#faad: willa's | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

emerald-evans · 3 years ago

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oh my god euuuun 🥺 this was such a pick me up after the day I had, but I still wish I was able to read this sooner! I literally can’t choose a favourite because they were all so amazing but here are some of my favourites

I have to say my favourite blurb was andy because she is totally my comfort character and I love how soft you write him 🥺

a close second is the willa & georgia blurbs because I think we all need a lot of softness after everything that has happened in both of those series LOL (my heart is still hurting after reading just half of faad, and ransom still having his old stuffy was just

no other words needed.

and you already know curtis is my forever lover, and taking the little girl to keep her safe with him just made my heart and ovaries burst at the same time 🥺

I enjoyed these blurbs so much dude 💕 ily friend <3

stuffies for all. [fic collection.]

[disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read eun's full statement here.]

an | hi there friends! in celebration of the 5k stuffie writing contest i've been hosting on my blog, i wanted to put together a super special project with my own play(s) on the theme of stuffies, and i am so so excited and proud to present to you this collection of fics and blurbs! i thought it would be so fun to write out a little something for each of our favs, as well as a few of my more well established series! hopefully there's a little something here for everyone; thanks again so incredibly much for 5k followers- i love and appreciate each and every one of you! also, for any of the stuff you might be looking for regarding the contest, i added some quick links below <3

♡ contest info post

♡ contest masterlist

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scratchy. [blurb.]

summary | when your daddy has to shave his beloved beard for a new role, you and your favorite stuffed friend have a little too much fun with his new look. pairing | mustache!daddy!chris evans x little!reader warnings | pornstache chris :^), reader being a troll lol, just cute fluffy playful fun <3, mentions of oral (f receiving)

"Y/n- really? How long's he gonna wear that thing?" Chris chuckles as he slumps down beside you on the couch, nodding at the beloved plush monkey in your hands.

Raising an eyebrow at the man beside you for a moment, you straighten the fuzzy stick-on mustache against your little pal's fluffy face, reminding your daddy, "'Til you're done wearing it, too." Ever since Chris's beard was sacrificed for his latest role in an upcoming blockbuster, the silly little felt stickers have been littering your shared apartment, a delightful gift from one of your daddy's costars.

"Curse Seb for this one," Chris grunts as he picks up the half-used sheets of stickers from the coffee table in front of you two, shaking his head at the assortment of crazy shapes the 'staches came in.

Shaking your head, you move your monkey's limbs gently as you play, stating, "I think they're funny. Don't you think so too, Mr. Nana?" Making the animal's head nod in agreement, you humph in satisfaction. "Makes everything look like Daddy- so handsome."

"Well, I'm glad you think so, sweetheart," Chris concedes as he leans over to plant a kiss on your forehead, earning a soft giggle from you as you wiggle and pretend to squirm away, making Chris place a hand to his chest in mock offense.

"No kisses, Daddy- too scratchy," you remind him, placing Mr. Nana's hands on his imaginary hips as Chris takes his turn to raise a brow at you.

"Too scratchy, huh? That's strange," Chris shoots back playfully with a wink, "didn't seem to bother you this morning when those kisses were being planted between your thighs, pretty girl."

---

this one. [blurb.]

summary | in the rubble and debris of a mission failed, you and steve find a childhood buried. pairing | steve rogers x avenger!reader warnings | angst, canon-level violence, death of an (unknown) child, so sad, sad sad sad steve, steve blames himself, why did i write this,, , this is so sad help-

"Steve."

Your voice is out of place in the silence of the dim room. The walls are all but entirely collapsed in, the floor a jumbled mess of rubble and debris. The only light comes from a shattered window frame, broken glass shimmering from the sunlight as it sits scattered atop the wreckage.

"Steve," you say again. "We should go. They checked for bodies; survivors are already on their way to the hospital." He knows that. He also knows no one from this building survived. Taking a step forward, his boot lands on something soft. Bending down, he picks up a stuffed elephant, the fabric showing a much different kind of wear than what the explosions would've inflicted. Running his gloved finger over one of the toy's ears, he finds a pair of initials hand-stiched into the fabric, and that's all it takes. Without a word, Steve Rogers is brought to his knees.

You make one step forward, but no more than that. A lump is caught in your throat. Steve's tears are silent as they flood his burning cheeks.

"Steve," you try.

"Don't," he whispers, somehow the quietness of his voice worse than any loud, dramatic sob or wail could ever be.

"We did what we had to do, if had stood by and done nothing, hundreds more would've-"

"But this one," he cuts you off, holding up the abandoned stuffed animal in the light of the sun. "This one, y/n. That's too much. One is already too much."

"I know," you breathe, your heart pounding heavily in your hollow chest.

"I'm going to do better. For their sake," he says firmly, stuffing the toy away in his pocket as he rises back up to his feet. As he turns back to face you, you see his tears have dried down onto his cheeks, a look of determination now settled into his sharp features.

"Steve, you don't-"

"I do," he silences you, taking heavy steps back towards the door in which you both entered. "I do, and I will. For them," he pats his pocket, "for all of them. I owe it to them."

---

make it a promise.

summary | to celebrate your graduation from therapy, andy gets you the gift of a long-lost friend you thought you'd never see again, along with a life-long promise of continuing to restore all the things that were taken from you. pairing | boyfriend!andy barber x reader warnings | mental health themes, reader has childhood trauma (implied from parents), andy is just the sweetest most thoughtful ever, this is genuinely the sweetest thing i've ever written in my entire life like this fic genuinely healed my inner child in ways i never thought possible, gentle re-parenting statements (our favs!!!), proposal!! bc i have no chill hehe :^)!!

As you finish the last bites of the delicious pasta dish sitting before you, Andy smiles at you from across your shared kitchen table, the soft, low light provided by the candles scattered across the room perfectly illuminating his adoring gaze. "This was incredible, Andy; thank you," you tell him again, "it always is. I'm so glad I ended up with a man who can cook."

Chuckling, your boyfriend nods in agreement, murmuring softly as he always does in moments like this, "I love cooking for you, honey. Love doing anything I can to show you just how much I care about you."

Placing your fork down as you move your plate to the side, your gaze shifts up to meet his; eyes sparkling warmly, care and love overwhelm Andy's face, the joy the sight of you brings him in every way so perfectly and wonderfully apparent. "Y/n," he hums, reaching his hands out onto the table between you. Intertwining his fingers with yours, he strokes over the back of your left hand with the pad of his thumb, the simple gesture bringing you all the comfort in the world. "Y/n. You are... such a wonder to me, y/n. I thank the world for you every day. You make me so proud."

Before you know it, lines of tears have formed in your eyes, though you do your best to blink them away, not wanting to ruin such a special moment. Sensing your swell in emotions, Andy chuckles gently, reminding you, "It's okay, sweetheart. It's okay to cry, remember? Even when we're happy, it's always okay to cry. I love you, and I love how deeply, how fully you feel things. I love how you listen, how you trust the words I'm saying."

"You let me trust them, Andy. You show me you mean them," you point out, a small smile gracing your lips as your eyes shine with sincerity.

"And I want to keep showing you. Every day, sweet girl," Andy replies lovingly, planting a kiss on the back of your hand before pulling away to bend over to the side of his chair, reaching down to pull up the brown paper bag he hid before the meal. "Starting with this," he says as he places the gift on the table before you. "I wanted to get you something extra special to celebrate your graduation from therapy; it took me a while to find it, but it was well worth the time and effort in the end. This is for you, sweetheart. Go ahead and open it up."

Hands moving carefully, you begin to untie the little red bow holding the handles of the bag together, gently removing the white tissue paper from the top before reaching down inside. Your hands are met with a soft, furry texture, and in a moment of surreal realization, your body almost seems to recognize what you're holding before you've even pulled it out of the bag.

Two wide, shining eyes meet yours as you hold up the cream-colored bunny, another round of tears overflowing down your cheeks as you let out a gasp, "This- Andy. How... wh-where did you find him?"

"Like I said, it was quite the search," the man smiles softly as he sits across from you, watching the beautiful sight of you receiving the gift unfolding before him like a scene from a movie. "He isn't the original, of course. But I just couldn't stop thinking about him after you showed me those pictures and told me his story," Andy recalls back to a few years prior when the two of you had been looking through old photo albums of your childhood. He had spotted the same stuffed rabbit, over and over through the photos, which prompted him to ask who he was. You had recounted the story of the bunny through tears, explaining how he was your only friend, the most important thing you owned, and how he was torn away from you and destroyed by the very people who were supposed to care for you, the people who did everything but. "This one's brand new, one of the last made by the manufacturer before they discontinued production. He's all yours, honey. And no one will ever take him from you; I'll make absolute sure of it. He's yours forever."

Eyes shifting to meet Andy's, you have to restrain yourself from nearly throwing your body against his from across the table. Sensing your need to be held and desire for contact, he rises from his chair, guiding you up from the table and over to the couch where he settles with you in his lap, cradling you as you cling to him and your long-lost friend. "Andy- I-..." your voice catches in your throat as you struggle to form words, "th-this is the best gift I've ever been given. I-... I don't know how to explain how much this means to me. Thank you, Andy. Thank you," you swallow down a sob as the man rocks you gently from side to side.

"Of course, sweetheart. It means everything to me to be able to give him back to you; that's all I wanna do, baby. Wanna keep giving you back all those things that were taken from you, keep filling your life with the joy you always deserved."

Running your hands over the bunny's lush fur as you hold him carefully in your lap, you notice that he, himself is holding a little brown bag. "Oh?" you wonder aloud quietly, carefully removing it from the rabbit's paw.

"Mhmm," Andy hums, smiling lovingly at your discovery, "he's got one more gift for you, lovebug. Go ahead, you can open it," he encourages, prompting you to turn the miniature bag upside down, causing a small velvet box to pop out onto your lap.

Eyes locked on the object, your heart stops dead in your chest. With trembling hands, you pick it up, holding it closed before you as you fail to make a single sound. Placing his larger hands over your own, Andy speaks for you, "I'm guessing you know what this is," he admits a little sheepishly, "I'm surprised I could find a bag the right size to hold it. Here's my other gift to you, sweetheart. I'd like to, if you'd let me-" your eyes widen as he opens the box, revealing the most beautiful ring with dazzling stones that sparkle almost magically in the candlelight, "-I'd like to keep doing this with you, helping you piece back together everything that feels broken. Loving you through all your days, happy and sad, being the one to always remind you how special and important you are- every day. And I'd like to make it a promise."

"A promise," you whisper back to him as he gently slips the ring onto your hand, "our promise."

"That's right, sweet girl," Andy murmurs, planting a kiss on your forehead as you clutch your hand close to your heart. "Our promise."

---

useless toys. [blurb.]

summary | ransom's a cruel daddy; when he finds you playing with yourself while clutching your favorite stuffed toy, he decides you've got all the help you should need right in your arms. pairing | daddy!ransom drysdale x little!reader warnings | oof ouch owwy- filth :'-), mean!daddy!ransom, f masturbation (ransom instructs reader what to do), stuffie riding? is that a thing? it is now, crying, mocking/lots of degradation, name-calling, squirting

Tears trailing down your cheeks, you whine needily, your fingers rubbing almost uselessly at your puffy folds as Ransom stands cruelly at the foot of the bed, arms crossed in disappointment as he watches you.

"What's all this crying for now, huh? Isn't this what you wanted?" the man snaps as he raises his brow expectantly at you, earning a frustrated huff as you shake your head. "No? That's not what it looked like when I walked in here to find you playing with my pussy, my toy so selfishly, is it?" he tests.

"N-no Daddy, 'm sorry- s-so sorry Daddy," your voice wobbles as you rub pathetically at your engorged clit, earning a mocking laugh from your daddy as he watches you struggle to get yourself off.

"That's it, keep rubbing that button, princess. You wanted to be such a slutty little whore all on your own, well go ahead and do it, then. I'm not stopping you."

"P-please Daddy," you cry, squeezing your favorite stuffed puppy close to you under one arm as you rub, rub, rub ever so frantically.

"Uh-uh-uh, sweetheart. I don't wanna hear any of that begging; you did this to yourself. Daddy would've gladly helped you if you just would've asked, but you're just a dumb little baby- aren't you? So fucking stupid, never learned to ask for the things you want."

Hands coming to a stop over your dripping cunt, you sob in defeat. "So fucking pathetic," Ransom spits. "Come on, you pathetic fucking whore. You wanted to run the show- well, I wanna watch. You're not stopping 'til that pussy cums for me."

"P-please Daddy," you whimper, rising to your knees, "please make me cum; I'll be so good- I'll never touch myself again!"

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard that one before," Ransom dismisses your attempts at swaying him, shaking his head. "Not gonna work, sweetheart. Come on now; I'm getting bored. You were so sure you could do it all by yourself, you and Mr. Spots- then let's see it, princess. Show me how good that useless stuffed piece of garbage can make you feel."

Cheeks burning in humiliation, you understand his demand, placing the poor animal between your legs as you rock shamelessly against it, the plush fabric rubbing embarrassingly nicely against your swollen heat. Panting as the friction builds against your burning bundle of nerves, you reach down to part your lips, allowing all your most tender places to rub right up against the slick fur of the now filthied animal. "Fuck, look so fucking desperate, you miserable little slut. Come on, cum on it. Cum for Daddy, that's it-"

Heaving, your coil snaps, your orgasm drenching the object beneath you as you ride out your high. "There, just like that," Ransom laughs as your thighs tremble, struggling to keep you upright. "Filthy whore, takes nothing to make you a sobbing mess. Now clean yourself up, sweetheart," he demands as you float back down gradually from your peak. "You made quite the mess; I think Mr. Spots needs a trip to the dry cleaners."

---

out of sight.

summary | discovering a rag doll amongst the clutter of the tail-end leads curtis to finding another little friend in need of care. pairing | curtis everett x child!oc (un-named, unspecified) warnings | curtis is rough but then, ,, so soft, mild mentions of canon-level violence, neglect, unsafe conditions for a child, big hurt/comfort vibes, i love soft curtis i would die for soft curtis, me struggling to not make this into its own safe!dad series :'^)

"C'mon, is this how we run things around here?" Curtis huffs under his breath, his brow drawn in disappointment and annoyance as he kicks through the piles of trash scattered across the boards of the train's floor. Hanging their heads in shame, the older boys shake their heads in response, offering a jumble of muttered apologies. No one likes to piss off Curtis, not even the tail-end's delinquents. Everyone knows he wants what's best for the car of castaways, even if he isn't always the nicest about pushing his agenda.

"We can help you clean it up-" one of the boys offers, only to be waved away by the grumbling man.

"No, just get out of here. I'll do it myself- you'll only make my job harder." Nodding quietly, the group grants Curtis his request, leaving him alone in one of the back cabins of bunks amongst the hoard of junk.

"Jesus," he curses to himself as a shard of broken glass shatters beneath the heavy weight of his boot. "Where the hell do they even get this shit?" His eyes trail over the broken bottles, piles of dirty clothes, scattered playing cards, old magazines... until something peeking out from under the bedskirt of the bottom bunk catches his attention- what looks to be a few locks of golden yarn hair.

"Huh?" he hums to himself, crouching down as he tugs the object carefully out from under the skirt. A look of perplexion forms on his face at the sight of the little cloth doll, its worn body just barely covered up by a scrap of blue fabric wrapped haphazardly around it to form some sort of dress or robe. Brown button eyes are sewn onto the object's face along with a tiny white flower made out of thread on one of the cheeks, dirt smudged through its hair and across its body; gaze softening, Curtis concludes the toy has been well used, and well loved. "But why would one of them have something like this?" Curtis wonders quietly aloud to himself.

Before he can come up with an answer, a flash of movement catches his eye; a tiny hand reaching out from under the beige fabric hanging down from the bunk's frame, its small fingers grabbing at the air as if to look for the thing that was once there. Reaching out silently, cautiously, Curtis lifts up the bedskirt to uncover a surprising sight: a pair of soft brown eyes peeking out at him from under the bed. Tucked amongst a few blankets, a little girl stares back up at the man, startling him when she reaches her hand out once again, her eyes locking on the doll in his hands.

"Oh- here. This must be yours," Curtis stumbles over his words as he returns the toy to its owner, his heart pounding faintly in his ears as he tries to wrap his head around the scene before him. "I, uh- I'm sorry I took it. I didn't know you were under there." The girl remains quiet, tucking the doll under her arms as she rests against the piles of fabric beneath her. "What are you doing under there?" Curtis ventures to ask, not surprised when he's met with more silence. "Do you know those boys?"

Hesitance shining in her eyes, the child nods. "I see," Curtis murmurs. "They let you hang out under there?"

"Mhm," the girl hums, the softness of her voice breaking Curtis's heart a little. "They let me stay, keep me safe."

"That's nice of them," the man tries to smile gently, though his voice is laced with concern. "But it doesn't look too comfortable, all crumpled up under there. Where're your parents, sweetheart? Your mommy or daddy?"

Eyes widening, the little one goes quiet at this. With his suspicions confirmed, Curtis nods sadly, not needing an explanation. It isn't uncommon for children to be parentless in the tail-end; the cruel guards who police the community are much more likely to take adults over kids as their own sick form of population control. Realizing the girl must have no choice but to rely on the rowdy group of teens to survive, Curtis makes his decision without a split second of hesitation.

"Here- com'ere," the man coos softly, reaching out a hand to the child. Shakily, she accepts it, allowing him to help her out from under the bed's low frame. Once she's standing before him, the direness of her situation only becomes more apparent. She's a tiny thing, still much shorter than Curtis even as he's crouched down onto his knees, and she appears to be little more than skin and bones. Judging by her size, she can't be much older than four or five. Trembling a bit beneath the strange man's gaze, her eyes have filled with a few unshed tears. "It's alright," Curtis hums gently, still holding onto the girl's hand. "Those boys mean well, but they're just kids themselves. How about you come with me, sweetheart, and I can keep you safe."

Eyes widening at the offer, the little one brushes her dirty blonde hair back from her face, nodding carefully. "Yes please," she agrees.

Curtis offers her a friendly smile, rising back up to his feet as he guides the girl out of the cabin, all thoughts of cleaning the mess disappearing from his mind. "You look like you could use some new clothes," he suggests as the two make their way through the crowded train car together. "I've got some t-shirts that should fit you like dresses."

"And something for Daisy?" the child asks hopefully as she holds up her doll, Curtis's expression softening as he learns the toy's name.

"Sure, I bet we can find something for Daisy."

---

bring-a-furry-friend day.

summary | of course mary would wait until the night-before to tell frank she needs a stuffed animal to bring to school for bring-a-furry-friend day. of course she would. pairing | frank adler x mary adler warnings | my first time ever writing canon-ish for gifted, frank is a grump but we love him, me struggling to write mary's intelligence, mary being deadpan and unbothered, mentions of surgery on a stuffed animal lol

"I'm really sorry, Frank," Mary says for probably the tenth time as she kicks the toe of her mary-jane against the metal bar of the shopping cart as she rides along backwards-facing, frowning at the permanent look of displeasure splayed across her uncle's face as he pushes her through the aisles of the supermarket. "I didn't know Roberta'd be gone tonight- I was planning on getting her to take me. And we needed groceries anyway," the kid points out.

"I was gonna go get them tomorrow; you know, at a more reasonable hour," Frank rationalizes as he glances up to read the over-head signs, looking for wherever the hell all the kid's stuff might be.

"Why'd we come to this place, anyway?" Mary asks, scrunching up her face at the unfamiliar surroundings. "I like our normal store better."

"Because our 'normal store' is closed," Frank informs her as the pair make their way to the colorful displays of toys and clothes, all the bright lights and cheery sounds making the man a little sick to his stomach. Though if he's being quite honest, he's probably putting up a grumpy front just for show at this point more than anything else. If the worst Mary can do is ask to be taken to the store the night before she needs something for school, he figures he's probably gotten off easy in the parenting department. "You see anything you like?" he asks as he slows the cart to a stop in front of a large display of stuffed animals.

"You were gonna go tomorrow, without me?" Mary frowns again, a hint of hurt evident in her voice. "We always go together- that's how you make sure you don't forget stuff. Did you write a list this time?"

"No, Mary, but that's beside the point. C'mon, take a look. They've got plenty of options here; pick whichever one you want," the man tries to gently refocus the child.

Still caught up in her own thoughts, Mary continues to ramble on, "But you almost forgot the eggs, remember? You walked right past them when entered the store; Fred would've been so sad if he had to go all week without his eggs."

"I'm sure he would be, and you're right- we do the shopping together. That's how I remember things. I promise I won't plan on going without you again, okay? Now can we pick something out?" Frank continues to try, glancing at his watch, "we don't have much time before this place closes, too."

"Whichever one I want?" the little girl asks quietly, finally turning her attention to the ensemble of plush toys before her. Scanning row by row, another look of dissatisfaction graces her expressive face. "Why do we have to have Bring-A-Furry-Friend day, anyway? Why can't we bring something more interesting- the stuff I play with's way more fun than any of this crap," she rolls her eyes as she runs a hand over one peculiar-looking giraffe's crooked neck.

"Because most kids your age like stuffed animals," Frank explains, "if you picked a theme for the day, I'm not sure any of your friends would have stuff to bring. Do you like this one?" he asks, trying to move the process along as he picks up an olive green turtle.

Mary shakes her head. "No, his anatomy's not right. He's supposed to be a turtle, he has a turtle shell and he's green, but his feet aren't webbed; he's actually a tortoise. Why couldn't we bring books to share instead?" she continues to jump topics, her brain moving too fast for her own good as it so often does.

"Because you'd bring some old American Realism novel that'd probably send your peers into whatever the seven-year-old equivalent of an existential crisis is, while everyone else would be reading Dr. Seuss."

"Yuck, Dr. Seuss- I hate that guy," Mary turns up her nose at the suggestion.

Frank struggles not to laugh as he reminds her, "Hey, we don't hate people. We-"

"Right, right- sorry. I dislike that guy; I think his stories are pointless."

"I know," Frank nods with a small chuckle, "you made that very clear when the mystery reader came in last month with Green Eggs and Ham, remember that whole ordeal?"

"Fraaank, c'mon. I gave him a really good apology, remember?" the girl sighs in exasperation, "he totally believed my puppy-dog eyes and pouty lip- just like you taught me!"

"Yeah, but that was after you stood up in the middle of storytime, unprompted, and went on a whole tangent about how the book wasn't accurate due to the color of the eggs- that was the whole point, Mary. The point is that it's silly, that it's fun."

"Yeah, well... I don't think being wrong is fun," the child decides, her eyes lighting up a bit as they land on a fluffy brown cat. Reaching up to take it off the shelf, she holds it out in front of her, frowning the tiniest bit when she notices, "He does have two eyes, unfortunately. We'll have to pull one out so he's cool like Fred."

Shaking his head, Frank can only watch the with one hand to his mouth as he does his best not to smile at the girl's undeniable adorableness. "Alright, sure. We'll perform a little surgery before bedtime tonight," he agrees. "That one anatomically-correct enough for you?"

Mary nods, tossing the toy in the cart as Frank begins pushing again, heading back towards the entrance to the store. "The blue eyes are a little questionable; most brown cats have brown or green eyes, I think. But I suppose blue's not genetically impossible, just improbable," she informs him.

"Oh, well," Frank chuckles at the girl's endearing quirkiness. "I'm glad you're willing to be a little flexible there."

"Yeah, I guess I'm trying to just let it be fun," she tells him. "A rare gene, most likely recessive, beating the odds and presenting. I guess that's fun, right? My friends'll think that's fun."

"I'm sure they will, kiddo," Frank nods, doing his best to just leave it at that.

---

friend-making. [blurb.]

summary | the world's grumpiest supersoldier makes his first trip to build-a-bear. pairing | boyfriend!bucky barnes x reader warnings | big grumpy & sunshine vibes and we love to see it, it's been a while since i was in a build a bear so i don't remember exactly how the process goes, this poor build a bear employee just trying to work for minimum wage having to put up with all these shenanigans

Doing her best not grimace at Bucky's unfriendly stare, the peppy blonde teen adorned in her signature blue apron does her best to smile at you and your grouch of a boyfriend from across the bear making station as she holds your shared freshly-stuffed pink frog, telling you almost sheepishly, "Okay, and now that your new friends is all filled with fluff, it's time for the heart ceremony!"

"The what?" Bucky asks, his perplexion at the whole process only growing with each new step you're guided through. You don't blame him; you know he comes from a much different time. When the two of you first arrived at the brightly-themed store, he could barely form words for the first several minutes as he took in his surroundings. "High heels? For teddy bears?" he had asked dumbfoundedly as you had passed the clothing section of the workshop. "Steve was right, the future is crazy."

"The heart ceremony!" the young girl tries to share a smile as she holds up a small stuffed heart, explaining, "this is your new friend's heart; we put it in him to make sure he's full of lots of love to give you!"

"I see," Bucky says slowly, a look of doubt crossing his face as he accepts the little red item from the girl to hold in his hand.

"Alrighty, let's just-" Opening up his back stitch slightly, the worker allows Bucky to tuck the heart in amongst the stuffing, giving the froggy a good pat on the back before tying him up securely with his long white threads. "Perfect! And now it's time for your new friend's very first hug!"

"Oh great," Bucky tries not to sound overly exasperated. "I think this part's your turn, dove," he chuckles as he allows you to take the stuffed animal from the girl.

"Okay, and now we're just gonna give our friend a nice big hug to make sure he knows he's so special and loved!" Smiling widely and giggling a bit as Bucky's gaze catches yours, you hug the frog, earning a more enthusiastic grin from the girl across the counter. "Very good!" she cheers, looking between the two of you, "Now how about a name for his birth certificate?"

"His birth certificate? I don't even know if I have one of those," Bucky admits, watching in awe as the employee pulls up the form on her computer screen. "What're you thinking, sweetheart? We both know I'm no good at names."

"How about Princess Pinky Rainbow Sparkles!" you beam proudly, giggling even more as Bucky struggles to suppress his groan.

"What a wonderful name!" the worker chimes in, typing it up in the computer. "Now it's just time to go pick out some clothes for your new friend, if you'll follow me this way!"

Leaning in to whisper in your ear as the three of you make your way across the store, Bucky asks a bit timidly, "Hey doll, you think we could pick out the army outfit?" Heart melting a bit at his adorableness, you nod encouragingly. "Thanks," he mumbles, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Stevie's gonna think it's super cool."

---

forever and a day | earth's tiniest heroes.

series masterlist

summary | after learning to make finger puppets, willa makes a special trip to the tower with gifts in hand for all her friends. pairing | willa rogers (oc) x the avengers warnings | written from steve's pov, just willa being the sweetest little being that ever did exist, so fluffy and cute and adorable, steve is the proudest dad ever, willa made one for tony even tho he takes a "trip" when he hears they're coming :'^)

"You're first, Peter!" Willa cheers excitedly as she sits in the center of the circle the group's formed around her on the rug of the fiftieth floor's living space. Reaching into her ladybug backpack, she pulls out a Spiderman-themed puppet, complete with little webs made of string coming from the hands.

"Oh wow, Wil- this is so cool!" Peter's eyes widen in awe as he takes the gift from the little girl to hold carefully in his hands, appearing too worried he might break something to put it on.

"C'mon, goes on your finger!" the child giggles as she helps her friend place the piece of fitted red fabric over his pointer finger, a huge smile spreading across his face.

"Wow, it looks just like my spidey suit!" the teen enthuses as he wiggles his finger, "you did such a great job! Thank you, Willa."

After giving her best friend a quick hug, she moves on to the next person in the circle, her now great pal, the God of Thunder. When the girl reaches into her bag and pulls out a very mighty-looking Asgardian puppet with a tiny hammer dangling from its hand, Thor's face fills with delight as he tells her, "That is a marvelous looking creation, little friend. Is that meant to be me?"

"Yes!" Willa beams, bouncing excitedly in front of her ginormous friend. "And even has your hammer, look! Thor puppet's worthy, too!"

"He is, indeed," the god marvels as he places the puppet on his finger, a brilliant smile gracing his face as his gaze meets the child's. "Thank you, Willa. I shall treasure him forever."

Wanda's next, an excited gasp leaving the older girl as she watches the little one pull a Scarlet Witch puppet from her bag. "Oh my goodness, Willa. This is so stunning. You made my outfit just right," she gushes as she slips the puppet on. "It's beautiful, darling. Thank you so much."

Nat's face softens when she sees a Black Widow puppet being taken out next, her black leather stealth suit catching her eye as she grins at the little girl, "Now that's a good-looking puppet. I'd know that suit anywhere- how'd you make it look so much like me?"

"Daddy helped," Willa smiles happily as she hands over the gift, her face lighting up as Nat puts it on to show the group.

"Well your Daddy has great taste in leather," Nat winks at me as Willa moves on, pulling out a scruffier-looking puppet with messy brown hair, a tiny bow and arrow attached to one of the hands.

"Hey- I know that guy!" Clint chimes in as he graciously accepts the present from the girl. "Thanks a ton, kiddo! This rocks- I gotta show the kids when they call tonight!"

"Say hi to Lila for me," Willa requests with a smile as she gives the archer a hug before returning to her bag, the next puppet she pulls wearing a blackish-red outfit with a wide set of wings.

"Aww, hell yeah," Sam cheers, brows flaring playfully as he catches his own slip-up. "I mean- awesome, that looks awesome, sweetheart. You make this just for me?"

"Jus' for you, Sammy!" Willa confirms happily as she helps her friend wiggle the little figure onto his finger. "Look, can make him fly!" she shows him by moving his hand through the air in swooping motions.

"Now that's really awesome," the man laughs, planting a kiss on the girl's temple as he wraps her in a hug. "Thank you so much, sweetheart. I'm gonna put him right up on my dresser next to Redwing; they're gonna look sick together."

"Totally sick!" Willa agrees as she returns to her bag, pulling out one of the last puppets from the bottom. "This one's special, he's got a PhB."

"D," I correct her with a chuckle, the faces around the circle filling with love and amusement as they watch the little girl hold up the black-haired puppet dressed in a lab coat.

"A PhD," the child repeats, "and a s'ethescope."

"That must be for me, then!" Bruce pipes up as he scoots closer to the girl to accept the present. Once it's secured onto his finger, he wiggles it a big, joking, "Have you been eating your apples, Ms. Willa?"

"Every day!" she promises with a light-hearted giggle. When she peers back into her bag once more, though, something shifts on her face, a bit of sadness shining in her eyes as she looks up at me. "Daddy?" she asks quietly.

"What's up, lovebug?" I murmur gently, moving up to join her in the middle of the circle. Cheeks turning pink, the little girl opens up her bag for me to look inside. When I catch sight of the last puppet at the bottom, my heart breaks a little in my chest. I didn't even know she had made one more.

"Tony's on a trip, sweetheart," I tell her softly, pulling her onto my lap as I rub her back carefully, "but that was so thoughtful for you to make one for him, too. I bet we can leave it here for him, and he'll get it whenever he comes back.

Looks of sadness and patient understanding have formed around the circle as Bruce scoots in near us, offering, "Here, I can keep it safe for him. Wow- you made him a lab coat just like me! He's gonna love that we're matching."

"P'omise you'll give it to him?" the girl asks carefully.

"Promise," he nods, tucking the puppet safely into his pocket. "He's gonna think it's so cool, Willa. I'll bet he wishes he could've been here to see you today, maybe you can see him next time."

---

softie | like father, like daughter.

series masterlist

summary | when sheepy needs a run through the wash, ransom lets georgia borrow his own little friend for the day. pairing | soft!dad!ransom drysdale x georgia pine (oc) warnings | georgia also being the sweetest little friend, sheepy gets some food spills and has to face the dreaded washer, soft!ransom, just so fucking cute it hurts, kind of hurt/comfort vibes

"Oh Georgie, it's okay-" Ransom soothes as he crouches down beside the little girl, his heart breaking a bit in his chest at the sight of her wide bambi eyes overflowing with tears. "It was just an accident, sweetheart. It's alright. Here," he murmurs, collecting the child's toy from her hands into his own as she struggles to swallow down her sobs.

"D-didn' mean to," the girl whimpers as she eyes her prized Sheepy, whose tummy is now covered in sticky strawberry jam.

"I know you didn't, sweetie. It's okay, we're gonna get Sheepy all washed up and he'll be good as new, yeah? Just gotta toss him in the washer real fast; he'll be done and dry by bedtime tonight." Nodding with wide eyes, little Georgia follows her father as he takes her hand, guiding her to the washing machine in the closet next to the main-floor washroom.

"Here we go, Georgie. Look, I've got a nice little bag he can sit in so he's all safe in the machine, okay?" Ransom shows the child as he crouches down once more, letting her help him place the beloved toy in the delicates bag before zipping it up. "And we'll put plenty of those detergent beads you like so much in there, the ones that smell like sugar cookies, remember?" Georgia nods as she watches her daddy toss the bag and the beads in the bottom machine, her eyes widening as it roars to life after the pressing of a few buttons. "It's okay, sweetheart. He's just getting a nice bath in there," the man reassures her as he brushes her puffy hair back away from her face, hating the sight of her so upset.

"Oh- and you know what? I think I know someone else who could keep you company 'til Sheepy's cycles are done." Taking the little girl's hand once more, he leads her up to his bedroom, going into his large closet to retrieve one of the many cardboard boxes stacked along the top shelves beneath the ceiling.

Bringing the box back down to place on the floor in front of Georgia, Ransom opens it up, pulling out an old worn stuffed animal of his own, something he hasn't taken out since it was stuffed away so long ago at the end of his childhood. "Georgia, meet Lamby."

With wide eyes, the girl accepts the small animal in her hands, her eyes drying up as she sniffles away the last of her tears. "Lamby," she repeats, her gaze trailing carefully over the light-grey fabric.

"That's right, he's a little guy just like your Sheepy. Seems like maybe I was a lot like you when I was little," Ransom chuckles as he takes in the wonderful sight of his daughter holding his life-long best friend. Wrapping the lamb up in her arms, Georgia gives him a big hug, nestling her nose against the toy's fluff.

"Smells like Daddy," she hums softly, her eyes getting a little droopy as she clings to the stuffie.

"Yeah? I bet he does, we spent many nights snuggled up for bedtime. Many naps, too. And speaking of, looks like it's just about time for yours, little lady," Ransom smiles gently as he scoops the small girl up along with the stuffed animal, his heart swelling in his chest as she snuggles up into his shoulder. "By the time you get up, Sheepy will be switched into the dryer."

"Can't wait for him to meet Lamby," Georgia mumbles as she tucks her thumb in her mouth, struggling to blink to keep herself away. "Gonna be bes' friends. Daddy, Lamby, Sheepy, 'n me."

---

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babyjakes · 5 months ago

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summertime writers ask: 🌸🍰🍓

btw i’m so happy to see you on my dash again. sending you lots of love! 💜

hi sweet rach it’s great to see you, hope all is well and thanks for sending these in!! ☀️🎈💕

🌸 wip i’ve been working on the longest: faad for sure, i think i started writing for it back in 2019? i distinctly remember being in my old bedroom at my parents house and writing that story 🥺 i had just graduated high school, i was getting ready for college, i had my whole life ahead of me 🤧

🍰 where i like to write: one other place i do sometimes write is at the house of the boys that i used to nanny. i still babysit sometimes and when they’re napping or sleeping, i love to pull out my laptop and write soft safe domestic fluff or hurt/comfort or whatever hehe 😇

🍓 worst thing i’ve done to my characters: bro i feel like the person who wrote the ask game must’ve read faad bc 🌝 i put willa THROUGH IT 😭 was it the scene where the winter soldier tortured and beat her up? (when she was like??? 4 years old or something??) that one always sticks out to me LOL. ik parts 47-48 were pretty bad (if you know you know 🥲) but the winter soldier scene just feels like the worst to me bc i actually wrote it out, in vivid detail 🤩

☀️ i’m answering summertime writer asks ☀️

#eun replies #we love rach #ask game #summertime writer asks #faad

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babyjakes · 1 year ago

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Oh my gosh the last chapter of FAAD just absolutely broke my heart 😭😭😭 Poor baby Willa! And poor Steve. They’re both going through such a hard time. I’m sure Steve is gonna figure things out, but it’s gonna hurt so much in the meantime 🥺 (although it was very satisfying in a bittersweet sorta way to see that Willa feels safe enough to snap at Steve and to feel angry)

I’m gonna be on the edge of my seat until the next chapter!

🫧 anon

ahhh thanks for reading friend i’m so glad you enjoyed this part 🥺🫶 yes!! it’s such a bittersweet feeling to see her starting to process everything, there’s some more healing between her and steve coming up that’ll help soothe the pain of her struggling 💜 i’m so glad you’re still enjoying the series!! i was a little nervous about posting more, i know this project has been going on for soooo long and my updates have been all over the place 😅

#eun replies #faad #faad: you didn’t #🫧 anon

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babyjakes · 2 years ago

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hi eun! usually i don't read fics with original characters or in chapters (only for a matter of time, sometimes i dedicate my morning to fics with chapters). since your stories are a huge comfort for my mental health when i'm in dark places i decided to read the fics in chapters you have on your masterlist!

i read forever and a day and i don't have words to express how much i loved it. i read it all in like one day and it got me crying too

so i just wanted to compliment you on your stories and tell you i'm looking forward to ever green evermore!

p.s. when i first started faad i was confused seeing tony stark in the trigger warning but then him wanting to be a father figure to willa (especially knowing your hate for him) then i went on with chapters and understood the reason why 🫥

omg 🥺 this means so much to me thankyou! i’m so glad you enjoyed. tbh going back and reading faad always feels rough for me at this point just bc i’m not at all a fan of the first person pov anymore 😭 so i’m glad to hear some friends at least still find it readable 🤧 lol yeahhhh tony is such a doozy in that one, sometimes i can’t believe all the stuff i made him do 😅 i’m so glad you’re excited for egem! it’s gonna be hopefully just as comforting and helpful, yet also new and exciting (and much better written lol)

#eun replies #faad #egem

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babyjakes · 2 years ago

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i just got around to reading Softie (i know I'm sorry 😭) and OMG I LOVE IT SO MUCH 😻 Georgia is so cute and precious i love her 😭😭 also new faad???

aaawwwww yay, softie’s the best hehe 🥺🫶 like faad but waaaay better lol, but yes there will be a new part of faad out today 😌 we’re getting some bucky & willa content!

#eun replies #faad #softie

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babyjakes · 2 years ago

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Oh my god🥺 the new chapter of faad was so sad but wholesome at the same time 🥺

"N-no collar," she says carefully, the fear almost completely gone from her voice.

To see a bit of the process Willa made with Steve just makes me cry happy tears but also sad ones. Or the last paragraph just 🥺🥺

yes!!! love to see her moving forward with him 🥰 and the last paragraph hehe 🥺 needed to sneak in a little stucky action of course!!!

#eun replies #faad

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babyjakes · 2 years ago

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I absolutely love the new chapter of faad, Eun!!! ❤️ It was so sweet to see Steve care for Willa! 🥺 And when she asked him for snuggles? My heart melted!!! ❤️🥺

aww thanks for the love on the new chapter friend 🥺 yes, she’s so so sweet, the first thing she could think of when asked what she wanted from daddy was just snuggles 🥺🫶

#eun replies #faad

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babyjakes · 2 years ago

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If your down for it I’d love more faad because I love willa and Steve’s relationship 🥹❤️

i miss them 🥺 it’s been so long!

#eun replies #we love chrisevansdaughter #faad

0 notes

babyjakes · 3 years ago

Text

forever and a day | 34. willa's.

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

← last chapter | series masterlist | next chapter →

summary | a story in which america’s favorite captain gives a new life and family to a five-year-old girl who has suffered well beyond her years at the hands of hydra.

characters | dad!steve rogers, girl/willa rogers (original character)

warnings | AU similar enough to OU to include spoilers to many Marvel movies (Age of Ultron and beyond). action and fight scenes with violence and killing. injuries/mild gore. mature themes related to and semi-graphic depictions of child abuse/neglect, past CSA and CSM, and their aftermath (emaciation, wounds, scarring, etc). medical abuse and experimentation. ptsd/trauma symptoms in a child (developmental discrepancies, de-humanized behavior, detachment, extreme fears). medical treatment of CSM and other aftermath of abuse.trauma-informed therapeutic treatment of ECT. minor mentions of disordered eating. evil!Tony Stark.

[Steve]

After about an hour or so of addressing her wounds, Willa fell right asleep on the make-shift cot. I’ve wrapped her up in a blanket and placed another under her head, folded up as a pillow. The poor girl cried the entire time. She didn’t say much, just cried. With the amount of pain she seemed to be in, it didn’t surprise me that she was struggling to form words. Fortunately, I guess, Tony’s blasters didn’t do much more than surface damage. While the kid’s got some pretty nasty burns, I didn’t detect any critical injuries. That doesn’t mean, though, that she’s in any way alright. This was a big hit for her to take, especially from Tony. I get that he was trying to shoot at me, but at the end of the day, he shouldn’t have been shooting at all.

After packing the last of the medical supplies back into the storage compartments, I make my way to the front of the ship to find Bucky. He’s sitting in the pilot’s seat, staring straight ahead as the world flies by through the window. I come up beside him and take the seat to his right, not saying anything at first. He’s silent as well; he doesn’t even turn to look at me, but I can tell he’s aware of my presence.

“How is she?” he asks after several more minutes of silence.

“Asleep,” I reply simply, shifting slightly in the uncomfortable seat.

“What kind of damage did Tony do?”

“Burns,” I tell him. “Nothing more, at least from what I could tell.”

“I can take a look at her too, when we land,” Buck offers. I nod.

“Did you put the plane in stealth mode?” I check.

“Yep. No way in hell they’ll find us,” my friend assures me. I sigh, thinking silently to myself, he better be right. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my phone. Ten missed calls from Tony Stark. Unlocking the screen, I pull up his contact. With shaking fingers, I silence his notifications. Whatever he might have to say, I don’t want to hear it. Unless it’s an apology, but I know it’s not.

Shoving the device back in my pocket, I sigh again, gazing aimlessly out of the window in front of me. “She took that hit for me, Buck,” I say quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. The man’s expression softens slightly as he looks over at me, his grey-blue eyes meeting mine.

“I know,” he nods roughly. “I thought it was gonna kill her.”

“I did too,” I admit, heartbreak building up in my chest. “It very well could have. If it had been a blast from Wanda, or Vision-”

“They wouldn’t shoot at you like that,” Bucky argues. “Tony’s reached a new level of dangerous. His side’s entire objective was to stop us, just stop us. When he pointed his fist at you like that, the look in his eyes gave him away. He was firing to kill.” I look down at my lap, unsure of what to say. In the end, I’ll never truly know what Tony’s intent was. He had orders to bring us in, sure. But could Bucky be right? In that last moment, at his last chance to get me, was he coming for blood? “Maybe I’m not worth all this, Steve.” my friend’s voice trails off.

“Hey- no, okay? None of that. Of course you’re worth it, Buck; you know I’d do anything for you.”

“I know,” he says, swallowing hard. “Maybe that isn’t the best idea.”

“They’re trying to take you down for something you didn’t do. They want you locked up for the rest of your life; I can’t let them do that to you,” I try to reason with him.

“Maybe I belong locked up,” Buck mumbles. My heart drops in my chest as I look over to him. He keeps his gaze from meeting mine, staring straight ahead out of the window.

“Bucky- hey, listen to me. What you did- that wasn’t you,” I tell him sincerely . “They had control of your mind. You were a victim.”

“I know,” Bucky chokes out. “But I did it.”

Opening my mouth, I’m about to say more, but my phone ringing in my pocket stops me. I pull it out, the screen flashing a notification in front of me. Incoming call: Peter Parker.

“I’ve gotta take this,” I shake my head, standing up and stepping away from Bucky.

Venturing back into the jet, I find a chair in one of the rows of seats lining the walls. I take a long, deep breath before sliding across my phone screen to answer. “Peter?” I say warily, confused as to why the teen is calling me.

“Mr.- Ste- Cap- Captain?” the kid’s shaky voice responds, and I can instantly tell he’s in tears.

“Hey Peter,” I murmur, softening my voice. “What’s going on?”

“I-I’m sorry for c-calling you… the others don’t know; p-please don’t tell them,” he begs, his voice quivering. Pity builds in my chest for the young boy and I nod, even though he can’t see me.

“Okay, Pete. I won’t tell them. I promise, buddy. I won’t.” He sniffles, his breaths coming through loudly over the phone as he struggles to form his next words.

“I j-just- I need… is Willa okay? D-did she make it?” he asks, his voice cracking at the little girl’s name. A heartbroken smile faintly crosses my face at his question.

“Yeah, bud. She’s alright. She’s a little burnt up, but she’s gonna be just fine,” I assure him.

“I h-had no idea Mr. Stark w-would just shoot at you like that,” he admits coldly, the guilt evident in his voice. “H-he told me we were meeting you all there to bring you back, to bring you home. Then I found out that Tony wanted you in trouble.” I sigh, nodding. I had a pretty good feeling that Peter wasn’t in on all the details of our encounter. He showed little to no awareness of what he was actually doing, and given how much he clearly cares about us, I think he would’ve acted much differently if Tony had been straight with him. “I-I’m so sorry, sir. I never would’ve f-fought if-”

“Hey Peter, it’s okay. Alright? I know that Tony didn’t tell you the truth. I know how much you care about us, about Willa.”

“P-please don’t hate me, Ste- I-I mean, C-Cap, sir,” Peter pleads, his voice shaking in desperation.

“Never, buddy. I could never hate you. You’re alright, Peter. Things are just fine between you and me, and between you and Bucky and you and Willa, too.”

“O-okay,” the kid breathes, his voice coming down a little bit, allowing me to relax slightly, glad to have been able to ease his anxieties. “I-I have to go, I don’t want anyone catching me on the phone with you. B-but if you guys need anything, if there’s anything I can do…”

“Thank you, Peter. Stay safe, alright?”

“Yes sir,” he agrees, and the line goes dead. I take a deep breath, returning the phone to my pocket. The more time passes, and the more things progress, I just become more and more upset with Tony. Our little disagreements have really escalated into situations I find unacceptable. There was the whole incident with Willa in the lab back at the tower. And now there’s been this confrontation, a literal split down the middle of the team, and Tony’s not even giving his side the truth? It’s only led to chaos and people getting hurt. Willa being blasted. Bucky questioning his worth. Peter becoming scared that I would abandon him.

I’m snapped out of my thoughts by movement appearing in front of me as I gaze off distractedly. Glancing up, I see that Willa’s appeared in front of me, her big green eyes wide and full of tears. Her body shakes as she stands, looking as if she’s struggling to keep herself upright.

“Hi sweetheart,” I greet the girl carefully, startled that she’s up by herself. I open my arms up for her and she warily enters them, standing between my legs as I sit on the edge of my seat, wrapping her up as gently as I can in my embrace while being sure to not touch her injuries. “What are you doing up all by yourself?” I ask.

“W-woke up and couldn’t find you,” Willa whimpers. I nod, stroking her hair gently. “I-I’m sorry,” she adds as she wraps her own arms around my midsection, trembling through her apology. “Please forgive me.”

“What’re you sorry for, Willa?” I ask, confused as to what she could possibly feel the need to apologize for.

“Y-you, I…” the child begins, her voice trailing off as she tilts her head to look up into my eyes. “You weren’t s'pposed t-to bring me with. Th-thought you’d leave me with the others,” she reveals. My eyebrows raise in alarm as I shake my head at her.

“You- what? You’re sorry that we brought you?” Willa nods. “Why, doll? It was always the plan to bring you; we weren’t just gonna leave leave you there- I wasn’t just gonna leave you.”

“T-Tony was- h-he tried to kill you,” the little girl sniffles, her words sinking deep into my stomach. “Th-that’s why I- you should’ve gotten out, sh-should’ve gotten away,” she mumbles, pressing herself into my shirt. My heart pounds heavily in my chest as I hold the child in my arms.

“You- that’s why you ran in front of me? To take the hit so that… so that we could leave without you?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Willa nods into my embrace, and an overwhelming sense of sadness and guilt settles in my gut. I guess what I can say is that if I had any doubt in my mind before about Willa’s love for me, it’s now surely vanished. She was clearly willing to risk everything for Bucky and I to get away. And to that, I don’t know what to say. The amount of love and care and selflessness wrapped up in this little five year old girl is truly unbelievable.

As gently as I can, I cup Willa’s uninjured cheek with my hand, tilting her head to lock her gaze with mine. “I love you, sweetheart. I want you to know that,” I tell her, and she nods. “You never needed to take that hit for me. The last thing I want you doing is putting yourself at risk for me, okay? It’s dangerous.”

“I-I’m sorry,” Willa stutters, tears building back up in her eyes. “P-please, I’m sorry.”

“Hey- no, don’t cry, honey. Shhh, don’t cry,” I croon, stroking my thumb against her cheek warmly. “I’m not angry with you. What you did back there meant the world to me, doll. I just want you to know that it’s my job to protect you. And if anything, it should be me jumping in to save you, okay?” The girl nods, sniffling down her sobs.

“St-Steve?” she asks.

“Hmm?”

“Like- like a mommy?” her little voice wavers, her eyes peering up into mine. The familiar words ring through my ears, and as I gaze into her eyes, through the watery pools of green, I see so much fear, so much hesitancy. But stronger than that, more than anything, I just see longing. Longing that’s been there for a while now.

“Like a mommy, that’s right,” I tell her warmly. “Protecting you and caring for you, loving you. Just like a mommy, sweetheart.”

Willa’s tiny hand raises up to point a single finger at me, then turning it around to point at herself, her eyebrows raise in question. And even though I can almost certainly tell what she’s asking, I decide to push her a little bit further, hoping that she’ll confirm it for me, just to be safe. “What do you mean, Willa?” I ask, nodding at her hand.

The wide-eyed child takes a deep breath, her bottom lip beginning to tremble. And as it does, it almost feels like the whole thing might be falling apart completely. She drops my gaze as tears flood her eyes, her breathing escalating rapidly. As she jerks back slightly in my arms, I instantly rush in to reassure her, “Hey, hey. Easy, sweetheart. Breathe for me,” I murmur, rubbing up and down her back soothingly. “Can you ask me, Willa? It’s safe for you to ask me,” I promise her. “I just want to hear it coming from you.”

Willa squeezes her eyes shut tightly, tears running down both of her cheeks. But just when I think I’ve lost my chance with her once more, she opens her mouth again, her words seeming to stumble out before she can stop them. “Y-you- be my- b-be mine? Th-that? Be- like a m-mommy, t-to me? M-my mommy- Willa’s m-mommy?”

A flood of grace and tenderness washes over me as I run my thumb over the precious girl’s cheek, almost trying to will her eyes to open with my mind. Somehow, it works, and my gaze locks with hers, relief and love shining through the green as she sees the smile forming on my face. “Okay, Willa. I’ll be that for you. Like your mommy. Willa’s.”

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#faad #faad: willa's #eun's writing #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers series #steve rogers au #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #hurt/comfort #steve rogers x child!oc #dad!steve rogers #the avengers #avengers fanfiction #mcu #mcu fanfiction #captain america #captain america fanfiction

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babyjakes · 3 years ago

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forever and a day | 46. daddy and willa's day.

← last chapter | series masterlist | next chapter →

summary | a story in which america’s favorite captain gives a new life and family to a five-year-old girl who has suffered well beyond her years at the hands of hydra.

characters | dad!steve rogers, girl/willa rogers (original character)

[Steve]

“I wanna be where the people are. I wanna see, wanna see ‘em dancing…”

Willa’s wide eyes never leave the screen as Ariel sings the familiar tune, her little body vibrating softly as she hums, curled up next to me on the plush white sofa. So far throughout the film, she’s shifted her position several times, sucking in breaths of discomfort along with her movements; it’s glaringly obvious that she’s in pain. But she hasn’t said anything to me about it, so, for now, I’ve decided to leave it alone. Not wanting to upset her, I figure it won’t be the end of the world to wait for the film to finish to address the elephant in the room.

As the song continues to play, Willa hums along quietly against me as my hand reaches up to find her hair. Slowly and gently, I begin to run my fingers over the smooth locks. The child relaxes slightly against me at this contact, and though I want to stay present in the moment, I can’t keep my mind from wandering. What’s hurting my Willa? What’s wrong; what happened to my sweet little girl? Though it very well could be just a stomachache from the food, I highly doubt it. Eggs, berries, and bread are all very mild in nature and I can’t imagine them causing too much discomfort for her.

I still don’t want to jump to any conclusions, but I can’t help but think that it must have been something more that Tony did, something that Willa’s trying to keep from me. The fact that she’s in pain is obvious, but that’s simply because she’s a child and children don’t always have much capacity to conceal their feelings. I can just tell that she’s holding herself back as much as she can, and it breaks my heart. I hate how she feels like she always has to keep everything inside; I wish I knew how to make her feel safer in coming to me for help.

“Are mermaids real?” a soft voice breaks me out of my thoughts. Looking down, I see that Willa has turned herself on my lap to look up at me. Gazing down at her softly, my hand shifts from her hair to her cheek.

“No, I don’t think so, sweetheart… well- actually, I guess I can’t say for sure,” I correct myself. While the logical answer to that question is of course a negative, my mind travels back to the aliens taking over New York, and with that situation in mind, it’s hard to say that anything’s impossible.

“Have you ever seen one?” the girl asks innocently, her eyes wide with wonder as she talks about the magical creatures.

“Nope. Not in today’s world, and not back in the forties, either,” I tell her. She frowns at the news, and my heart sinks at having disappointed her. “But that doesn’t mean they’re not real. I’m sure they live deep in the ocean, just like Ariel. I was asleep when I traveled to the bottom of the sea, so maybe I missed my chance to see them,” I try in hopes of lifting her spirits.

“The bottom of the sea… that’s where the fishies live,” Willa notes. I nod.

“Yep, just like Flounder and Sebastian.”

“F'ounder. A-and S'bas-stin,” she tries to repeat back. Smiling at her, I can’t help but soften up at her adorable speech. The happy moment is quickly interrupted, though, by a wince of discomfort surging through the little girl. With her eyes still locked on mine, her cheeks turn red, and her eyes widen slightly as she realizes she’s been caught.

“You alright, pumpkin?” I ask gently, not wanting to frighten her.

“Mhmm,” she hums quickly, her rushed response only giving her away even more.

Sighing, my eyebrows draw together in concern. “Sweetheart,” I coo softly, “what’s goin’ on, Willa-bug? You’ve been shifting around the whole movie; it’s clear something’s bothering you.”

The poor thing’s bottom lip begins to quiver anxiously as her eyes break away from mine, searching for a way out of the situation she’s found herself in. “N-no… ’m fine,” she insists slowly. As she leans back on my lap, I can feel her little body slowly beginning to shake against me. Poor doll.

“Kiddo, if something’s wrong, you can tell me, remember? I’m here to help you, to make things better. You just gotta talk to me,” I try.

“I-it’s nothing,” she denies weakly. “’m fine. S-sorry.” Her little apology at the end makes my heart sting. Sighing again, I nod, wishing I knew how to help her open up. Getting Willa to ask for or even just accept help has been like pulling teeth since day one. It makes sense, given the circumstances she came from, but it still makes things unnecessarily difficult as her caretaker. All I can hope is that with time and help from the therapist she’ll soon be seeing, maybe things won’t have to be this way forever.

“Okay doll,” I give in, not having the heart to push her any further in the moment. “Just remember, it’s okay to come to me for help, alright? It’s what I’m here for,” I remind her; relaxing a bit, she simply nods, seeming relieved to be in the clear.

Willa turns back to face the screen where a new scene has begun in the movie, once again falling into a trance as she’s captivated by Ariel and her story. Rubbing my thumb gently against the little girl’s cheek, I close my eyes, taking in a deep breath. Somehow. I’ve gotta figure out what’s hurting her, somehow.

“What would you like to do now, sweetheart?” I ask as the credits roll. Willa sits up beside me as I pull her over so that she’s resting on my lap once again. Reaching over, I grab the remote, shutting the TV off. The child rubs at her eyes sleepily, then raises her arms up for a big stretch. “You sleepy?” I tease lightly, my fingers coming down and gently poking at her belly. She giggles, shaking her head as she snuggles back up to me.

“Not s'eepy,” she says, but her voice is slow and slurred, maybe suggesting otherwise.

“It’s only two in the afternoon, you goof,” I chuckle at her softly. “We got the whole day ahead of us still. You wanna take a nap?”

“Nooo-,” she protests quickly, her eyes suddenly becoming like a puppy’s as she peers up at me, blinking innocently. “Wanna stay with you. Daddy and Willa’s day,” she adds, and I feel as if I could just melt.

“Okay baby,” I agree, brushing her hair back behind her ear and giving her a squeeze. “Daddy and Willa’s day. I like the sound of that.” She hums contently against me, her head falling slightly to the side to rest against my chest. “What d'you wanna do now? We have the whole afternoon to ourselves.”

Two green eyes gaze shyly up at me, and a familiar look forms on the child’s face. It’s the look that tells me she has something she’d like to say, but even in such a light, playful moment, her fears are still getting the best of her and she’s unable to speak. I soften my expression towards her, cupping her cheek in my hand and tilting her head slightly up at me. “What’s up, sweetheart?” I ask encouragingly. Willa bites down on her bottom lip nervously, a thin line of tears building up in her wide eyes. “Hey- oh darlin’, it’s okay,” I murmur, saddened by her overpowering timidness. “What’s on your mind, sweetie pie? We can do anything you wanna do; it’s our day, remember?”

“P-play?” the little girl whimpers quietly, her body instantly flinching back in preparation for a blow. Her simple answer breaks my heart; how broken she must be inside, to be so scared to ask for such a small thing.

“You wanna play? Of course we can, Willa. You don’t have to be scared to ask to play; I love playing with you, sweetheart.” Relaxing slightly at my positive reaction, Willa nods, sniffling as she blinks the tears out of her eyes. “And we have a whole bunch of new toys in your room, remember? What d'you say we go and check them out?”

The little girl nods shyly and I give her a smile, securing my arms around her as I rise to my feet. Placing her on my hip, I make my way back through the apartment to the bedrooms, opening up Willa’s door and stepping inside. “The whole gang helped out in picking stuff, so I honestly don’t know what all’s in here,” I admit as I flip on the light switch, a subtle warm glow illuminating the space. Bending down onto my knees, I place the child onto the floor, sitting cross-legged in front of the crates. Willa stands quietly beside me, peering over the two boxes.

Guessing the little one is too nervous to go any further alone, I start pulling things out one by one, explaining to her what each toy is while placing them on the floor between us. “Here’s a Captain America doll. This one was not my doing,” I tell her with a chuckle.

“That’s you, Cap'ain 'merica,” Willa says quietly, pointing at the figurine’s face.

“Yep. Don’t know if they got my features quite right, but close enough,” I comment, raising an eyebrow slightly at the doll’s unevenly printed eyes. “Here’s a set of alphabet magnets. We can put those on the fridge, if you want,” I suggest.

“A'phabet magnets,” the little girl repeats.

“Mhmm. Oh, and here’s a set of playing cards. They all have Thor’s face on them; he was very excited about that,” I roll my eyes playfully. Willa giggles beside me, taking the box in my hand.

“Thor!” she cheers happily, her little finger pressing onto his face on the cover. “Look, there he is! My f-f'iend’s on there!”

“Yeah, you’re right, doll. He sure is,” I smile lovingly at the girl’s elation. “Y'know, you could probably find anything and everything with Thor’s face on it,” I shake my head. “He signs deals with the strangest companies, I swear.” Continuing through the first crate, I pull out the next item, and Willa’s eyes quickly lock on it. “Hey, look! These are finger paints,” I mention, looking over the box. “Skin-safe and washable, too. That seems important.” Having set the playing cards down, I hand the box to the now empty-handed girl, and she looks over them in wonder. “We can make art with those,” I explain. “Kind of like your markers and crayons, but these are more fun because we get to make a mess.”

“A mess!” Willa squeals quietly, her eyes lighting up. I can’t help but smile at her sheer adorableness as I put the few other toys back that we had looked at. This seems like it’s the one she’s most interested in.

“We have a giant art pad here, too, so we can make a really big mess,” I add, pulling out the pad of paper. Holding it up next to Willa, it’s almost as tall as the little girl herself.

“Really big mess,” she agrees, clutching the paints close to her chest. “Finger paints! With Daddy,” she beams, almost jumping with excitement.

“Alright, kiddo,” I chuckle at her, reaching a hand out and messing her hair slightly. “Let’s get to it, then. Finger paints it is.”

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