#Spot jogging for toning

[ghost-with-a-teacup]

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader

Summary: Everyone at HQ was convinced there was something going on between you and Miguel. Just...no one knew what. But one group of spiders were determined to figure it out.

Warnings: None! Just a lot of goofiness and a whole lot of fluff :3

When you have a superhuman with superior senses, they’re bound to be perceptive to their surroundings. Now when you have an entire lobby the size of multiple football fields filled with superhumans with superior senses, very few things will go unnoticed.

It’s why people very quickly realize that you and Miguel have…something between the two of you. It’s just that no one is quite sure what.

Camaraderie? Maybe, you were one of the first spiders to join the society.

Friendship? Perhaps, but it was known that Miguel wasn’t one to do friends. Not with the amount of loss he has gone through.

A relationship? This one seemed the most unplausible. Miguel was, well, Miguel. Stoick, cold and calculating. Meanwhile, you were you.

You had a light that drew people in, kindness that knew no bounds and warmth like a fire on a cold winter’s day.

Everyone knew the saying ‘opposites attract’, but it was like comparing night and day with the two of you. Regardless, a small little group within the society were set on trying to figure the two of you out.

~

“Ain’t no way the two are together, she’s too good for him!” Hobie argues, his legs kicked up on the table in front of him.

“I don’t know, maybe that’s why they work together. Because she makes him better?” Miles says, but his tone of voice failed to hide his skepticism.

“I think you should just leave the two of them be. Besides, what happens if you figure it out or not anyway?” Peter says, feeding Mayday as he does. Immediately a chorus of arguments breaks out from the group.

“OKAY! Okay, forget I asked,” he says with a shake of his head, while Mayday just laughs at the commotion.

They spot the two of you walking into the cafeteria making conversation none of them could make out.

“Look at them,” Gwen says, “have you ever seen the guy happier than he is with her?” she asks, and Hobie snorts.

“C’mon mate, you call that happy? Mans got that frown tattooed on his face, can he even be happy?” he says, but they all continue watching intently.

You glance over to the table they were surrounding, and they all brush off your gaze pretending as though they weren’t just studying the two of you like specimens under a microscope.

You wave your hand, a bright smile on your face while Miguel only glances over for a moment before continuing to walk. You jog to catch up to him, grabbing a tray and picking up things you wanted for lunch.

They watch as they see Miguel pick up the empanada, the last one left. He pauses for a split second, holding it before turning to place it on your tray. Almost as though they were straight out of a cartoon, they freeze at the interaction.

You seem to be slightly surprised as you, saying something to him but he only brushes you off before continuing on.

“Did…that just happen?” Pavitr asks. Everyone at HQ was aware of Miguel’s fondness for the food (even if he did hurl one right at Miles when they first met), there was no way he would give one away so easily for just anyone, right?

“Somebody pinch me,” Gwen says, and Hobie jumps at the request.

“OW!”

~

Miguel never lets anyone help him out when he’s injured. That was just a known fact. He could walk into HQ battered and bruised and wouldn’t even look in the infirmary’s direction once. After depending on himself for so long, he wasn’t going to stop now. Besides, what were First Aid kits for after all?

The only way he was going to the infirmary was if someone dragged his unconscious body there themselves.

Well, unless you were there.

“Miguel O’Hara I swear to god, you better get your ass to the infirmary or so help me I will tie you up and drag you through the halls myself,” you say sternly as you both reemerge in the Lobby. The rest of the Spiders there continued with what they were doing, but their attention was zeroed in on you both.

“I’m fine,” he says, glaring at you as if trying to say ‘Just try’. Had you been anyone else, you would have backed down by now but you didn’t.

“You wanna test me right now? That was a nasty hit, I will not be letting it get infected under my watch,” you retort, and he puffs.

“This is nothing, I’ve dealt with worse,” he scoffs, and in an instant your finger shoots out, making contact with the side that got hit with the anomaly’s flames. Miguel can’t help the sharp intake of breath as the pain from the impact hits him.

Your eyebrow raises, an expression of disbelief on your face before it softens. Murmuring softly, you say something that only he can hear.

For a moment he studies your face before sighing, finally relenting. With a triumphant smile, you place a hand on the man’s broad back, leading him towards the infirmary with a gentle but firm hand.

There, Pavitr is laying in bed recovering from an awry mission of his own. The doctors had ordered bedrest for the next 2 hours at least. Superior healing or not, they were not going to risk it. So there he lay, slinging his golden bangles up and down bored before he hears the two of you come in.

“Mr. O’Hara-" a doctor’s voice can be heard, but he is quickly interrupted.

“She’s got it from here,” he says, Miguel’s tone final. A small “yes, sir” can be heard before footsteps fade away, the doctor’s office door closing once more.

“You know, you should really let the professionals help you,” your voice can be heard.

“You dragged me here, you can deal with the consequences,” he says, and you just laugh fondly before your voices quieten, murmuring too quietly for Pavitr to hear.

Curiosity builds as he recalls the conversation he and his friends had, and before he can stop himself he shifts silently to the side, just enough to be able to catch a glimpse of you both from the small gap between the hospital curtain and the wall.

There, Miguel sat on the bed, a disgruntled expression on his face but his eyes were soft as he watched you fuss over his side.

He only watches for a few seconds before pulling away, this being a clear invasion of privacy, and his boss’ privacy no less.

It wasn’t going to stop him from telling everyone else though.

~

“This is a bad idea. This is a really, really bad idea,” Miles says, grasping onto the ceiling like his life depended on it.

“It’s only a bad idea if we get caught, so Shut. Up,” Gwen says sharply, hanging from her place on the ceiling as they watched the fight from above.

Gwen had come up with the mighty fine idea of sneaking into a mission between the two of you. It wasn’t often that it happened, Miguel more often than not only went on missions with only Lyla by his side. But when he needed a partner, it was always you.

“Why did you have to bring me with you,” he whispers, “Miguel already doesn’t like me. He doesn’t need more of a reason to.”

“Because I needed backup and you can turn invisible. And let’s be real, Hobie would be laughing his ass off getting us caught, Peter would bring Mayday which would get us caught, and Pavitr is already on a mission, now shhh,” she whispers, turning back to watching the scene below.

You swung from pillar to pillar in the abandoned factory with practiced ease, a carefree laugh escaping your lips as Miguel stands on the ground fiddling with his watch.

“The anomaly’s last known location was here,” Lyla’s voice echoes out, and you let out a sigh.

“Why can’t villains have easy powers. Maybe a giant blob that is easy to take down? Why do they have to be so complicated? What’s this one again, a freaky shadow monster?” you think out loud.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Miguel retorts, glancing up toward you for a moment before turning back to Lyla. “Do a scan of the place, will you?”

“What do we say~” Lyla responds, and you giggle softly while Miguel huffs.

“Please,” he mutters.

“What was that?”

“Please, Lyla,” he says a little louder now, irritation growing in his voice.

“Already done,” the AI snickers, and he groans out loud as your laughter bounces off of the walls, a fist held out for Lyla to bump.

“The two of you will be the death of me,” he says lowly.

“Oh, don’t be like that, grumps. You’d be too stubborn to die,” you retort before tensing up, the hairs on the back of your neck rising with the familiar feeling of your heightened senses at work. The moment you sling yourself up is the moment a loud thud sounds out from where you once stood.

“Oh, I forgot to mention that the anomaly was in the far right corner,” Lyla says before disappearing.

“I really need to do a rewrite of her code,” Miguel mutters to himself.

In your previous spot emerges a dark figure, plumes of smoke emerging and dissipating from its form and allowing it to disappear into the shadows with ease.

With a simple nod, you get to work. Like a well-oiled machine, you work in practiced synchrony, bounding across the walls and slinging webs.

And just like that the anomaly is captured, the force field around it effectively trapping it for the ride back to HQ so it can be sent back to its own universe.

“That was…kinda lame,” you snicker, pulling off your mask

“Told you so,” Miguel says as he opens up a portal for you both, dragging the anomaly behind him.

“Don’t say that to me,” you pout.

“What, can’t handle the truth?” he retorts, a smirk playing across his lips as your bickering voices fade through the portal.

“…was that a smile,” Gwen asks as she watches the spot where they both had stood.

“Was that what it was?” Miles asks, a shudder racking through his body.

~

It was late at night at the HQ, and at this time everyone else had already gone back to their own universes. The few that lingered were the ones finishing up after a late-night mission.

Or, you were Peter B. Parker frantically searching through the kitchen for a bottle of milk for Mayday after a playdate with a select few spiders that went on for way longer than expected.

Mayday was an easy baby. Always happy and smiling, but that all disappears when she was hungry and you did not want a spider baby on a rampage.

“Alright, alright, give Daddy a few seconds to warm up your milk please?” Peter pleads as Mayday continues to babble angrily, crawling all over him.

She pauses for a moment, attention drawn elsewhere as she hangs off of her father’s back before leaping.

“Hey, lil spider!” You say with a laugh, catching her in your arms. “What are you doing here so late?” you ask.

“Playdate with Miles, Gwen and Hobie. Time really flew and she refused to leave until now,” Peter sighs tiredly, and you pat him on the back before putting her up onto your shoulders. “What are you doing here so late?”

You shrug, grabbing two mugs from the cupboard.

“Working late. Like you said, time really flew,” you say, but Peter knew that wasn’t the full truth.

“Working so hard that you need two cups of coffee?” he asks, holding out the bottle for Mayday to take, which is what she does happily as she snuggles up in her father’s arms.

“What can I say, caffeine doesn’t really work on me,” you grin, pouring the coffee from the machine. “Goodnight, Peter, Mayday,” you say, ruffling her red hair fondly.

And as quickly as you appeared, you disappear.

~

People didn’t often disturb the big boss man Miguel when he was working. Not if you wanted to stay on his good side.

It was even less often that someone barges into his room full of screens as he monitors the Archno-Humanoid Polymultiverse, let alone a group of them.

“We heard you talking to someone! And laughing,” Gwen says hesitantly as if she couldn’t even believe it herself. But she was invested in figuring out what the deal was between the two of you now.

“Well, do you see anyone around?” Miguel deadpans, his arms wide and gesturing around broadly. You could barely stifle the giggle as you sat on a beam high up on the ceiling, going unnoticed.

“W-well, no…But!” she says, and Miguel raises an eyebrow which makes Gwen shrink in her spot slightly before recovering. “But we heard you. There was someone here, wasn’t there?”

Hobie, ever the perceptive one tracks his eyes along the ceiling before spotting you swinging your legs with an amused look on your face. It seemed as though no one else had noticed though.

Miguel watches Hobie spot you and his eyes narrow in his direction, as if saying ‘I dare you to say anything’ to which the spider only raises his hands in mock surrender.

“No. There wasn't." He says, his tone final. "If that’s all you’re here for, I have important work to get to. So why don’t you go bother someone else, yeah?”

~

“I give up,” Gwen says, slumping in her chair. “We’re never going to figure it out.”

“Figure what out?” Jess asks, walking up to the group.

“Whether or not there is something going on between those two,” Miles says, nodding towards you and Miguel talking over in the corner of the room.

Jessica only hums, a knowing look in her eyes but she doesn’t say anything. Only asks a simple question.

“What makes you think so?”

“Everyone here knows that there’s something there, even if they want to admit it or not. She’s one of the few people he tolerates, they’re together almost all the time and he actually seems happy around her,” Gwen reasons.

“You could have just asked, you know,” you say, coming up on their conversation with an amused look on your face.

Their expressions range from flustered to simply amused and you can’t help the laughter that bubbles up as you make eye contact with Jess.

“And to answer the question,” you reach down your suit, pulling out a simple chain with a ring dangling off of the end.

“We’re actually married.”

The group goes silent for a moment, eyes wide as they stare at the necklace in your hands, trying to process your words.

Then, all hell breaks loose.

A/N: Hehe, I'm quite happy with this one :3 This is my first attempt at writing Miguel, sorry if I butchered him but I am absolutely hyperfixating on him after seeing ATSV in theatres yesterday.

Based on the prompt by @imslightlycreative though slightly changed :)) I hope you all enjoyed <3

Part two out now!! Read it here.

[pseudowho]

Nanami Kento was not a father; not strictly speaking. Not technically speaking. Not metaphorically speaking. The absence of paternity, however, did nothing to eschew him of the shackles he wore with pride, wearing them as a mantle; a medal of honour.

For one with such a black hole in his life, Itadori Yuuji would not notice Kento's absence unless something took Kento away from him, so natural was it that the void was filled.

Nanami Kento's priorities altered so dramatically, with such quiet consideration, that he had no real words to explain his situation to you when he first took you out for dinner. Or, when he took you out to the beach. Or, when you took him to that art gallery. Or, when you came over to his, tumbling through the door into stumbling kisses, all hands and groans and desperation.

For Nanami Kento was not a father. He ensured that his relationship with Yuuji did not overlap with his relationship with you, fearful that you would reject the burden of not-parenthood.

Kento was so introspective in his attempts to hide his not-parenthood, that he failed to see how blatantly-fucking-obvious he was. As if you wouldn't notice that dinner was always made for three, with a portion put aside or frozen for a hungry visitor. As if you wouldn't notice that Kento browsed the teenage boy sections in clothes stores, making note of what he would come back for later. As if you had not seen Kento listed as "I.C.E." on Yuuji's phone screen at school one day.

As if you were not a mother. As if you were not fully prepared to be.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Kento was stalking through the belly of the beast when he spotted two missed calls; one from Yuuji, and one from Shoko. His heart leapt into his mouth, his blade hanging dumbly by his side as he cursed internally at his lack of signal. Torn by conflicting responsibilities, he focused on the task at hand, but as a noticeably sloppier Sorcerer when worry gnawed at the bones of him.

An hour later, finally free, he jogged to his car, panting. He slipped into his seat, and called Yuuji-- no answer. He called Shoko-- no answer. He swore again, hurrying to start the car...and his phone buzzed.

He looked at the screen, and opened a message from you. He sat, staring at it, a cold trickle of worry down his spine. A photo; of Yuuji's characteristic shoes, beside your own, with the caption:

Picked up a wounded stray. He looks hungry. We'll be at yours soon!

Kento churned through emotions, trying to read your tone on the screen. Angry? Cheerful? Exasperated? Would you want to talk about his deceit later? Technically he hadn't lied. Or, he had. A lie by omission perhaps? She's angry. She's disappointed at least. Is that worse? That's worse.

Kento stewed, the whole drive home.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Kento continued to stew, when he arrived home to an empty house. He paced, and sat, and paced, and sat. He cursed himself for not maintaining tighter boundaries between Nanami-Kento-the-Boyfriend and Nanami-Kento-the-Not-Father. So deep was he in his self-flagellation, he jolted to hear the door open, and two familiar peals of laughter rolling through.

"--Ieiri-san told me I should have waited for Ino to arrive, but I just had to do something, y'know--"

"--not jump through a damn window, Yuuji, that's excessive--"

"--not stupid if it worked though--"

"--as your Not-Mother, I cannot condone this."

Kento stood, watching the scene unfold in wonder. You and Yuuji, bantering. You reaching for the grocery bags, and Yuuji insisting he carry them instead. You directing Yuuji to the bag with the snacks. Yuuji totally bypassing Kento, jogging past him to the kitchen.

As if this was his home. As if Kento was his home. As if you were his home.

Kento was still stunned into silence when you leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

"Hey! Sorry we're late. Yuuji was hurt on a mission, so I picked him up, but I wanted to get ice cream, and I noticed we didn't have enough in for dinner for three, and--"

Your words cut off with a muffled "mmf!" as Kento leaned down, pulling you in by the back of the neck, and small of your back, silencing you with a kiss which tasted of all the gratitude for which he had no words. By the time he'd released your lips, his forehead pressed to yours, you felt the air rush back to the vacuum he'd left behind.

"...Kento, are you oka--"

"I love you."

The air rushed straight back out of you, leaving you light and giddy. Your lips puckered, threatening tears, so long had you been wondering if he'd ever confess the depths of his feelings.

"...you love me?"

"I love you. I love you. I absolutely love you. And I'm sorry I didn't--..."

"...didn't think I'd be happy with you looking after a boy with no parents, who needs some?"

You let your question hang, so Kento could soak in how much of a fool he'd been. He sighed, tense and looking over at Yuuji rustling through grocery bags in the kitchen.

"...I didn't want to assume that you'd accept it."

"Would you choose someone like that, though?" Kento looked unsure, and you clarified. "I mean, would you choose someone who felt jealous of you looking after an orphaned child?"

Kento's gears turned. "...no."

You smiled up at him, cupping his cheek in your palm. "Exactly. So, like I was saying...I put fresh sheets in his room. I'll go and make dinner. Yuuji will pick a movie. And you should have a word with him about jumping through plate glass windows to get to a Curse faster."

At that, Kento's head snapped up, fixing Yuuji with a frown that had Yuuji dropping bags of snacks on the floor.

"Yuuji."

"Shit, I'm sorry Nanamin, I--"

"Language."

"Shit, I'm sorry Nanami-san, I--"

You headed to the kitchen, pulling on an apron and stifling laughter at the Not-Father and Not-Son bickering in your wake.

[maxlarens]

lando and 3💗💗

3) hiding face in neck

There’s a grin splitting its way across your face as you hustle through corridors and fight crowds across the paddock. You thought you’d be able to get away with watching the race in one of the fancy Miami VIP areas. You’d thought he’d do good but not this good— you shouldn’t have underestimated him.

P1. P1.

You should have started hustling to McLaren earlier in the race honestly, when he was leading and you had a sick feeling in your gut from the anticipation.

Whatever.

You’re sprinting like your life depends on it, flashing your lanyard and flagging down McLaren staff who recognise you so you can be let into areas that Lando or someone equally as important usually takes you through.

You’re waylaid just before you can hit the tarmac. Stopped by an obstinate security guard who you can’t really blame for just doing his job. You can see flashes of orange, bits of the car as you stand on your tiptoes to catch someone anyone’s eye.

“You have to let me through,” you say, “I am literally his best friend. He just won.” Then you’re seeing a Red Bull cap and you’re shouting, “MAX! Oi, Max!”

Max frowns, head turning in each direction until he finally spots you and the security guard who’s trying to hold you off. He rolls his eyes, then jogs over.

“You can let her through, mate,” he says, an exasperated edge to his tone that you will deal with later thank you very much, “She’s with Lando.”

You’re not with Lando, you want to bite back. Okay, technically in Max’s sense of the word you are.

Whatever.

The moment the security guard moves his arm you’re off like a shot, sparing only a second to pat Max’s arm in thanks. You take off onto the tarmac, out into the Miami sun. There’s the MCL38, there’s a sea of papaya behind a barricade, there’s Zak Brown and there’s Lando.

You thud into his side, almost knocking him into Zak as you throw your arms around his neck. Responding on instinct he catches you, one arm winding around your waist. You’re babbling as soon as you’ve got him in your grip— I’m so proud of you’s and I knew you could do it’s bubbling from your mouth as you try to stop from crying.

He’s laughing— giggling that shrill, joyful thing he does— as he twists around in your arms. He puts both arms around your waist, squeezes and lifts. And you don’t even care that he’s sweaty and smells bad, because he’s shoving his wet (from sweat, from tears) face into your neck and he’s hugging you like he doesn’t want to let go.

[kiemiu]

an average day w/ bf!matt <3 | ( fem!reader ) fluff + soft hours. established relationship drabble wc 1.6k (library) + (request) warnings -> one use of y/n

9:51am - a tattooed arm weighs heavy across your abdomen as you slowly adjust your eyes to the morning light shining through the curtains. careful stretches and quiet groans leave you as you twist in matt's grip. his arm only hooking around you significantly tighter at your movement. you lie still for a moment before turning towards him, his head remains buried deep into your neck. "matt, baby. cmon, time to get up." you whisper hoarsely, as you tap at his arm. he pretends to continue sleeping as you poke and prod at him to get up. he lowly groans in response before turning over to his side of the bed, his arm still hooked around your waist as he lazily flips you over his body to cradle you into his chest. "5 more minutes, please?" he tiredly grumbles before throwing his leg over you, swiftly pulling you as close as he possibly could. you only sigh in response before relaxing in his grip, knowing that you'd be there for another hour or so.

11:32am - sudden rapid knocks wake you up from your second wave of sleep. chris's voice being heard behind the door as he twisted at the locked door knob. "matt, come on, you said you'd take me to target today." his voice clearly laced with irritation as he banged his fist on the door, louder and louder. "oh my fucking god." matt grumbled his grip on you becoming tighter, cradling your head into his chest before he slightly lifted himself up to shout out "alright chris, i heard you! give me a fucking second." before plopping himself back to his original spot. there was silence on the other side of the door before chris responded "finally, you got 20 minutes!" his voice getting more and more faint as he walked down the hallway. you gently patted matt's chest in comfort before hoisting yourself up and heading to the bathroom. "taking a shower, baby?" he asked, his voice much softer this time. you only hummed in response, lingering by the door, knowing what he'd ask you next. "can i join?"

12:59pm - you slowly pushed the cart, one of matt's arm hooked around your waist as your eyes trailed over the selection of frozen treats. "baby, we already have enough ice cream at home." matt softly whined, his hand affectionately gripped your hip while his thumb gently massaged your clothed skin. "yeah, but you always eat it all. i want something for myself this time." you tease before your eyes land on what flavor you want. "that's—not true." he grumbled with a half-hearted eye roll, knowing you were right. "mmm, i think i'm gonna go with the classic cookie dough." you mutter to yourself before breaking away from him to reach in and grab a small tub of ice cream. just as soon as you set your treat in the cart, chris ran up with a wide smile. "dude, we have to get this! it's the last one on the shelf." he exclaimed excitedly while holding a batman themed lego set, nervously switching from one foot to the other as he waited for your approval to set it down in the cart. matt had a conflicted look on his face as one of his hands mindlessly played with the end of your jacket. just as matt was opening his mouth to say 'no', you interjected with a wide smile and a cheery "of course." making chris throw the set into the cart before jogging away to look at more things he didn't need. "he's gonna go bankrupt if you keep encouraging him." he reprimanded, no malice in his tone while he took over the job of pushing the cart as it started to get too heavy. "oh, shush. you wanted it just as bad."

2:46pm - matt's hand that rested on your thigh reached up to turn down the volume of his music. "sweetheart, can you look up something for us to eat? i'm getting hungry." he asked, his eyes focused on the road as he reached for his phone that rested on the arm rest and handed it to you. you hummed in response before scrolling through various food locations. "can we get red robin? their fries are so good and i'd kill for one of their burgers right now." you asked even as you already started to type in the address. "oh, that'd be so fucking good right now." chris chimed in from the back, his mouth full of potato chips. matt's face scrunched up in slight disgust at the sound of crunching coming from chris. "yeah, that's fine. chris, text nick and ask if he wants anything— and don't get any crumbs on my fucking seats. thanks." matt muttered before resting his hand back on your thigh.

3:33pm - you laid sprawled out on the couch after finishing your meal. a movie you hadn't really been paying attention to played on the tv as you cuddled closer to matt, his hand under your shirt and resting on your stomach. "sleepy?" he quietly asked, his lips resting on the side of your face before pressing gentle pecks across your skin. you only hummed in confirmation, a lazy nod following as you leaned into more of his kisses. "hm, go lay down. i'll clean up and come up in a sec." he dismissed, before gently patting your stomach. you stretched your arms out before walking back to his room, falling on his bed as soon as it was in reach. you could hear him faintly talking to his brother as you didn't close the door all the way. "me and y/n are gonna take a nap. if you need anything, don't ask." you heard matt say as the sound of his voice got closer. you didn't move when you heard the door close behind you, keeping your eyes closed even as you laid sprawled across his entire bed. matt set the multiple water bottles on his nightstand before laying on top of you, laughing at the strained groan you let out. "make room for me and mr. wrinkleton,"

7:22pm - you woke up to the sound of matt's pc turning on. your head lifting up to see him already looking at you with a timid expression. "sorry, baby. i was gonna stream a little with chris. didn't mean to wake you up." he explained apologetically. "its okay." you whispered, knowing you would've woken up sooner or later with the amount him and chris shouted. you stretched before making your way out of the room. "you're leaving?" you heard him ask as soon as you opened his bedroom door. "yeah, i wanna go hang with nick while you stream." you admitted, leaning against his door frame. "oh, okay...gimme a kiss before you go." he said, his head tilted back on his gaming chair, his lips pursed in the air as he waited for you to give him what he wanted. you rolled your eyes playfully before sauntering over to him, resting your hands on the side of his face and tilting his head up before slotting your lips against his. the kiss lingered on longer than you intended as the tip of his nose brushed against your cheek. "love you, pretty." he whispered, dazed as you broke away from the kiss, his eyes going back and forth from your lips and eyes. "i love you more." you replied with a smile before pressing a quick departing peck on his lips and closing the door behind you.

10:01pm - you and nick giggled uncontrollably while filming your 3rd tik tok together that would most likely go straight to his drafts. you rewatched it over and over again, clutching your stomachs and doubling over in laughter as you watched the two of you do stupid stunts. tears forming in your eyes as you both sat on the floor together thinking of the next video you'd film together. there was a soft knock on the door, halting your shenanigans. "what?" nick yelled out before the door opened. it was matt, and his eyes immediately landed on yours, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "you guys wanna come down and play uno with me and chris?" he asked, chris peeking behind his shoulder with his hands clasped together in a pleading manner. "fine, but be prepared to lose." nick answered as all of you started to make your way towards the living room, matt straying behind to hook his arm around your waist.

12:11am - multiple games went by, everyone having their fair share of wins but nick ultimately coming out as the winner. "get your skills up, bitches." being his final statement before he made his way back to his room, his head held high at his victory. the rest of you retreat to your bedrooms, the night starting to feel heavy as you and matt once again retreated back to his room with a handful of snacks in your arms. deciding to continue watching the series you started together, you happily munched on your snacks, adding in your own shared commentary, and rewinded the parts that made you laugh.

3:44am - after a few episodes you transcended into gravity falls, quietly listening as matt told you all of the lore he knew and gushed on about his favorite episodes. seeing you yawn made him realize how late it had gotten, you insisted that you weren't tired, despite your droopy eyes telling a different story. matt didn't press the issue, only smiling when he looks over a few minutes later to see you passed out sleeping. once the episode ended, he wasted no time shutting the tv off and tucking you in, giving you a kiss on the forehead as he cuddled as close to you as he possibly could. "sweet dreams, pretty girl."

' 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ' 🎁: @emely9274 @ginswife @chrisstvrns @conspiracy-ash @sturnina @lovetaylorrussellgrr @nervoussagittarius @sacaydia @chrissturnsss @hearts4werka @chrisprincesss @koilaniazul @starsforu @sturn777 @sturniolosiphone @chrisfavoritewhore @sturnsmia @leaningoutthewindow

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

Read your post about something other than angst for Simon so I have a thought that needs to get out. Morning routine with Simon. Obviously, the man is military and has a strict routine but that all goes to shit with you. Sleeping in, lazy lunch, all that cute couples shit but with Simon.

hello! tyvm for sending this idea! cute and silly couple’s domestic fluff is sweeettt!! I hope you will enjoy this :D 💖

A Day of A Cute (and Silly) Couple - Simon Riley*Reader

[6:00]

Simon doesn’t need an alarm, he automatically wakes up at 6 am.

Jogging is an important part of his morning routine when he’s on leave, a nice way to maintain his stamina, and to keep him from getting too loose.

“Where you... going...”

Oh, he forgets he has an unavoidable barrier, between him and his morning jog.

Simon looks down at you, clenching at the hem of his shirt. Your eyes aren’t even open, you just catch him in instinct and now refusing to let go.

“Go for a jog, you know it, love.” The calmness of morning makes him explain in a soft tone unconsciously.

“Stay... please...”

“You can hug your blåhaj first, I will be back soon, yeah?”

“You feel better than blåhaj...”

“...”

It’s too cruel for him to just leave you here, not when you choose him over that bloody shark you always squeeze against your body.

Simon secures the curtain so the room won’t be too bright after the sun fully rises, and lies back on the bed.

Your limbs immediately twine around him when you sense his figure is nearby, and scoots closer to him.

Jogging is important to keep him from getting loose... it’s a must for him to be strict with his morning routine...

The voices in his mind are gradually replaced by the little snores of yours as he drifts back to sleep.

[12:00]

“Can we eat fries for lunch?”

you yell at Simon who’s preparing lunch in the kitchen.

“No”

“WHYYYY!”

“UNHEALTHY!” He shouts back so his voice won’t get covered by the noise of the range hood.

okay then... you feel a bit disappointed, but you can’t come up with a convincing reason, so you just back to sweeping the floor.

just as you’re cleaning the last few spots, a scrumptious smell catches your attention, it’s not those chicken breast or salad or scrambled eggs that Simon deems healthier.

“Do you make fries?!” You knock open the kitchen door with excitement.

What you see is Simon sprinkling some salt and pepper on a bowl of fries, and he turns to you when you rush in like an energetic child.

“A few fries are tolerable” He shows you the bowl, and you can’t wait to reach out and take a bite on the crunchy and golden fries.

“Thank you, baby.” You press an open mouth kiss on your lover’s cheek.

“Don’t kiss me with your greasy mouth...”He growls, but you’re already leaving the kitchen, lilting an off-key song with the bowl of fries in your arms.

Simon just shakes his head and starts cleaning the countertop. If some fries can make you this happy, then fuck those healthy diets.

[18:00]

You two sitting face to face on the couch, the air is full of tension when you speak first.

“Mushroom”

“Mango”

“Oreo”

“Orange”

“Egg”

“g...”

“It’s over 2 seconds! Go take out the garbage, silly!”

“Fucking hell...”

Snickering at Simon’s loss, as he grumbles and on his way to grab the garbage, you add another star under your name to ‘the winner of the week’ sticky note that’s pasting on the fridge.

[23:00]

“Time to sleep.”

“but I want to watch this movie.”

“You can watch it tomorrow.”

“pleassee I want to watch it nowww Simonnn”

“...Fine.”

(00:00)

Simon looking at you sleeping like a log, whole body leaning on him and tangling him like an octopus, totally ignoring the wretched screaming from the movie, sighs and turns off the TV.

He leaves a night lamp for you, in case you need to get up for water during the night, and adjusts you two into a more comfortable posture.

He hears you mumbling something like donuts or maybe your favorite character, and chuckles quietly at how silly you are.

He already knew you would fall asleep during the movie, so that’s why he gave in, and time proves that his prediction’s correct since he’s looking at your serene face now.

“Goodnight.” Satisfied with you resting safe and sound in his arms, Simon plants a kiss on the top of your head and closes his eyes, hoping for a sweet dream that has you in it.

a/n: blåhaj sorry I love u I don't mean to harm u

[emphistic]

Oblivion

a/n: repost bc the original isn't showing up in any tags

Most Thursdays went this way.

As captain of his basketball team, Sukuna always showed up to the gym first. Sometimes, rarely, you would also accompany him. Which is what you did today.

You and Sukuna sat together, talking between yourselves about whatever was going through your minds. Sharing chaste kisses every once in a while.

Fifteen minutes after you and Sukuna entered the gym, the rest of his teammates arrived. The sound of sneakers against the floor boards made you look up from your spot on the bleachers.

"'Sup Y/N."

You waved back.

"Hey, Y/N, long time no see."

"Hi, Y/N!"

"Y/N! Hey! Captain should bring you out here more often, instead of keeping you locked up." The player laughed, and you stifled a giggle.

The captain grumbled; he planted a soft kiss on your forehead before standing up to join his team and start warm-ups.

Sukuna checked his watch, but when he looked up, he saw his newest teammate, Adam — a brunette, who was just a little taller than you. The coach had recently picked him out. Oh, right, Sukuna thought, clearly having forgotten.

"Yo, Captain. Who's that Y/N chick everyone said 'hi' to?" He jabbed a backwards thumb in your direction. "She the coach's daughter?" Adam continued to check you out, while you remained oblivious on your phone. "I wonder if she's single—"

"Run a lap," Sukuna cut him off, his tone stern.

"Wha- why?" Confusion was evident on the brunette's face.

"Five laps."

The man started jogging, but he turned back and asked, again, "Please don't make me run more laps for asking but. . . Dude, why?"

"Because Y/N's my girlfriend, dimwit." Sukuna sighed, before looking over at you, who was still oblivious to the whole situation.

Taglist: @starlets-things @sad-darksoul

[rafecameronssl4t]

Eyes on The Field || nfl player!Rafe Cameron x dcc!reader

Summary: Just Rafe not being able to keep his eyes off of you during the entire game.

Warnings: noneee

Word count: 1,194

A/n: its been waaayyy too long since I've written a dcc!reader fic

MASTERLIST (nfl!rafe x dcc!reader au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

Thunderstruck reverberated through every corner of AT&T Stadium, the iconic riff sending a jolt of energy that seemed to pulse in sync with the heartbeat of the crowd. The stadium was alive but it was you and the rest of the DCC who commanded the attention of every eye in the stands. You all moved across the field with a confidence that could only come from countless hours of practice.

The energy was palpable, the air thick with anticipation as you fell into formation, perfectly poised in your pristine blue and white uniform. A practiced smile curved your lips, every muscle in your body was tuned in. The routine was etched into your memory, each move precise, every step instinctive.

You’d performed this dance over a dozen times, and yet the adrenaline coursing through your veins made it feel brand new. The sound of the music thumped in your chest, and the cheers from the crowd seemed to amplify every movement you made.

And I was shakin' at the knees. Could I come again please?

On the sideline, Rafe jogged onto the field with his teammates, his helmet tucked under one arm. Amid the chaos of the game preparation, his eyes instinctively found you in the centre of the squad, your presence commanding his full attention. “Eyes off the cheerleaders, Cameron,” Chris teased, delivering a playful smack to his shoulder.

“Shut up,” Rafe muttered, but the grin tugging at his lips betrayed him. He didn’t even try to deny it. His gaze then moved onto the big screen where you were the focus, captivated by the way you moved with such confidence and poise. As the routine neared its climax, the crowd roared in anticipation.

Then, the iconic jump split. Your body soared effortlessly through the air before landing flawlessly, and the stadium erupted in thunderous applause. As you gathered your pom-poms, you allowed yourself one fleeting moment to catch Rafe’s gaze from across the field. His eyes locked with yours, intense and searching. Still, ever the professional, you maintained your poised demeanor.

With a flick of your hair and a perfectly timed spin, you held your smile, turned, and strode off the field and onto the sidelines with your group as if nothing had happened, leaving Rafe watching after you, captivated as ever.

~

Rafe jogged off the field, his helmet tucked under one arm, sweat glistening on his face. The game was going well—they were up by two touchdowns—but his focus wasn’t entirely on the scoreboard. As he reached the sideline, his eyes instinctively found you again. You had just finished a routine and were taking a quick water break, trying to catch your breath.

When you noticed Rafe staring, you raised an eyebrow, silently questioning him. He didn’t look away. Typical. Shaking your head, you turned back to chat with the others, refusing to feed his ego any more than necessary. A few minutes later, you spotted him again. This time, he was walking over with a group of his teammates toward the water station.

They were laughing and jostling each other, but Rafe veered slightly to the side, positioning himself furthest from the group—right next to where you stood. You didn’t look at him at first, your gaze fixed on the field as you absentmindedly adjusted your uniform. You felt him stop beside you, the air between you charged, his presence impossible to ignore.

"You know, there’s a game happening," you teased without turning to him, keeping your tone light but teasing. You didn’t dare make eye contact, aware of the curious glances from both his teammates and your squad. Rafe didn’t seem to care. “Is there?” he replied smoothly, his tone playful but his gaze piercing as it trailed over you. “Because all I’ve been watching is you.”

You let out a small snort, finally glancing at him, unable to help yourself. His bluntness was infuriating and, admittedly, a little thrilling. “You’re going to get in trouble if Coach sees you over here flirting,” you said, your voice quieter now, but there was a teasing lilt in your words. Rafe smirked, crossing his arms as if the idea amused him.

“Let him. You’ve got me so distracted, I’m surprised I haven’t dropped a pass yet.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at your lips. Turning your attention back to the field, you checked the clock, noting how little time you had left before the next routine. “Maybe I should stop performing,” you said casually. “Can’t have the star receiver losing focus.”

Rafe chuckled softly, his voice dipping just enough for only you to hear. “Don’t you dare. Best part of game day.” His words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, you let yourself look at him. Really look at him. The teasing glint in his eyes, the way his grin softened just for you—it was hard not to feel flustered under his gaze.

But before you could respond, the music started up again, signaling it was time for you to return to the field. You turned away, a small smile playing on your lips as you joined the formation. As the cheerleaders moved into position, you could still feel his eyes on you.

“Focus, Cameron,” you heard one of his teammates shout from a distance. You hid a smirk as you got into formation. If Rafe was distracted, that was his problem. You had a routine to nail, and he’d just have to wait.

[amirasainz]

Can we please have more of little alonso? Like when she was born and nando holding her for the first time and the grid are confused where he is?

Or before the grid official meeting her, nanda showing them pictures of her and telling them about something cute she did.

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 💚

The newest dad on the grid

Fernando stepped into the paddock for the first time in weeks, his signature confident strut unchanged, but there was something different about him—an energy, a spark, a glow even. The break he had taken from the Formula 1 season to welcome his daughter had rejuvenated him in ways no victory lap could. The paddock, buzzing with its usual pre-race fervor, quieted as drivers spotted Fernando.

“Nando!” came a shout from Charles, who jogged over with a huge grin. “Welcome back! How’s... the baby?!” His face lit up like a kid waiting to hear about Christmas morning.

Max, never far from Charles, joined with a smirk. “Yeah, Fernando, how’s fatherhood treating you? You look—different. Happier, even.”

Fernando chuckled, patting both of them on the shoulders. “Ah, much better than any race, I can tell you that. Yn, my little girl, she’s perfect.”

George approached next, Lewis in tow. “Alright, alright, hold on,” George said, adjusting his perfectly tailored shirt. “Are we finally going to see pictures of this famous Yn? Because the way everyone’s been talking, she’s already an icon.”

“Wait, don’t start without me!” Lando called, sprinting over, followed by Oscar, Carlos, and Pierre. The group was forming faster than a DRS train on a straight.

Fernando, laughing at the commotion, pulled out his phone. “Okay, okay, calm down. Let me show you.” He unlocked the screen and turned it toward them. The photo he showed was of a tiny baby swaddled in a soft pink blanket, her big brown eyes staring up at the camera with curiosity and innocence.

“OH MY GOD,” Lando exclaimed, practically squealing. “She’s adorable!”

“Look at those cheeks!” Charles leaned in closer, his face nearly pressed against the screen. “She’s like a tiny angel! I bet you can't stop kissing them.”

“She has your eyes,” Lewis said softly, his warm smile matching the tone of his voice.

Fernando puffed out his chest, clearly basking in the praise. “She does, doesn’t she? And she already loves motorsport. When I hold her and talk about racing, she doesn’t cry. She just listens.”

Max snorted. “Fernando, she’s like two weeks old. She probably just likes your voice.”

“She’s already your biggest fan, mate,” Carlos interjected with a proud grin. “Don’t listen to Max.”

Fernando swiped to another photo. This time, Yn was asleep, her tiny fist wrapped around Fernando’s finger. The group collectively let out a chorus of “Awwww!”

“She’s so small!” Pierre said, his voice unusually soft. “Like, her hand is smaller than your finger! How do you even handle her without being terrified?”

“It’s instinct,” Fernando replied with a shrug, though the softness in his voice betrayed his own awe. “The moment I held her for the first time, everything clicked. She’s everything now.”

As Fernando flipped through more pictures—Yn in a tiny onesie with a Formula 1 logo, Yn sleeping on his chest during a nap—the drivers grew more animated.

“Does she have a favorite team yet?” Lando teased, nudging Carlos.

“Obviously Aston Martin,” Carlos quipped. “She knows where her dad is.”

Fernando raised a finger. “Actually, she smiles the most when I hum the Spanish anthem.”

“Of course she does,” George said with a laugh. “Your baby, your rules.”

“Does she cry a lot?” Oscar asked shyly.

“Only when she’s hungry or tired,” Fernando said proudly. “She’s very calm otherwise. I think she’ll grow up to be very composed, like her father.”

“Yeah, sure,” Max muttered under his breath, earning a playful shove from Lewis.

The group continued to coo over the photos, and even the normally reserved drivers couldn’t resist commenting. Esteban smiled as he observed from a distance but eventually joined in, congratulating Fernando.

“You should bring her to a race one day,” Charles suggested.

“Yeah,” Lando added enthusiastically. “Imagine a tiny Alonso in the paddock, stealing everyone’s hearts.”

Fernando grinned. “Maybe one day. But for now, she’s better off at home with her mamá. She needs to be calm, not surrounded by all this chaos.”

As the drivers dispersed, Fernando was left with a lingering feeling of warmth. The camaraderie of the paddock had always been special, but now, as a father, he felt it even more deeply. Yn wasn’t just his world; she had somehow become part of theirs too.

Later, during the drivers' press conference, a journalist asked Fernando how it felt to be back after his short break.

“It feels amazing,” he said, his smile unshakeable. “But not as amazing as being a father. Yn is my inspiration now. Every lap, every corner—I’m racing for her.”

The other drivers in the room exchanged knowing smiles. Fernando Alonso, the fierce competitor, had softened in the best possible way. Fatherhood suited him, and they were all here for it.

[inkdrinkerworld]

Inn Love

cw: friends to lovers, cowboy!james, innkeeper!reader, pet names, fluff, scene setting really

wc: 2.6k

“Please Jamie? I just need a couple pounds of butter.” You bat your eyes at him, all sweet and innocent but James knows you.

“If I give you what I have left I won’t have any to sell in the market this weekend.” He’s trying to stand firm. He really really is.

For all your sweetness and innocence, you’re like a viper to James’ strength of will.

“I’ll pay you more than the market.” You’ll definitely try, but James can never charge you full price.

“I’m sorry, darling. Go to Malloy, he sells butter too.”

You wrinkle your nose. “No one sells butter that’s as good as yours, Jamie.” You’re trying as hard as you can, James seems unmoved. So you up the ante. “I’ll bring you one of the pound cakes on top of payment.”

James falters a bit then. You bake the best in the entire town. At your inn, The Secret Garden, that’s one of the best reviews after the impeccable mattresses. You also know James has the softest, sweetest spot for pound cake- especially the blood orange pound cake you make.

He groans and you squeal, your boots clicking on the cobble. James gestures for you to come into his house.

“You’re so fucking evil.” he mumbles, reaching into his second fridge and handing you three pounds of butter. You take a quick peek and find his fridge stocked with pre packaged butter wrapped pretty in parchment, cheese in there too. There’s even milk. James is the best damn dairy farmer this town has ever seen and it’s a wonder how he ever has enough butter.

“You are an angel, James Potter.” you wrap your arms around his neck, and James’ hands automatically wrap around your back.

He’s big and warm, smells like leather and blood oranges and for all his muscles James is surprisingly soft.

James can’t fight the smile on his lips when you let go of him. You really are sweet. “You’re lucky I made more butter today.”

You gasp, not at all surprised. “You playing hard ball with me, Jamie?”

He nods, setting his hat on the counter. “Maybe I wanted a pound cake for free.” he teases but James would never take anything from you without paying you no matter how much you try to get him to. He doesn’t really care that you’re friends, he’s paying you for everything.

“You’re losing angel status, Potter. I gotta go, gotta bake for breakfast tomorrow and for the market this weekend.”

“See ya’, darling.”

James spots you while you’re closing up your booth at the market and hands off the empty crates he was hauling to his friends, Sirius and Remus.

He jogs over to you, and places his hands on your shoulders. You startle and almost swing a punch at him but he catches your fist.

“Okay Rocky,” he chuckles when you put your hand to your chest, breathing heavily like you’d just run a mile.

“You scared me, James! How don’t you make noise when you walk?”

James rolls his eyes, taking your crates from you. You move to packing bags.

“I make lots of noise, you’re just in your head.” He says, you shrug with a smile.

“Did they buy all of your butter?” you ask as you start walking towards your truck, James close behind.

“And the milk and the cheese.” You roll your eyes at his cocky tone.

You know James better than most here. You went to school together, you used to ranch with him when you were younger and when his mom and dad still owned the ranch.

Then you’d both had to grow up, you going to business school and James having to take over the ranch after his mom and dad had gotten sick.

You’d come back for the funeral and been there when James couldn’t get out of bed to deal with the ranch and all the shit that came with that and stayed till he got better and could do it himself.

Then James helped you with the construction of The Secret Garden, your inn that became your baby.

All this to say is, you know James Potter and he’s not as cocky as he pretends to be.

Sure he’s any woman’s dream. With his inky curls always peeking out under his hat, his muscle tees that show off tan, muscled arms, his pretty brown eyes that remind you so much of browned butter and his fucking dimples.

But James is a sweetheart.

“I told you about that tone, Jamie. Makes you sound too sure of yourself.”

James only chuckles, placing the crates in your tray and the rest of your stuff.

“I’m sorry weren’t you telling me the other day that my butter’s the best?”

You wave him off, laughing as you open the back door.

“Do I give you your loaf now or at family dinner tonight?”

James smiles, this is the one routine you and James still have from when you were kids. You go over on Sunday night for family dinner and then you go to the inn and try to get to sleep before your three am alarm.

“I just spent all day in the hot sun and you’re gonna deprive me? You’re cruel, darling.”

You laugh, handing him the loaf and then reaching in your cooler for a bottle of water. “Here Jamie.”

James’ mouth is already stained pink with the icing from your cake. Crumbs clinging to his shirt and chin.

“James! Have some dignity.” your words are broken up with your laugh, James smiles when you hand him the open water bottle.

“Thanks, darling.” Half the loaf cake is gone, and James guzzles the water like he’s been dying of thirst the whole day.

You watch James drink, aware that you’ve been staring a little longer than necessary and James knows it too because he winks at you.

“What are we having for dinner, James?”

James smiles, “Beef, you wanted that last time when we had chicken.”

You smile, giddy as ever. If it’s one thing James can do is roast beef; it’s always tender and perfect.

“Do you need me to come over early and do the potatoes? With the rosemary and thyme?” James nods, breaking off another little bite of the cake.

“Meet me there in an hour? I know you gotta do dinner at the inn.”

You shake your head, “I got Mary doing dinner tonight, and I wanna check on Snowglobe.”

James’ hand falls over his heart, a look of mock offense on his face. “Do you not believe me when I tell you he’s okay?”

You roll your eyes, “Can’t I want to take my best boy for a little leg stretch?”

James grumbles, “Best boy? Snowglobe took two years to train when we were kids.”

You smile as you remember all the days you’d sleep in James’ room complaining about how Snowglobe hated you and would never warm up to you.

“And now he’s the best horse a girl could have.You’re just jealous Jamie.”

He says nothing, just takes his loaf cake and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll follow behind you. Try not to drive like you’re on a race track, yeah?” You nod, getting into your truck and letting James close the door for you.

You don’t listen to James’ words and speed towards his ranch, foot to the pedal even as you swing into the grocery for chocolate for dessert- lest you and James pass away without a sweet treat after dinner.

At his place, in the Big House, you and James work side by side prepping dinner. He seasons the beef, you season the potatoes and put them to roast and then start on a chocolate cake.

It’s not a fancy one, but it’s occasion enough for a chocolate cake.

“How long till everything is finished?” Sirius asks, hat on his chest as he walks in holding a six pack.

“About an hour.” You and James say at the same time. Remus rolls his eyes as he steps in behind his boyfriend.

“I got your fruit, you didn’t stop by.” He holds out three bowls of cut fruit and you smile.

“Thanks Rem, I swear everyone came for bread today! I sold out of it so fast I really contemplated going back to the inn and baking more.”

The boys hum, smiling when James opens a beer and slides it to you. You take it with a nod and a smile. Quickly, you uncover the bowl of watermelon, taking a few pieces and smiling at the sweetness.

“It’s cos it’s fucking amazing bread. Lasts the whole fucking week too.” A compliment from Sirius is always genuine- as long as you’d known him, about two years, you can count on one hand how many sweet words the man says.

Conversation lulls, James talks about his plans for the week, Sirius talks about how there’s too many people trying to build big condos in your town- he’s in real estate and Remus talks of how much simpler life had gotten since he’d started raising chickens again.

You shoot out of your seat, James watches you curiously. You pull the cake from the oven and turn to all three of them stern as can be, “Those potatoes have ten minutes. I’m going to see my horse, do not let them burn.”

You rush out of the Big House without another word, boots clicking against the wooden floors and then crunching on the gravel path as you make your way to the stables.

“Snowglobe, baby.” You call, passing each stall till you find your baby’s.

Snowglobe is an old boy, almost twenty four, but he’s always been perfect. He’s all white, a pretty shiny sort of white on his coat that makes him look like fresh fallen snow. Hence his name.

He raises his head as he sees you, tail flicking as you reach a hand into his stall.

“I missed you, old boy.” You kiss his nose, stepping into the stall and getting a brush. You’re sure the farm hands James hired keep him well groomed, but he likes a bit of pampering and he deserves it too.

You brush through his mane, talking to him and sneaking a couple apples to him.

There’s a knock on the stable doors and you startle, you hear James’ deep chuckle before you see him. “Dinner’s ready,”

You kiss Snowglobe on his nose again. “I’ll come by tomorrow and we’ll go riding, baby.”

James rolls his eyes when Snowglobe puts his face on your shoulder, stopping you from moving.

You grin wide, “I promise, old boy. We’ll go riding all evening.”

Snowglobe seems pleased because he lifts his head and lets you go.

“He’s as clingy as you are,” James says as you walk out beside him.

“He’s not clingy! He’s the best and I don’t come see him nearly enough.”

James scoffs, “The four times a week you ride him up and down the ranch isn’t enough?” He bumps your hips with his.

You shrug your shoulders with a smile, “He likes the exercise and your boys still saddle him. He doesn’t like it.”

James is well aware, Snowglobe tosses saddles off him if he’s feeling particularly annoyed with the weight of them some days.

James pushes open the door to the Big House. You walk past him, taking your seat on the table and groaning.

“This is gonna be fucking great.” Sirius laughs at your swear, and loads up your plate- roast potatoes, roast beef and salad.

By the time you’re all finished dinner, you and James have had two slices of cake each and you’re both sprawled on his sofa.

Remus is laying on Sirius with his hat on his stomach and Sirius’ is pulled low on his face.

“I gotta get going,” you say, breaking the silence. Your words are groggy, sleep close in your reaches the longer you lay beside James.

James sits up, “What time is your alarm?”

“Three thirty.”

James tries pulling you down beside him, but you don’t budge. “I’ll drop you back in the morning.”

You huff, a little amused. “What time do you usually wake up, James?”

“Four. I gotta check the fences though, so three thirty ain’t bad.”

There’s no use arguing with him, and you don’t really want to. He stretches out on the sofa,

Sirius and Remus are out cold, James doesn’t even move them. He just throws a blanket over them.

“C’mon, the guest room is always ready for you.” James sounds just as tired as you feel, his eyes look a little glassy too.

“Thanks Jamie,” you push open the door and smell the lavender spray you use at night strong as if you’d just sprayed it.

“Course darling, your blanket’s there too. Come get me when your alarm goes off, yeah?” James kisses your forehead, you smile.

“Yeah Jamie. Go get some sleep.”

You climb under your blankets, grinning when you smell the linen detergent James uses. Sleep comes quick, your eyes heavier than they’ve been all day now that you’re laying down.

-

Someone is shaking your shoulder and you don’t like it.

“Stop,” you groan, pushing the hand off you and pulling your blanket over your head.

“Darling it’s nearly three thirty. Come get some coffee.”

You groan, twisting in protest under the covers. “No. I’ll be down at three thirty.”

James rolls his eyes. “Don’t make me use advanced waking up tactics.”

Your head pops out of the covers, hair a little messed up. “You are not tugging this cover off me James. I swear to god.”

James smiles, “You’re so pleasant in the morning. C’mon, we’ll have coffee and one of those breakfast sandwiches and I’ll drop you off.”

The grumble you let out makes James laugh some more.

“Give me five minutes.” James nods, leaving the room and letting you go about your morning routine.

You find James pulling two sandwiches from his oven, setting yours on a plate and biting into his immediately.

“Thanks Jamie, where’s my coffee?”

James tilts his head to the pot, your favourite cup sitting right beside it.

“Your creamer’s in the fridge.”

You frown, “Where did you get sugar free creme brûlée creamer in the middle of summer?”

James shrugs, “Not telling. But it’s there.” James takes a sip of his own coffee, black with just a touch of sugar. “It’s turkey in the sandwich too.”

You smile, fixing your cup and then shuffling towards James to kiss his cheek.

“You’re cute, thank you Jamie.”

His cheeks redden without meaning too. “Eat so we can go darling. You got scones to bake and what is it today? Eggs and bacon with toasted sourdough?”

You nod, biting into your sandwich. “Yeah and I gotta do cookies today, want me to bring any over?”

James frowns, “Today?” You nod, taking the last bite of your sandwich and finishing off your coffee.

“Taking Snowglobe out after I finish up dinner at the inn.”

James rolls his eyes playfully. Since the moment Snowglobe stopped fighting you, the pair of you had been inseparable. “Yeah, you can bring a couple. Make sure and eat lunch.”

“Left overs?” Your eyes are wide and hopeful as you look at James. He feels his chest constrict a little.

He opens the fridge and pulls out a bowl, “Got everything here for you.”

“Angel status has been restored Jamie,” James grins, dimples poking out. Truly, he’d never been worried, you’re never actually upset with him ever. Angel status is always applied, but he can’t deny the way it makes him feel when you tell him that it is.

“You’re so gracious!” James bows, making you giggle and slap his shoulder. “Ready?” He asks as he rights himself. James opens the fridge again, pulling out the bowls of fruit Remus had brought over and setting them on your lunch.

“Ready, Jamie.”

[nysrage]

okay walk wit me sis.. 😌

make it fit connie.. or like fake sympathy condescending connie while y’all fucking.. FUCK I LOVE THAT SHIT.. 😩

ouu girl i’m walking! lemme see if i can get it to slight jog tho!

connie wasn’t oblivious to the fact he had a big ass dick. no, not at all. he’d spent most of his late high school and early college years figuring out where’d he’d fit on the inch chain as he liked to call it. most girls not being able to handle it or wouldn’t even attempt to tame it once they saw the monster that lay behind his sweats. many of his friends making fun of him that he didn’t get pussy but in reality, no one was bold enough to take it for him. not until he got his hands on you.

the girl at his university know for her unique street art. from the city and a splitting image of a bratz doll, who was never scared of a challenge felt she was ready to tame everything in life even her above averaged boyfriend.

that is until she found herself atop of him, positioned in reverse cowgirl to give her a man a view he’d never forget. thighs burning from riding dick splitting her open as she sank down a few inches onto him. “f-fuck i can’ttt .” finding herself scurrying back up to the tip, running the longtime lovin’ he was giving you. “thought you wanted it mamí? let papí give it to you.” connie teased, long thick dick hitting every stop imaginable inside of you. “s’too much!” you whined.

“too much..?” connie chuckled, grabbing ahold of your hips and taking a good look your tight two toned pussy wrapped around him. slick dribbling down his dick as you started to fill that emptiness inside you. “nah i think my good girl can take a lil more..” sinking deeper into that clamping hole of yours, moaning at the pressure of him slowly filling you up and sitting you down on his dick. “shittt.” relaxing your body as your walls loosening with warm slick and pulsing as you adjusted to his size. slowly molding to his curvature, filling you deliciously. connie knew it just took a lil work for you to get where you needed to be. “mhm, keep opening that pussy f’me, you right there mamí.”

giving you a final deep thrust that left your soft ass flush against his pelvis, leaving stomach full and mind in sex crazed haze. “fuck this pussy s’good.” groaning as he bounced you up and down his dick, removing his hands once he felt he set a steady pace for you. Inching your hips and down slowly trying your best to take every single inch. Connie landing a rough slap to your ass that left your body jolting from the stinging pleasure. “go down on it princesa, don’t be lazy.”

“thought you said you could take it.”

ass ripppling like waves as he met your hips and fucked himself up into you focused on that pretty pussy sucking every inch of him deeper than he’s ever felt before. nails digging at his thighs for dear life as your body bounced above his, “your so fucking deep” whine barely audible above the loud gushing of your pussy let him know that it’d take every inch happily. “s’ too muchhh! con—” fucking you down on him harder as he reached the spongey spot within that always started the waterworks. “awe that’s all you can take mamí..?” voice rough and full of feigned sympathy as he held up your ass mid air and fucked up into you hard, taking his pounding like a champ and meeting his rough thrusts. A smile creeping on connie’s face once you start riding out the literal high your body was about to reach.

“and you whining it too much, pussy the perfect fit for papí.”

[sky-is-the-limit]

P: Firefighter!Gaz x F!Civilian Reader

CW: SFW/NSFW, Cunnilingus, Fingering

Captain Price's version

Firefighter!Gaz who would first appear like a savior from a dream, broad-shouldered and calm under pressure, breaking into the stuck lift with the rest of his squad.

The doors would groan open and you'd find yourself staring up at a pair of big, brown eyes and a reassuring smile that makes you forget the claustrophobic panic.

''You alright in there? I’ve got you.'' You would’ve never thought your first day at your new job would lead to this.. being pulled out by the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

Firefighter!Gaz who would run back to the firetruck just moments after ensuring you're safe, nearly knocking over his crewmates on his way just to rummage through a compartment to pull out a leaflet for a “fire safety course” hosted at their firehouse and then jog back to you, a little breathless but still flashing that gorgeous smile, saying,

"You know, it’s always good to know what to do in an emergency… I’m teaching it next week if you’re interested." The hint of nerves under his confident charm evident, realizing he’s probably more interested in seeing you again than fire safety.

Firefighter!Gaz who would watch you walk away from the scene but couldn’t stop himself from calling out, ''Don’t forget about the course!'' and when you turn back with a teasing smile, he'd feel a flutter in his chest he hasn't felt in a while. His crewmates would tease him mercilessly, Soap mostly, the entire ride back but he wouldn’t care. He’d already be planning how to make sure you’d show up.

Firefighter!Gaz who would be all cool and collected when you walk into the firehouse a week later for the course. He’d spot you immediately among the few others and make a beeline to your side, leaning down slightly, ''Glad you made it. Thought you might stand me up.'' He'd hover just close enough for you to catch a whiff of that clean, intoxicating scent he seems to carry.

Firefighter!Gaz who would make sure to focus his attention on you throughout the course, earning a few warning glances from his Captain, using every excuse to come over and “help” you like adjusting your posture when you’re learning how to hold a fire extinguisher, his hands warm and firm against your arms, his breath tickling your ear. ''Like this… see? Much better.'' He'd say, his voice lowering slightly, sending fireworks down your spine.

Firefighter!Gaz who would hand you a piece of paper at the end of the course, scribbled with his number and a cheeky note: ''In case of emergencies… or, you know, if you’re bored.''

When you look up, he'd wink but there’s something earnest in his gaze that makes you think he’s serious about you calling. You'd tease back, "Only if you come in uniform!" and for the first time, you’d see his confident exterior crack. He’d chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck, his cocky smirk turning into the sweetest side smile.

Firefighter!Gaz who would text you later that night, unable to help himself by finding your number in the contact information you had to give for the course. ''So, about that uniform request..'' He’d type, heart pounding like he’s back on a 'building on fire' mission, wondering if he’s coming on too strong or not strong enough. The thought of seeing you again would make him grin like a schoolboy with a crush.

Firefighter!Gaz who would invite you for a private “tour” of the firehouse, making it sound official but his tone giving away his real intentions. He’d lead you around, all professional until he catches you looking at him like that again, hungry, intrigued. He’d clear his throat, trying to hide the effect you’re having on him and suggest maybe you check out the back room where they keep the gear, his mind racing with all the possibilities.

Firefighter!Gaz who would find himself leaning against a wall, you pressed close in a tight corner of the equipment room. He’d be all smooth words at first, but the moment you close the distance and place your hand on his chest, he’d lose track of his train of thought. His hands would move to your waist, gripping tighter than he intended, the tension between you crackling like a live wire.

Firefighter!Gaz who would pull you flush against him and murmur, ''You know, I don’t usually do this… but there’s something about you.'' He’d trail off, his lips brushing against yours as he speaks, half-dazed with wanting, half-reeling from how much he’s already wrapped around your finger.

Firefighter!Gaz who would be breathing heavier as you drag him in by his uniform collar, your lips crashing together in a messy, heated kiss. He'd think he’s never been in a more dangerous situation in his life, the kind he never wants to escape from..

He’d press you back against the wall, hips pinning yours as his hands roam your body with one sliding down to cup your ass, giving it a rough squeeze that makes you gasp into his mouth and swallow that sound, his tongue already plunging deeper, desperate to taste more of you and breaths turn ragged, fingers digging into your flesh like he’s trying to ground himself but the way you grind against him makes it clear that he's already losing control.

Firefighter!Gaz who would groan low in his throat when your hands slip under his uniform shirt, feeling the defined muscles of his chest and stomach. His skin would be hot, his body shuddering under your touch as he bites down on your lower lip, tugging it back before whispering, ''I’ve been thinking about this since I saw you in that lift.''

Lips trail down your jaw to your neck, nipping and sucking hard enough to leave marks. His hips start to rock into yours with a slow, rhythmic grind and he’d chuckle against your skin when he feels the damp heat between your legs through your clothes.

Firefighter!Gaz who would quickly get impatient, tugging your pants down just enough to get his fingers where he needs them. He’d groan when he feels how wet you are, his fingers sliding over your slick folds before teasing your clit with slow circles.

''Fuck, you’re soaked… all for me?'' He’d murmur, his lips brushing the shell of your ear and when your hips buck against his hand, he’d press harder, rubbing faster, feeling your body respond to every flick and swirl.

Firefighter!Gaz who would sink to his knees in front of you, tugging your jeans and underwear down in one swift motion, his breath hot against your inner thighs. He’d look up at you with those big brown eyes, licking his lips like he’s about to devour his favorite meal. His mouth would be on you in seconds, his tongue flicking over your clit before plunging deep into your folds.

The sounds he’d make.. Low, needy groans vibrating against your pussy, just to drive you wild, especially as he works his tongue in and out of you, his nose brushing your swollen bud with every move.

Firefighter!Gaz who would hold your thighs open with a bruising grip, his mouth latching onto your clit, sucking and licking with a ferocity that sends waves of pleasure shooting through your body and he’d keep at it, his tongue working faster, messier, saliva mixing with your wetness as you grind against his face, riding his mouth like it’s the only thing keeping you alive with filthy, hungry slurps filling the room, mingling with your breathless moans and gasps.

Firefighter!Gaz who would grow more desperate the more you tug at his hair, his fingers digging into your thighs as he fucks you with his tongue, his mouth covered in your slick. He’d be almost feral with it, moaning against your clit as if he’s getting off on your taste alone, ''Fuck, you taste so good-'' he’d mumble between breaths, diving back in like he’s starved, tongue flicking relentlessly until you’re a trembling mess.

Firefighter!Gaz who would slide his long fingers inside you, curling them just right to hit that sweet spot while his lips stay latched on your clit and watch you lose yourself, your moans getting louder, your body arching off the wall as he pumps his fingers in and out, matching the rhythm of his tongue.

And he’d love every second of it, love the way you’re falling apart, completely at his mercy, your juices coating his fingers and chin as he brings you closer to the edge.

Firefighter!Gaz who would pull back just enough to whisper, ''Wanna make you cum so hard you forget whoever tried before me.'' Tone all rough and needy as he’d dive back in with even more intensity, fingers thrusting faster, deeper, while his tongue flicks your clit with rapid, precise strokes that would have you on the verge, teetering right there and he’d feel it, doubling down with everything he’s got.

Firefighter!Gaz who would almost growl when you finally come undone, your thighs squeezing around his head, your pussy clenching around his fingers. He’d keep working you through it, his tongue never slowing, fingers still fucking you deep as he savors every drop of your release. His name would spill from your lips like a prayer, and he’d drink it in like it’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard.

Firefighter!Gaz who would proudly drape his fire coat over your shoulders, the name “Garrick” emblazoned across the back and slip his hand around your waist, pulling you close as he leads you out into the hallway where the rest of the squad is gathered just to make sure that the message is clear. You were his and he wasn’t shy about showing it.

[gilbertscurls]

Everywhere ➵ Chris Sturniolo

The late afternoon sun bathed the street in a warm golden hue as you strolled toward the park, your thoughts drifting aimlessly. It had been one of those quiet days, the kind where time seemed to stretch out endlessly, leaving you too much space to think. You smiled to yourself, recalling the latest video Chris and his brothers had uploaded to their wildly popular YouTube channel.

Even though you’d known the trio for years—Chris, Nick, and Matt had been your friends since high school—it still amazed you to see how far they’d come. Their videos were blowing up, and the world was finally seeing what you’d known all along: the Sturniolo brothers were something special. But it wasn’t their success that had your head in the clouds today.

It was Chris.

He had always been the life of the group, the one who could make you laugh until your sides hurt. But somewhere along the way, the feeling you got when you were around him changed. It had become more intense, harder to ignore, and now… He was everywhere.

Every time you opened her phone, he was there—his smile, his laugh, his playful antics with Nick and Matt. Even when you weren’t scrolling through social media, something reminded you of him. A song on the radio, a phrase someone said in passing—everything seemed to lead back to Chris.

You reached the park and found your usual spot beneath a sprawling oak tree. Chris had texted you earlier, asking if you wanted to hang out, just the two of you. It wasn’t unusual, but today, there was a nervous energy buzzing under your skin. You didn’t know why.

Maybe it was because of that stupid dream you’d had the other night, where he’d leaned in close, his hand brushing your cheek as he whispered your name. You had woken up in a daze, the feeling of his touch lingering even after you opened her eyes. Ever since then, you couldn’t shake the thought of what it would be like if Chris saw you the same way you saw him.

Before you could dive too deeply into your thoughts, you heard his voice.

“Hey!”

You turned and saw Chris jogging toward you, his face lit up in that familiar grin that always made your heart skip a beat. He wore a faded band tee and baggy jeans, his hair tousled from the wind, and as always, he looked effortlessly good. You waved as he approached, your pulse quickening.

"Hey," you greeted him as he flopped down on the grass beside you, his usual carefree energy radiating off him.

You sat in comfortable silence for a while, just watching the world go by. Chris was always easy to be around—you never had to force conversation or feel like she needed to entertain you. He was like a constant presence, always there, even when words weren’t.

“You’ve been quiet today,” Chris said after a while, glancing over at you.

You shrugged, trying to play it off. “Just thinking.”

“About what?” He leaned back on his hands, his eyes studying you in that way that made it impossible for you to lie.

You bit her lip. “Just… Stuff.”

Chris raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Stuff, huh? You’re gonna have to be more specific than that.”

You laughed, pushing his shoulder lightly. “Fine. Thinking about you. Happy?”

His grin faltered for a split second, but it was so quick you almost missed it. He sat up straighter, his voice softer now. “Thinking about me? Why?”

You felt her cheeks heat up. “I don’t know. You’ve just been… Everywhere lately. On my phone, on my mind.” You forced a laugh, trying to downplay it. “It’s like I can’t escape you.”

Chris didn’t laugh like you thought he would. Instead, he stared at you, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he were trying to figure something out. The silence stretched between you, and for the first time, it felt a little heavy, like there was something unsaid hanging in the air.

“Is that a bad thing?” he asked, his tone more serious than usual.

You blinked, caught off guard by his question. “No, it’s not bad. It’s just… I don’t know. I guess I’ve just been thinking about us.”

His expression softened, and he leaned in a little closer, his voice low. “What about us?”

You hesitated, suddenly feeling vulnerable. This wasn’t how you had imagined this conversation going. You hadn’t planned on telling him, hadn’t even planned on confronting these feelings, but now that the moment was here, it felt impossible to hold back.

“I don’t know how to explain it,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “But lately, I just… I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Chris was silent for a moment, and for the first time, you noticed the shift in his expression. There was no teasing grin, no playful glint in his eyes. Instead, he looked at you with an intensity that made your stomach flip.

“Y/N,” he started, his voice soft but steady, “I’ve been thinking about you too. For a long time.”

Your heart stopped. “What do you mean?”

He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture you recognized. “I mean… It’s not just you who’s been seeing me everywhere. I can’t stop thinking about you either. Every time we hang out, every time I see you, it’s like you’re all I can focus on. It’s driving me crazy.”

Your breath caught in your throat. You hadn’t expected this. You hadn’t expected him to feel the same way.

“I thought I was imagining things,” you admitted, your voice shaky. “I didn’t think you felt that way.”

Chris let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Are you kidding me? I’ve been trying to hide it for months.”

The vulnerability in his voice was something you weren’t used to hearing from him. Chris was always so carefree, so lighthearted, but now there was a weight to his words that made your heart ache.

“So, what do we do?” you asked quietly, your eyes searching his.

He reached out, his hand finding yours, and for a moment, everything around you seemed to fade away—the noise of the city, the buzz of the world. It was just you, sitting under the oak tree, with years of friendship and something more finally coming to the surface.

“Maybe we stop pretending we don’t feel what we feel,” he said, his voice soft but sure. “And see what happens.”

You looked down at your hands, your thumb brushing against his. “What if it changes everything?”

Chris smiled, and this time, it wasn’t teasing. It was warm, genuine. “Maybe it will. But maybe that’s okay.”

You looked up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. The weight of the moment hung between them, heavy with possibility and uncertainty. But as Chris leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a soft, tentative kiss, all the fears, all the questions melted away.

In that moment, it didn’t matter what might change, what risks you were taking. All that mattered was the way he felt—everywhere.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl. Chapter Nine.

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Chapter Ten. The Playlist. Series Masterlist.

Chapter Synopsis - You and Bucky are holding it together. Until you aren’t.

Pairing - DadsBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Warnings - cursing. hospital setting. talk of illness/health issues. panic attack.

Word Count - 3k

Authors Note - I probably sound like a broken record, but… thank you all so much for your patience and support. couldn’t do it without you. can you even believe that next chapter will be chapter ten? thanks for sticking with me. sorry for this rollercoaster of a chapter. there is still more to come - don’t worry!! <3

as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my writing, which generates more of it. feel free to send me a comment or an inbox, too!! thanks, my loves!! <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

You don’t remember the journey.

One minute, Bucky’s grabbing your hand and bundling you into the passenger seat of his truck, buckling you in as your hands shake. The next, he’s undoing your seatbelt, telling you that you’ve arrived as he puts the car in park. You don’t recall speeding across town and into the city. You can’t even think back to the roads flying past in a blur as your thoughts run at a hundred miles an hour.

The only thing that’s on your mind is your Dad.

You and Buck take the stairs two at a time, hands clasped together tightly. When you reach the reception desk, you try to speak, but nothing comes out. Your words have dried up, dissolved and evaporated into thin air. Your soulmate saves you, once again.

“We’re here to see a family member in cardiology. Can you tell us where to go, please?”

The receptionist looks up at you both, before nodding her head in the right direction.

“Follow that hallway, then through the double doors and up the stairs. Go left, and you’ll see the sign.”

You’re on autopilot, heading straight towards the doors. Bucky follows you quickly, throwing a chaste but genuine thanks to the lady behind the desk as he goes.

“Baby,” he calls after you when you reach the top. “Baby, hold on.”

You spin around, looking up at him with glassy eyes. Your bottom lip quivers as he tucks some hair behind your ear, fingertips brushing your cheek gently.

“Take a breath, please. You’re gonna faint before you get there.”

You inhale as deeply as possible, your lungs only filling to half capacity. You grab onto his hand for a second, squeezing as hard as you can.

“Okay. Breath done. Let’s go.”

You take off down the hallway, leaving Bucky to jog after you. Finding the big blue sign that reads Cardiology, you storm through the doors, looking around frantically. You spot Room 4 and head straight into it.

The room is all white, clinical and clean. There’s sunshine beaming through the window, but it doesn’t seem to warm the space. It’s cold, almost ominous. It makes it hard to breathe.

The bed is empty, crisp sheets tucked tightly into the plastic sides. Your Mom is sat in the chair beside it. She looks small, swallowed by the blue material.

“Mama.”

You don’t recognise your own voice. It’s choked and strangled, foreign to your ears.

She practically jumps up, striding across the room to wrap you in her arms. Inhaling the familiar scent of home, you hug her back as tightly as you can.

“Where is he?”

“He’s in surgery.”

You breathe a half sigh of relief. You’d feared the worst, when you’d walked in and seen the empty bed.

“What happened?”

Bucky’s been leaning against the door frame, watching you both carefully but giving you space. The tone of his voice is calm, collected. He’s holding it together for you.

“I honestly couldn’t understand it all. They were telling me so much information so fast.”

She sits down in the chair while you and Bucky perch on the edge of the bed, facing her.

“It was supposed to just be an appointment, wasn’t it?”

She nods.

“They did the EKG and weren’t happy with the results, so the nurse put us in this room while she waited for the Doctor. Then the Doctor burst in, talking about blockages and bypasses and emergency surgery.”

Her hands are trembling, neatly manicured nails being picked at repeatedly. Bucky reaches over and links his fingers with hers, all grounded and reassuring.

“They put him in a gown,” she continues, “and all of a sudden they were wheeling him away. I can’t even remember what I said, or if I said goodbye or I love you.”

“Mama, you will have said I love you. I promise you that.”

“She’s right, Lori. You will have said exactly the right thing. You always do.”

She squeezes his hand gratefully, taking a deep breath.

“The Doctor said he had a blockage, and they were worried about blood clotting. That’s why they rushed him in. The nurse said she’d update me when she knew anything, but I haven’t spoken to anyone yet.”

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon. You know what Jack’s like,” Bucky laughs. “He’s the toughest guy I know.”

She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom, freshen up a little. Call me if a nurse comes in, won’t you?”

You nod, clasping her hand tightly for a moment.

“Promise, Mama.”

She stands up carefully, inhaling before leaving the room. Your posture instantly crumbles, faked bravado leaving you as soon as she’s out of view.

“I’m so scared,” you whisper.

Bucky hears it clear as day.

He slides closer to you, wrapping both arms around your frame. Pressing a kiss into your hair, he runs his fingertips up and down your spine gently.

“I’ve got you, baby. You’re allowed to be scared. But everything is going to be okay. I know it will be.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” you mumble into the cotton of his shirt. “It should, but it doesn’t. That scares me, too.”

Bucky traces the features of your face gently with his thumb, his ocean blue eyes never leaving yours. He dances his finger over the slope of your nose, your cheekbones, the curve of your lips. His skin is warm and calloused against yours, polar opposite to how cold you feel.

“I’m your soulmate,” he murmurs, “but I’m not a miracle worker. Fuck, I wish I was. There are gonna be some things that I can’t fix for you, no matter how badly I want to. We just have to ride them out together, sweet girl.”

You nod, leaning in to rest your head against his pounding heart.

It still beats to the rhythm of your name. Even after all this time.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You don’t jump apart when your Mom walks back in.

Upon first glance, the picture is simple - a girl being comforted by her Dads best friend. A hug. Reassuring words.

If you look closer, the image becomes a little more complicated - her fingers tangled in the front of his shirt. His hand cradling the back of her head. Familiar lips softly pressed to her temple.

Any other time, someone might question the sheer intimacy of the moment. But not now.

Now, all focus is drawn to the nurse in sky blue scrubs that appears in the doorway.

“You’re all Jack’s family?”

You all spin to face her, nodding frantically.

“Thought so. He’s out of surgery, and he’ll be brought up here shortly.”

“Is he alright?” your Mom asks, standing up. You can physically see the tension rising in her body.

“He’s doing okay. The Doctor is going to come up and talk to you a little about some… complications. But he’s okay.”

The reassurance at the end of the sentence doesn’t make any of you feel any better. You’re stuck on the word complications.

As if on cue, your Dad is wheeled in, all laid up cosy in crisp white sheets. He has oxygen tucked up under his nose, tubes and wires attached to his hands. He looks fragile, which is a state you’ve never seen him in before. Usually, he’s larger than life, braver than a bear, with a booming laugh that can make anyone smile. In this current moment, he looks like a little boy again, put to bed softly by his mother on a school night.

They get him situated as the Doctor approaches the three of you, huddled by the chair to stay out of the way.

“The surgery went well. The blockage has been fixed, and hopefully shouldn’t reoccur. We’ll put him on medication for the future, blood thinners most likely, to prevent anything further.”

Your Mom nods, lips pressed together.

“The nurse said there was complications?”

Bucky’s voice is low and careful, the timbre of it reverberating next to you.

“We ran into some trouble with the anaesthetic. We struggled to wake him for quite some time, and then his blood pressure completely bottomed out. We managed to get him steady again, but it was a little touch and go for a minute.”

Your Mom sits down slowly, holding onto the arms of the chair with taut knuckles.

“Your husband is going to be just fine, ma’am. We’ll manage any future worries with meds. Some people just don’t respond well to anaesthesia, especially if they’ve never had it before. We’ll monitor him over the next few days, keep him under observation just in case. But it looks positive. I assure you.”

She inhales, leaning back and exhaling the breath.

“He’ll probably just sleep it off for the rest of today, so don’t worry if he’s barely conscious. His body has been through a trauma, and he needs some time to recover.”

You all nod, Bucky’s hand reaching out to squeeze yours momentarily. He subtly presses a kiss into the nape of your neck, as if to melt the tension away.

You all breathe a collective sigh of relief.

“If you need anything, there are always nurses walking around on this floor. They’ll call me if necessary.”

She smiles before leaving, picking up her clipboard as she goes.

“Thanks, Doctor!” Bucky calls after her, making both you and your Mom laugh softly.

The three of you remain still for a while, scared to make any sudden moves. Eventually, Bucky stretches his legs.

“I’m gonna grab some coffees. The usuals?”

You both nod at him.

“Be right back. Call me if you need anything.”

You can’t take your eyes off him as he leaves. You miss his warmth instantly.

“He’s a good guy,” your Mom whispers to you from the chair, where you’re perched on the armrest. She’s watching him go too.

You hum in agreement.

“He looks out for you.”

You hum in agreement once again, albeit this time a little quieter.

“You guys are close, these days.”

You inhale calmly.

“Yeah,” you murmur. “He’s got my back.”

“He likes you a lot.”

Before she can continue, your Dads eyes flutter open slowly. You both jump up, standing on either side of his bed.

“Hi, honey.”

“Hi, Dad.”

He blinks rapidly, trying to adjust to the harsh lighting.

“How you feeling, tough guy?”

He smiles softly, and the relief that fills your body is so overwhelming, you feel as if your legs might give out. You hold onto the metal bars of the bed for support, praying you stay upright.

He groans a little, throat hoarse.

“Water?”

Your Mom puts the straw in his mouth, nodding in approval as he sips.

“I’m good,” he croaks. “Got my girls with me.”

You both laugh.

“Jack, as much as I’d love to be your girl…”

Bucky is stood against the doorframe, keeping a careful distance from the family moment. Your Dad chuckles, shaking his head.

“You’re the prettiest one, Buck,” he says with as much conviction as he can muster. You all can’t help but laugh even more.

“How you feeling, honey?”

“Fine. Tired, though.”

“The Doctor said you’d most likely just sleep it off all day. Go back to sleep, if you want to. We’re right here.”

He nods, closing his eyes instantly. Your Mom settles back in the chair as Bucky hands her a coffee. He goes to give you yours, but you place it down on the side table.

“I’m gonna get some air. Be back in a minute.”

He gives you a look that says are you sure?, but you’re already out the door, not glancing back.

“She doesn’t like hospitals.”

Bucky nods in recognition, but can’t focus on anything except the severe levels of rising anxiety in his chest.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You can’t find your way out, and it’s making you panic more.

You’re throwing doors open, running down sets of stairs. Eventually, you see an exit, and barge through it with no regard for your surroundings. You’re at the front of the hospital, somehow making it to the main entrance.

Your lungs feel like they’re burning, white hot heat filling them with each weak inhale that you manage. The world is turning, suddenly, the entire axis of the Earth shifting on its head. Gasping, you grab onto a railing, desperate to just take a full breath and calm down.

The more you try to breathe, the worse things seem to get. It feels like the non existent walls are closing in, claustrophobia settling into your weary bones. Your legs buckle as your surroundings spin.

You don’t even register the impact of your knees hitting the ground, nor feel the pain that follows. You’re only minutely aware that you’re even on the floor because you can feel the warm tarmac underneath your palms.

Suddenly, there are two strong arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you into a solid chest. You relax against it, tired of fighting.

“It’s me, baby. Shit, it’s me.”

The voice is panicked, almost frantic in the way it hits your ears. There’s a hand stroking over your hair, strumming over your cheekbone, squeezing your shoulder. You wonder for a second if anyone has ever died from something like this. You feel as if you’re pretty close.

“You’ve got to start slowing your breathing, honey. Can you hear me?”

You think you nod. You assume you do, because the voice continues.

“Put your hand on my heart,” he says as he does it for you. “Just like that. Can you feel the beat of it, underneath your palm? It sounds like a drum, right? One two, one two, one two. Can you focus on it?”

You try to hone into the sound. You think you might be able to distantly feel it, where your hand meets his shirt.

“How about if we create a pattern together? And we’ll both follow it? Like this.”

The voice tilts your chin upwards, so you’re looking into his eyes.

“Bucky,” you choke out.

“Breathe when I breathe, okay? In, and out,” he inhales and exhales. “In, and out. There we go, atta girl. In, and out. You got it.”

You stay collapsed on the sidewalk for what feels like hours, breathing when he tells you to. You focus your vision on his ocean blue irises, finding your home in them. Eventually, you feel like you’re somewhat filling your lungs, and the world stops spinning.

“There she is.”

You drop your head onto his chest, warm tears soaking into the material of his shirt.

“I’ve got you, sweet girl. I’ve got you. You’re okay. You’re safe.”

You finally let yourself relax, sagging against his body as he holds you close.

“Fuck, you scared me. Are you hurt?”

You don’t even know the answer to that question yourself.

Bucky starts checking you over, looking for any visible injuries. When he reaches your knees, he inhales sharply.

“Shit, baby. We’ll have to get some antiseptic on these grazes of yours. You’ll have some badass bruises tomorrow, tough girl.”

You realise, slowly, where you are. You’re on the sidewalk outside the hospital, sat on the floor, wrapped in Bucky’s arms. You try to stand up too quickly, and wobble backwards.

“Woah, easy. There we go. Come sit over here with me.”

There’s a wooden bench not far from the entrance, tucked in between a hedge and a flowerbed. You take a seat, surveying the bloody mess of your knees as you do.

“They look worse than they are, baby. Promise. We’ll fix them when we go back upstairs.”

You rest your head on his shoulder as he throws an arm around you and tugs you into his side.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, hmm?”

“Don’t like hospitals,” you whisper. “Never have.”

“Is there… any particular reason? Or is it just one of those things?”

“Spent a lot of time here when I was younger,” you admit quietly. “I was kind of a sick kid. Had my own set of issues. Lots of appointments and stuff.”

Bucky nods against the top of your head, pressing a kiss into your hair.

“You never mentioned anything.”

“Didn’t think it was relevant.”

He hums.

“I’m sorry,” you confess. “For causing a scene. Being dramatic.”

“Honey,” he scolds. “You’re not dramatic. We’ve all got our fears, the things that make us tick. I promise you, no one thinks you’re dramatic. You feel how you feel, and that’s okay.”

You sigh in defeat, pulling your knees up under your chin.

“I think I was holding it together until I saw he was okay. When I knew he was fine, I just… crumbled.”

“That’s a perfect reflection of your character, you know. Keeping it together for everyone else.”

You chuckle dryly.

“Maybe. I suppose.”

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The two of you sit outside for a while longer, breathing in the fresh air and revelling in each others embrace.

“We should probably go back up. They’re going to wonder where we are.”

You go to stand up, but Bucky pulls you back down onto the bench.

“Honey, wait. There’s something we need to… talk about, before we go.”

You turn to face him, and instantly tense up. He looks worried.

“Buck, what is it?”

“I… I don’t know what we’re supposed to do. Or how we’re meant to handle this. I really, really don’t know what the best angle is here.”

“You’re scaring me,” you say as you cradle his face. His scruff tickles your palm, and any other time, you both would have laughed.

“Before I came down to find you, your Mom raised a question with me.”

“… which was?”

He takes a deep breath. Exhales it shakily.

“She asked me how long you and I have been soulmates.”

tag list part one

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[heich0e]

“Miya-san!”

Osamu’s head swivels towards the sound, and he spots you right away even though you weren't the one who called for him.

You’re a few metres down the road, sitting on a bench in front of a bustling restaurant, slumped over onto the shoulder of your junior who seems to be doing everything he can to keep your head tipped up against his arm. Kimura, the name Osamu had once been introduced to him as at one of the events your company held, has blushy cheeks when the older man approaches—he seems flushed due both to being flustered and a little tipsy, and the knot of his tie is loosened at the base of his throat.

“Kimura-kun,” Osamu greets him with a dip of his head as he approaches, his eyes scanning your seemingly sleeping face. “She asleep?”

“No,” you slur in reply, but your eyes stay closed. Osamu’s not certain it’s the truth, and even less certain you realize he’s the one who said it.

“I-it’s all my fault,” Kimura squeaks, looking increasingly like he might burst into tears. “They were trying to make me drink more, but Senpai kept switching out our glasses when the other section leads weren’t looking.”

“Yeah, that sounds like somethin’ she’d do,” Osamu replies with a fond but exasperated sigh.

“I’m sorry for contacting you so late,” Kimura says, flinching as you slump away from him unexpectedly in your drunken stupor. Osamu is quicker to react than the younger man, stepping in and catching you in the crook of his elbow before you can go toppling off the bench onto the sidewalk. He keeps you steady.

“Don’t apologize, I appreciate ya callin’ me to come get her—and thanks fer lookin’ after her,” he says down to the younger man, who seems relieved now not to be responsible for keeping you upright. “Tell her to bring ya by the shop for a meal sometime as payback. She owes ya one.”

Kimura’s eyes widen and he shakes his head like he couldn’t possibly accept, but before he can decline the offer Osamu turns his attention back to you. With an arm wrapped around your waist, he gently pries you from your seat.

“Up ya go,” he mutters encouragingly as he eases you onto your feet.

Your eyes flutter slowly open, looking around blearily for a moment as you take in your surroundings.

“Samu?” you ask, his name slurred on your alcohol loosened tongue. You perk up noticeably in his arms once you realize just who’s holding you. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to take ya home, Cinderella,” he says with a light laugh as your fingers twist into the material of his sweatshirt against his chest. He looks to Kimura again, who’s also risen to his feet now. “We’ll be off, then.”

“Thank you, Miya-san!” Kimura bows deeply forward, a nearly perfect 45 degree angle at his waist.

He’s a sweet kid, Osamu can’t help but think, even if does follow you around like a puppy.

Osamu helps you down the sidewalk towards his waiting truck, then up into your seat on the passenger’s side. He makes quick work of buckling you into your seatbelt even as you squirm counterproductively, then he jogs swiftly around to his own side of the truck and climbs in behind the wheel.

Kimura waves from outside the restaurant as the truck pulls away.

“Seems like ya had fun tonight,” Osamu remarks as he drives in the direction of your home. You hadn't even wanted to attend this work gathering, but had been forced to by your director. Now look where it had gotten you.

You’re fiddling with the controls of the radio, stations crackling in and out as you switch rapidly through the channels. 

“Drank too much,” you complain, settling on a talk radio station (of all things) that seems to be midway through discussing prefectural bylaws.

“Don’t I know it,” Osamu quips in reply and you swat at him harmlessly over the centre console with a laugh.

You’re turned in your seat, your body facing in his direction, watching him as he keeps his eyes on the road. He can feel your gaze tracing over him, but doesn’t glance back.

“Hey,” you whisper, something conspiratorial in your tone. “Wanna know a secret?”

“Sure thing,” he plays along with your antics, fighting back a grin.

It’s silent for a moment—only the voices on the radio discussing trash collection to be heard. Osamu pulls up to a red light, and finally looks over to meet your gaze.

Your eyes are glassy and a bit unfocused, but they’re bright with affection.

“I have a crush on you,” you tell him with a giggle.

Osamu’s chest pangs.

The light turns green.

“Well,” he remarks, returning his gaze to the road ahead and proceeding through the intersection. “That’s good.”

From the corner of his eye, he sees your shoulders slump dejectedly. 

“I’m being rejected,” your next words are positively morose. You turn away from him and lean your body over to the side. He hears a loud thump as your forehead head hits window on your right.

“Hey!” Osamu chides you in concern, reaching out and grabbing the collar of your blouse to tug you up a little straighter. It’s not the most elegant motion by any means, but he’s fairly limited with his other hand on the wheel and his eyes still on the road.

“Owww,” you complain, rubbing your forehead weakly. You bat the hand he has clutching the collar of your shirt away. “You’re so mean.”

“How’m I mean?” Osamu guffaws beside you.

“I just confessed my love for you, and all you had to say is ‘that’s good’!” You turn your body in your seat to waggle an unsteady but judgemental finger at him. “A woman’s heart is a precious, fragile thing, y’know!”

“There’s nothin’ fragile about ya,” Osamu mutters under his breath, thinking about how much you had to drink that night as a prime example of this fact. “Yer tough as a brick wall.”

“Mean!” you jeer at him again, your mouth agape in the wake of his words.

Osamu flicks his turn indicator on before he pulls his truck over to the curb, putting it into park. You’ve stopped outside a convenience store, and when he turns to look at you, the fluorescents from inside the shop bathe you in a backlit halo where you sit in the passenger seat.

He grabs your hand. The one you still have lifted to point at him.

“D’ya see this?” he asks, holding your hand up in front of your face. The ring on your fourth finger catches in the glow of the convenience store lights.

Your eyes widen.

Osamu holds up his left hand where there’s a ring that matches your own.

“I said it’s good y’got a crush on me ‘cause we’re married, dummy.”

Your lips form a surprised little ‘o’ as your eyes flicker rapidly from the band on your finger to his own and back again. 

After a moment you grin, your eyes squeezing shut with how high your cheeks lift. “What a relief!”

Osamu is quick inside the store, just popping in to buy a vitamin drink for you and a pack of cigarettes for himself. He doesn’t smoke as much these days—you’d nag him incessantly if he did—but every so often he gets a craving, and tonight is one of those instances. 

The two of you sit side by side on the curb in front of the shop, the truck parked a little ways down the road. 

Osamu takes a drag of his cigarette, sighing in contentment with wispy plumes of smoke slipping from his lips. He peeks over at you from the corner of his eye. 

“Ya feelin’ better?” he asks.

You’ve got the little bottle of vitamin drink cradled in your hands, working your way through it slowly. You hate the taste of them, he knows that, but you’d regret it more tomorrow morning if you didn’t force it down tonight. You nod a bit, and seem to have sobered up in the time since Osamu arrived to take you home.

“This reminds me of when we first started datin’” Osamu laughs to himself. And he means it. Everything about it. Being out so late. The taste of the tobacco on his tongue. The way you keep creeping a little bit closer to him unconsciously, as though his space isn’t already yours to freely take. “I can’t believe ya forgot we’re married.”

You groan in embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”

He bites back a grin, trying not to revel too much in your misery.

“And I’m sorry I made you come pick me up,” you mumble after a moment, taking another sip from the little bottle in your hand and wincing against the bitterness. “I planned to just take a cab.”

“It was that little junior of yours who contacted me,” Osamu laughs, lifting the cigarette to his lips and holding it there while he rifles in his pocket for his phone. He holds the device out so you can see the conversation where your subordinate had commandeered your phone, remorsefully messaging Osamu asking him to come and collect you from the bar. He’d even used a funny little sticker of a bunny with tears in his eyes bowing apologetically—it bears a striking resemblance to Kimura himself. 

“That kid,” you sigh, shaking your head lightly as you rub your temple. Your eyes suddenly widen and your face snaps towards your husband. “Wh—“

“Tsumu’s there watchin’ ‘em,” Osamu laughs, reaching up and plopping a hand down atop your head. “Not that there’s much to watch since they’re in bed. He was still at the house when Kimura-kun messaged me.”

You lean into Osamu's touch as you think of your twins at home, tucked up in the little bed they share, and it makes your heart ache a little bit. You wonder if you’ll be able to creep in and give them a kiss goodnight when you get home without waking them. 

You go terribly quiet for a moment, and Osamu finishes his cigarette. He stamps it out on the curb beside him and then slips the extinguished stub back into the pack to throw into an ashtray later.

“Samu?” you call to him, your voice quiet.

He glances over at you, and sees the way you’ve wrapped your arms around your knees. The anxious posture worries him.

“I didn’t forget you, I promise,” you whisper. “It’s just… sometimes I think this is all too good to be true.”

Your husband watches as you admire the ring on your finger that reflects the streetlight overhead.

Osamu smiles to himself, scooting closer to you on the curb.

“I know,” he reassures you, wrapping an arm around your waist and tucking you into his side. Your head naturally falls to his shoulder. Familiar and instinctive. “I was just teasin’ ya.”

You smell like alcohol. He’s sure he smells like cigarettes. You're in rumpled business casual, and he's dressed in the sweats he planned to wear to sleep. He reaches over and takes your left hand in his own—your wedding rings overlapping. And for a moment, in spite of all the ways the two of you have changed over the years and all the ways that life is different now, everything is exactly how it’s always been.

He tilts his face and presses a lingering kiss to your temple.

‘I’ve got a crush on ya too, by the way.”

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

Green | Part 3

What were you thinking?

Tags/Warnings: Rabbit hybrid!Jungkook, Fox hybrid!Reader, Single Dad!AU, strangers to lovers, Fluff, romance, angst

Length: ~3k words

-> Masterlist

There is no taglist for this fic.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

You’re busy thinking about what to buy for dinner later, when suddenly, you feel a small hand tug on the hem of your jacket.

One look down, and you spot the by now familiar face of Jungkook’s little daughter, ears all folded downwards, eyes glossy with fear, and you instantly seem to snap right into a protective mindset, squatting down to her level. “What’re you doing here all by yourself?” You ask kindly, a bit surprised that she freely and almost eagerly clings to you, walking closer to have as much physical contact as possible- most likely to soothe herself. “Where’s dad, hm?” You ask further, and Minji just shakes her head, moving one of her hands to pick at her bottom lip. She then decides that you’re now her best bet, as she clings to you, making you think. “you wanna go sit in the cart?” You ask her, and she looks, before she shakes her head.

Well, you’ve not worked as a daycare worker for nothing.

So you pick her up, careful to make sure she’s securely placed against your hip, before you take out your phone to dial Jungkook’s number- just for it to not go through, signal too bad within the large store. “Let’s see..” you mumble, checking your surroundings before you move to walk closer to the exit, signal returning a little as you try again. Minji has calmed down by now, which surprises you- her attention now completely caught by your ear that’s closest to her, though she decides against reaching out for it, instead inspecting your necklace.

“I’m sorry, it’s not very good timing-“ Jungkook’s voice comes out of your phone’s speaker, panic clear in his tone as his daughter’s ears instantly move up and towards the phone in interest.

“I think I’ve got what you’re looking for.” You say, adjusting her a little as she giggles, visibly having relaxed now. “I’ll be waiting near the exit. I’m next to the ice cream section.” You say, and he hurries out a response, before he hangs up.

“I lost Sam.” Minji tells you quietly, looking for your reaction, as you watch her as well. You’ve not interacted much yet, but you’re honestly excited that she’s warming up.

“Sam?” You ask, and she nods.

“He.. wears like.. pants.” She explains. “that go like this..” she motions over her shoulders- she’s probably talking about overalls. “He’s a frog.”

Oh. She’s probably talking about a stuffed toy.

“Maybe we can look for him later. Is that why you got lost?” You ask, and she nods.

“Dad dropped him.” She explains. “now he’s alone.”

“I’ll track him down, no worries. Did you lose him inside the store here?” You ask her, and she nods. “You remember where?”

“There was big pots.” She explains. Jars, maybe? You’ve got an idea where she might have lost the soft toy. But before you can think about it much more, Jungkook’s boots can be heard, as he jogs towards you with his daughter in your arms. Minji doesn’t seem to see the severity of the situation at all- happily waving towards him, as if she didn’t just give him a heart attack.

“Jesus Christ, thank God you found her. Minji!” He scolds, and you want to tell him to calm down first before lecturing her- but you’re not in any position to do so, rather leaning down to set her onto her feet. But the sight of her dad all upset makes her shake her head, eagerly clinging to you, trying to climb back onto your arms by pulling on your jacket as best as she can. “you can’t run off like that!” He continues, while his daughter begins to cry into your chest, hiding away in shame. You share a look with him and he sighs, clearly getting your message as he calms down, letting his adrenaline slowly pass.

“Let’s go find Sam now, hm?” You ask her, wiping her cheeks as she nods, before she looks over her shoulder at Jungkook, who seems confused. “Her stuffed toy. She said she dropped it somewhere in the store-”

“No, dad dropped him!” She whines towards you, and you laugh, nodding.

“-YOU dropped him, and now we’re gonna go find him.” You say, getting up to put her in your shopping cart, having her sit down instantly. Jungkook follows quietly, still slowly working on relaxing again, while you look through all the different areas of the store, always on the lookout for something on the floor maybe. But there’s no sight of it- either someone has already picked it up, or it got kicked beneath the large shelves somewhere.

Jungkook is getting ready to call it quits, when you suddenly move away from pushing the cart, looking under one of the larger display shelves, something poking out there- and surely enough, while incredibly dusty, that seems to match the description the little girl had given earlier. “Hm, I think he needs a bath once you all go home though.” You laugh, dusting the poor toy off before you give it to Jungkook.

Minji reaches for it, but you carefully pull her hands back. “Sam is a little dirty right now. I’m sure you can have him back after he had a good scrub at home though.” You reassure her, and she nods, eagerly watching where Jungkook puts the toy now, visibly suspicious of her father now that he already lost her little friend once before.

Once the little runaway is back in the car and safely buckled into her seat, Jungkook sighs, door closed. “Thank you. I’m sorry I got so riled up-” He starts, but you shake your head.

“It’s understandable. I didn’t.. Want to overstep any boundaries by telling you what to do- and at the end of the day, it’s not my place to speak against how you act towards her.” You explain, and he shakes his head.

“If this is supposed to work, we’ll have to work together.” Jungkook disagrees. “I do agree that.. We should keep our steps slow and steady, but she’s going to be just as big of a part in your life as she is in mine, if we want this to work.” He offers, and you nod.

“She was.. Really touchy.” You say. “I was a bit overwhelmed.” You admit to him, and he laughs.

“It’s a good thing though?” He says. “You’re just too charming to resist. Seems like I’ll have to look out for potential competition.” The bunny hybrid laughs. “I might be able to handle my daughter falling for you, but that’s where I draw the line.” He playfully threatens, and you laugh along, giving him a kiss to say goodbye.

But as you walk back to your car, Jungkook calls out to you again, a hand waving you closer as he opens the door to where his daughter is sitting. “What’s wrong?” You ask, stepping closer-

“You need to say goodbye to me too!” Minji says, with the most adorable pout towards you, little arms crossed, before she reaches for you.

And of course, you take that chance to hug her.

You’d be a fool not to.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

His apartment looks pretty nice, now that you’re seeing it all in daylight- and without the burdon of believing that you’re ruining a family.

According to Jungkook, Minji is currently staying with Jimin again- to give him a day off and offer him some time to spend with you, able to put his whole focus on you. However, you notice that he’s awfully.. Uneasy almost. As if there’s something on his mind still.

“Are you worried about Minji?” You ask, as he sits down on the couch next to you, phone placed on the coffee table. His face shows that he’s caught off guard- and so you elaborate. “You just seem a little distracted.” You smile, encouraging him to talk about whatever is troubling him- and he sighs, before he breaks eye contact with you.

“It’s Minji’s mother.” He admits, and at that you become a bit less relaxed as well. “She’s not-..” He sighs, turning towards you to hold your hands. “I don’t think she’s interested in me particularly, but even if she was, trust me-” He presses, “-my feelings for her have long died. Or rather yet, given to someone else who will take way better care of them.” He tells you.

“Bold claim.” You try and ease the air, with only minimal sucess however. “But, if it’s not you- what does she want then?” You ask.

“She wants to.. See Minji.” He explains. “I’m not sure why- but I’ve got no right to tell her no, you know?” He tells you, and you nod. After all, she’s still her mother, and has every right to see her daughter.

Though it does make you uneasy. What if she was to show Jungkook how she’s overcome whatever might’ve made her so upset with her own child years ago? What if he realizes that he can indeed have this happy little family he was hoping for when he got with her from the start? He might not feel it now, but surely, a connection between parents must run deep.

“I mean.. Minji deserves to know her mother.” You agree, trying hard not to let the way Jungkook’s ears droop and face falls at the second you slip your hands out of his get to you. You feel terribly selfish in this moment- you're not his daughter’s mother, nor will you ever be. Of course you had fallen into the trap of hope for just a second, but at the end of it all, Jungkook will most likely be better off with a prey hybrid, a bunny just like him who can make the little girl feel more comfortable.

What were you even thinking? The second she’d go to school, she’d be the talk of the school with her weird, scary predator-hybrid mother.

“Hey- I promise you this won’t change at all how I feel about you.” He tries to reassure you, and you can feel your heart crack a little at the softness of his tone. “We don’t even know how it’ll go. And Minji already likes you a lot.” He says.

“Jungkook..” You start, but he shakes his head, hands on your cheeks now to make you look at him. There’s a certain sense of determination in his eyes- but you can’t help but feel like this confidence in this whole situation and its future is terribly one-sided.

“No, listen to me.” He urges. “Give it time. Trust me. Let it all just.. Grow at it’s own pace. I already know that what I feel for you is genuine love, and I hope that you can develop feelings like that towards me too.” Jungkook tries to soothe your worries. “And Minji will love you too. Just be patient, okay?” He requests, and you nod, though he can see from the avoidance of eye contact and the way your ears are still turned downwards, that it’s not quite getting to you yet.

So all he can do in this moment is kiss you, and hope that at least for a little while, he can make you believe.

Even if he himself, has his own doubts, deep down.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Its quite funny how things can suddenly change.

One second it feels like you’re living in a dream- everything around you appearing to fall right into place, like the world has decided to grant you your happiness and biggest wishes as a reward for staying strong for such a long time. And then, all of a sudden, the floor is ripped from underneath you, leaving you with no ground to stand on, destined to drown in both uncertainty and confusion.

You shouldn’t feel this upset. Yet everytime your sketches of the little frog family stare back at you, it feels like they’re mocking you, and no longer representing wishful thinking of a younger version of you.

You feel out of place. But have you ever been a part of that space you now feel exiled out of in the first place? Most likely not, now that you really think about it. If anything, you’d been a visitor. A mere spectator, watching from the sidelines, never invited to step any closer than the boundaries set. And the worst thing about it all is, that Jungkook was wrong. You don’t have to develop any feelings for him-

You already have, knowing that it would be a waste.

When Jungkook calls, you’re sure you know the reason already. He probably wants to know what he did wrong, what he can do to fix it, and you won’t be able to give him an answer to that, because you honestly don’t know if this should be fixed at all. Maybe its for the best. Just imagine. His former partner might’ve developed a longing to her biological child now, and once she gets closer to her, she’ll get closer to him as well. Old feelings might be reignited, past memories filling up hearts until you’re long pushed out of his heart, no longer needed.

What were you thinking?

You decide to accept his call, realizing that you can’t avoid him forever- and the moment you do so, his voice can be heard over the speaker, another one in the background you recognize must be his daughter. Is her mother there already?

“I know what you’re doing, you know?” He says, and you feel oddly put on the spot. Yes, you’ve been ignoring him for days by now, and yes, that’s probably very petty behavior- but you can’t help it. You don’t want to stand in between them, and quite honestly, you also don’t want to force him to choose one or the other in the worst case scenario.

“...well, that’s good then.” You try and shrug it off- but he sighs.

“Not really, no.” He denies, before you can hear Minji say something- though its too quiet to really make out. “Yeah, dad’s talking to her right now.” He answers, and you dread whats possibly about to happen. “Sure, come here- there. Now you can talk.” He starts, before you can hear her more clearly.

“Are you angry at me?” She asks, and your heart breaks at the prospect of her thinking that you might be upset at her- because you’re not. You’re not even upset at Jungkook, or any of it. You’re upset with yourself, if anything.

“No, of course not.” You answer because of that, trying hard not to get emotional. “I’m just.. Busy.” You attempt to justify yourself, hoping that that might be enough for the little girl to let go of it. But she doesn’t.

“Are you angry at dad?” She asks now, and you sigh, before you deny that as well.

“No, I’m not angry at your dad either.” You tell her. “I’m just.. A little upset with myself. But you don’t have to worry about that.” You attempt to reassure her.

“Dad can make us pancakes!” She suddenly chirps up. “With ‘nanas. He makes them when I’m sad.” She explains her reasoning as to why he should cook you food of all things, and you cant help but feel the way her innocent actions and thoughts seem to get to you. “Can you do that?” She asks away from the phone, and you assume she’s most likely looking at her father.

“I can, but I don’t know if that would make her happy.” Jungkook answers. “Sometimes people just want to be alone, Minji.” he explains to her, and its quiet for a moment, before she speaks again.

“But in the book-” She starts, collecting her thoughts while she speaks. “-in the book, when the mama-frog was sad, the dad-frog and baby-frog made her a cake together. And then she was happy again.” She recites what she must’ve pieced together from looking at the most recent book’s pictures. It’s not quite accurate to the story written- but the message has clearly been conveyed, despite her inability to read.

It’s not about how much you can offer another person- its the act of even just trying to give what you can that counts the most, even if its just silent comfort, or a cake made with leftover ingredients you found.

“Minji-” Jungkook starts, but you cut him off, unsure where you take the bravery- or stupidity, depending on the viewpoint- from.

“Lets bake a cake then.” You say, before you can back out again. “All of us, together.” You propose, and from the sounds of it, the little girl is more than on board with the idea-

Though it’s Jungkook’s voice that catches you most, as he speaks to you in a tone thats both warm, and holds so much more than just gratitude for a moment. Probably because he realizes that this is more than just a simple step towards the two of them- it's your war of telling him that you want to try this, even if it fails.

So his voice is soft, as he speaks.

“Thank you.”