into the case. 

“Garcia, compile a list of accidental deaths of infants four months old and younger within the comfort zone,” he started giving her parameters. “We’re looking for someone who lost a little boy.” 

Penelope sighed on the other end of the call, “Oh, this is a sad list.” 

You leaned over the table, planting your palms on the oak surface for stability, “Penelope, start with accidental deaths and then broaden out to removals from the home.” 

She was quiet for a moment, likely searching for the proper thing to say while her fingers continued frantically typing. “First list, sent, Honey Bunches of Oats,” she told you, the chime of your phone signalling that you’d gotten a list in your email. “Okay, and– oh…” She said, her voice trailing off. 

“What is it?” Dave asked, furrowing his brows at the phone. 

The technical analyst took a deep breath, “Well, you see, two months ago there was an incident in Alexandria. A baby boy named Elijah Holmes was napping in his crib when the house went up in flames while under the care of his babysitter, Natalie. According to the fire department the fire was totally accidental and was caused by faulty wiring, but the mother of the baby has been quoted as putting all of the blame on the sitter. I was just thinking maybe there’s a connection because of how the last victim was found. Maybe. Possibly.” 

You frowned at her implication of a connection, “What was the connection?” You asked generally, looking around the kitchen while you waited for someone to tell you the truth. 

“The most recent victim, the little boy, he was found with burns on his left side,” Kate answered for everyone else.

Glaring at Spencer, you set your jaw while he avoided your gaze. “Penelope, where’s the mom now?” 

Listing off an address, you all grabbed the things you needed before heading out of the front door, you loaded into cars. You and Spencer sat in the backseat on an SUV while Rossi and Kate sat in the front, Penelope conferenced the rest of the team in on the call while you let your anger and fear simmer. “I didn’t think it was pertinent,” Spencer admitted mournfully, telling you what you’d already assumed: he’d been the one to hide the arson aspects of the case from you. 

“And what do you think now?” You said bitterly, refusing to look at him. 

He sighed, “I was wrong.”

Pulling the stuffed bunny from the pocket of your jacket, you set it in between the two of you and sighed. “Yeah,” you murmured ruefully, “You were.” 

Upon arrival at the mother’s new address, a rental that she’d moved into with money from an insurance settlement, Hotch met you and Spencer behind the police line. “You two can’t go in,” he insisted, despite the fact that everyone around you was currently preparing to enter the home. People that Annaliese wouldn’t know crowded the house while you and Spencer were effectively sidelined. 

Derek had positioned himself in front of the both of you, ready to pull you back should you decide to make a run for it, but you resigned yourself to the idea that it would all be over soon. You tried to ignore your racing heart while JJ tried to negotiate with the mother, “Abby Holmes, we know you’re in there.”

You grew more and more impatient as the time went on, and with no response from the UnSub, your hope started to dwindle. “Spence,” you whispered. 

He nodded, acknowledging that he was feeling the same way. “I know,” he muttered back, the stuffed rabbit gripped in his hands. 

Chewing anxiously on your bottom lip, you waited for something to happen, and your heart seized when you heard an alarm going off. From inside the house, a smoke alarm had started going off, and instinctively, you and Spencer both took off running. 

While Derek body blocked Spencer, his only option left was to grab you to pull you back, but all he got was a handful of your jacket. You left it behind, letting him pull it off while you ducked under the police tape, sprinting up the front yard while Spencer shouted your name from the street.

The front door was unlocked, and you swung it open before entering. You smelled the smoke emanating, and once you were in the house, you heard the wails of your daughter. Annie’s horrified cries signaled you to her location, with your weapon drawn, you walked to the back of the house. The UnSub was in the living room, the curtains set ablaze from behind her, but what you were really focused on was Annie.

Her face was bright red, likely from a combination of the heat and her endless screams. From what you could see, she looked free from any serious injuries, but you had to get her away from the fire. 

“You had the babysitter,” the UnSub said, though it wasn’t an observation—it was an accusation. She coughed through the quickly thickening smoke, “You had the babysitter.” 

You tried to wave the smoke away from your face, “Sydney was our nanny,” you told her, eyes burning. 

She shook her head, “She was the babysitter.” You nodded at her insistence, “She wouldn’t let me take him, so I did what I had to do. I had to get him to safety.”

“You’re right,” you cajoled her, though it comforted you to know that Sydney had died trying to protect your daughter. “You had to save him. Your baby’s name is Elijah, right?” Even though there was nothing more you wanted to do than get your baby back, you had to make sure you did so safely. “My daughter’s name is Annaliese,” you told her. “She’s four months old. Her dad and I call her Annie.” 

Your heart ached at the way your daughter responded to her name being called, her wails ebbing for just a moment when she finally noticed you. “He wasn’t safe with the babysitter,” Abby insisted again. 

You nodded, “I know. I know,” you coughed through the smoke, “but we aren’t safe here either, Abby. We need to get away from the fire.” 

“I should’ve been there,” she said mournfully, turning her head to look at the ever growing fire. Your chest ached as breathing became more and more of a chore. “I should’ve died with him,” she told you. 

Finally, everything made sense to you, in a way that only an UnSubs actions could make sense. She was trying to recreate the day her son died, except now she was trying to take another baby down with her. “Abby,” you said her name as gently as you could while still being audible over the wailing and alarms, “Elijah’s gone. I’m so sorry.” 

She shook her head, stepping backwards—closer to the fire—and muttering to herself, “no, no, no, no.”

“You can save her though,” you assured her, holding your hands out for Annaliese while wondering if you’d make it in time if you had to lunge for her. Her little legs kicked in protest, though you noticed she was losing steam, and you’d found yourself growing faint while the flames continued to grow. 

A pop came from the couch behind her, embers flying at her, and when she flinched from the burns, her grip slipped on Annie. You took your opportunity, crouching to grab the baby before she had the chance to hit the floor. 

For less than a split second, you watched Abby and considered helping her out, but the helpless baby on your hip had to take priority and you ran for the door. You had a much more sluggish pace when running outside than you had when you were on your way in. “Reid,” Someone shouted, and you slowed down slightly when you were almost at the edge of the property. 

You smiled despite yourself when JJ was the first to get to you, she was scolding you about running into a burning building while your head spun. 

Spencer got to you next, not far behind JJ. Together, the two of them led you to the ambulance, keeping you upright when adrenaline caused you to trip over your feet. Quietly, Spencer kept whispering the same words over and over again, “It’s okay. I’ve got you.” He repeated, kneeling in front of you once you sat down at the ambulance and the EMTs got you and Annie fitted with oxygen masks.

Frowning when Spencer tried to take the baby from you, your grip on her tightened protectively. 

“I know,” he murmured gently, knowing you’d just almost died trying to get her and didn’t want to give her up so easily. “You have a burn on your arm,” he let you know, “Let me take her for a little while so they can treat it. We’ll stay right next to you.” 

Reluctantly, your hold on Annie loosened while Spencer pulled her onto his lap, staying true to his word and taking a seat on the rig next to you. He cradled her, and you both sighed in relief when she finally stopped bawling.

Her little hands tugged at the mask on her face, but her father produced the small stuffed animal that you’d taken from the house, handing it to her to keep her tiny fingers occupied. Hearing shouting from the house, your hand that was holding your own oxygen mask to your face fell to your lap at the sight of Abby being carried out by the firefighters. Paramedics crowded her when they laid her on the grass, but by the looks of it, there was nothing to be done. 

Using his empty hand, Spencer lifted your hand back to your face, “Keep this on, honey.” His hands shook with residual fear, and you were sure yours weren’t performing better. 

You held the oxygen mask to your face, and tears fell from your smoke affected eyes while he looped the elastic bit around your head. “I thought…” your voice trailed off, garbled by the smoke inhalation and muffled by the mask. 

“I know,” Spencer responded, kissing the top of your head when you leaned onto his shoulder, looking down at Annie, who giggled at the sight of you with your oxygen mask on. 

“Here,” Spencer whispered, passing you the cup of water he’d gotten you when you arrived at the pediatric unit. The burn on your arm was freshly debrided and bandaged, and aside from a prescription you needed to pick up in the morning, you were fully treated. 

Because her lungs were considerably smaller than yours, the doctors at the hospital decided it would be best for her to stay overnight for observation. Though they were impressed with her condition, telling you that, of all things, her crying had likely protected her. The extended wails had prevented too much smoke from entering her lungs 

You sipped at the cold water gratefully, looking down at Annaliese while she slept in the hospital bassinet. You set it down next to you, glancing up at Spencer while he tapped his fingers. “What’s wrong?” 

He raised his eyebrows, stilling his fingers in acknowledgement that he had been caught. “I used to have this dream,” he murmured, keeping his voice down so he didn’t disturb your sleeping daughter. “It started around the time I had first joined the BAU,” he continued, “There was a baby girl in the middle of a fire, put there by an UnSub, and no matter what I try, I’ve never been able to get to her in time.” 

Taking a deep breath, you studied his expression carefully, “Well, you don’t believe in dream analysis…” 

“No,” he replied, “I don’t.” 

Shrugging, you rested your chin on the bassinet, “I mean. You couldn’t get to her, so I did.” He’d previously admitted to using from choice words toward Derek when he held Spencer back, but as far as you knew, all was well between the two of them. 

Spencer frowned, “By running into a burning building.” His tone was chiding, and you understood why. You wouldn’t have changed your actions, but you understood why it bothered him so much. “Without thinking first,” he added. 

You smiled shyly, “Yeah, it reminds me of this guy I knew who once ran into an anthrax lab without a mask. Although, he didn’t really run. His pace was pretty leisurely.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up in response, “Yeah. That probably wasn’t the best decision, but we got a good result.” His hand reached into the bassinet, dragging a knuckle down your daughter’s cheek while she shifted slightly on the sterile mattress. 

“Yeah,” you hummed, reaching into the bassinet and taking his hand in yours, “I think we did.”

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

TITLE: rainy day

PAIRING: michael "robby" robinavitch x female reader

RATING: explicit | WORD COUNT:

SUMMARY:

when a thunderstorm cuts your plans short, you and robby make the most of his day off together at home.

TAGS/WARNINGS:

no use of y/n, established relationship, domestic fluff

explicit sexual content (18+ - minors do not interact): oral (f receiving), fingering, hair pulling, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, multiple positions, creampie.

let me know if any are missing!

LINKS:

main blog | masterlists | AO3

The bed is empty when you wake up. It usually is, given Robby’s schedule, but you know he has the day off. You sit up, stretch your arms above your head, and leave the comfort of your mattress in search of the man.

You find him in the kitchen, standing at your stove with a spatula in his hand. He looks up when he hears you, smiling in the way that creases the corners of his eyes.

“She lives,” he jokes, sliding the spatula beneath a pancake and flipping it expertly. “I thought you’d sleep longer.”

“Probably would have if you were still in bed,” you respond pointedly. He raises an eyebrow at you and gestures to the pan.

“I made breakfast.” He points to the fridge. “Even got some of that juice you like.”

“You went to the store? How long have you been up?”

“Since five.”

“Jesus,” you laugh. “You’re insane.”

He doesn’t argue, just laughs and shakes his head.

“What did you want to do today?” He asks.

“Coffee, used bookstore, farmer’s market,” you reply. “In that order.”

“Yes m’am.” He flips the finished pancake onto a stack of similar ones. “But first, eat some of these.”

You gladly accept the plate and get the fancy maple syrup from the fridge, along with the juice he picked up for you and the last of your strawberries. You slide everything across the island towards the barstools on the other side and grab some plates and forks before taking a seat.

Robby sets the dirty dishes in the sink and joins you in the seat next to yours, using his foot to drag your stool closer and kissing your cheek when you’re within reach. A warmth settles in your belly.

Mornings like this one are rare with Robby’s schedule. He works a lot — more than he should, really, but that’s an argument for another day — so when you get the chance to see him for more than a brief kiss goodbye as he heads out the door, you both try to savor it.

Because rest looks good on him. The circles under his eyes fade, if only slightly, and the tension in his shoulders eases. He smiles at you when he catches you staring.

“See something you like?” He asks.

“Always,” you respond easily, relishing the way his cheeks grow pink and the flush spreads down his neck, disappearing beneath his t-shirt. “Thanks for breakfast.”

He hums, leaning in to kiss you. It’s slow, soft — syrupy, like your pancakes. Your fork clatters against the plate as you drop it in favor of wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close.

His big hand settles on your waist, squeezing, feeling the shape of you, before sneaking beneath the hem of your shirt in search of skin. A little moan escapes you at the warmth and he swallows it, licking into your mouth as he does.

Robby pulls away first to say, “You better go get dressed if you want to leave the house today.”

“Leaving is overrated,” you reply, stealing another kiss that’s more of a shared smile against each other’s mouths.

“I’m happy to keep you in bed all day,” he murmurs, “but I know how you get when you don’t get your fancy coffee on the weekends.”

“Fine,” you acquiesce, giving his lips one last peck. “Rain check?”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

Coffee in hand, you wander the aisles of your favorite used bookstore. You’ve already got two in the reusable bag slung over your shoulder.

When you cross paths with Robby, he pulls you in for a kiss that turns into a heated make out session against a shelf in a little corner of the shop, tucked away from other shoppers. He pulls back when he hears footsteps approaching and reaches above your head for a book, opening it and pretending to read as another customer passes by the aisle. They don’t spare you a glance, thankfully — otherwise they would see the way your lips are still spit slick and swollen, your chest heaving as you catch your breath, or the way Robby looks down at you, gaze dark and expression smug as he reaches down to adjust himself in his jeans.

The weather starts to shift while you’re at the farmer’s market. Dark clouds rolling in, wind picking up speed, the scent of the earth growing thick in the air. Vendors start packing up, finishing transactions with furtive glances at the sky.

“Let’s head back,” Robby suggests. You agree, taking his hand and following him through the crowd.

You’re nearly home when the sky opens up and the rain pours down, soaking you to the bone. Water drips from your clothes and onto the floor of the elevator, little puddles forming at your feet.

Back in your apartment, the two of you kick off your shoes by the door. Robby sets your bag in the kitchen and follows you to your bedroom, shutting the door. You turn on one of the lamps on your nightstand, bathing the room in warm, gentle light.

Outside, rain batters the windows in a tempo that matches your pulse as Robby’s hands find the bottom of your shirt, lifting the soaked fabric up over your head and dropping it to the floor. He reaches behind your back, unhooking your bra with one skilled flick of his fingers and a smug tilt to his lips.

“How about that rain check?” He asks, his voice a deep rumble like the thunder that grows louder as the storm rages on.

His hand is on your lower back, pulling you against his body. You tilt your face toward his and he takes the invitation, kissing you, hot and hungry.

He reaches for your jeans, popping the button and dragging the zipper down. The warmth of his mouth and his hands against your damp skin as he drags the denim down your thighs makes you shiver. Before standing up, he pulls your underwear off as well, adding them to the growing pile of clothing and leaving you bare.

“On the bed,” he rumbles. You follow his command, lying back against the pillows and watching him remove his clothes.

He joins you on the mattress, caging you beneath him with his broad frame, his lower body cradled between your thighs. His cock is hard and heavy against your mound, trapped between your bodies.

Robby drops his head to kiss your neck, leaving a searing trail that begins beneath your ear, moving down until he’s taking a nipple into his mouth. Your eyelids flutter at the sensation, the harsh pull of his mouth and gentle flick of his tongue over the hard bud.

“Fuck,” you breathe, arching into him. Your fingers tangle in his hair. “Feels so good, Robby.”

You can feel his smile against your skin. He releases you with a slick pop, giving the opposite breast the same attention until you’re whining beneath him. He shifts lower, peppering kisses down your stomach, stopping just shy of where you crave his mouth most.

He gets comfortable, urging your legs over his shoulders, wrapping his arms around your thighs before leaning in and dragging his tongue through your slit and circling it over your clit in slow, lazy circles. Your hips buck at the sensation but he presses a hand to your lower belly, fingers splayed against your skin and broad palm holding you down against the mattress.

Robby doesn’t care about finesse when he’s got those pretty noises you make filling his head. He’s messy with it, sloppy, spit and slick coating his chin and his nose bumping your clit when he drives his tongue inside of you, desperate for more. Your fingers are in his hair, pulling hard enough to make him moan against your pussy, the vibration only serving to send you spiraling even fast towards your release.

Two thick fingers slip inside of you with little resistance, making you gasp. He drives them into you in time with swirls of his tongue, rough in a way that has your eyes rolling and your head dropping back against the pillow.

“Robby, fuck—I—“

You come undone before you can even finish getting the words out, squeezing your thighs together against the wave of sensation that crashes over you. He eases you through it, gentle laps of his tongue instead of maddening circles, slowing the push and drag of his fingers until you’re fluttering around him.

He sits up, beard shiny and lips swollen. He lies in his spot on the bed, turned to his side to face you, reaching for you and dragging you closer, until you’re chest to chest and he can reach down to hike your leg over his hip.

You reach between your bodies and wrap your fingers around his cock. His breath stutters, a quiet fuck, yes spilling from his lips. He’s slick with pre-cum, your fist moving over him easily.

When he flexes his hips, the flushed tip of him drags against your cunt and you both gasp. You angle his cock so that the next thrust drives him into your body, one steady slide into your tight heat that has you seeing stars.

Robby’s hand is on your ass, grip tight enough to ache as he rocks your body against his. The position is intimate, all shared breath and sweaty limbs and your nails dragging across his shoulders, leaving little red lines like a brand.

But it’s not enough. He wants to be buried so deep you feel him for days, so he pulls out even though you whine about it and turns you on your stomach, dragging your hips into the air to meet his and sinking back into you with a groan.

“Fuck,” he growls through clenched teeth. He spreads your cheeks, watches his cock disappear inside of you, watches the way you clench desperately around him when he pulls out.

It drives him a little insane, the way your back arches on instinct and your ass bounces against him with each thrust. He won’t last long like this but he won’t have to, not with the way you’re moaning his name and fisting the sheets.

He brings his fingers to your clit, drawing tight circles over the sensitive bud and waits for that telltale little pulse of your cunt around his cock that means you’re close to finishing and then pinches your clit, a little rough, making you completely shatter, your moan muffled in the pillow and your body shaking with the force of it.

He follows soon after with three sloppy thrusts before burying deep, holding your hips in a tight grip as he fills you with his spend. You collapse against the mattress, exhausted and sore in the best kind of way.

Robby disappears into the bathroom and emerges with a wet washcloth that he uses to clean up between your legs while you lie there in the aftermath of your orgasm, spent and sated. When he’s done, he adds the cloth to the pile of wet clothes and crawls back into bed with you, tugging the duvet up over your naked bodies.

“I guess that’s one way to spend a rainy day,” you comment, playing with the chain around his neck.

“Day’s not over,” Robby says, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk. “Rain hasn’t let up either.”

You laugh, warm and bright, and he can feel it through his chest. Closing his eyes, he commits the sound to memory, tucking it away for when he needs a little sunshine on his rainy days.

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this fic, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment 💕

[honeyshiddendesire]

Happy Father's Day

One Piece Hotties Reacting to you saying “Happy Father's Day”

Characters: Eustass Kidd, Law, Zoro, Sanji, Shanks, Akainu, Monkey D. Garp, Whitebeard

Warnings: More Comedy with potential angst in some, suggestive in some

You smile happily and hand them a Father's Day card waiting patiently for them to open it. Hands together buzzing with excitement hoping they have the same reaction as you. But instead you get…

Eustass Kidd

“About fucking time. I've been raw dogging your pussy for weeks. It took your damn mechanics long enough.” You frown at his bland reaction reaching over to snatch the card away from him but he grabs your arm pulling you in his lap. Whispering in your ear softly, “Hope they look like you.”

Law

“R-really!? Holy shit! Bepo! Get the labs ready for an examination! Quickly let's go have an ultrasound!” Law stands so fast he knocks his desk chair back in a loud bang. His hand grabbing your wrist trying to drag you down the hall for a check up. You laugh echoing in the Polar Tang. “Law slow down~ can I at least have a hug first?” Law just huffs as he continues rushing you to the lab. “A hug? No- no time we have to check on the baby!”

Zoro

His face goes pale and you can tell by the look of him that he’s gonna faint. “A …a kid? I'm gonna be a dad…I can't be a dad! We can't be parents! We're pirates! We get attacked everyday!” He's spiraling you can tell but you just raise your hands and go next to him shushing him but he stands and starts pacing making you raise a brow.

“Zoro baby, you're the strongest swordsman I've ever seen. Our kid will be the safest baby on the planet.” Zoro stops pacing when he hears that, his shoulders visibly relaxing as he glances at you. “Yeah? Yeah. Maybe this won't be so bad.”

Sanji

Will instantly pick you up spinning you around with excitement, “Oh my love you've made me the happiest man alive. I'm so lucky you have no idea.” You laugh as he kisses you all over, his words filled with sappy praises. “Sweetheart, you have no idea how much I love you. You're gonna be an amazing mother.” You caress his cheek lovingly and with teary eyes speak softly, “And you're gonna be an awesome father.”

Shanks

“Hahaha! Darling you're kidding right? I'm too old for another one. But that's one good prank though baby. I'll tell Uta about it, she'll probably get a kick out of it.” Your smile morphs into an awkward stare and you shuffle nervously as Benn takes that as his cue to leave you two alone. Shanks eyes go wide as he opens the card to a picture of you holding a positive test. “Shit…I'm sorry darling I was just kidding this is…this is great.” You frown as you see Shanks force a smile, when he sees your face he stands quickly to pull you in his arms. “I'm sorry sweetheart, I'm just shocked. Don't worry everything will be alright.”

Akainu

“Alright. That's good news. I'll make arrangements.” He says simply, brushing you off as if you were some recruit and not his wife of 10 years. “That's it?” You say and he raises a brow. “Should I jump for joy? I'm far too old to be doing that nonsense.” He huffs and you just shake your head. “Real nice Saka, I at least wanted a hug or something.” You tell the man who finally looks at you properly. Standing with a sigh he walks towards you, towering you with ease, he pulls you into his arms and you can't help but smile at his stubbornness. “We'll celebrate tonight over dinner.” When he pulls away from the hug he slaps your ass hard with a smirk, “Now leave before you give me a headache.”

Monkey D. Garp

The man lets out a boisterous laugh at the news and you watch him intrigued. “Well wouldn't you know, I guess I'm not shooting blanks.” You can't help but join the contagious laughter, willing your eyes from years of joy. “Come here pretty girl.” You walk happily into his open wide arms, the large man pulling you in his lap, a wife from on his face. “I'll have to send Koby to Chase after the kid when they're older, I might break a hip at my age.” He jokes before kissing you on the forehead softly. “I'll have to tell Luffy later he'll get a laugh outta this…Dragon might throw up though.”

Whitebeard

To say he's shocked is an understatement but the man couldn't be happier at the news. His hand opened the card to see a picture of you holding a positive pregnancy test with a big smile. “You look beautiful darling…you're gonna look even better when that belly of yours swells up. I gotta say…making the kids was half the fun.” You gasp at his words and he just laughs. Standing tall he raises his glass and announces the news. “Well boys the day has come…My old lady is having my child!” All his sons erupt in cheers and you just laugh as Marco scoops you into a hug. “This is great ma. Can't wait to see what they look like.”

*divider*

[nanamisbbygirl]

maternal instinct

includes: dad geto x mom reader ft. little nanako and mimiko

type: drabble, domestic fluff

summary: geto loves the way you care for the girls, and he can't thank you enough. (sfw- slightly suggestive) (follows canon)

a/n: those are his babies i love this trope and dynamic (im a sucker for it) and one more thing this is so personal im crashing out rn but fuck sukuna like it's the number 1 reason i REFUSE to write for him because like how could u do that to them

p.s if anyone wants more of these drabbles i will write them all it takes is one person asking lol

"you take good care of them," geto hums, placing a kiss on your shoulder, watching how the two little girls have gently been put to sleep. you turn to look at him, a faint smile on your lips.

"they deserve to be taken care of, to have someone love them." his eyes are soft for a moment. you don't see the vicious cult leader, or the jujutsu defector you ran away with. you see a thoughtful man, with ideology and purpose. "you did the right thing, taking them from that village."

he doesn't say anything. he doesn't have to. you both know what he's thinking. he's remembering that fateful day, picturing their battered faces, horrified in the cage. it was all it took for you to realize the world wasn't what it was, the suffering inflicted by humans needed to be put to an end.

"i like seeing you like this," he whispers, "maternal, caring-- it brings out the best in you."

you laugh, "i could say the same about you. you looked so cute letting them give you a makeover the other day."

"hmm yeah," he smiles alongside you. "it's almost their birthday, we should get them a nice cake. their first birthday with us."

"yeah," your voice trails off, peeking into the room. when you pictured having a family with suguru, it didn't necessarily look like this, but you wouldn't trade it for anything.

he spins you around, looking at you face-to-face, placing his lips onto yours. it's a gentle kiss, but strong enough to make your blood rush.

"now let me take care of you," he whispers into your ear, hands finding your waist.

"oh really? what am i in for today?" you try not to laugh too loud, you just put the girls down after all.

geto gives you another kiss, "whatever you'd like, my love, i'm at your service."

he pulls you in closer, so that your head rests on his chest and you can hear his heart beat.

"well now that you mention it, a good massage is just what i need."

his eyebrows wiggle, "oh i can give you a good massage."

giggling, you nudge him away. "so perverted!" you tease him, letting him kiss you one more time.

"seriously, though," you draw back to your previous idea, "maybe a nice glass of wine? maybe a foot rub?"

"sure," he pecks your nose, but before you have the chance to split off, there's a tiny hand tugging at your pants.

little nanako and mimiko stood there, rubbing their tired eyes.

“we can’t sleep,” they tell you, causing you to kneel to their height. you softly pet their heads as they rush in for a hug.

“oh no, well we have to do something to fix that.” you muse, “how about another bedtime story?”

their faces perk up, nodding eagerly. their reactions cause you to chuckle, “okay well, go pick out a book and me and suguru will come and read to you.”

the little girls bounce back to their shared bedroom while you rose again to your full height. in doing so, you embraced geto into a half hug, where he placed his lips against the crown of your head.

“i guess it’s a rain check on the massage then, huh?” he says against your skin.

you nod, “i guess so. it’s alright though, story time is more fun.”

“i love you,” he says breathlessly.

“i know,” you hum, “and i love you.”

together, you walk into the girls room, greeting them with smiles as they present their story of choice.

a/n: i had to make a little edit because my original ending didn’t save for some reason 😿

[dreamwritesimagines]

Declassified [11] - Warning Shot

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves, you are so amazing🩷 I hope you like this chapter as well! 🥰 And please let me know what you think! 🩷

Pairing: Congressman!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary: Some dances look more than just friendly.

Warnings: Explicit language, yearning, throwing up, mentions of sexual acts.

Word Count: 5.5k

Series Masterlist

If it were any other time, this gala would be exciting.

It was the perfect opportunity to meet more politicians, get some inside information, and overall a good place to make an impression. However, your love life was a mess, you dreamt about Bucky every night while keeping your distance from him all day, so you had no idea how to even begin forming a game plan for the gala, or care about it.

Also, Bucky looked like he had one thousand questions about why you started avoiding him all of a sudden out of nowhere yet again but you had to admit, he was being very understanding and did not push you.

Then again, maybe his girlfriend played a part in it.

“Can I just skip this one?”

You and Kelsey exchanged glances and she rolled her eyes while you heaved a sigh, then checked your lipstick on the mirror.

“Caleb, get in here.”

“No seriously, DC has a bunch of charity galas I can join some other time—”

“Get in here!” You both called out at the same time and he huffed, then stepped into the living room, still fiddling with his bowtie. One simple observer would have thought he was being forced to go to war instead of a gala from the miserable look on his face, and you stifled your laugh while Kelsey walked to him to bat his hand away so that she could fix his bowtie.

“I look like a waiter.”

“You look like a handsome guy in a suit.”

“Handsome waiter in a suit.”

“Caleb,” Kelsey said patiently. “I will be Bucky’s shadow in that ballroom and running around the place on stilettos. I think you and your bowtie will be fine.”

“I can give you my shoes at the end of the night if you want,” Caleb said and Kelsey smiled at him.

“Not gonna turn down that offer, thank you.”

“Birdie?” Caleb turned to you and you winked at him.

“You look like a handsome PR manager in a suit.”

Caleb let out a breath and ran his hands through his hair.

“Anyone else feel like this is prom night?”

“I lost my virginity on prom night,” Kelsey mused, checking her phone and you raised your brows.

“Really?”

“Yeah, at the back of the limo my date rented.”

You grinned. “Classy. I’ve never had sex in a car.”

“You’re telling me Five Minutes Comma Max wasn’t adventurous?” Caleb teased you. “Shocker.”

“I should make a list or something.”

“A sex list?”

“Yeah for like places and stuff.”

“Uber is here,” Kelsey said and you grabbed your purse off the coffee table while Caleb rolled his shoulders back. “Ready?”

“Yep,” you said. “Let’s go to prom.”

                                               *

This was not prom.

This was prom West Wing edition.

There were so many important people everywhere that you didn’t even know where to start. You could see your father talking to a senator at the corner of the ballroom, and the sight was enough to make your stomach do a nervous flip, but you cracked your knuckles, searching the room for—

Oh there he was.   

It wasn’t like you expected him not to look good in a suit but this was another level. For a couple of seconds, you let yourself stare at him; your heartbeat getting faster while he gave a curt smile to something Hazel said, then made a face and shook his head, making her laugh.

Jesus, they really did make a hot couple.

Jealous burned at the pit of your stomach but you frowned to yourself, trying to focus. Kelsey made her way to him while Caleb walked to one of the journalists he knew, and you took a deep breath, then approached him.

Professional.

You were going to be just professional and get through tonight, and then go home where you could whine all you wanted.

“Good evening Mr. Barnes. Miss Brooks.” You offered a smile to her which she acknowledged with a nod, but you made sure not to look at Bucky, instead lowering your glances to your phone in your hand. “Mr. Barnes, I think it could be a good idea to talk Congressman Murray tonight about the veteran bill proposal once you get the chance. He has military background, he supports getting more financial support to veteran families especially after the Blip, and he has already contacted us for next week, so it could be the first step to breaking the ice. I sent you the main points of the latest bill he proposed a couple of months ago, so if you’d like to take a look, it could help.”

Silence.

You pulled your brows together and looked up from your phone to find him staring at you in awe, making your heart skip a beat. You could feel your cheeks burning but you shot him a quizzical look, which made him clear his throat, trying to pull himself together.

“Sorry, I zoned out,” he managed to say. “Can you repeat that?”

Oh this was not going to help this situation with Hazel.

She narrowed her eyes at him, looking between you while Kelsey bit back a smile, and you took a deep breath.

“Congressman Murray could help with the veteran bill, I sent you the details.”

“Ah,” he said. “Right, yeah. Which one is he?”

“That one.” Kelsey pointed at the man subtly and Bucky nodded like he was trying to focus.

“Okay.”

“I’d better go and see who else is here,” you said and walked away from them in a rush just so that you wouldn’t be alone with Hazel. You looked around and made your way to one of the waiters to grab a champagne flute from the tray he carried, then thanked him and took a huge sip of the champagne, closing your eyes for a moment.

Tonight was going to be a long night.

“Wow.”

You looked over your shoulder, then smiled at Lucas and turned to see him better.

“Hi.”

He let out a breath, eyeing you up and down. “You look amazing, Hurricane.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you said, your smiling growing bigger. “Hey, how come you know my nickname and I don’t know yours?”

“Because I came to the Capitol before you.”

“Oh that’s how it works?”

“Mm hm,” he said solemnly. “Not to look like I’m pulling rank but…”

“But you are pulling rank?”

“But I am pulling rank,” he repeated with a nod of his head. “Sorry about that, but technically you’re a freshman and I’m a senior.”

“You’re a sophomore at best,” you deadpanned. “And in case you forgot, this freshman is helping you with that mess you call a draft.”

He let out a laugh. “Oh that’s how we’re gonna play this?”

You shrugged your shoulders, inspecting your nails nonchalantly. “Just saying.”

“I mean I wouldn’t call it helping,” he teased you back. “More like I’m showing you the ropes.”

You let out a hum, swirling your champagne in the glass.

“I’ve seen first graders with better text cohesion.”

 “Ouch.” He grinned. “That hurt.”

“It shouldn’t,” you said calmly. “You know Lucas, there’s nothing wrong with being bad at things. We all have to start somewhere.”

“Is that right?”

“Mm hm,” you said. “For example, I was just like you when I was in college.”

“Oh, in college?”

“Lost…” You waved a hand in the air. “Clueless. Amateur. Poor in vocabulary.”

He made a face. “No you weren’t, you were the top of your class.”

You tilted your head. “And how would you know that?”

“I have my ways.” He motioned at you to keep going. “But back to dragging me.”

“Oh yeah,” you said. “And then I worked very hard and then…here we are. It might take you longer but you’ll get there.”

“We should’ve called you Viper instead of Hurricane.”

“That does sound more badass than Hurricane—” you started but Lucas’s eyes found someone over your shoulder, his smile wiping off his face immediately, and you frowned before you heard your father’s voice.

“Do you mind, Lucas?”

Lucas looked from your father to you, then shifted his weight and heaved a sigh.

“See you later, Hurricane.”

Your father gave you a small smile as Lucas walked away and you turned to glare at him.

“Dad,” you said through your teeth. “That wasn’t nice.”

“Let’s be serious here, you can do better than a glorified assistant.” He scoffed. “Would you like to dance?”

“I’m working.”

“Oh come on,” he said with a chuckle. “You used to throw fits whenever your mother and I took you to events if we didn’t have our father-daughter dance.”

“Well in my defense, I was like eight,” you replied, keeping your eyes on the people who were dancing in the ballroom. “And half of the government wasn’t in the room. And I wasn’t working.”

“And how is it going at work?” he asked. “I saw Barnes talking to Murray just now. Let me guess, they’ll work together on the veteran bill?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Yeah. And after Bucky is done talking to him, I’ll talk to Congressman Riley about our project for the education of children in low income families.”

“What’s next?” he asked. “We start handing out stacks of money on the street?”

“You have more than enough. Why not?”

“That’s not how it works.”

“At the risk of sounding like a hopeless idealist, I happen to think some of the government money should be used for people in need instead of your buddies buying yachts,” you snarked. “I know it’s a little difficult to understand it for you, the idea of helping people.”

“We do help people, you know.”

“Oh yeah, the world is a much better place with your help.” You snorted and raised your glass in a mock of toast. “They don’t thank you enough.”

“Pumpkin, you know how it goes,” he said. “Some win and some lose. Don’t blame me, I didn’t come up with the rules for this game.”

“No but you keep rigging it,” you growled through your teeth, looking him in the eye. “And for most people, dad, it’s not a game. A lot of people are in need of help. Real help.”

“And you want to be Robin Hood.”

“I want to make a difference in the world,” you insisted. “I’m going to—I’m going to help people—”

“Before or after going on a date with your boss?”

That made you shut up immediately and you pulled back a little, searching your mind for the right words.

“I already talked to mom about this,” you managed to say. “That’s just lies.”

He hummed and took a sip of his drink.

“I don’t appreciate getting my name dragged into tabloid gossip,” he said, his voice void of any emotion. “Any more than I appreciate seeing my daughter put herself in that situation.”

This—

Alright.

You could feel the familiar knots in your stomach, your throat tightening. This was exactly how it would go when you were little, your father’s voice turning into this, and the moment you opened your mouth to explain yourself, yelling would start. Panic was already giving you nausea but you managed to keep your expression flat before you downed your drink and put it on a tray a waiter was carrying just so that you could cross your arms to hide the trembling of your hands.

“I don’t control what the PR comes up with,” you pointed out. “And I didn’t put myself in any situation—”

“I’m not interested in excuses,” he cut you off, his voice low but stern. “I’m interested in solutions. Make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

With that, he walked away from you, leaving you there dumbfounded as you felt your breath hitching in your throat.

No.

This was not happening, not right now and especially not here.

You darted through the ballroom as subtly as you could without getting any attention on you, then stepped out into the hallway to rush to the bathroom. You slammed the door open, then ran to the nearest stool to throw up, pushing the button to flush it before you put the lid down, and sat on top of it.

Your hands were still shaking and you closed your eyes shut, trying to keep your breathing under control.

This was just nonsense. You weren’t a child anymore, your father couldn’t yell at you without you yelling back, and there was no way he would’ve tried to yell at you surrounded by all those people in the ballroom but—

But the fear of disappointing him was still enough to make you throw up.

It took you almost half an hour to pull yourself together. You massaged your temples, willing the headache to disappear before you stepped out of the stool, then walked to the sink to keep your hands under the cold water.

The girl next to you gave you a sympathetic smile. “I hate these things too.”

“You have no idea,” you muttered. “Any chance you have mints?”

“Oh yeah, here.” She reached into her purse to pull out a pack of mints and you took one to pop it in your mouth.

“Thanks.”

“I’m Mel,” she said. “I work for Valentina Allegra de Fontaine.”

“CIA.” You whistled. “Badass. I work for Congressman Barnes.”

Her jaw dropped. “Oh, I knew I’ve seen you somewhere, in that—”

She stopped herself mid-sentence and you heaved a sigh.

“That gossip piece, yeah.”

“I didn’t mean to be rude, sorry.”

“You weren’t rude,” you said. “No worries.”

Her phone buzzed in her hand and she checked it, then turned to you.

“Gotta go but it’s nice to meet you.”

“You too,” you said and turned to check your makeup in the mirror, then grabbed a tissue to dab at your eyes.

“Get your shit together,” you muttered to yourself and threw the tissue into the garbage can, then walked out of the bathroom. You slowly made your way toward the ballroom but when you felt your throat tightening, you huffed out and turned the nearest corner to another empty hallway, then sat on the stairs.

Fine, you apparently needed more time.

You didn’t even have the energy to check your phone that kept buzzing because that meant you needed to go into the ballroom, so you kept it in your lap while you wrung your hands, then cracked your knuckles one by one. Counting in your head, you took a deep breath, and leaned your forehead on your knees to focus before you exhaled.

“Here you are.”

It was almost funny how with just his voice he managed to pull you out of the spiral of your thoughts. You could feel your lips pulling into a small smile and you took another breath, then lifted your head to look up at him.

He was way too handsome.

“You okay?” he asked, his blue eyes searching your face and you scoffed, waving a hand in the air.

“Drinking champagne on an empty stomach isn’t the best idea.”

“You think so?”

“Oh yeah,” you said. “Just gonna take five and then go back. How about you, why are you here?”

“I don’t really like the whole…” He motioned in the direction of the ballroom and you raised your brows.

“Socializing in order to manipulate people?”

“That and just—people,” he admitted, then nodded at the stair you were sitting on. “Got room for one more person in there?”

You scooted over and he sat down next to you, making you let out a giggle.

“You do know that we’re supposed to be in there working people?”

“It’s not like they’re going anywhere.”

“Still,” you said. “I doubt many politicians or employees are hiding from the crowd sitting on a staircase.”

“Well, you’re the only person I actually want to sit with tonight,” he said with a shrug, as if that didn’t make your stomach flutter. “What’s your excuse?”

Focus.

“How did it go with Murray?”

“He wanted me to share stories.”

“From the front?”

He nodded and you scrunched up your nose. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I’m used to it.”

You fell silent for a couple of seconds, then turned sideways to see him better, resting your chin on your fist.

“I wonder about that too sometimes, you know?”

He frowned. “The front?”

You shook your head. “Who you were back then. I mean I saw the footage with the Howling Commandoes and Steve Rogers, and you were…” You paused for a second and sat up straighter, grinning at him. “Tell me who you were.”

“You know who I was,” he said as if the answer was obvious and you shook your head again.

“I’m not asking about Sergeant Barnes, or the Winter Soldier,” you told him. “I’m asking about James Bucky Barnes before the war.”

He raised his brows like he hadn’t thought about that in a long time. You had seen that look on his face before, a mixture of curiosity and longing as he fell into silence, trying to dig up a memory that wasn’t full of trauma or bloodshed, a memory that was warm and pleasant and carefree.

“Well, things were difficult even before the war,” he started. “But I think I was happy. Me and Steve, we basically grew up together. My mother would always put a plate on the table for him on Sunday breakfast.”

A soft smile warmed your face. “That’s sweet of her.”

“We would get in trouble sometimes, which she hated,” he said. “Me and Steve, we once went to Rockaway Beach, and had to come back to Brooklyn on the back of a freezer truck.”

“Wait, why?”

He let out a chuckle. “Well, Steve spent our money on hot dogs, and I was trying to impress this girl, Dot.”

Your grin widened. “Ah?”

“So I spent 3 dollars trying to win a stuffed bear for her, which meant we had no money to go back, so we hitchhiked.”

You pulled out your phone.

“I need to check something, give me a second,” you said and quickly typed it into google, then gasped.

“3 dollars back then is— Bucky, you spent 70 dollars on a stuffed bear to impress a girl?” you exclaimed. “During Great Depression?”

“Mm hm.”

“Please tell me you did win the goddamn stuffed bear.”

“I did actually,” he said with a smirk. “And she was impressed, so money well spent.”

“So in your order of priorities,” you said, motioning with your hands, “impressing the girl was higher than going back to Brooklyn safe and sound? And comfortable?”

“Yeah, she was pretty.”

“And that’s enough reason?” You gawked at him. “She was pretty?”

He nodded his head. “Yeah. And she wanted the stuffed bear.”

You bit your lip to contain your smile and heaved a sigh, then leaned back to narrow your eyes at him playfully.

“I knew it.”

“Knew what?”

“That it wasn’t just a rumor. You really were a charming ladies’ man back then.”

He let out a noise of disagreement. “That’s not exactly…”

“Bucky, you looked like this.” You gestured at his face. “And I saw you in that footage, with Steve Rogers and The Howling Commandos. Come on, you were popular with women, it’s very obvious.”

That boyish smile pulled at his lips again. “Someone had to make sure Steve got a date, and double dates were all the rage back then.”

“Oh I’m sure you did all that for him.” You played along with a pout. “Of course. Did you use to dance as well?”

“I did, actually. Steve hated it, I didn’t mind.”

You hummed, fixing the silky skirts of your dress as you crossed your legs and he eyed you up and down, then leaned in so that you could hear his teasing tone.

“Do you wanna dance?”

That made your head whip around and you gawked at him before you snorted a laugh.

“Yeah, let’s go dance in the ballroom full of people we work with, and the media,” you said. “After that PR disaster? Terrible idea.”

“I didn’t say it had to be in the ballroom,” he said and stood up to offer you his hand, awakening butterflies in your stomach.

“Bucky…”

“It’s a waste of music if a pretty dame like you isn’t dancing to it darlin’,” he said with that old Brooklyn accent, a laugh spilling from your mouth before you scrunched up your face in embarrassment, then took his hand, a fire spreading from your fingers to your whole body.

“God, no wonder why Dot was impressed,” you said as he pulled you closer and wrapped his vibranium arm around your waist, smiling down at you.

“Is that right?”

It felt like your heart was trying to climb out of your chest and a giggle bloomed in your throat as he twirled you, then pulled you closer again.

“So this is James Bucky Barnes,” you mused. “I like him. I’d probably work for him back in the 1940s if he decided to get in politics.”

“He didn’t have any plans for politics, trust me.”

“Yeah well, it wouldn’t stop me. I’d talk him into it.”

That managed to coax a laugh out of him, the rare sound making you smile wide.

“I’d make him hire me,” you said. “Through Dot, by the way. Convince the wife and get the husband situation.”

He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Yeah I don’t think he would up with Dot.”

“Because he’s a ladies’ man?”

“Because he is an idiot,” he said softly as you both swayed with music. “He messed things up with her.”

Your eyes snapped up to his and you gulped.

“Beyond saving?”

“Feels that way.”

You scrunched up your nose. “That doesn’t sound right.”

“Well, he backed himself into a corner,” he said, sadness etched on his handsome face. “Right person, wrong time.”

You could hardly hear him from the rush of blood in your ears, but you managed to shrug your shoulders, taking a deep breath.

“Maybe,” you said. “Or maybe it’s just another excuse for him to torture himself. I mean, time has to give him a break at some point, so they just need to find the corner their lines cross.”

A slow smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, but before he could say anything, you both heard the sound of heels on the marble floor and you pulled your hand from his, stepping out of his embrace even if your body urged you not to. You fixed your hair just so that you could keep your hands busy and Kelsey appeared at the corner, then pulled her brows together.

“Hi,” she said after a beat. “Bucky, Caleb was looking for you.”

Bucky nodded and turned to look at you. “Are you…?”

“I actually need to borrow her for a moment,” Kelsey said and you motioned at the ballroom.

“You go, I’ll be right there.”

Bucky walked past Kelsey to make his way into the ballroom and Kelsey approached you.

“Anything you’d like to tell me?”

“Long story,” you said. “I’ll tell you when we get home. Is everything okay in there?”

“I just saw Hazel leave,” she said. “Caleb thinks it’s an urgent business thing, she’s been here all week.”

“Does Bucky know?”

“That’s what Caleb wanted to ask him I think,” she said, linking her arm with yours. “Now come on. You can’t leave me alone with those assholes, and I think I’ve been flirting with a journalist so you need to tell me whether he’s hot or just tall.”

                                               *

Apparently, Hazel had left without letting Bucky know, so he had left as well to make sure she was alright, which meant you and Kelsey and Caleb could go home.

“We should’ve stolen a champagne bottle or something,” Caleb said while he laid on the floor on his back and you played with the corner of the pillow you were sitting on.

“I’ll keep that in mind the next time we go to a gala. So the journalist, Kels?”

“He is kinda cute,” Kelsey said. “Like a puppy.”

“But he’s a journalist,” Caleb said. “I mean, can he be trusted?”

“Caleb, this is yet another instance we have to remind you that we work in politics,” you said, motioning between you. “Journalists think the same about us.”

“You work in politics, I work in communications.”

“Communications in politics.”

“That’s a detail though—” he started but was cut off when his phone started buzzing.

“At this hour?” Kelsey asked as Caleb sat up and answered the phone while you leaned in to hear what it was about.

“Hello? Yes, this is he.” Caleb said and listened to the other line, his eyes widening.

“What?” you whispered and he motioned at you to be silent, standing up to pace in the room. He ran his hand through his hair, letting out a breath.

“Uh, Mr. Barnes didn’t bring me up to speed I’m afraid,” he said, his gaze snapping to you before he mouthed ‘What the fuck’ and nodded as if the other person could see him. “Yeah that sounds like a great idea. Do you have my email address? Okay, great, I’ll check it out right now and get back to you, and we can put it out. Thank you, have a nice evening.”

He hung up and whirled on his heels to look at you and Kelsey.

“What the fuck?”

“What’s going on?”

“That was Hazel’s PR team.” He held up his phone. “They want to check in with me to see if their statement is in line with ours.”

“What statement?”

“Their break up statement.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you gawked at him, disbelief crashing down on you while you reached to hold Kelsey’s arm.

“What?”

“I—what happened while you two were in that hallway?” Caleb asked you and you shook your head.

“We just danced,” you insisted while his eyes darted on the lines on his screen. “I swear. We were dancing and joking about his past—”

“Right before Kelsey found you?”

“Yeah!”

Caleb gritted his teeth and turned to Kelsey.

“And you found them right after Hazel left?”

A look of realization dawned on Kelsey’s face. “…Yeah.”

“No that’s not related,” you insisted, jumping on your feet. “I would’ve noticed if she saw us, or Bucky would—”

“A bunch of people were coming and going to the hallway next to it, he easily could’ve chalked it up to anyone else passing there.”

Your heart was pounding in your head as you covered your mouth.

“Good news is, there’s literally nothing about you on this statement,” Caleb murmured, his attention on his phone. “And her team said nothing about it either—shit, did we have her sign an NDA?”

“Knowing Bucky? I doubt it,” Kelsey said while Caleb touched his screen, then put the phone to his ear.

“Bucky,” he said, making your head whip up. “Hey. Yeah she’s fine. Yeah, I’m fine too. Uh…so friendly reminder, you’re supposed to tell me if you broke up with your girlfriend so that I can put out a statement before her team calls me. Because—” Caleb threw his hand in the air in exasperation. “Because that’s how it works. No, forget what I said about the Bachelor. Did you have her sign anything?” Caleb pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course you didn’t. Okay, I need you to tell me what happened in detail.”

You rushed to your room to change into a t-shirt and jeans as fast as you could, then stepped into the living room again.

“Are you going to Bucky’s place?” Kelsey whispered while Caleb kept pacing in the room, trying to convince Bucky that privacy didn’t exist in a situation like this, and you shook your head, making her frown.

“Then what—Birdie, no.” Her voice was stern as she realized what you were about to do. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“What hotel is she staying at, Kels?”

“You’re the last person she wants to see, you do realize that?”

“And I owe her an explanation, you know that,” you said. “There’s no way she is at Bucky’s place, so what hotel?”

Kelsey pulled out her phone with a sigh, then touched the screen for a minute before your phone vibrated.

“There, the location, and the room number,” she said. “Bucky went there the other day.”

“Thank you,” you said, grabbing your coat on your way to the door. “I’ll text you.”

With that, you slammed the door behind you and rushed outside, raising your hand for a taxi.

                                        *

You knew Hazel didn’t want to see you.

You couldn’t even blame her. You had a pretty clear idea how that dance would look to an outsider, much less to her.

But you knew you had to explain yourself, and apologize.

You cracked your knuckles nervously as the elevator door opened, the door at the end of the hallway greeting you. Letting out a breath, you rolled your shoulders back and forced yourself to approach the door, then raised your fist to knock on it and stepped back, clasping your hands to stop the shaking.

Hazel scoffed a laugh when she opened the door.

“Oh this is gonna be fun,” she said, her voice calm despite her red-rimmed eyes. “Finished your dance?”

You closed your eyes for a second before you opened them.

“Miss Brooks, I’m really sorry,” you started, making her raise her brows as if she was amused. “I know how it looks like, but I swear to you nothing happened. I was feeling bad, that’s why I left the ballroom, but there’s nothing going on between us.”

“Yes there is.”

“No, I assure you—”

“Oh, you guys aren’t sleeping together.” Hazel waved a hand in the air. “But there is something between you. You know it, I know it, and Bucky also knows it even if he likes to pretend otherwise. He knew it throughout the time he was trying to make himself fall in love with me.”

You pulled back slightly, straining your mind to find the right thing to say.

“Miss Brooks—”

“I’m not going to say anything to the press,” she said. “So if that’s why you’re here, you can go away.”

You shook your head. “That’s not why I’m here.”

“Then why are you here?”

“To apologize.”

Hazel held your gaze in hers as if she was trying to find any sign of dishonesty, then let out a breath.

“Listen, I’m going to show you this courtesy only because I’m not proud of how I treated you back in that bathroom,” she said. “I was still pretty angry, but blaming you makes no sense. That’s not the type of person I am, or the type of person I want to be.”

You wrung your hands, staring at her.

“I mean I asked him to fire you,” she said after a beat. “Not my proudest moment.”

“I get it,” you rasped out and she took a deep breath.

“And I hope you understand what I’m about to say doesn’t come from a place of hostility,” she said. “But from woman to woman? Don’t do it.”

Your eyes snapped up to hers, your throat tightening.

“You know how it goes,” she said, her voice almost sad. “You’ve seen how quick the public was to forgive him for everything. His PR was good but no PR is that good, they want to love him. The guy is a superhero, he could walk away from politics today and it wouldn’t make any difference. They will still love him.”

You sniffled and wiped your nose, nodding your head.

“So you know what will happen,” she said. “This is one of the rare things that hasn’t changed since the 40s, no matter what anyone says. He will be their hero, and you will be the whore.”

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, tears blurring your vision.

“I need you to understand that,” she told you. “Doesn’t matter if I like you or not, I wouldn’t wish it upon any woman. They will fucking tear you apart, and trust me, not even the big bad Winter Soldier can protect you from that.”  

Don’t cry.

Do not cry.

“And he doesn’t even see it.” She scoffed a laugh. “But you do. You’re smart, something inside you has to be warning you against this. You know the moment he steps out with you, he will be throwing you to the wolves.”

Your hand shot up to wipe at your eyes and you nodded again, heaving a shaky sigh while she gave you an apologetic smile.

“Good luck,” she said. “You’re going to need it.”

She closed the door and you balled your hands into fists, digging your fingernails into your palms to focus on anything other than the tears falling from your eyes. You slowly made your way to the elevator to step in, watching the doors close.

And then you started sobbing.

[eclipsedechoesofmywords]

"Should've Been Perfect"

[Bucky Barnes x fem!reader]

Rewrite of Do You Want to Dance Too?

Masterlist

Summary: A ruined date turns unexpectedly sweet when you and Bucky get caught in a summer storm.

Warnings: none. just fluff

Word Count: 924 words

A/N: rewriting simply to see how far I've gotten since my first fic, and I guess this counts as me officially being back.

Bucky's cursing was nearly drowned out by the first raindrops hitting the pavement as you both ran into the café's doorway.

"We should've checked the forecast," Bucky grumbled, shaking water from his hair like a disgruntled Labrador.

You shrugged, pretending not to notice the way his damp shirt clung to his shoulders. "It isn't that bad."

"It's going to be." He nodded toward the windows.

You couldn't help but giggle at his sulking. The Winter Soldier, brought low by some rain. Bucky narrowed his eyes at you, but the effect was ruined when a droplet slid from his hair down the bridge of his nose.

Ella appeared from the back, wiping her hands on her apron. "Well, if it isn't my favorite disaster couple," she drawled. "Let me guess—hot chocolates?"

"You know us too well," you said, sliding into the corner booth that had somehow become yours over time.

Bucky sat beside you, still glaring out of the window. Mother Nature didn't seem to like that; the rain intensified its assault against the glass, as if in direct response to his scowl.

You took his hand in your own. "Today was great, Jamie," you assured softly.

He shook his head. "That's not enough. It should've been perfect."

Ella set two steaming mugs before you with a smile, wisely retreating to give you privacy.

Bucky's throat worked as he swallowed. His gaze dropped to where your thumb brushed his vibranium wrist - a gesture that would have made him flinch years ago. Now he turned his palm up to catch your fingers.

"Perfect is boring, Buck, you know that," You murmured, "We had a good time, and that's enough for me."

Bucky's eyes softened, the tension in his jaw finally easing. His thumb brushed your cheek, catching a raindrop you'd missed.

"What would I do without you?" he wondered out loud.

You grinned, leaning in until your nose brushed his. "It's too awful to think about."

He laughed against your lips just before he kissed you, slow, sweet, and lingering.

When he pulled away, he murmured, "We should probably finish this hot chocolate."

You frowned. "Is hot cocoa really more important than kissing your girlfriend?"

He chuckled. "It is really good."

You couldn't deny that argument.

As he sipped the drink, it was your turn to look out of the window. You watched the raindrops hammer against the window, each one exploding like tiny water balloons. Storms always brought back memories you'd rather forget—cold nights, empty promises, the kind of loneliness that soaked into your bones. But Bucky was here, and he had an unintentional habit of replacing bad memories with good ones.

That gave you an idea.

"Wanna make a run for it now?" you asked suddenly, nodding toward the downpour outside.

Bucky paused mid-sip and gave you that look—the one that says you're insane, but he loves you anyway. "It's pouring."

"Yeah, but it's not going to get any better."

He scoffed. "You want to dance too?"

The question made your eyes light up. "Can we?"

James' eyes widened, regretting his words immediately. "I was kidding."

"Why not? It's as cliche as dancing in the apartment," you pointed out, "Besides, it'll be fun."

"We are not dancing in the rain," he said firmly.

"But—"

"It's way too cold, and the last time you got a fever, you couldn't get out of bed for a week."

You hid your wince with a pout. "Fine. But we should go for it anyway."

Bucky drained the last of his hot chocolate with a resigned sigh, then stood and shrugged out of his leather jacket. "Here," he said, putting it over your head like an umbrella. "At least this'll keep you somewhat dry."

You grinned up at him. "My knight in shining armor."

"Shut up," he muttered, but the corners of his mouth twitched as he wrapped his free arm around your shoulders. "On three. One—"

You bolted before he reached two, dragging him out into the downpour with a shriek of laughter. The cold rain hit you like a thousand tiny needles, soaking through your clothes in seconds.

"Hey!" Bucky shouted over the storm, but he was laughing too as he caught up effortlessly, his jacket now doing little good for either of you.

Lightning flashed overhead, illuminating the empty street ahead. Somewhere between gasping breaths and puddles, you stumbled. Bucky's hand quickly found your waist, his grip steadying you.

"You're insane," he panted.

"You love it."

Bucky huffed as you turned to him. His shirt was practically transparent now, clinging to every ridge of muscle. You might have stared a little too long.

"See something you like?" he teased, stepping closer.

You didn’t answer, just wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a slow sway right there on the sidewalk, the rain still pouring around you.

Bucky didn’t resist, his hands settling at your waist as you moved together, your soaked clothes clinging.

"You’re going to get sick," he murmured, but his grip tightened, pulling you closer.

You grinned up at him, rainwater dripping from your lashes. "I'll live," you said quickly, standing on your tip toes and chasing his lips.

Bucky exhaled sharply through his nose—half exasperation, half surrender—before sealing his mouth over yours in a kiss.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you registered that you'd absolutely pay for this in a week, with sneezes and sniffles and Bucky's overbearing mother-henning. But as his teeth grazed your bottom lip, his groan vibrating against your mouth, you decided—

Yeah.

Worth it.

[vicolette]

Sᴡᴇᴇᴛ Tɪᴍᴇ !!

Warnings: English isn’t my first language, uses of y/n, not proofread.

"You eat like a starved man, bro."

Hector stopped eating for a split second as his eyes darted to meet the ones of Lamine, who had just made that remark with a wide grin on his face and his eyes shining in mischief. They both were out with a few friends, having thought that it would be a great idea.

Well, if he could ignore the fact that you were right beside him of all people, then it might have been as casual as a normal Saturday afternoon hang out for lunch could possibly be – Pau chatting his sister in an attempt to get her to pick him up, Alejandro making the most ridiculous jokes of all time, and last but not least, Lamine glancing at him in pure excitement.

Because only this idiot knew about Hector's crush on you. How he had found it out? He didn’t know, but he hoped that it wasn’t obvious to you at the very least.

Well, it seemed like you were peacefully enjoying your food while some mutual friends were blabbering nonsense about anything and everything. Your thigh was just slightly brushing against his, and he swore that he felt like death itself could get him and he wouldn’t regret a thing.

Until he finished his food. The expression of surprise on your face wasn’t easy to miss, much less for a guy like Hector, who paid attention to your every move. You took a look at it, and then furrowed your eyebrows.

After that, Alejandro suddenly got his attention and showed something so unfunny on his phone, that it somehow made it funny, making Hector shake his head while he let out a small chuckle.

The following next minutes were spent with Hector picking at the little leftovers from his lunch, mindlessly scrolling through his TikTok feed while his ears were actually halfway listening to Pau rant about how cute this animal was that he had seen. Then, Lamine suggested the game truth or dare, with his first victim being Hector.

Great.

"So! Truth…" As he interlocked his fingers and made a dramatic pause, Hector could only hope that he wasn’t about to make him confess his love for you out loud. "… or dare?"

"Dare." A whistle was heard as he gave one of your friends a mere glance, wondering just why some random guy had to tag along with you.

"Collect the trash." They didn’t even know each other, and this stranger was daring to tell him what he should do? He was about to say something insulting in response, when you abruptly interrupted him by accident.

"Hey, don’t say that!" As you quietly scolded him for randomly saying that, instead of letting Lamine give him a dare, Hector stood up and took everyone’s finished meals. Alejandro quickly wiped his mouth with a tissue before tossing it on his plate, Pau thanking him, and Lamine giving him the 'I know why you did that' stare.

As he took the rubbish of that weirdo, Hector gave him a glare before turning to your direction, a sheepish smile on his face as he shrugged it off, when he suddenly saw your plate.

You still had some food left to eat, so Hector didn’t say anything except for you to enjoy it and walking over to bring it away. In the way there, he checked the time to see that it was slowly getting late and that they still had some plans to do before parting ways, so he wondered how long it would take you to finish it.

Just as he had returned, his attention shifted from you to that guy again, seeing how he was ready to leave already and was on his way to the exit. Meanwhile, your mutual friends just stayed and tried to persuade him to come back, since you hadn’t finished yet.

As Hector sat back down on his seat and stared down at your plate, seeing how you couldn’t eat that fast enough to please him, he shrugged his shoulders and looked at Lamine, who was still stressing over that random.

It seemed like no one really liked him. At least not much, since you somewhat had the audacity to bring him with you.

"You can go." All of a sudden, Hector snapped as he stared daggers at him, his eyes narrowed while Pau quite literally tensed up at his tone of voice. It so clearly meant that he wasn’t going to deal with people like him – impatient, bossy, irritating ones.

Meanwhile, you were trying to get everything inside your stomach without eating too fast, wanting to enjoy your food without being pressured to eat too much all at once. With an assuring hand on your shoulder, Hector leaned in and whispered into your ear. "Forget about that rat, eat slowly."

Before you could even say anything, he sat normally with a straight back and raised an eyebrow that the stranger, seeing how he finally left after a short while of complicating whether or not he should stay. Lamine pumped his fist into the air, with Alejandro beside him snickering at his actions before turning to you. "Why did you even bring him with you?"

You could finally calm down and nervously play around with your food, thinking for a while about what to say. "He didn’t want to be alone, so he just came with me."

"No asking or anything?" Alejandro questioned with a loud gasp. Seeing how you shook your head only made him raise an eyebrow and look at you up and down, while Lamine stared at Hector for a while before glancing at your direction, wiggling his eyebrows with joy.

If he could, Hector would have punched him in the face.

Instead, he didn’t bother to listen to Pau talk about how the music taste could genuinely affect a couple’s relationships, and watched as you silently continued to eat in a rush, nudging your elbow.

He hated himself a little for acting so rude, cursing under your breath before he saw how you looked at him, offering some food in thanks for standing up for him. Hector could only shake his head, leaning in once again as his words sent shivers down your spine.

"Take your sweet time."

– A/N : do we fw the new theme or nah

[tintitw]

How 141 guys would take care of you during your period

Tw: slight mention of cunnilingus and unprotected sex

Gaz would turn into a literal lapdog for you because you're so precious to him and he can't take his little treasure suffering from some stupid monthly pussy bleeding. As long as he sees you moaning and curled up in your shared bed, he knows that the time has come: he goes to the mall and brings you your favourite sweets and painkillers, makes you a warm compress and gives you the best cure in the world - cuddles!! Man is always on alert during your period, waiting for your next command! What a good boy!

Price takes your period even more seriously than he should. Every time your period starts old man is starting ordering you around - no chores, go to bed, rest all day, exploit him as you want. Exploit. Yes, you hears that just right. He gives you everything you ask him for. Even if it's something that not all people do during their period.

"John!" You call him from your bedroom.

"Yes, luv, what's wrong?" he flew into the room.

"Can you.. I just wanted to ask if you could do this thing with your mouth..now" you mumbled, visibly blushing.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Oh, you want me to make you feel good darling?" he smirked, coming closer to the bed and gently spreading your legs.

"Let's see what I can do 'bout it."

Soap would be a literal cheer up during the painful, bloody week you have to endure. First of all, when he notices the red stain on the sheets, he looks visibly disappointed.

"Awh, bonnie, haven't I bred 'ya just enough to get you pregnant this time?"

You reply only with an uttered groan. Takes care of you the whole fucking week and almost checking your pads to make sure that blood is gone and you finally feel better. The type of man to give your belly a massage that turns into something.. interesting. He rubs your tummy very gently, only applying a slight pressure on it to ease the pain, drawing circles on it with his fingers. Continues doing it until he catches you staring right at him.

"What'cha looking at baby? What do you want me to do, huh?" he smirks at you, shifting his gaze from you to your aching pussy.

Ghost knows in advance when your period starts. Yes, you two live together for a not really long time but he made a calendar and every time you start whining about your cramps he's absolutely not surprised. He expected that. So he has everything you need nice and stocked: pads (every possible size and absorbency), sweets and snacks, warm compress, and of corse, the huge desire to fuck you right there and then. That was the main problem of your period. He wanted you the most exactly at that time:( When you are lying on the bed all domestic and cute, all his, so helpless and aching for him.

"A real knight is not afraid to stain his sword with blood.." he murmurs into your ear speeding up his thrusts.

[ashlinxsloves]

A/N: Okay, I decided to write this on a whim, but Vergil going to the oculist with you because you need to get your eyes checked/get your glasses fixed due to the lens cracking. This is for my girlies who wear glasses/contact lenses! Also self-indulgent so bear with me lol 🤭

Warnings: none, just fluff!!

"You need to get new glasses," Vergil states, seeing the cracked lens and crooked frame of your glasses. You've been wearing contacts for the past few weeks, due to your glasses getting broken during one of your missions.

"I know, I know.. I'll get to that soon," you murmured, too busy filing the paperwork to get to deal with repairing your glasses. Rubbing your eyes gently, you sighed, feeling how dry they were getting from excessively using contact lenses.

Vergil took your hands from your eyes, he called your name softly before making you look at him, "We should go get your glasses fixed.. you're struggling to see, aren't you?"

Finally listening to Vergil's advice, you went to the optician with him to get your glasses fixed after a few days. You also decided to get a quick eye test to see if your eyesight had gotten worse and it thankfully didn't change much from your last checkup.

"You should get a new frame, Miss. The one you have right now is pretty crooked and we advise that you get a new one to make it easier for our optician to place the lens without it falling off the frame."

The sales lady recommended while you contemplated the expenses, checking your balance before Vergil placed his hand on your shoulder, catching your attention.

"I'll pay for it, don't worry," he murmured, his gaze softening a bit before going back to his usual stoic frown. "Just pick something out."

You smiled sweetly at him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek which caught him slightly off guard, his head ducking down a bit as he tried to hide the smile that was trying to escape.

While you picked out a new frame, Vergil was just looking around at the male glasses frames, letting out a low hum when you tugged his coat sleeve.

"How do these look?" you asked, Vergil tilting your head up so he could get a better look at your face.

"Mmm.. they look nice," he murmured, nodding gently as you smiled. "You should get them."

Paying for your expenses, Vergil then took you out on a walk, the glasses were planned to be finished and ready to be picked up in a few days.

"You didn't have to pay for them, you know? I had some funds in my account left from the last mission I got paid for," you spoke up whilst kicking a loose pebble on the sidewalk, a small smile on your lips.

Vergil just grunted in response, his eyes trained on you as you walked towards an ice cream stand not too far away. "Do you want ice cream?"

You asked your boyfriend, seeing him tilt his head to the side at your antics. His stoic expression didn't change but his eyes did soften a bit as he gave you a small nod. You got your ice cream flavours, handing him his cone before paying for the dessert this time.

Vergil gave you a sidelong glance, shaking his head but not daring to argue with you as the two of you found a bench to sit on.

"You picked out dark forest berries for me," he pointed out, looking at the purple-white treat in front of him before taking a bite out of it. He blinked before taking another bite, causing you to giggle. Vergil liked the flavour even if he didn't admit it out loud.

After the ice cream, the two of you decided to go on a short walk around a park not too far from the shop's neighbourhood. Vergil was holding the Yamato in one hand while holding yours in his other.

"You know," you started, a small grin forming on your lips, "you wouldn't look so bad in glasses too."

"I have perfectly good vision, my love," he countered, shaking his head gently at your suggestion. But now that you pointed it out... maybe he did need some. For reading, anyway.

Vergil just put the thought away for later, instead focusing on the sweet moment he was having with you and your insistent rambling about the things you had planned for the day.

If you enjoyed this, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated!!˙⋆✮

[edwardhartenjoyer]

I Should Have Been There

You were out on a mission when you got attacked. You didn't see the anomaly coming and got pretty badly hurt. You get rushed back to Darkwick where rumors quickly spread about your injury, leading to your boyfriend soon finding out. He hurries to be by your side, so sorry he wasn't there to protect you.

Featuring: Sho | Edward | Yuri | Taiga | Zenji

Shohei Haizono - The moment Sho heard that you were rushed to Darkwick General after your latest mission had gone bad he threw the keys to his food truck at Subaru, asking him to shut everything down for him, before he rushed off to go see you.

When he got to your room and saw you unconscious and wrapped up in bandages all over, he felt so angry at the ghouls of the house you'd been with. How could they fail to protect you! Before he could go lay one into them, he needed to know you were okay, he needed to hear your voice again.

He sat down into the chair next to your bed and gently took your hand in his. "Hey senpai, I'm here for you. Just make sure you wake up for me, okay?"

When you finally do wake up it's the next day. You feel sore all over, and it takes a moment for you to notice that Sho is still there, holding your hand while he sleeps in the chair next to your bed.

"S-Sho.." you croaked out, voice barely coming out, but that's all it takes to snap him awake.

"MC, senpai, you're awake!" He sighed in relief before removing his hand from yours, only to hand you a glass of water. You take it eagerly, downing the entire thing. "How you feeling?" He asked when you were done, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

"Like I got hit by a truck." You replied honestly. He chuckled softly, though you could tell it was forced.

"I'm glad you're okay."

When you get released to go back to the cathedral, Sho helps you get home. He stays with you for the next few days, so expect lots of home cooking.

And, when you're finally able to go on missions again, you find that you keep getting assigned to Vagastrom, not that you mind.

Yuir Isami - The second Yuri heard you were injured on the mission, he demanded you be placed into his care, not sent to Darkwick General.

He gets his wish and is the one who cares for all your wounds. If they're especially bad and his hands are shaking too much from worry and fear, then Jiro takes over with Yuri closely supervising.

Yuri sat with you as often as possible while waiting for you to wake up, and if he had other matters to attend to, then Jiro was watching over you, waiting to tell Yuri if you woke up.

When you finally did wake up, Yuri was there at your side, reading over something.

"Yuri.." You gasped, and his attention immediately snapped to you. He handed you a glass of water with a "drink!" Barked at you before he started to check you over. Once he was done checking you over and you'd finished off your glass, he started to talk.

"You idiot! I thought you were smarter than this! How could you let yourself get hurt?! This is why you shouldn't trust those Frostheim idiots! They can't be trusted to keep you safe! They -" Yuri paused as he realised tears were starting to fall down his face. "They nearly made me lose you." He finished slumping back into his spot next to you.

You reached out your hand and wiped some of the tears off his face. "But you didn't lose me because I'm here, because you, my amazing doctor, healed me."

He sniffled and tried to look smug, "Well, of course, the great Dr. Yuri Isami doesn't let his patients die on him. Apparently, it's up to me to keep you alive now, too."

Yuri keeps you in Mortkraken for as long as possible, letting you stay in his room and having either himself or Jiro bring you anything you need. When you do start going on missions again, Jiro accompanies you on them, especially if you end up sent to Frostheim again, if Yuri barely trusted them before, he does so even less now and won't risk you getting hurt again.

Taiga Hoshibami- Taiga's reaction is a mixed bag. When he first heard you got injured, he struggled with remdmbering why he should care that you got hurt. When he does finally piece it together, all hell breaks loose.

You woke up and groaned at the pounding pain in your head and the aches you felt all over. You slowly opened your eyes and blinked in surprise at what you saw.

"Romeo..why are you here?" You croaked out, the Sinostra Vice captain looking starkly out of place sitting next to your hospital bed. He looked up from his phone when he heard you speak

"Tch, about time you woke up BB. That BTH has been FOTR ever since he found out you were here."

"FOTR..?" You asked slowly, too sore to try and piece together whatever the hell Romeo was going on about.

"Ugh, Flying Off The Rails BB!" Romeo snapped, "We had to lock him up in his room so he wouldn't go on a spree. Be more careful next time!!"

When you get released from Darkwick General, you get taken straight to Sinostra and Taiga's room where Ritsu and a bunch of nervous looking lackeys guard the door. Romeo lead you past all of them and into the room beyond.

The room was a mess, furniture thrown about, bullet holes in things, and Taiga, laying in the middle of all the mess. He looked up when you came in and suddenly he's clinging to you.

"KITTY CAT!! There you are!" He grinned at you."Lulu told me he'd be bringing you. You're staying here from now on, fucking idiots trying to hurt my Kitty Cat." He grumbles, mumbling that last part, though you still hear him. You bite back a comment about him trying to hurt you multiple times, too, and instead follow him to where he leads you.

You live here now. Taiga's not letting you go back to be anywhere without him. He gets your things brought to his room. You never really find out what his 'flying off the rails' was, but Ritsu tells you later that even he would have had a hard time defending Taiga in court if he'd done half the things he'd been threatening to do when he'd been locked in.

You're best just to do missions for Sinostra from now on or to just stay where Taiga can keep an eye on you.

Zenji Kotodama - When Zenji heard from Haku that you had been taken to Mortkraken for serious injuries, he was overcome with worry for you, though he also knew you were in good hands with his baby brother in charge of your care.

He came over as soon as he could, hovering by your side and telling you poems and epics until you woke up.

When you finally woke up, you saw the worried form of Zenji next to your side. You would have talked to him right then, but Jiro came in to start checking up on you.

"Oh my doll, I'm so glad you're okay. I knew my sweet baby brother would keep you safe, but I still needed to be here for you. I knew you'd feel better waking up if you heard my voice so I told you my latest creations, which not to worry, I'll happily repeat for you now that you're awake."

You smiled softly as you listened to Zenji. Once Jiro left, giving you the all clear to go home, you were able to speak freely with him.

"Thank you for coming Zenji, I feel better just from knowing you were here."

"I'm only sorry I wasn't there to protect you my Doll." He fretted. "Please, let me make it up to you. You should come stay in Hotarubi while you recover, this way you'll be well taken care of."

You agree and follow him back to Hotarubi, where over your recovery, you spend your days listening to Zenji's masterpieces while Haku and Subaru help check up on your health.

Once you start going on missions again, Zenji and his brother doll accompany you around on all of them. He's not taking the risk of letting you get hurt again without him being there to protect you.

Edward Hart - Edward heard of your injury from Rui, the blonde letting him know the moment he heard. Despite all his grumblings about never wanting to leave Obscuary and moving around hurting him, when night falls he appeared at your bedside to wait for you to wake up.

When you do wake up in the dead of night, you feel a comforting weight on the bed next to you. You turned your head and saw Edward there, napping as he laid over the covers on the bed next to you. You smiled and rested your head on him as you fell back asleep.

When you got released from the hospital, Edward brought you back to Obscuary to stay in his room with you so he could keep an eye on your health.

If you need anything, then Rui is the one to get it for you. Edward does spend the entire time clinging to you, though. It's clear to you that your near death experience rattled him. He's used to the fragility of human lives, often commenting about how short they seem to him, but this seemed to serve as a stark reminder to him that he could lose you at any moment.

When you go back to doing missions, you usually end up coming home to find Edward hanging out in the cathedral waiting for you. He also might ask more often if you'll let him turn you now, he just doesn't want to risk losing you.

[anonymous-dentist]

The cure, of course, doesn’t take too long to administer. Newt just sort of sees Lukey enter the secret lab and throws the bottle at him with zero hesitation

Much to Pangi’s horror, Lukey immediately crumples to the floor, seemingly unconscious

He pearls out of the secret passageway and lands expertly by Lukey’s side

“Lukey!” he shouts, rolling him onto his back and checking for a pulse

Newt, a piece of shit evil terrible rude bastard, just stands there

Hum, he always has hated taking his medicine…

Pangi glares up at him. “Aren’t you supposed to be a scientist? Do something!”

Have you considered giving him the, ah, “kiss of life”?

Before he can shout at Newt some more, Pangi’s attention is drawn back to Lukey as he moans; his lips move as if he’s trying to speak, but no real meaningful sounds come out

Pangi leans closer and closer until Lukey’s lips are brushing against his ear. Then, and only then, can he hear the absolute most quiet most whispered of words:

“Look… at me…”

Pangi confusedly does as he’s told, head turning just the slightest bit

“What the- mmph!”

He’s cut off by a pair of lips on his own, their owner smiling into the kiss as Pangi lets out a surprised squeak

Pangi instinctively pulls back, eyes wide and face flushed and lips tingling as he looks down at a very smug-looking Lukey, who has propped himself up on his elbows and who looks far too casual for someone who was unconscious a second ago

“Wha-?” Pangi smartly asks. “Whu-?”

Newt, for whatever reason, is clapping in the background. Weirdo

Pangi looks up at them in panic. “Did the cure not work?”

Lukey huffs, drawing Pangi’s attention back towards him; he’s beautiful: hair mussed, lips pink, nose wrinkled in annoyance

“I just kissed you, and you’re asking about the cure?” Lukey demands. “What the hell, Pangi?”

Pangi points at him accusingly. “I should be asking you that! What was that for?”

Lukey looks to Newt, who just shrugs

The cure should have worked…

Lukey looks back at Pangi. “What do you mean, ‘what was that for’? We literally just talked about this!”

“Yeah, but you were all…” Pangi waves his hand around vaguely. “…love potioned!”

Lukey frowns. “‘Love potioned’?”

“Yeah, so you shouldn’t have done… that! Unless you’re still under its effects, but-”

“I’m sorry, do I need to be under a fucking love potion to want to kiss you?”

“I- yes! Maybe! I don’t…”

Pangi trails off because. Because Lukey’s eyes aren’t pink. They’re brown, same as before: warm like melted chocolate

They’re brown, and very, very hurt

Pangi swallows his words, hands clenching in his lap as he watches Lukey’s face shift from hurt to anger back to hurt back to anger back to-

…Uh-oh.

“Everything I did today,” Lukey asks, voice cracking, “was because I was under the effect of a love potion? Is that what you think? Because, let me tell you what, if you think that I wouldn’t have done any of that on a normal day, then you’re actually hopeless.”

Newt vanishes, but Pangi neither notices nor cares. Because Lukey is two seconds away from either killing him or crying or maybe even both, and Pangi doesn’t really want either to happen

He watches as Lukey sits up and pulls his lab coat closed across his body

“Everything I do,” Lukey lowly says, “is done out of care for you. I-”

He tries to make eye contact, but, for whatever reason, he breaks it on his own

It’s true, though, probably. The cure, definitely. The dates. He sang a love song at the talent show. He organized the server into clearing Pangi’s house of corruption. He asked Scott to help make the perfect date happen.

Pangi’s mind plays back situation after situation, months upon months upon weeks upon days upon conversations upon moments of every single interaction he and Lukey have ever had, and not a single one of them was any different than anything Lukey did while under the love potion’s effects

“Oh,” Pangi quietly says

“Yeah, ‘oh’.”

“I’m… a bit of an idiot, aren’t I?”

“Maybe.”

How many times has Pangi been in love before? And how many times have people told him they love him only to stab him in the back the second a more profitable partnership comes around?

Pangi isn’t an idiot. He doesn’t think so. He’s just… tired.

But that isn’t Lukey’s fault. If anything, he’s chosen Pangi time and time again even at the risk of his own life- Zam’s hostility, Pili’s murder attempts, his death to the Warden, Pangi’s corrupted self constantly digging a dagger into his back and threatening to push it in. But…

Uncertain, Pangi reaches for Lukey’s hand; thankfully, Lukey takes it. Their fingers knit together, hands balanced on Lukey’s knee

“I thought I was being obvious,” Lukey says

“You probably were,” Pangi admits. “I’m just… on Lifesteal, it’s hard to know. When someone acts… the way you do, I never know if they mean it or if they’re just trying to get my hearts.”

“Pangi…”

“So maybe you were being obvious, and maybe I was being a little stupid. But…”

Lukey gives his hand a squeeze. “It’s okay. I get it. It can be… hard. To say this kind of stuff. Sometimes.”

Not once has Lukey actually said the words, ‘I love you’. But what he’s lacked with words has been said in so many other ways that it’s easy to see in hindsight precisely what he’s been trying to say

Lukey spent most of his life locked in a glass tube being experimented on by his best friend’s shitty coworkers. It’s not hard to see why he’d have trouble saying what’s on his mind when he spent so long without one

“Marry me?” Pangi asks, looking Lukey in the eyes. Maybe he’s desperate, maybe he’s bisexual, but he wants

Lukey responds with a question of his own: “Take your sunglasses off?”

Pangi, of course, does.

Lukey smiles. “Ask me again.”

Pangi, of course, does.

A hand cups his cheek, and Lukey leans in.

“Kiss me first?” he asks, lips brushing against Pangi’s

Pangi, of course, does.

The End.

In which !Pangi goes to the Lab to make some potions and he’s immediately met with an INCREDIBLY panicked Keeper teleporting around the place looking for a goddamn milk bucket

Pangi, unwilling to deal with Lore when he’s trying to restock his pvp kit, tries sneaking into the chest room, but nooooo, the Keeper grabs him by the shoulders and beams a panic attack right into his head:

Pangolin, I know you keep splash milk potions on you, please- oh, dear, don’t give me that look, he’s barely breathing and his- come!!

Before Pangi can say anything, he’s getting dragged to his office and shoved into the goddamn fireplace

Of course, that’s when the Keeper realizes that they are, in fact, a goddamn Keeper and they just tp him to Lukey’s secret office at the end of the passageway

Pangi, dizzy from the tp, points his ax menacingly at the Keeper as he staggers into the wall

But then he sees the Keeper searching through chests rapidly, and then he sees him:

Lukey is sprawled across the large bed in the corner of the room with his lab coat acting as a blanket, face pale and hair damp with sweat

Pangi knows a weakness potion when he sees it, so he’s quick to put down his e-chest and pull out his backup pvp kit supplies. Splash milk in hand, he throws it down by the bed before he can so much as blink

The weakness visibly dissipates. But the Keeper doesn’t look much happier than they did before, teleporting to Lukey’s bedside and poking at his face with a skeletal finger

“What happened?” Pangi demands.

Lukey should be awake by now… unless this is some console bullshit, command blocks or something stupid giving him a permanent effect

The Keeper’s raspy voice whispers into his ear:

I found him like this… He said before that the High Keepers were threatening him, but I did not think they would actually try and hurt him…

Pangi doesn’t know what the difference is between a High Keeper and a regular one, but he can sure as hell guess which Keeper he’s dealing with now

Newt shakes Lukey’s shoulder some before going back to look through the room’s chests

Lowkey? Pangi wants to, like, stab him and stuff, but there’s more important business to attend to

‘Cause Lukey is unconscious, and the milk isn’t doing anything about it

Pangi, more or less a qualified medic after so long patching himself and his teammates up on the deadliest server in Minecraft, kneels by Lukey’s side and picks up his wrist to check his pulse

He’s surprised, though, as Lukey’s hand twitches its way into holding Pangi’s

His heart definitely doesn’t soar poetically as he hears a slurred, mumbled, “Holding hands before the third date? You really are easy.”

Lukey’s eye cracks open and he smiles faintly, but Pangi turns his head to look for Newt instead of at his… at Lukey, because he has spent enough time gazing longingly into Lukey’s eyes to know that they aren’t supposed to be this pink

(Or: the canon-set Love Potion AU)

[vampireunderthesunlight]

Chuuya x Reader comfort cuddles while reader is sick X3

“I'd do this and more.”

HEADCANONS

would try to finish the missions as soon as possible and give someone else the paperwork to fill out to get home sooner

actually it's one of the few periods in which you see each other practically all the time because he's usually in the office and on missions a lot and you see each other in the evenings, at dates and on days off

He doesn't get sick often, so the first few times he had to take care of you it was a bit of a mess

Makes dinner for you. Always.

If it's something serious he'll even ask Mori for advice

He'll cuddle with you all the time he's at home

SLICE OF LIFE

You were sitting on the couch in your apartment, blankets all over you and a book on your lap, when someone knocks at your door. You don't even have to check, given the time (8pm), it's surely Chuuya. You lazily get up, walk to the door -still covered in blankets- and open it. The red haired man walks in muttering a "good evening" and lets himself fall on the sofa. You close the door and guess he just got back from a mission. His coat is dirty and he's holding his hat in his hands.

"Good evening..." you reply, your voice a bit shuffled.

He turns his head and looks at you narrowing his eyes "are you sick?" He asks, even though you know he doesn't really need a confirmation. "What's with the blankets, it's not even cold. Damnit, you know you should tell me when something's off," he starts babbling about how he would have come home sooner if he had known, and in the meantime he gets up, throws his coat and hat on the couch and moves to the kitchen. You follow him around sighing, still holding onto your blankets.

"Chuuya, it's just a cold. There's no need for yo-"

He shuts you up with a shh and puts a cup of tea in your hands. "I'm preparing dinner." He says, with an assertive voice.

You stare at the cup for a few moments, then shrug and sit down on a chair, observing him while he cooks. "Thank you." You say.

"Shut it. I love you." He replies "I'd do this and more." He adds, muttering.

You smile and get up, walking behind him wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his shoulder. "I love you too."

He smiles slightly and kisses your cheek.

a/n: this was so cute thank you so much ahhhh

[dallysdolly444]

Can you write Dallas x curtis!sister? It’s my fav! Thank you☺️

pretty little baby.

summary: dally wasn't the kind of guy darry, or even ponyboy and soda wanted around their sister. but he'd be there anyways.

warnings: smoking, fem!reader, tooth aching fluff my boy deserves some fluff, lmk if i missed anything <3

dallas was at the curtis house as usual, darry was making dinner, steve and soda were arm wrestling and ponyboy and johnny were reading. no one was paying attention to him, so he snuck off to your room, as he often does. he leans on your doorframe, watching you put your hair curlers in.

you look up, and smile. you actually smile? god, you always smile. he loves that every time. anyone else would tell him to 'get lost' but you just smile. "hi dally" you say, with a kind smile. like he isn't just some hood. like he deserves respect.

he grins back at you, not in the kind way he kind of wants to, but in his dumb sleazy way that he does. "hey doll. whatcha doin there with your whole rolls an' stuff" he says cooly, walking over to pick up one of your rollers.

instead of smacking him away, scolding him or getting angry, you just laugh and let him check the roller out. "i'm doing my hair. oooh, dally, can i put one in your hair?" you offer sweetly, looking up at him with those big eyes.

"no way, i ain't a girl" dally scoffs, sounding offended. but, despite saying that, he sits down on your bed, almost wanting you to put the curler in anyways. when you just nod and don't even push, he sighs. "fine. jus' do it. don't go tellin' anybody 'bout this, alright?" he scoffs, looking away.

you smile sweetly, climbing over to sit in front of him. you straddle his legs, making his heartbeat speed up. he stares up at you, his eyes taking over that puppy-like quality usually only seen with johnny. you gather some of his hair, curling it up with the hair roller. he chuckles, seeing himself in your vanity mirror. "you look so cute, dally!" you declare with a giggle when you're finally done.

dallas rolls his eyes. "i look like a damn pansy" he says, going up to scratch his hair. when you pull his hand away, he drops it, not wanting to piss you off. "what's next, ya gonna paint my nails or some shit?" he scoffs, sarcastically. he doesn't want to, but if you wanted too, he'd let you.

you smile proudly. "i think you look pretty" you tell him, grabbing some hairspray to set the curls, watching as he coughs. funny how a boy who smokes more than a chimney gets all sensitive over some hairspray.

"yeah yeah, call the damn beauty parlour why dontcha?" dallas scoffs, picking a cigarette out of the pack in his pocket, lighting it up. he takes a drag and lets out the smoke, angling his face away from you so he doesn't blow his smoke into your face.

it's one of the things you've noticed recently. he would always blow smoke in peoples face, never yours. "hey, how come you don't smoke in my face? i'm not complaining, but you do it to everyone else" you ask curiously, sitting down next to him on your bed.

dallas pauses, leaning back. "don't let it get to your head, curtis." he scoffs. "i just... ain't polite to smoke in a chicks face" he mutters. "your ma taught me that" he says, chewing the inside of his mouth.

he remembers the day clearly. he had been smoking inside the curtis household last year, smoking a cancer stick. he was stinking up the house, and mrs. curtis was always one to call him out on it. "dallas put that thing out" she had scolded.

"why should i?" he scoffs, blowing the smoke out in her face. that night he was forced to make dinner for the whole family, and it sure taught him. he still smoked around the house, but he would never blow it in a girls face.

you looked up at him, remembering how your mother and dallas had gotten along. she liked him, she always was the kind of person to take in strays, and dallas was one of them. you smiled slightly. "well, she taught you well" you say, holding eye contact with him. dally felt as if you could see everything about him.

that's when the door opens. darry was checking in on you, making sure you weren't getting up to any trouble. he frowns, seeing dallas in your room. he chooses to ignore the rollers in dallas's hair, but he doesn't ignore the fact that dallas winston is alone with his sister. "what're you doing in here?" he scolds, crossing his arms.

"jeez, darry, cool off" dallas scoffs, shuffling away from you. "am i not allowed to hang out with her now?" he asks, leaning back. "cmon, man. ain't like we're doing anything" he scoffs, taking a drag from his cigarette and blowing out the smoke.

you just nod. "yeah, cmon darry. i haven't hung out with dally in ages" you say, and you're not wrong. darry has pretty much dragged dallas away from you at every cost. you cant really blame him though, everyone knows how dallas is.

your brother sighs, knowing there isn't much else he can do. "whatever. just leave the damn door open, and no funny business, winston" he says coldly, leaving the door open as he leaves.

dallas grins at you "you know why he don't want me hanging out with you, yeah?" he asks, lying down on your bet, getting all comfy. "i ain't a good influence, doll" he says, resting his hands behind his head.

you smile. "we're friends though. i'd be a fair-weather friend if i stopped hanging out with you just cause darry doesn't like it" you point out, lying next to him.

dallas just smiles. it sure feels nice to be wanted, doesn't it? you talk for about an hour longer, eventually painting dallas's nails a pretty pink, no matter how much he protests and groans. you take the rollers from earlier out, and he really likes it, you can tell. even when he scoffs and says he 'ain't no pretty boy'. but you told him he looked handsome.

you only smile when you notice a few of your rollers are missing after he goes home, especially when you realise how his hair is slightly curled every day since.

authors note: tysm for ur request! requests are sooo fun. i hope this was to ur liking anonn! btw i just hit 250 likes! tysm for all the people who helped me reach this milestone, it's crazy how well this it going :D

lots of love, dolly x

[animeomegas]

[TWST] Things he loves about you.

Featuring: omega!Jamil

(Just some musings as I learn about Jamil. I hope I captured him okay, I still have a lot to learn, for sure. Hoping to do more of these for other characters in the future though!)

JAMIL

He loves that you take his fear seriously.

Maybe you tease him about bugs a bit, maybe you don't, but regardless, you always take it seriously.

If he asks you to check something for insects, you do it thoroughly.

He saw a spider in his nest? You methodically go through every pillowcase and every fold in the blankets, leaving no stone unturned until you find it, and even after you do, you check what's left just in case and humour him when he demands to rebuild it somewhere else.

If he tells you to remove a beetle and you lose track of it, you don't lie to him and tell him you got it. You admit you lost it and the two of you spend the next two hours tearing apart the room to find it, even if it's the middle of the night.

Ultimately, it's about trust. He can trust you to take things seriously, simply because they mean something to him, no matter your own opinion.

He loves that you are wickedly competent.

It honestly doesn't matter how or where, but there's something so deliciously satisfying about watching you win something, destroy your competition, outwit someone... it's captivating.

Whether you're winning in competitive sports, scoring top marks in exams, snatching the lead role in the drama production, outwitting your classmates, he loves to watch you succeed.

He loves watching someone underestimate you, only to get destroyed.

Sometimes he feels bitter that he's not supported in succeeding in the same way, but things are changing, slowly, and he's getting to show his real self a bit more now.

And he can't deny that he loves being one half of a power couple.

He loves that you find him attractive.

Jamil knows he looks ordinary, plain, average.

He has used it to his advantage his whole life. Before meeting you, he doesn't think much about it.

Beauty brings more trouble than it's worth.

But he's also nervous when you start to truly look at him, see him. Are you be disappointed?

But you aren't. Quite the opposite in fact.

He loves that you compliment him, that you go crazy whenever he lets his hair down, that you hype him up whenever he puts on a new outfit, that you sometimes just stare at him and when he calls on you, you insist that you were distracted by his beauty.

Shit, you even call it cute when he's focused and his tongue comes out. He knows it's weird, but you... like it?

And his scent. It's strong, bitter even. He covers it with scent patches pretty much all the time, but he knows it must be an acquired taste. His scent is never listed when someone is talking about the best omega scents, there are no candles with his scent, no perfumes.

But when he's finally comfortable enough to take his scent patches off around you, you're not just delighted, you also seek it out. You nuzzle at his neck until he's as flushed as the sun just to encourage his scent.

It makes him want to hide, to pull his hood over his face or pull the blanket over his head... It's too much sometimes, but he doesn't want to think about that attention disappearing either.

He loves that you appreciate his cooking. Really appreciate it.

He's an amazing cook, he's not surprised that you love his food.

But no matter how much he cooks for you, you never come to expect it, to write it off as something he should be doing.

It's always special and you're always grateful and you always understand how much time and effort it takes.

And when you join him? He loves that too.

Whether he's teaching you everything, or you're trading amazing recipes back and forth... he loves it. It's a love language to him, as long as you encourage and appreciate him properly.

He loves when you cheer him on.

You come to his basketball games, you lavish praise on his dancing, you watch his resourcefulness and cunning like it's something impressive. But you're also real with him, and you tell him to tone it down if he gets carried away. He appreciates that just as much.

And you don't ever let him side step the praise. No matter how much he demurs or backtracks or deflects, you make sure he knows that you're proud of him and that he's doing amazing.

It's a lot, but it's also everything he ever wanted.

(There's definitely more than this, of course, but that's what I have for now! I really love Jamil's character a lot, so I hope I did him justice :D)

[yanderemommabean]

You did not in fact hear the last of the yandere opener and headliner, I just passively kept them in my brain with vague scenarios that weren’t worth sharing but now that has changed because I got tickets for a show in that same venue with a band that has similar vibes to them and now it’s gone from “What if they took me with them on their bus that night” to “What if they missed their chance and now have been staking out the rock shows in the city in hopes of finding me again.” (Also I felt I didn’t give the the headliner the attention he deserves so this is my apology to him.)

The two of them both simmering together in their want for me for months, resulting in them being a little more cooperative than they would be otherwise. They spent the rest of the tour picking up groupies that bear some resemblance to me to take the edge off, but they know they won’t be satisfied with cheap knockoffs. The only information they know about me is the name I gave to the opener when I met him at the merch table and the fact that I seemed to really enjoy their type of music. The headliner uses his connections to keep an eye on the reservations for as many rock shows in the city he can, and when the opener confirms one particular name as mine, they know they’ve hit the jackpot. And better yet, they have a few months to plan. They’ve waited this long, what’s a little more?

Day of the show, there I am by myself at the front of the line, scrolling though my phone as I wait for the doors to open. When I get a sense that someone’s standing near me, who do I see but the opener, who seems just as pleasantly surprised to meet again. We pass the time chatting away, with me none the wiser to the headliner behind the closed doors setting everything into motion. A little threat to security should they get in the way, a little bribe to the bartenders to look the other way should something wind up in my drink. By the time the crowd starts to pour in, he’s already taken his seat in a dark VIP table in the corner, watching me strut in with the opener’s arm slung around me.

Is he a little jealous that he doesn’t get to be the one cozying to me during the show? Absolutely, but he can begrudgingly admit that the opener was the one who built a rapport with me last time and is the ideal distraction. Less impulsive, less recognizable, less threatening. The fact that he was promised that I’d be bunking with him that first night if he let the opener have his fun tonight definitely didn’t hurt his resolve.

On his end, the opener’s on cloud nine from the moment I greeted him with a smile. With no barrier or merch table between us, he can smell my perfume, feel the heat radiating off my skin, hear every little giggle as he chats me up. It’s taking every ounce of his self control not to just pull me into a dark hallway and devour me, but he knows all good things come to those who wait. So he flirts and he dotes, taking in every word I say like it’s the new gospel, breaking down my walls bit by bit. As we stroll inside, he leans in to give me a quick kiss, saying he’ll be right back with our drinks and leaving while I’m still too flustered to object.

I don’t buy a single one of my drinks all night. Every time I start running low, there he is with a refill and an innocent smile, even as I tell him I should slow down, feeling dizzy and lethargic by the third drink. He coos that he’s seen me drink more than this before, I can handle more, he knows I can. Before the band performing that night has even completed their sound check, I’m wasted and incoherent, and just a little afraid as I finally pick up on how weird it really is seeing a man who lives a few hundred miles from this city again. Not that it does me much good as I collapse into his arms, the last thing I see being his eyes, gleaming with emotions I don’t want to think about.

For a second he holds me and just looks at me, moving some of my hair out of my face as he considers my unconscious form. It would be so easy to call off the deal, to snatch me away for his own fun. He wouldn’t even have to restrain me. I’d look so pretty, laid out on his bed for the taking, unable to protest or fight back. Just as he really starts to consider it, the headliner is there to grab his arm and start pulling him toward the fire escape. It’s for the best. The headliner would be insufferable if he felt cheated, and besides, it wouldn’t be half as much fun not getting to hear me cry and moan for him.

As I start to stir, the first thing I process is a tight pressure around my waist and a warm body behind me. Instinctively, I begin to shift and tiredly tug at my unknown restraint, only serving for it to get tighter as a low voice chuckles in my ear making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “‘Bout time.” My faculties properly returning, the panic quickly takes over my mind. Before I can get more than a quick thrash in, however, the arm around my waist pulls back and two strong hands grab my wrists, rolling me onto my stomach with a heavy weight pinning me down. It’s only as I’m forced into such a vulnerable position that I become starkly aware of my missing clothes. The stranger on top of me is slowly rutting against my ass, a prominent clothed hardness pushing into my skin in teasing, exploring motions. A deep groan of satisfaction comes from above me. “Fuuuck, you feel just as good as I’d imagined you would under me.” A particularly insistent thrust draws a whimper from my throat, and I feel the hands around my wrists tighten in barely contained excitement. “Maybe even better.”

My wrists are released, the man on top of me still planted too firmly on me for me to get more than a few squirms under him. My blood runs cold as I hear first the sound of a shirt being discarded somewhere in my periphery, and freezes solid at the unmistakeable sound of a belt coming undone. My struggle renews, but my arms are grabbed once more, yanked behind my back and secured together with the tight leather. Tears of confusion, fear, and humiliation begin to pour from my eyes, but all they get me is a condescending pat on the shoulder blades as I feel his hot cock now push directly against me, a hiss of pleasure slipping through his teeth. Not even bothering to get fully undressed, I feel the teeth of his jeans biting into my thighs as he slides his dick back and forth across my cunt, the head rubbing against my clit over and over again as I close my eyes and try not to think about how good it feels.

As he feels my cunt get wetter with every push against my sensitive bundle of nerves, the headliner can feel his mind go more and more blank. He’d dreamt for so long about what this pussy would feel like cupping his dick and none of those fantasies measured up to the real thing. Unable to hold back anymore, the hand that isn’t holding my arms hostage reaches down to adjust his angle, pushing directly against my hole. The reaction is immediate. My struggles renew yet again, panicked cries begging him not to do it, to let me go, but he’s barely even registering my words as he thrusts into me, his head finally consumed by the wet warmth he’s craved for months. He can’t help the deep groan that comes out overtop my pitiful crying, nor can he help the automatic push of his hips to force more inside of me, stretching me painfully as he sinks deeper and deeper.

When he finally gets all the way down to the hilt, he stops for a moment, panting, appreciating the sigh before him. My pretty makeup for the show smudged into his pillows, my shoulders heaving with painful sobs, my wrists still pushing against their restraints in hope of freedom. He’s never seen something quite so beautiful. One of his hands gently glides across my torso, taking in every curve as he gives my body a chance to adjust. His hand finally comes to rest firmly on my shoulder as he leans down until I can feel his hot breath against my face. His low, vaguely familiar voice murmuring empty platitudes into my ear, urging me to just relax and let it happen as his hips begin to stir in impatience.

Tired of waiting for me to hurry vu and accept him, the headliner pushes himself back up, gripping the belt tight and holding my hip as be begins to rail me into the mattress. Months of longing, of desperation, of frustration all coming out as once as he drives into my cunt, slamming into my g-spot again and again. I can’t even hold onto the mattress to ground myself, fingernails cutting into my palm as I try not to lose myself in the feeling. As I bite down my moans and whines, above me, he openly groans and rambles. “God, such a good tight little pussy. Knew you’d feel good, but holy shit, baby. You’re fucking divine. Taking me so fucking well, this is what you were born to do, huh?”

Between the filth spewing from how mouth, the thick cock pounding my insides, and my clit rubbing against the sheets with every rock of his hips, I never stood a chance. I cum within a minute, screaming into the pillow, body tensing and writhing as the high takes me over. Throughout it all, he doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow. No, all he does is let go of my hip in favor of grabbing my hair, yanking my face up from the pillow. For the first time, I finally get a good long look at the stranger treating me like a living sex toy, and if I wasn’t already high off the nonstop waves of overstimulation, I’d have screamed again in horror at the sight of the renowned musician grinning down at me with a mad, loving gleam in his eye. “That quick, huh? Oh, we’re gonna have SO much fun with you.”

Across the hall, in his own bedroom, the opener lays back in bed, serenaded by the sounds of me crying in pleasure from the other side of the apartment the two had rented. While he regrets not taking me when he had the chance, he can’t deny the sounds of me being thrown over the edge over and over made for beautiful music. His own dick twitches from the confines of his boxers, but while he lazily palms over it, he decides against fully taking care of it.

After all, tomorrow is his turn, and he’d hate to spend that energy before the main event.

AAAHHH!!!! YES YES YES YES YES!!!! I love your brain!!! ugh I'm so addicted to how you describe things too, the way they grunt and taunt, how they roughly yank on the belt, how the zippers press against you- This was amazing!!!!

100/10 eating this again and again and again and again and again and again and-

-Mommabean