#just imagine this stern southern man holding the hands of these two little kids

[angelcactus]

More dad Sam ideas, why? I'm unwell and I enjoy this idea very much.

Sam helping Fred and Bright with their new magic like how a dad teaches a kid how to ride a bike. It's a lot of hand holding and affirmations

Bright once got stuck up a tree and Sam panicked about it bc it was almost dawn

Darlin was over once and they took the kids to the store and spoiled them with shaw security money

Sam knows that bc Fred and Bright are kids they'll be picky with food so he notes what blood they like so they don't whine about it

Fred and Bright were with William during the inversion, they wanted to see lovely, but once the shades came out all footage was cut so the two were afraid for Sam. When Sam came back he held those two do tightly you would think he was dying

After meeting darlin Sam softened up with the two, he did get onto bright alot but not as much as he used to

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Makayla Part Three

Sam Winchester x Reader

Words: 2149

Part One; Part Two

Summary: Tensions are high in the bunker as you make a plan of attack against the vampires. Sam tries to make up for lost time. Everyone bonds with the newest Winchester. 

Notes: Okay, writing Sam trying to figure out how to be a dad is sooooo fun. Also, Uncle Dean is possibly my favorite thing ever. I hope you guys enjoy part three to this series! I’m having a blast!

Special shout out to my amazing beta reader Sarah, @suckmysupernatural​ . I love her so much and honestly, she’s helped me so much in getting these imagines out for you and she has some absolutely killer writing of her own!

Want more Supernatural? Find it HERE

-

“Mom!” You woke up to the sound of your daughter screaming. “Mommy!” Makayla was kicking at the blankets, her little fists swinging at some invisible monster. Another nightmare. You grabbed her and pulled her into your arms. 

“It’s okay, baby. Wake up. I’ve got you.” You rocked her back and forth until her eyes opened, fat tears spilling onto her cheeks. “You’re alright, Kayla.”

“It was the monsters again. The shadow man.” 

“He isn’t here, baby.” You ran your fingers through her hair. “He can’t hurt you.” Your door flew open and Dean and Sam rushed in, Mary peaked out behind them. 

“What is it? Did it hurt you?” Sam rushed to the bed while Dean checked every corner, both holding their pistols. Mary even had a machete at the ready. 

“It’s okay, guys. She just had a bad dream.” You explained, groggily getting out of bed with Kayla still trembling in your arms. “Do you guys have any milk? That usually helps her calm down.” Sam thought for a moment, but Dean responded quickly. 

“Chocolate or white?” Sam turned and gave him a strange look. “What? That stuff is the nectar of the gods, Sammy.” Sam shook his head. 

“I can’t believe you're older than me.” 

“C-can I have chocolate milk, daddy?” Kayla sniffed.

“See, the kid gets it.” Dean scoffed. Mary smacked his arm. Sam was still processing being called dad. 

“Come on, I’ll take you to the kitchen.” Sam held out his arms to take her and you hesitated. Then you remembered that you had been doing this for four years and he had missed all of it. You tried to give him a peace making smile, but he ignored you. Makayla buried her face in his shoulder, trying to hide her tears like a tough girl. Sam sat her down and went over to the fridge, finding the chocolate milk hidden behind a case of beers. 

“I woke everybody up.” Makayla cried, covering her face with her small hands. Sam poured the milk and hurried back over to her. 

“Hey, no, it’s okay.” He soothed, gently pulling her hands away. “Here, have some of this.” He held up the glass of milk to her lips and she drank slowly, her tears eventually stopping. “Better?” She nodded slightly. Sam pulled up a chair beside her, setting the now half empty cup on the table. 

“I bet you never get scared.” Makayla looked at him, her big blue-green eyes filled with awe. Her eyes looked like his. Sam smiled. 

“I get scared all the time.” 

“Really?” She gasped. 

“Oh yeah. In fact, I have nightmares too.” Her mouth fell open and Sam continued, his tone sweet and caring. “I used to be really scared of my nightmares, but you know what I did?” She leaned forward excitedly. “I told myself that I can face anything as long as I remember that I’m not alone. So the next time that you get scared by the…”

“The shadow man.” She shivered. 

“Okay, the next time you get shared by the shadow man, you just remember that you’ve got me and your mom and your Uncle Dean and Grandma Mary. You’ve even got an angel on your side.” Her eyes widened.

“An angel?” Sam couldn’t help but laugh at her excitement. 

“That’s right, sweetie, Uncle Cas is like your guardian uncle.” Cas could barely guard himself most of the time, but she didn’t need to know that. “You can always fight your fears when you remember that you are never alone.” She hugged his arm, her cheek pressed against his shoulder. 

“My mom is right.” She beamed. “You are a hero.” And just like that, Sam Winchester’s heart melted and not just for the little girl clinging to him. Yup… he was in trouble.

-

Sam stayed up most of the night getting Makayla back to sleep so he slept in a little longer than the rest of the bunker. Mary got up first and made the coffee, followed by you and then a very disgruntled looking Dean. You were curled up in one of the chairs, looking over your journal. There had to be some way to connect all of your research to find the vampires’ nest. 

“It looks like that girl has got Sam wrapped around her finger already.” Mary smirked, looking at you as she sipped her coffee. She wasn’t your biggest fan, of course, but heart breaker or not, you still gave Sam what she had always hoped for him- a family of his own. Dean made a sound, but he was still only half awake. 

“So I’ve pinpointed the area of the nest, but not the specific location.” You slid your journal across the table to him. “During slower hunting seasons, they’ve stayed near home in Springfield, Colorado. As far as I know, there’s fifteen, maybe seventeen.” 

“Perfect,” Dean grumbled. You were about to add something when your eyes went wide.

“Dean!” You shrieked, pointing to the doorway. He turned around in confusion. 

“Oh god,” He jumped out of his chair and rushed to Makayla, who had somehow found his pistol and was now pointing it at his mother. “Hey kiddo, I’m going to need you to give that back to me.” He laughed nervously, holding out his hand. 

“How did she get that?” Mary exclaimed. 

“Hell if I know.” Dean kept smiling, hoping that Makayla would calmly hand over his very lethal weapon. 

“That’s a bad word, Uncle Dean.” Kayla scolded, shaking the pistol at him. Dean’s eyes widened frantically. 

“Makayla Mary Y/L/N, give him that gun. You know that it’s not a toy.” Your mom voice instinctively kicked in and Makayla pouted her lip, giving you her classic puppy dog gaze. You could tell that Dean’s resolve was failing to her cuteness, but you were holding strong. You put your hands on your hips. “Now.” She handed Dean his pistol and he quickly tucked it into his waistband. Mary was looking at you, blush spreading on her cheeks. 

“What did you say her name was?” She gasped. You hadn’t even realized that you said her full name. 

“It’s um, Makayla, after my best friend. And Mary… after you.” Even if Sam didn’t know when she was born, you still wanted his family to be a part of her. For the first time since you’d met, Mary looked at you without glaring. She looked really touched. 

“Piggyback ride!” Makayla squealed before suddenly jumping onto Dean’s back. 

“Son of a-” He started until you gave him a stern look. He glared back at you, but underneath his annoyance, he had a tone of affection in his voice when he spoke to his niece. “Alright kid, but only for a few laps.” You looked on with an amused smile. Dean even made a few horse noises, making Makayla giggle. You felt your phone buzz in your pocket. It was Naomi, probably just calling to check in and make sure you were alright.

“Miss me already? How sweet.” You snarked. Your smirk dropped when it wasn’t her voice on the other line. 

“We’ve been looking for you for a long time.” The man drawled. Your heart dropped. You knew that voice. That night flashed through your head. That fake southern sweetness singing your name as they hunted you, your best friend’s blood still dripping from their lips. Montgomery. 

“Where’s Naomi?” You snapped, your changed tone catching Mary’s attention. 

“She was delicious.” He laughed. You tried to focus on your anger to cover up the pain that shot through your chest. 

“I’m going to end you, you bastard.” You said through gritted teeth. He just laughed. 

“We know all about the little team you’ve assembled. It’s touching really. To think I’ve inspired a family reunion.” The vamp mocked you and you could feel the hot tears blurring your vision. “Make no mistake, Y/N. They’ll all die. Starting with that handsome tall one, the one that knocked you up all those years ago. But don’t worry, I have bigger plans for you.” His voice changed to a terrifying growl. “I’m going to turn you, Y/N. Turn you into the thing you’ve hated for so long. And that brat will be your first kill.” 

Montgomery hung up and you looked at the phone with a shaking hand. Don’t let him get to you. Don’t let him get to you. You threw the phone against the wall, watching it shatter on the floor. You didn’t even see Sam standing there. You were lucky you missed his head. Dean put a frightened Makayla down. 

“Hey Kayla, why don’t you go with Grandma Mary for a little while?” Dean gave her a little push towards his mother and Mary took her to the other room. His flashed back to you. “The hell was that?”

“They killed Naomi.” You said, resisting the urge to wreck anything you could get your hands on, especially since Dean was the closest. “They killed her because she helped me.” Naomi was a good friend. Whenever you needed someone to watch over Makayla, it was Naomi’s place that you took her to. No questions as long as you came back in one piece. 

“I’m sorry.” Sam sighed. His kind tone nearly made you break. You needed someone to yell, to blame you for letting this happen. 

“We’ve got to take this sons of bitches out.” Dean was itching to kill and he knew you were too. 

“We need a plan first, Dean. We can’t just go in swinging machetes.” Sam scoffed. “We don’t even know where they are.” 

“We can always draw them out.” You suggested. “They want me, they can come and get me.” 

“What? No.” Sam exclaimed. “That’s not even remotely an option.”

“Sam, it might be the only way to get to them.” You refuted. “They’ve been hunting me for too long. If Montgomery wants to dance, then I say ‘let’s dance’.”

“Did you suddenly forget that this isn’t just about you?” His jaw clenched and he crossed the kitchen to you. 

“I’m doing this for Makayla.” 

“No, you’re doing this for you!” Your faces were too close together and the look in his eyes made you take a step back. “You’ve gotten that sweet girl messed up in your fight for revenge when she should have grown up playing with teddy bears and Barbies.” That was the last straw. This wasn’t just about you. 

“I am not John, Sam.” You spat. How dare he stand there and call you a bad mother? Sam just glared. 

“Really, cause it seems to me you’re just like him. Makayla is growing up just like I did. A parent obsessed with vengeance, no regard for how screwed up they’re making their kid!” He barely finished his sentence before you slapped him.

 Nobody said a word. Sam jerked his head back towards you and Dean was ready to step in before this got ugly. The moment was interrupted, however, by the quiet sound of crying. Your heart dropped and a wave of guilt washed over both you and Sam. Makayla looked up at her parents. 

“We’re supposed to be a family.” She bawled. “Why do you have to fight?” Before either of you could say anything, she took off down the hall. 

“Makayla!” Sam yelled, feeling absolutely awful. 

“Kayla, honey come back!” The three of you went after her, but it was a big bunker and she was a pretty small child. “Makayla!”

“Damn that kid is fast.” Dean muttered. You stopped. 

“Okay, Dean, you go check the dungeon, I’ll go check the bedrooms, and Sam you can look in the garage.” You suggested. Sam nodded, your fight put aside, but not forgotten. His cheek still stung a little. 

“Makayla!” He called out, hearing you and Dean depart for your designated areas. He opened the door to the garage and was surprised to find the door open. “Makayla, come on out.” A cold breeze blew in and he noticed a little huddled form just outside the garage door. He took off his flannel and slowly peeked outside. “Sweetheart, what are you doing out here?” He draped his shirt around her. It might as well have been a blanket. 

“I-I don’t like yelling. The shadow man always yells.” She cried. Sam sighed. He had made his daughter cry because he couldn’t just face his real feelings for you. 

“I’m so sorry sweetie, you’re mom and I were having a disagreement. We won’t yell anymore.” 

“Why did Mommy hit you?” 

“She didn’t mean to.” He gave her a convincing smile. Makayla peeked over his shoulder. 

“Who’s that?” Sam’s brows furrowed together. 

“Wh-” His head was slammed into the ground before he could even turn around. 

“Leave my daddy alone!” Makayla cried and a person in all black picked her up. 

“No…” Sam said hazily, his consciousness slowly fading. “Makayla…”

-

Continue to Part Four

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado

Supernatural: @desimarie12; @deandreamernp; @vicmc624​; @halesandy​ @livshaes​;  @d-whinchestergirl87​;  @mrspeacem1nusone​

Sam Winchester: @theamuz;  @adeliness​

Makayla Series: @rhiannon-the-troublemaker​; @hoboal87​

[writemoment]

Babysit The Babysitter

Writer: Ellie-Mae (Pen Name)

Part: 1/1

Summary: Babysitting was Y/n’s part time job. To her surprise, the school’s prized heart-throb is basically a full time mom.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Warnings/Rated: None

Word Count: 1,833

( Reader ) P.O.V.

Hawkins, Indiana. My newfound home. 

I’ve been here for two months. Two glorious months of blending into the crowds and trying to not become the target of social ridicule. In that aspect, nothing has changed from my former hometown on the southern tip of the state. No matter where you go, peers are jerks.

I clamber into my house, hanging my backpack on the edge of the kitchen chair. “I’ve got you a job.” Mom says while stirring something sizzling on the stove.

My brow raises curiously. “A job? What kind of job?” I linger over to the fridge and open it to browse it’s empty shelves as a distraction. Finding work has been a source of stress for me, especially in a small town like Hawkins where everyone knows everyone. 

Mom smiles reassuringly, setting the food to simmer. She walks over to me, closing the fridge so I will look at her. “It’s a babysitting job for the Wheeler’s. I know how much you like kids, so I thought it was the perfect opportunity! Holly is around four and their son, Mike, is thirteen.”

It’s true, I do love kids... However, thirteen is a difficult age between I-don’t-need-a-babysitter and I-will-set-the-house-on-fire-if-I’m-not-watched. That’s the only thing that gives me a millisecond of hesitation. I smile at my mom, her expression mirroring mine.

“When’s my first shift?”

****

So, Friday after school, I drive over to the Wheeler residence to meet with the parents before they went off to have a ‘date night’. Holly was your typical four year old, playing with her toys on the living room carpet. Mike, on the other hand, was less than thrilled at the thought of my company.

“Mom, I don’t need a babysitter! This is ridiculous!” He cries as Mrs. Wheeler slides in a pair of earrings. “Will, Dustin and Lucas are supposed to be coming over to finish our campaign!”

“And you can finish your game just fine while Y/n is here. Nancy is out with Jonathan and we need someone here to put Holly to bed. I’m sorry, Michael, but you’re just going to have to deal with it.” Mrs. Wheeler finishes as she slips her heel into a pair of pumps.

“Dad, you can’t be serious?” Mike asks incredulously. My presence, standing like a statue in the middle of their house, seemed uncomfortable. I wanted to vanish from the throws of this disagreement between parents and child.

Mr. Wheeler was a very monotone man. Without much of a glance at his son, he said, “Listen to your mother.” He slipped on his coat, patted Michael’s head and followed his wife out with a definitive shut of the door.

Mike groaned loudly and he was obviously aggravated.

I drop my things beside the door and decide to check on Holly while I let Mike simmer down. She smiles at me, not finding me too intrusive, and continues to play with her dollies. Mrs. Wheeler said she ordered pizza and left the money on the counter.

Mike stands in the doorway, eyeing me wearily. “So... what kind of campaign are you having?” I ask, trying to break my way past his defense. He looks unimpressed with my efforts but answers anyway.

“It’s for D&D. I’ve been working on it for weeks and everything has to be perfect-” He’s getting antsy about it and I can tell that he’s afraid it’ll be disappointing.

“Dungeons and Dragons...Got it. It’ll be perfect, I’m sure. How about you go on down and set up? I’ll bring the pizza when it arrives.” Mike furrows his brows at me. “Listen, I get it. You’re too old for a babysitter. I’ll respect that, but you gotta cut me some slack. Deal?”

Something shifts and I can sense that I’ve made quite the impression. “Fine, deal.” He agrees. I sigh in relief and he spares no time in going downstairs to prepare. At least I’ll only have to really focus on Holly until her bedtime.

****

A few hours later, Holly was tucked in and knocked out in slumber. The boys downstairs kept to themselves and didn’t budge character even when I came sloping down the stairs with pizza boxes. Though, they did take the liberty of introducing themselves to me briefly.

Now that I had free time, I ventured back down into their lair with the intention to clean up whatever mess they’ve made during their game. Four boys sat around a fold-up table with junk food wrappers and crushed soda cans littering the area around them. All of them looked very high on sugar.

The bottom step creaked underneath my feet and all of their eyes turned up at me. “Don’t stop on my account! I’m just gonna pick up the trash so your parents don’t kill me.” I say, holding up the trash bin I’ve dragged along with me.

Mike shrugs nonchalantly and continues to describe the scene they all just rolled into. I can feel the hesitation to launch into full-blown roll playing while I’m walking in such near proximity. Hurrying my clean up, I try to make as little noise as possible as I crouch over to scoop the evidence of their escapades from sight. There must have been some sort of acceptance of me since they all begin to scream in horror, roaring with accents and acting out their advancements as they roll their dice.

My lips pull up into a smile at their excitement. All of them are out of their seats, focused on the board in front of them as Dustin rolls for dexterity. I don’t see the number in which it landed but the hollers mixed with ‘yes!’s lead me to believe it was exactly what they needed.

Suddenly, the door behind them slams open and Steve Harrington prances through looking stern. “You guy’s said you would be done at nine! I’ve been waiting outside for thirty minutes you shi-”

His eyes land on me as the boys lower themselves into their seats. I can’t imagine the expression I’m wearing. Shock? Confusion? Interest? Either way, I just saw golden-boy-heart-throb Steve freaking Harrington go into full mom mode.

Dustin speaks up, “I’m sorry, Steve. We didn’t know it would take this long! We are almost finished, if you could just-” His words are cut off by Holly’s voice roaming the living room. She must have been woken up by the commotion.

Looking sheepish, I silently excuse myself, though all eyes watch me ascend, to go take care of the disturbed four year old. Holly looks pitiful with a blanket draped over her shoulder and a pout tugging at her lip.

Picking her up, I stroll back up to her room. Her head flops onto my shoulder, still very exhausted and obviously troubled at being stolen from her precious rest. It takes almost no time to get her to settle back into her mattress with a sigh. My fingers brush her golden strands away from her mouth and I see her become heavy as she goes under. I close the door, only leaving it open a crack, behind me. Hopefully it’ll be enough to buffer out the sound of the boys downstairs.

Assuming the boys would have dispersed after the arrival of Steve, I'm quite surprised to see them all continuing their game as if nothing happened. Even more so when I notice they’ve convinced the brown hair senior to participate.

At the grounds of Hawkins High School, I’ve seen Steve around. Rumor has it that he had changed quite a bit from last year, though it’s inconclusive as to why. Steve was a popular. He had girls chasing after him, he was athletic and fell underneath another high school cliche. That’s all that I knew about him.

Yet, here he stands in front of me. Purple pointed hat and matching robes clothe him as a poor excuse for a wizard. He recites some line Mike had written out for him with thinly veiled irritation, though he does put a bit of effort forward to sound mighty. 

Will and Lucas join up to strike him down, their combined skills making for an epic conclusion to their campaign. Seeming as if Steve almost gets into it, he falls to his knees, hands grasping his chest as he curses them. With a dramatic cough he falls flat on his back, tongue lolling out of the corner of his mouth- dead. 

The boys laugh and I join in, covering my mouth in a weak attempt to hide my amusement. My burst of giggles must contrast very differently because it immediately makes Steve’s eyes open and him hop up, shedding the ridiculous getup. “Nicely done, boys! Mike, your parents should be home soon. Do you need help cleaning up?” I ask.

Lucas waves me off. “Nah, we can put everything away.”

“Thanks.” Will adds.

Together, they start gathering up their things while discussing the events that took place on their way to a victorious game. I’m so focused on the boys that I forget Steve for a moment.

“Hi, I’m Steve. Harrington, that is.” He introduces, holding out his hand for me to take. I accept it, smiling at him. Of course I know who he is, but I won’t point that out. “You’re that new girl that moved here a while back, right?”

Drawing my hand back to my side, I nod. “Yeah, a little over two months ago. I’m Y/n.” Bending at the waist, I gather his wizard robes and playfully extend them toward him. “These are yours, I presume?”

“What? No-no, that-” He stops at my smile, realizing my attempt at banter. “Oh, ha-ha. You try saying no to these kids when they’re hyped up on D&D and sugar!”

I laugh.”I’m sure I’ll have to at some point. That is, if I can keep this as a regular babysitting job.” I toss the robes into a basket setting on the couch. “I assume I’ll be seeing you around here as well. Seems like you’re....” I avoid calling Steve a ‘mom’ to his face, “close with them. I suppose I’ll have to learn from you on how to gain their respect.”

Steve laughs but he doesn’t get a chance to respond. “Stop flirting with the babysitter, Steve. If we’re out late again, we’re toast.” Dustin says, pushing the straps of his backpack over his shoulders. I instantly flush at the words and Steve knocks the kid’s hat down to obstruct his view.

“I’ll see you around, Y/n.” He calls, pushing Will, Dustin and Lucas out the door.

Shaking my head, I sigh lightly. Mike and I are left in the basement, standing in the quiet they left behind. My hand cups the back of my neck in an attempt to cool down the warmed skin there. “Thanks. For tonight, I mean. I guess you aren’t so bad.” Mike says, folding the table up.

I bite my lip to suppress my grin. Perhaps Hawkins won’t be too bad after all.

****

Masterlist Here

A/N: How do you guys feel about short(er) one shots compared to long series? I’ve been trying it out! Let me know what you think and what you prefer! Thank you for the support and feedback! - Ellie-Mae 

[winters-history]

Deaths Angel || Part One

Biker!Bucky x reader

Inspired by Ride with Me by @writemarvelousthings . Thank you for all the help and support you have given me in writing this story

Plot : when Y/N returns to New York from Los Angles with the troubling news of her fathers passing, she finds out more than she could’ve bargained for. Follow Y/N as she gusts down her best friends killers whilst navigating through gangs, romances and friendships.

Warnings : Mentions of Death, Hospices, loss of loved ones

Walking through the grey and plain corridor of my fathers haospice was harder to imagine. Last time I was here this place was full of his new friends and there family’s, all having as much fun as they could before the end.

I walk into my fathers room and I see it filled with our family photos and all he held dear to him. I place down the card board boxes I have in my hands and I start pulling his many books of off one of six large book cases he ha.. had built in this room.

I just keep moving the books from the bookcase into the boxes and soon I have emptied 3 bookcases and filled about 20 boxes.

“You don’t have to do this alone you know” I hear a voice say from behind me and I know who it is immediately

“Peter, if I don’t who is? I can ask May to do it and I refuse to make any of the nurses or doctors here do it, they have enough to do” I say turning to my little cousin on my mothers side

“At least take a break then, come for a walk down the street with me, I need a coffee” he says which I find extremely weird, considering he doesn’t drink coffee

“You don’t drink coffee” I say as a statement

“Then I’ll get a hot chocolate and you can have coffee” He says pulling me out of my dads old bedroom

“So what was it like in Los Angles?”Peter asks trying to make some sort of conversation

“It was .... different to say the least, but it wasn’t New York. This place has a calming feeling y’know?” I say to him and he nods

“Well I’ve missed you around here, me and Ned haven’t had anyone that can help us with our homework, especially English” He says and I laugh

“Your smart enough, I’m sure you can write and essay without my help” I say and he shakes his head

“My grade average in English had called to a C-“ he says and I look at him

“Great, tou relise this means we’re gonna have a long chat about true right use of grammar and punctuation” I say

“Ohhhh sounds fun” Peter says opening the door to the coffee shop for me

“So, hows May?” I ask peter

“She’s good, she’s actually been on a few dates with this guy, he seems to really like her, and with everything she went through with uncle Ben she really needs it” he says and I smile softly thinking about my aunt, who is more of a sister than anything

We walk up to the counter and order our drinks whilst making small talk about his school work.

Once we get our drink Peter convinces me to sit down and have a chat before we head back. As we are talking I zone out and think about my dad. How can he not be here anymore, I was talking to him two days ago when I told him I was flying home.

“N... Y/N. Hey you okay?” Peter asks gaining me attention

“Yeah sorry I was think bout stuff” I say and he gives me a sad smile

“Anyway, I want to know what’s happened around here, anything and everything” I say to Peter

“Well, not a lots happened that you don’t know about, me and MJ are still together, Ned is still completely in love with Betty and vice versa” he says and I smile remembering how I love he and MJ are, is so sweet.

“Tell me about this guy Aunt Mays dating” I say and he forms a small smile

“He’s really nice, everyone calls him happy cause he used to be the moodiest person ever until he met may, she’s so enamoured with him and he her. He cares Y/N, he really cares. She’s told him about you, he said he’d love to meet you one day” Peter says and I can tell by the way he’s talking about this Happy guy that he approves, which is all I need.

“We should be getting back Peter, I still need to finish packing up my dads room” I say and he nods and we walk out of the café.

As we are walking back he gets a phone call and I tune out to give him some privacy. I start thinking about everything and I can help but smile at everything Peters told me, it seems like May and Peter are doing okay and that’s what matters, no matter what I will always put those I know as family first, always.

As we get back to the hospice I see the truck I rented to move all of dads stuff into storage is still here thankfully but I also notice two black SUV’s outside and I wonder what it is, who it is.

“Y/N” I hear my name shouted and I turn around to see may jogging my way

“Aunt May!” I say hugging her

“You saying Aunt makes me feel old, were barely 8 years apart in age” she says making me laugh

“I want you to meet someone” she says to me and we turn back towards the hospice and I see my dads best friend, Nick, and a guy in a suit, who I presume must be happy.

“ Y/N this is Happy, Happy this is Y/N” May says and I go to shake the mans hand

“It’s so nice to meet you, Peters told me a lot” I say to him

“They never stop mentioning you” He says making me laugh

“Let me tell you, you ever hurt her and I swear to god, you’ll wish all you had to deal with was Peter and Nick, cause I will ruin your life you got it” I say turning serious

“I don’t plan on ever hurting her” he say and I nod

“Y/N!” May shouts making me laugh and then I turn to Nick and hug him

“Hey swan” He says the old nickname and I laugh

“How you doing old man?” I say back to him and he laughs louder

“I’m good, how are you” He says

“I’m coping” he says nodding

“What are you guys doing here anyway?” I say and I see Peter look away

“We where finishing packing up your dads room” May say

“I was gonna do it you didn’t have to” I say to them

“We wanted to, me and happy are going to take all the stuff to storage, nicks going to drive you to your new apartment, no objections. He’s got some stuff that we thought you’d want” May says to me giving me a stern look and I nod, knowing there’s no fighting her

“Let’s go” Nick says to me as we walk back to the car, I get in the passenger seat whilst Peter gets in the back.

———————————————————————

As we arrive at my new apartment building I get out of the car and grab one of the three boxes in the back, leaving one for Nick and one for Peter.

We walk inside and get in the elevator going up to my floor. As we are heading up I think about the last time I talked to my dad. He told me he had to tell me something and that we’d meet up when I got of my plane. Instead of getting a call from him Of where we should meet, I got a call from his nurse, Peggy, who told me he had passed in the night.

Once we arrive on my floor we walk to my apartment and I open the door and walk to the living room, I place the box down and take my jacket off.

“Nice Place Y/N.” Peter day putting his box down

“Thanks Pete, I’m going to get changed and then maybe we can head to the den?” I ask and Peter nods

“I can’t tonight kid, but you have your car here right?” Nick says and I smile and nod

“Yeah old man I have my new age car here, guess what, it can go more than 50 mph as well, what a time we live in!” I saysarcastically making him laugh

“Okay kid, I gotta go, I’ve missed you around here you know” he says giving me a goodbye hug.

“Bye nick” I say as he goes to the door

“Bye Kid” He says

“Let me get changed and we’ll head down to the Den, yeah?” I ask peter

“Sure, I’m going to raid your fridge first though” he says and I laugh

I walk into my bedroom and. Walk to my closet, opening it and grabbing what I think will be good to wear, keeping the outfit as dark as possible

As I walk back into the living room I see Peter sitting there eating a bag of chips.

“Ready to go?” I ask and he looks up at me

“If we weren’t related ...” he says and I smack him in the back of the head

“What was that for?” He shouts

“Never talk about a woman like that, your lucky I don’t tell MJ.... yet” I say leaving the apartment with him in a tow, and locking the door. We get in the elevator and go down to the parking lot level and walk towards my car.

“Y/N is that a 1969 Ford Mustang Boss 302?” Peter asks and I am surprised, never knowing he was into cars

“Uhh yea, a friend gave it to me” I say getting in

“good friend” Peter says as we take to for the Den and within 10 minutes we’re parked in front.

As we walk in I notice some familiar faces and say high to them on the way by before meeting May at the Bar.

“Damn girl, look at you!” She shouts making me do a twirl

“Why thank ya” I saw with a slight southern drawl

“ what you doing here anyway?” May asks

“I thought I’d come in and help, I had nothing to do anyway” I say and she smiles

“Perfect timing cause my bartender just called and she can’t make it and I don’t want to call Wanda in cause it’s her night off, she might be here but I want her to spend time on the other side of the bar” May says and I laugh

I walk behind the bar and take my leather jacket and scarf of before putting my hair up, and for some reason I can’t help but shake the feeling that someone’s watching me.

I start my shift and it’s pretty easy till Peter tries to sneak past me and I look to where he’s looking and I see a group of peopl watching him , so I pretend I don’t notice him going into the storage room, and I grab my phone sending him a text.

I hope you know your not that sneaky, Parker.

I laugh when he comes out trying to act natural with a bottle of whiskey, I notice it’s not a really expensive bottle so I let him take it, knowing t that he wouldn’t dare drink in Mays bar.

I watch him walk to his friends and one of them scruffles his hair and says something to him, and that’s when I see May walking up behind the man holding the bottle but before she does anything I make eye contact with her and mouth the words ‘let em have it’ and she nods

“You give it to them?” She asks when she get back to the bar

“Peter” I say and she looks at me

“Why’d you let em have it?” She asks

“Figured you knew them, there comfortable in here meaning they know you’d put up with them” I say and she laughs

“There regulars, I think you’d like them” she says walking into the kitchen to grab the food that a table was waiting on and when I looked up I made eye contact with one of them.

He had dark hair and the most beautiful blue eyes, and the nicest smile. Blue eyes that I could dream about all night

[kumkaniudaku]

Love Sick.

A/N: Throwback CoCo and Chadwick to distract all of us from the mess. Pure fluff. It’s almost too sweet. It’s a mix of @skysynclair19 ‘s singing request.

Word Count: 3,901

New Jersey (2003)

When you made the decision to relocate to the Northern region of the United States after receiving your Bachelor’s degree from Howard University, you were immediately warned about the brutal winters. Initially, you brushed off the cautionary tales. You’d survived four Washington, D.C. winters and it could drop to as low as 20 degrees in Lithonia. You considered yourself prepared when you packed a few cute leather jackets, hats and scarves for your extended visit. New Jersey and New York was not ready for the invasion of CoCo and Chadwick.

Your first winter up North was hell. 

You couldn’t recall a day when your nose wasn’t plugged with mucus and you weren’t hacking up a lung in your tiny apartment. Somehow, Chadwick remained in perfect health and would often tease you on the phone when he heard how stuffy you were.

“Maybe I can finally get some peace when I come over there since you can’t talk.”

When you emerged from the damp dungeon of perpetual sickness, you vowed to properly prepare yourself. Saving your money and soliciting help from your parents, you purchased the appropriate attire and household items to survive Northern living. So, when Winter 2003 rolled around, you traded in your light jackets for full blown coats and gloves. Your bathroom cabinet was stocked with medicine just in case you got the sniffles, your flu shot was up to date and Granny’s chicken soup recipe was tucked safely into the spiral bound family cookbook you put together during your last trip home.

Chadwick, on the other hand, refused to prepare. He was determined to prove that the flu shot only made you sick and was a way for the government to target poor people of color in inner cities.

“Why would I let them inject me with the flu? CoCo, be smart. This is genocide.”

So it didn’t surprise you to hear his stuffed and raspy voice begging you to allow him to stay with you over the weekend to hold on to tradition. Every other weekend, he would commute to your neck of the woods and sleep on your couch Friday-Sunday, to spend time with you. When he wasn’t sprawled across the black microfiber sofa, you were taking his bed in New York while he made space on the floor.

“Aaron, you can’t come over here! You’re gonna get me sick too.”

“Then we can be sick together. Please, let me come. Who’s gonna take care of me like you?”

That’s all it took for you to wash the spare comforter you had in the closet and prepare the living room for your guest. Three lazy knocks on the door and a chesty cough gave away your visitor’s location, stopping your cleaning and sending you to invite him in.

“Got damn. Boy, are you okay?” The words you had planned were replaced when you opened the door and got a good look at him. His usually excited eyes were tired and red from a lack of sleep. His shoulders sagged under the weight of his coat and he shook lightly while leaning against the door frame.

“It’s nice to see you, pain in the ass. Can I come in?”

You stepped aside, pulling the duffle bag from his hand and placing it behind the door once you kicked it closed. He immediately began to peel off his layers, leaving him a t-shirt, sweatpants and a pair of tube socks.

After pouring a cup of orange juice and handing it to him, you sat on the coffee table to get a better look at his face.

“How do you feel?”

“Like you need to turn the air off. I’m freezing!”

“Chadwick...the heat is on.” You corrected, motioning to the thermostat that was on a warm 78 degrees. “Lean forward.”

Following your instructions, he leaned forward into your hands as you felt around his face to gauge his temperature. As you suspected, he face and neck were burning up, cluing you in to his medical condition. His dramatic ass had the flu.

“What is it? Am I going to have to go the hospital, CoCo?” He questioned, following your every move as you stood up and walked down the short hallway to your room. He was hot on your heels, bombarding you with questions. “Please, don’t make me take anything. Just let me sweat it out on the couch. I promise I’ll be quiet.”

“Get your ass off my bed, boy. Take those clothes off.” You instructed with your back turned to him while looking through your toiletry stash.

His ears perked up at your request, feeling a rush going below the waistband of his pants. Had the day he’d been dreaming of finally showed up? He would’ve gotten sick years ago if that’s all it took to get you to straddle his lap and make the face he imagined you’d make.

When you turned to look at him, he was down to his underwear, preparing to pull the sheets on what he assumed was the side you didn’t sleep on back.

“Nigga, why are you doing that?”

“I thought-” Your curious look instantly made his face heat up at the misunderstanding.

“Take this soap and go take a shower. I’ll have some clothes in here for you when you’re done. Your towel and washcloths are in their normal spots. There’s some lotion in there too because…” Your voice trailed as you motioned toward his bare legs.

“Why do I keep letting you talk to me like this?” He mumbled, pulling the unopened package of Dove soap from your hands and heading to the bathroom down the hall.

“Because I’m the only person crazy enough to still be friends with you after all this time.”

“No, it’s because I like to eat and you keep feeding me. You put something in your spaghetti. I can’t believe you trapped me like that.”

“You’re stuck with me forever, Boseman!” You laughed as he rolled his eyes and shut the door to the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes and several R&B songs later, he was emerging from your bedroom in a new set of clothes, fresh from a quick cycle in the dryer to warm them up a little. Once he lazily made his way to the couch, he was greeted with a hefty dosage of Theraflu, Vick’s Vapor rub for his chest and a cup of hot tea.

“CoCooooo!”

“No, you won’t ‘CoCo’ me! Come over here and sit down.” Reluctantly, he drug his lean body to the couch, flopping down dramatically and slightly turning his head away from you. “Aww, the baby doesn’t want to take his medicine.”

Your mocking did little to deter him as he rolled his eyes and continued to sulk.

“I am a man.”

“You acting like a boy. Let me at least take your temperature. We might not need all of this.”

He looked at you from the corner of his eye to determine your level of sincerity. Batting your eyelashes, you returned his glare with your most charming smile and a rub of his knee. Finally, he caved in, taking the time to stretch across the couch and wait for you to work your magic.

Your squeal of approval was met by an annoyed look before he parted his lips slightly to allow you to insert the thermometer. You both eyed the digital display, anxiously awaiting the results. A quick series of beeps preceded the eventual reading: a temperature of 103 degrees. He groaned loudly, knowing that he would have to listen to whatever you said.

“Oh hell no! Sit up and take this medicine.”

“But, CoCo!”

“Don’t make me say it again! C’mon now.” The southern black woman hopped out of you, thickening your accent and forcing your hand to your hip. It only took a stern look for Chadwick to sit up and hold the medicine cup to his lips, gagging at the taste of the liquid coating his mouth. A cough followed, prompting you to hold the tea mug to his mouth for him to take a sip and calm down. “Are you feeling sleepy?”

“Yes, mother.”

Rolling your eyes, you directed him to lay down so that you could prepare him for bed. He watched you with a faint smile while you spread the blanket over him and placed the remote to the television nearby.

“Okay, last thing and I’ll leave you alone for the night. Lift up your shirt.”

You carefully scooped a liberal about of vapor rub out of its container to smooth it against your palms. Your soft hands took their time, rubbing the product against the center of his chest, feeling the way he heart seemed to speed up to unsafe levels.

“Calm down, Aaron. Relax. You can’t get better until you rest a little.”

Your eyes flickered to his that were transfixed on your fingers and the way they danced across his chest. He knew the act was innocent but he couldn’t help but think about having this moment for the rest of his life. He’d been with plenty of women, but none like you.

He’d said I love you, sometimes without meaning it, but he never felt this type of love. The kind of love that showed him a wife and a couple of kids clinging to his legs when he came home. The kind of love that made him want to tuck you away in his apartment while he worked his ass off to provide for you. The kind of love that made him want to pull you onto his body and show you just how deeply he felt for you. He was in love and he didn’t know how much longer he could be around you and pretend he only wanted to be your friend.

“All done, jackass. Drink the tea before it cools down to clear up some of that congestion. Come knock on my door if you start to cough again. You should be asleep soon.”

“You’re not gonna stay with me?” He questioned, latching onto your hand. “How will know when I need more medicine?”

“Because you’ll come find me like you do when you need anything else. Good night, boy.” You swiftly pulled your hand from his before shutting off the light and retreating to your bedroom.

Stevie Wonder could see the sexual tension between you two but, you’d long convinced yourself that he wasn’t interested and any indication otherwise was a genuine slip up on his part. Peeling your body from your door, you trudged to your bed to try and sleep through the constant coughing and sneezing of the man you loved.

Sleep didn’t come easy for either one of you but, when it did, you weren’t happy to be startled awake. Looking at the digital clock on your nightstand, 3:53 AM transitioned in 3:54 as another round of knocking commenced.

“What the hell?” You asked, snatching the door open and finding Chadwick drowsily standing in the doorway. “What do you want? Do you know what time it is?”

“I can’t breathe, CoCo. Can I come in here with you so you can make sure I stay alive?”

‘What? No! Let me give you some more Theraflu and then you can go back.”

“Pleaseeeee?” He begged. “I already took some before I came in here and did the Vicks thing. Please, just let me sleep next to you. You don’t want me to die on your couch, do you?”

A sleepy stare off commenced between his dropping eyes and your tired orbs. Sighing, you stepped out of his way to allow him to enter the room, closing and locking the door after him. Like a child, he excitedly moved to the other side of the bed, throwing back the sheets like he’d done earlier and making himself comfortable.

You took your original spot, laying on your back to watch the ceiling fan spin in circles. Not only was going back to sleep in timely manner impossible, you were afraid that closing your eyes would restart the sexy dream that you were enthralled in, conveniently starring the beautiful man beside you. He wasted no time taking your position as an opportunity to throw his upper body on top of yours, positioning himself on his stomach so that he could lay on your clothed chest.

“The big baby likes to cuddle I see.” You teased.

“Yeah, whatever. Nobody is cuddling yo ass. Your pillows are too soft and I need to prop my head up. All this room you got on your chest, you should be thankful there’s finally some weight on it.”

You kissed your teeth and pushed his head in an attempt to get him off of you. He held on tight until you gave up, preferring to play with his ears to keep your mind occupied. He hummed at the sensation, closing his eyes and listening to your steady heartbeat.

“Don’t fall asleep, negro! I’m already hot with you on me like this. Go to your side!”

“Get over it.” He answered in a deep and slurred grumble, using his arms to anchor your waist to his body and prevent you from moving.

Just as he was content with having your fingertips trace patterns behind his ear, you liked knowing that he was comfortable and sleeping peacefully. Oddly, his body rhythmically breathing against yours and light snores coming from his stuffed nose lulled you to sleep soon after.

                                   _____________

“I’m checking for you, boy, you’re right on time. Angel of mine.” Your voice meshed with Monica’s as the radio sitting on the kitchen counter played her album. Your soprano was the perfect match to her chorus while you danced around the kitchen, dropping ingredients into the pot of chicken broth bubbling on the stove. “Last night, the way you moved is still on my mind. Angel of mind.”

Somehow, you were able to escape the hostage situation Chadwick had you in to tip toe into the kitchen and get breakfast started. You knew he’d be upset that he had to eat soup while you enjoyed pancakes but he’d get over it once he tasted it. Your singing drowned out the bedroom door creaking open and Chadwick stepping out to find you.

He stopped at the end of the hallway to silently observe you twirling around the cramped space, pulling spices from the cabinet like a Southern Disney princess. He’d seen you do it plenty of times before, but never while singing. He’d actually never heard you sing, the way you echoed Monica’s rifts and run making him smile. He wanted to keep listening, but his coughing betrayed him and pulled you from your trance.

“Don’t stop.” He coaxed, taking a seat on one of the wooden stools at the counter. “You sound good.”

“Yeah, right. Your ears are clogged. You hearing funny.”

“I’d be the first one to come in here and tell you to stop if you couldn’t sing. Keep going. The song’s almost over.”

Nervously, you looked between the radio and Chadwick before shaking your head and returning your focus to the stove. “I’ll pass on that one. How do you feel?”

Though he wanted to, he decided not press the issue. “Fucking terrible. My throat is sore, my body hurts, I’m hot and then cold and I keep coughing.”

“Then let’s try and get you feeling better. Taste this.” Instructing him to open his mouth, he allowed you to feed him a bit of soup. “How’s that?”

“Amazing. I wish I had an appetite.” He frowned.

“Chadwick Aaron Boseman with no appetite! You really are sick.” Turning off the stove, you made a beeline for the living room to grab the medicines that were still in their spots from last night. “It’s time to go full force with this. Here’s more Theraful, I’m gonna grab my peppermint oil and rub that on you and you need to get some socks on your feet.”

He stared at you while you pulled him to a standing position and led him to the couch. “Can’t we just go back and lay down. I just wanna go to sleep.”

“No, no, no. I’m responsible for getting you better and that’s what we’re gonna do. Mrs. Carolyn would kill me if she found out I was just letting you sleep it off.” The heaviness and heat of the comforter being thrown over him was a welcomed feeling that he didn’t want to admit to.

Just as quick as you’d left, you were back with a small bottle of peppermint oil and rubbing it on his neck, chest and soles of his feet before sliding socks onto them. When you returned with a glass of orange juice and a bowl of soup, he was drifting into sleep.

“C’mon, Aaron, you need to eat.” You announced, squatting in front of him and handing him the bowl. He was back to putting on a show, feebly reaching out to grab the spoon and shaking his hand to send droplets of the hot liquid sputtering around the rim of the bowl.

“You gotta feed it to me, CoCo. I-I...I’m too weak.”

“You full of shit, that’s what you are.”

He smiled at your joke, knowing that you would give up and feed him. Staying true to form, you continuously lifted the spoon to his mouth, feeding him he steaming contents of the bowl until there was no more.

Soon, he was back to sleep again, head pressed against the flannel pajama pants covering your thighs and mouth ajar to regulate his breathing. In short intervals you were able to go shower and clean the kitchen until he noticed your absence or requested your presence. A final check of his temperature indicated that his fever was finally gone and his appetite was beginning to pick up.

Still, he insisted on acting like a child.

“CoCo,” he croaked, wrapping the blanket around his entire body like ET in the bicycle basket. “Can you come warm me up?”

“No.” Your answer was flat as you continued to ignore him, using a ladle to put soup into tupperware for him to take home later.

“But, I’m so cold. I need you!”

You looked across to the room to find him exaggeratedly shaking his body in a comical shiver. “Aaron, stop.”

“Brrrrrr! Don’t let me freeze.” The DVD version of ‘Blue Streak’ played in the background as he continued his antics. “C’mon! Watch the movie with me. Your favorite part is coming. I can see your goosebumps from here.”

“If I do it, will you shut up?”

He made a zipping motion across his mouth before opening one side of the comforter to invite you in. You indulged him, sliding into the spot beside him and allowing him to close the blanket and trap you by his side.

Blue Streak turned into Training Day and a new sitting position, his back pressed against your stomach while he watch Denzel intently and let you play in his hair. Not paying attention to the 500th viewing of the movie, you quietly hummed Floetry’s ‘Say Yes’ to pass the time.

“You know, you should just sing to me if you’re gonna hum.” You looked down to find him already looking at you expectantly. He wasn’t going to let up this time.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and continued to nervously play with his hair.

“There is only one for me. You have made that a possibility. We can take that step to see if this is really gonna be. All you gotta do is say yes, don’t deny what you feel, let me undress you babe. Open up your mind and just rest, I’m about to let you know, you make me so, so, so, so, so,so, so, so....”

Your singing stopped as you slowly opened your eyes to see his toothy grin looking back at you. “Eh, I’ve heard better.”

“Oh, shut up!” You laughed, pushing his head. “I told you I’m not that good.”

“You sound amazing, CoCo. I’m just being an asshole.”

“What else is new?”

A short shared laugh preceded silence as the movie filled in the gaps for a long stretch.

“How do you know if you’re in love?” He asked, not bothering to look at you.

“I don’t know. My mama says that you just know. Nobody has to tell you. You feel it more than you feel anything else.” A hesitant pause didn’t stop your next question. “Are you in love?”

He thought for a moment before answering. “I think so. I’m feeling something.”

“Don’t rush it. God don’t make no mistakes. If you and whoever it is are supposed to be together, let it happen naturally.”

Accepting your words, he allowed the conversation to end. A forced round of TheraFlu sent him back into a medicine induced coma but not before he was pinning you to the couch under the weight of his body while he slept. You smiled at the image of the overgrown child needing to be held in order to fall asleep. You didn’t know if was the illness or delusions from the medicine but, you enjoyed being there for him and silently prayed that you’d be able to do this for the rest of your life. Unfortunately, whoever he was in love with would get to enjoy these moments after he was nursed to health and back in New York.

                                 ______________

The morning sun peeked through the blinds of the living room sooner than you hoped for, ending the semi-girlfriend charade. Breakfast was eerily silent as was most of the early afternoon. Both of you seemed to be lost in thought until Chadwick announced that he needed to start his journey back home to finish up the work he had to put aside.

Standing at the door, he adjusted his coat and scarf with your help.

“Keep taking the medicine and don’t be afraid to stay home an extra day if you still feel a little weak. Your health is more important than that job.”

“Yes ma’am. Anything else, wife?” He joked, grabbing his bag from your hands. You ignored the butterflies in your stomach and rolled your eyes.

“Eat the soup and drink some green tea NOT sweet tea. Call me if you need anything.”

“Will do. I’ll call you when I get settled.”

You nodded in agreement, reaching around him to open the door. He made it into the hallway before turning to look at you. “See you next week?”

“Of course.” Shy smiles were exchanged, prolonging the good-bye. “I hope she loves you back. Send me an invite to the wedding?”

Shaking his head, he chuckled to himself, confusing you. “You won’t be needing one, CoCo! You’ll already be there.”

“As part of the wedding party? Can I wear suit too?”

Your excitement made him smile as he turned on his heels to start his trek down the hallway. He made sure that his voice traveled behind him to answer your question. 

“Whatever you want, girl! Whatever you want.”

__________

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