because, like, okay I can buy that maybe he can disguise himself well enough to hide the fact that he’s superman, but i doubt any amount of slouching and glasses wearing can truly disguise that he’s a very tall EXTREMELY muscular man with a jawline that can cut glass.
So basically this newspaper office has this guy who looks like a weightlifter/supermodel just hanging around but he wears glasses and acts like a huge nerd and everyone just goes with it???
Like “Oh yeah, that’s Clark. No no he works here. Oh no don’t bother being intimidated by him, talk to him for five minutes and he’ll devolve into a lecture on proper tractor maintenance. We like Clark.”
I wonder if the ladies in the office ever drag him with them to bars so they don’t have to worry about creeps trying to harass them like “back off creeps our friend here is 6′4″ and grew up chucking hay bales” And then it’s funny because (as far as they know) Clark is like, the meekest lil nerd around. (He don’t look it though!!!!)
It’s just incredible to me that Clark Kent can pull off being a quiet harmless dork while still looking like, well, superman.
So imagine after the war, Draco’s friends are thinking okay, Draco was only obsessed with Harry Potter because they were arch enemies but everything will go back to normal now. And then eighth year starts and nothing changes?
Draco is still staring at Harry Potter over the other side of the Great Hall, at breakfast, at lunch and at dinner. He still talks about how the great Harry Potter gets this or the boy who lived gets that. And the Slytherin are like ??? Why are you still obsessed with Harry? And Draco’s like ??? I’m not. We’re enemies remember? And his friends have to tell him no not anymore. You’re on the same side.
So Draco’s very confused for a while, not sure how he should be acting. And then he realises, even though he no longer hates Potter’s guts, he still wants to stare at him every meal. He still wants to find excuses to talk about him to his friends. He still wants to make snarky comments to Potter every class…but only because it’s the only time he gets to talk to him.
Despite all the warnings, it still hits Draco way too abruptly when he realises he’s in love with Harry Potter. He’s in the middle of a potions double when his eyes, completely of their own accord, latch on to Potter turning his head and laughing at something the Weasel said. Draco stares and stares as the realisation washes over him. He keeps staring even long after Potter has turned his head back to the front of the class and all he can see is messy black hair.
Pansy works it out first. Even before Draco’s potions epiphany. Although for once she understands the importance of keeping her mouth shut. So when Draco comes to her with his revelation, she is not at all surprised. And she is here to help. She convinces Draco to cool it with the snarky comments and work up the courage to actually talk to Potter.
And so - with plenty of encouragement - Draco does. At first it’s just small things like asking Potter for a spare quill in class, or saying excuse me politely as they pass rather than pushing into Potter. And then one day Draco works up the courage to say good morning to Potter when he runs into him in the Great Hall during breakfast. And Potter says good morning right back, albeit with a puzzled expression on his face.
Soon, Potter no longer looks puzzled. When Draco greets him, he returns the sentiment with a smile, that seems to grow with each day. It’s that smile which gives Draco the push he needs to approach Potter in the library one night and ask if he might like to share his table. An enthusiastic yes from Potter lights a small spark of hope in Draco’s pining heart.
Studying together becomes a habit most nights. It starts off silently, Draco happy to share his space with Potter but too nervous to think of anything further to say past a simple greeting. Thankfully one day it’s Potter who starts the first conversation. It’s one of those awkward small talk type conversations about the weather but it leads in to an animated discussion of Quidditch that keeps them talking well into the night, ignoring several reprimands from Madam Prince for being too loud in the library.
And so Draco and Harry - he’s no longer Potter - become friends. And Draco’s happy. Happier than he’s been in a long time. And his friends know. Not just Pansy. All the Slytherins. It’s obvious. Because despite spending most of his free time hanging out with Harry Potter, and professing to have no remaining hate for him at all, Draco still stares at him across the Great Hall, at breakfast, at lunch and at dinner.
And so Slytherins, being Slytherins, begin planning, with Pansy at the lead of course. They already know how Draco feels, they only need to get Harry Potter to realise his own feelings too, which they suspect match Draco’s. Because he might have his head down in the Great Hall but they’ve seen Harry stare at Draco during Quidditch games for far longer than strictly necessary.
And so they do something that Draco would completely disapprove of, solely for Draco’s own good. When they know Harry will be walking by the Quidditch lockers after a Gryffindor practice, they plant two of their own at a nearby bench and have them talking far louder than normal conversation requires.
“It’s really rather embarrassing. Draco’s been pining for ages. I’ve never seen anyone who had it so bad.”
“But who do you mean? I’ve only seen him hanging out with Potter.”
“Exactly. Potter. It’s tragic isn’t it? He’s in love with the boy who lived. He should probably queue up like all the other groupies just to get his autograph.”
While the two younger Slytherins continue their staged and poorly acted performance, (Pansy will have words with them later) Pansy, safely hidden with a disillusionment charm, watches Potter’s reaction closely and is not displeased. At the sound of Draco’s name, Potter stops immediately to eavesdrop which is telling in itself. When his own name comes into play, a blush creeps slowly up his face. And when Draco’s love for him is revealed, an involuntary smile appears on Harry’s face very very quickly. Pansy knows now they only have to wait.
Sure enough, at dinner that night, Harry Potter makes his move. Always one for dramatics, he walks right up to the Slytherin table and plants a short but deliberate kiss square on Draco’s face before Pansy even has time to let out a wolf whistle.
Draco sits there, mouth agape, pale face not so pale for once, until another Slytherin gives him a nudge on the shoulder. He looks up and blinks at Harry Potter who is smiling down at him. Once more Harry’s smile brings him courage. He stands up to meet Harry, conscious of every eye in the Great Hall on him, and kisses Harry Potter right back.
And it’s the Slytherins who lead the cheers that erupt across the Great Hall. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. At last.
Request: Okay, so this is Sirius x Reader where you like him and he likes you but neither of you know that and you ask the Marauders and Lily and Marlene if they wanna go to Hogsmeade or whatever the next day but they are all busy except Sirius. So you guys go and you get cold so he gives you his hoodie and you forget to return it or don’t want to because it smells like him and when you do at the end of the day he gets really happy because it smells like you and he wears it. Basically just fluff thanks.
Word Count: About 2,800.
Warning(s): Sexual tension, slightly suggestive comments, Sirius being hot as hell, kissing and stuff.
Note: In summary, this is a Sirius x Reader work about a cold night at Hogsmeade. Also, I deviated a bit from the request. Just a bit.
“We’re all still on for tonight, right?”
“Yeah.” Lily nodded, shrugging on a warm jacket as she headed out the door. “Marlene said to meet them in the common room before we go.”
As you made your way down the staircase next to Lily, you spotted James, Peter, and Marlene lounging on a sofa near the fireplace. Huddled together, the trio seemed to be in a heated conversation.
Nearing them, you heard their hushed whispers.
“Just make up some excuse to–”
Once Peter spotted you approaching, however, he nudged the other two into silence.
“Y/N! Lily!” exclaimed Marlene, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear nervously. “Just the ones we’ve been waiting for.”
With a quirked eyebrow, you took a seat on the arm of the couch. When they smiled innocently at you, you shook your head with a small laugh, looking around the room. You thought it might be best to ignore their impish antics. Around you, the Gryffindor common room was bustling with life and chatter. But amidst it all, you couldn’t spot Sirius.
Not that you were waiting for him, of course. He just happened to cross your mind as you looked around.
“He’s almost ready,” said James, a cheeky grin playing on his face.
wasn’t referring to verbal truth. I
was referring to,” and then there was a brief pause that was followed by a light press to
the center of your stomach. Your back laid flat against the wooden bench before the predatory loom of his figure appeared overhead, “Candor of the body. Which you, my love, are the
absolute queen of.”
With an exchanged swipe, taste forthcoming as the two of you
had intended. Too sweet, muttered against your lips – lips that curved
into ones of amusement at his feigned disfavor for your particular arrangement
of the poison. Too bitter, slipped past your teeth in retort, the air of
the syllables brushing against his breath; a dance of icy exhales in a burning
winter night. His mouth twitched at that, following your suit into similar
enjoyment of the playful critique.
“Maybe not my coffee, but sweet in other aspects, no?” He
spoke in a devilish dialect of insinuation and lust. One that, before
encountering him, was unfamiliar to you. Adoration, it managed to claw at your
chest with great vigor each and every time he glanced down at you through
darkened tufts of raven hair. His words wrapping their way around you entirely
until they sounded of music. The notes gliding across your bones as his voice
conducted your motions.
You know that class where you have to take care of a sack of flour for a week and pretend it’s a baby? Well Jason had to take one of those classes back when he was a kid, and he took it wayyyy too seriously.
Bruce was borderline terrified of how seriously Jason handled this assignment. He bought baby clothes, fed it during mealtimes, (only flour-free food of course, so as not to promote flour cannibalism), and made Bruce buy him an actual crib for his flour baby. That whole week Jason’s only priority was that sack of flour, or Felicia, as he named her. It got even worse when “Uncle Dick” came over. He and Jason insisted they take Felicia on a trip to the park for a “family outing”. Poor Bruce was stuck there for a half hour, sitting bored on a bench as he watched his two grown sons pushing a sack of flour on the baby swing. Ironically, Jason was actually a model single father despite having a dad who was a criminal and an adoptive father who was an emotionally-stunted vigilante. Alfred even made a point of telling Bruce that Jason was a better dad than he ever was, which was both true and uncalled for.
Bruce tried drawing the line at bringing his flour baby on patrol, but Jason insisted that he couldn’t just leave his helpless daughter alone, and Alfred couldn’t possibly know how to care for a baby, (despite the fact that Alfred pretty much raised Bruce and the other batkids but okay). After an hour of arguing Bruce finally gave in, and that’s how the next day every newspaper in Gotham had Robin on the front page with a picture of him with a baby carrier strapped to his chest. From the right distance, Felicia looked like an actual baby, which prompted a ton of gossip. Rumors spread about the Boy Wonder being a teenage parent, with speculation that Batgirl was probably the mother. Bruce was so done by then, meanwhile Jason didn’t care, too preoccupied with playing peekaboo with his flour baby.
*turns on tv 30 minutes early from scheduled game time*
the game doesn't start for another 30 minutes, we have time to change the channel
me, shooting a death glare:
i gotta watch the warm up, the national anthems (where they show shots of the bench), the video featuring the two teams playing, pre-game interviews, locker room and hallway hype, don't you dare touch the remote
(All info is culled directly from in-game references; gif was made by me - if you want to use it in something else, please ask &/or give me credit. Thanks so much! <3)
~ Background Canon ~
Seems to have little/no respect for people who sleep around and/or put sex before other, more important things
Was (possibly) in the Army
Has a Boston Terrier named Betsy (likes to pretend she’s a pit bull)
Likes to tell elaborate (and sometimes graphic) stories. (Are they true? No one but Robert knows.)
Knows how to fake people out (i.e. good poker face?)
Sends texts/messages like a teenager
Believes hitting a child would be despicable
Insists on watching movie credits to the VERY end
Has a daughter named Val who lives in Brooklyn; she works for some ‘news media online magazine thing’ and makes a lot of money doing it.
He’s unsure of Val’s age, but thinks it’s maybe 25 or 26
He refers to Brooklyn as ‘home’ (…so what does that make Maple Bay?)
Carries a fully-stocked first aid kit in his truck
Has an unconventional sense of humor
Has a tendency to say exactly what he means…and then pretend like he didn’t mean it
Not the most talkative of people, generally speaking
Thinks River has an ‘old soul’
His wife’s name was Marilyn; she died in an ‘accident’.
He has a ‘long, wicked scar across his pecs’ (supposedly from a bike accident with Val)
Has a tattoo on his left hand, shaped a little like a compass rose
The mention of cannibalism reminded him of the last time he went skiing. (Just another ‘story’?)
Claims his leather jacket has been in his family a long time, and that it’s ‘cursed’
Seems to have done a lot of thinking about killing someone. “It’s not just their life, you know. It’s their hopes and dreams draining away. Every memory and experience they’ve ever had…gone.”
This guy may not look it, but he’s smart! Knows who Hemingway is, has heard of capybaras, is a classic film buff, knows random Bible verses by heart…
Robert’s hands are calloused and covered in little white scars.
Got stabbed in Louisiana…or was it Kentucky…?
Isn’t a ‘sore loser’
Drives a VERY old red pickup truck.
House is filled with sleek, modern appliances; a big flat-screen TV; and shelves upon shelves of DVDs
~ Likes/Dislikes Canon ~
Has at least a mild interest in sports of some kind and a preferred team that he roots for
Likes Paranormal Ice Road Truckers, but isn’t a fan of TV in general
Likes war documentaries
Doesn’t like small talk
Doesn’t like being called Rob (…or Bobert) - ‘buddy’ seems to be okay?
Likes to go camping (but hasn’t been after what happened last time)
Digs old movies from the 30′s and 40s
Takes the creation of movies VERY seriously
Likes Tom Waits and Santana
Likes to whittle and is pretty good at it
Smokes like a chimney (if all the ashtrays in his house are any indication.)
Enjoys the Criterion Collection
~ Food/Drink Canon ~
Likes whiskey… A LOT - especially shots
When it comes to alcohol, rarely takes ‘no’ for an answer
Likes white zinfandel because it’s delicious, fruity, and refreshing
LOVES pineapple on his pizza
Thinks Jim and Kim’s is the best bar in town
Occasionally hangs out at The Coffee Spoon
~ Sex/Romance Canon ~
Talks dirty…very dirty
Enjoys leaving hickeys…lots of them
Rough enough in bed to leave a person feeling sore and ‘creaky’ afterwards
When his lover says ‘no’ or ‘stop’ he takes it seriously
Recognizes that he’s an emotional wreck/emotionally unavailable…and is honest about it
~ Memorable Quotes ~
“The key to being cool is acting like you don’t care about anything, but actually care very deeply about everything to the point where it’s debilitating.”
“Too many people think that they have to fill the dead air with noise. Personally I think they’re afraid of the silence. Or they’re afraid of what the other person is gonna think of the silence…learn to be comfortable with silence.”
“I respect your opinion. And I will fight with my life for your right to say it. But where’s your sense of adventure? Where’s your sense of taste? Why won’t you love yourself?”
“The juciness of the pineapple paired with the tanginess of the sauce is a flavor combination that everyone should experience at least once, if not a thousand times more. Pineapple on pizza is one of the few things in life that I genuinely and thoroughly enjoy. Please. Please just do this for me. No - do this for yourself.”
“That popcorn-ass drivel the mass media is shoving down your throat will only make you dumber and sadder. You of all people should strive for a higher standard in the art you consume.”
“Are you kidding me? I would never hit a child. That would be despicable.”
“This is my Thinking Bench. I have to get a solid two to three hours of brooding per day. Filling quotas…A lot of people underestimate the senses of a man who broods.”
“I’m so many levels of irony deep that I’ve forgotten what humor is.”
“I was so busy chasing after all of these things that I thought would make me happy that I didn’t think about anyone else. All I cared about was myself.”
“Maybe I’m just built like this. Or maybe I do it to myself. Maybe it’s my own choice I’m as unhappy as I am.”
“I’m working on my relationship with existence.”
“Long live the king, baby.”
“I spent my whole life only taking, and taking, and taking. And now here I am, an old, broken man sitting on top of a pile of everything I’ve ever taken. Alone.”
“I spent so much time chasing after things I thought were gonna make me happy that I ruined my only real chance at happiness.”
“You know, every day for me is a battle against my own self-destructive habits.”
are no lazy mornings for Craig, but he leaves you in bed when he goes
for his morning run. He always takes River with him, and the twins
are old enough to occupy themselves with cereal and cartoons so
you’re free to lounge around in bed until he comes back. If you’re
still asleep (which you often are) he’ll wake you with kisses and
teasingly complain about your morning breath.
DAMIEN Damien loves to start a day with a stroll around his garden. You can’t deny
it’s absolutely breathtaking: all those flowers in the stillness of
early morning. Sometimes you’ll bring a flask of coffee out and the
two of you will sit on one of the benches while he teaches you the
meanings of different flowers and the two of you plan bouquets
likes to get up early even on days off, so you frequently wake to
find him in the kitchen with coffee and either a book or homework to
mark. He makes up for leaving you in bed by having breakfast waiting
for you, and you spend the morning occupied by your own tasks across
the table or sofa from each other.
you and Robert are habitual night owls, so frankly an ideal morning
is one you sleep through. Waking up before 11 involves
dozing and sometimes sleepy and surprisingly sweet morning sex
before you roll out bed, hit the shower and make coffee (not
necessarily in that order).
really knows how to chill. He’ll wake you up with coffee and you’ll
make breakfast together in your pajamas with a record playing in the
background. Then you’ll kick back on the couch and either carry on
listening to music or watch some obscure indie film – though you
like to lay your head in his lap and close your eyes, so nothing with
subtitles until later.
BRIAN You discovered early on (and much to your dismay) that Brian likes to watch the sunrise on days off. However, after a few times of settling down on a blanket on his back porch with flasks of coffee and pastries, the early hours aren’t so bad after all – especially not when you lay in his lap and he strokes your hair while you give Maxwell some well deserved ear scritches. Plus the sunrise over the bay really is spectacular.
young kids and a community to care for mean that lazy mornings are a
distant memory for Joseph. You learn to find respite in small doses –
in the lull when all the kids have successfully been wrangled into
eating breakfast; in the way the early sunlight shines through the
stained-glass of the church windows; in the kisses that Joseph steals
every morning without fail before the two of you get out of bed.
“Hii gurl I have an idea for a Suga fluff or smut depends on how you feel like making it and I don’t know if you’ve ever made anything similar but could you do one where Yoongi’s y/n’s (who’s quite younger) brother’s friend and things happen between them, please? :3″
“Limerence; the state of being infatuated with another person”. I decided to make it slightly angsty (whoops) I guess that just makes the sex better. I didn’t get the part about being younger– I’m guessing it’s the reader that is younger, so…. Yeah.. I made the age difference 9 years (another whoops). I hope you like it, anon! 3.2k Words
Pairing: Pure-blood!Min Yoongi x Half-blood!Reader
Genre: Ancient Korea au!, smut, angst
Warnings: Cheating, moaning denial, fingering, Taking the Agust D
P.S. I made the reader/oc half-blood noble, so it’s not just the Korean people. ;)) I want it to be internationally compatible.
The day that you were born was probably one of the most joyful days for your father and 8-year-old brother, maybe not for your step mother – considering he had sex with a concubine to have you. You were the first half-blood of the family, and even though your father loved you dearly, there was still a small difference in the way he treated you.
Whilst your brother was out learning archery and literature, you were sat at home, learning how to look like you were radiant enough for being part of the nobility. Unfortunately, you were not exactly fit for the beauty standards, so you had to try harder to look appealing to outsiders. You weren’t ugly – you were just not traditionally beautiful.
You had an exotic type of beauty.
That was one of the first things a 25-year-old Min Yoongi noticed about you when you both first met.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t get [called] Harry Potter at all. Of course I do. But you know what? I’d say the split is now rather encouragingly in favour of Daniel Radcliffe, which is rather lovely. I walked past two girls on a bench the other day, and I heard them both go ‘Oh my God, it’s Daniel Radcliffe’, and every time that happens I think: ‘Yesss!’ Not because they recognize me, because they use my name.
My girlfriend can charge my scroll just by holding it.
My girlfriend can make me hot tea and cook for me just by holding the kettle and the pan.
My girlfriend can can go all night all.
My girlfriend can go all night and day long.
My girlfriend is the perfect size to cuddle with.
My girlfriend's boobs are bigger.
My girlfriend's butt is better.
My girlfriend's tongue is amazing.
My girlfriend can lift ten of herself.
My girlfriend can shatter a mech with one punch.
My girlfriend can beat you up.
My girlfriend can beat up your girlfriend.
*Ruby opens the door to the backyard and walked out on the last few lines that Blake and Ren said as they glaring at the books they are reading while continuing to banter back and forward before asking her sister and friend as sitting on a bench having tea.* What's with those two?
Ren said there are too many plot holes the book they are read.
And Blake likes the author and took offence to it.
Then Ren said some other author is way better.
Which of course is an author Blake thinks is horrible.
And started to argue over other books.
And somehow lead to them arguing about which of us is the better girlfriend. Which I have to said Nora you are perfect sized to cuddle with a nice butt.
Thank you. I think you would be nice and cozy to cuddle with to and have great chest pillows.
Awww.~ You're so sweet. Come here. *Yang smiled giving Nora a hug who returns it before they both lift up their cups of tea and take a sip.*
... Uh-huh. Okay then. Now to the question I probably should have asked first, why are you two wearing those? *Ruby nodded before she questioned the two, pointing to the top-hats monocles and large fake handlebar mustache.*
Tea time. *They said raising the cups.* Cheers.
The Smithsonian was swarming with people, as expected on a warm weekend. Bucky had a cap on his head, wearing a red henley that covered his arms and a pair of old washed jeans. He strolled around the exhibits with his hands in his pocket, rounding the Captain America exhibit.
This wasn’t his first visit there since leaving Hydra. The first was when Steve brought him to help him, them, find some comforting part of the 40s. There was even this little corner with some information about Bucky himself and his Howling Commandos comrades. He enjoyed spending his free afternoons in the museum, it was the closest thing to his home back in the 40s he had in this big new country.
Student groups came and went with their teachers, no one paid mind to Bucky; and he liked that, peace and quiet. He settled himself in front of Steve’s motorcycle. His lips turned slightly into a small smile thinking about just now much his best friend used to like that bike.
The silence he had in his mind was broken when he heard squabbling to his left. Turning to the direction, his eyes fell to a small group of pre-schoolers decked in blue. In the center of the group was a young girl and boy; the boy was holding his shin, a grimace on his face and the girl had an indignant look on hers, her tiny arms crossed in front of her.
“How dare you call the Winter Soldier a monster? The sergeant is a hero you hear me?” words tumbled out of the young girl, the frown on her face deepening. The boy looked up at her and sneered “How would you know? You’re just a girl.”
Before the girl could give him a piece of her mind, the teacher stepped between the two and demanded them both to apologize to each other. “You two will be on time out. Sit on the bench with Mrs. Mary and reflect. Both of your parents will pick you up when the tour for the rest of the class ends. No argument!” the teacher warned, voice stern and brows furrowed.
Bucky looked on as he saw the two children sat on the two furthest ends of the bench, the girl still had her arms crossed. He took a seat on the bench nearest to theirs and at that point, he’s decided he was going to watch over her till her parents came. Just in case the boy was to do anything sneaky.
At that thought, he chuckled at himself and thought since she was going to defend his honor, he shall do his part and be her guardian for that afternoon. It was probably one of the sweetest things anyone has done for him since the 40s. A tiny girl defending him when he couldn’t even bring himself to defend his own honor.
“I’ll have you know that my mom works with the Avengers and she knows the Winter Soldier and she says he’s a war hero. Without him, we’ll all probably be Hydra.” she huffed, side-eyeing the boy as her teacher stood a short distance away, probably calling their parents.
A short half hour later, a young woman hurried into the exhibition hall, her heels clicking away. She lowered herself to the height of the young girl and chastised lightly, her eyes betraying her true emotions. “I heard someone’s in trouble, young lady,” she said, bopping the little girl’s nose.
Straightening herself, she shook the hands of the teacher and after a short conversation turned to her daughter and said, “Young lady, you will apologize to Brian now and say you’re sorry for kicking him the shin. There’s no excuse good enough for hurting someone you hear me.” The young girl begrudgingly turned to the smug boy and muttered a half-hearted sorry.
“And you Brian. You will apologize to Poppy for saying she’s just a girl. And for calling someone you don’t know a monster. Poppy is a lovely girl who will turn out just as amazing as any boy like yourself. Bucky, Sergeant Barnes is a respectable hero for our country, alright?” she chastised, lowering herself to Brian’s height.
Brain’s smug grin fell, as he looked at Poppy and apologized. “Alright. Now the two of you are going to shake hands and make friends alright.” she instructed.
Her daughter’s teacher gave her a grateful smile and thanked her, “You’re a life saver (Y/N). You should’ve joined us as a parent volunteer.” “If I had the time I really wouldn’t mind but you know how it is over at Stark Industries.” she replied, a resigned smile on her face.
Hearing her name, Bucky perked up and narrowed his eyes to get a better look at her. (Y/N)?Stark Industries? Could it be Pepper’s PA? That (Y/N)?Bucky’s always paid extra attention to her. Despite no one noticing it. Or perhaps Nat knew but just didn’t want to call him out on it. She did always have this knowing smirk on her face. (Y/N) always had this lovely smile on her face that made her eyes disappear into a cute crescent.
People mostly left Bucky alone. But not (Y/N). If she baked during the weekends, she always made sure to give him a couple of the treats she made. If he was coming back from a mission, she would always be there waiting. Well, she may have been waiting for anyone. Nat. Wanda. Steve. Thor. God forbid, Sam. But it always warmed his heart a little seeing her tiny figure from afar.
He knew the (Y/N) was a single mom. Her bastard of a boyfriend left once he knew she was expecting. She also knew she had to juggle a lot, there were even a couple of times Nat helped pick her daughter from pre-school when she was occupied with work.
As Bucky looked over, he saw that (Y/N) was holding on to her daughter’s hand, arms swaying as they walked towards the exit. He didn’t know what came over him, his shy demeanour that he acquired over time, vanished as he took large steps to the pair.
(Y/N) noticed his figure and a look of shock appeared on her face when she figures out who it was. He gave her a shy smile as he kneeled next to Poppy.
“Hi. You’re Poppy, right? I’m Bucky. Your mom’s fr-“ Bucky started. Before he could continue, Poppy let out an excited squeal and jumped into his arms.
“You’re The Winter Soldier! Sergeant Barnes! Can I really call you Bucky?” she babbled on, her tiny arms wrapped around Bucky. He couldn’t help but let out a hearty chuckle at her excitement as he returned her hug light.
“Of course you can Pumpkin. Please feel free to call me anything,” he replied, eyes meeting (Y/N)’s, her smile evident on her face as she laughed at her daughter’s antics.
“Oooooooo. How about Buckaroo? Bucky Bear? Cuddly Bucky? Big Barnes?” she listed name off her head, still not letting Bucky go. An affectionate chuckle escaped Bucky, as he scooped the young girl up, Poppy still happily listing out nicknames for the super soldier.
“You heading back to the office? Do you mind if I carry her the way back?” Bucky asked softly, his cheeks, a faint red.
(Y/N) laughed softly and said, “I don’t think she’s going to let you go anytime soon. You’re her hero you know?”
Bucky’s cheeks flushed a deeper red, as he awkwardly scratches the back of his head.
I know I haven’t written much or been on Tumblr much. I have been majorly busy with college and I’m so drained. It would mean the world to me if I could get some feedback on this. I hope everyone enjoys this!
For my other writings, search “Ting writes” on my Tumblr!”