okay but bucky wirh his son and baby girl where hes always got his baby girl in the carrier on his chest and his son starts wanting one so his son gets a mini one and he walks around with a teddy in it while holding hands with his daddy whose got his baby sister strapped to his chest
just a thought
- 😼
oh my fuking god
this is so freaking cute i can't even
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Bucky’s world had narrowed down to two small hands—one sticky with jam, curled around his metal fingers—and the soft rise and fall of the tiny chest pressed against his own.
The baby carrier sat snug across his chest, straps adjusted perfectly so his daughter could nestle against him. She slept soundly in her pink little hat, one fist curled beneath her chin, lips parted in a sigh. Every so often she’d let out one of those newborn noises that tugged at something deep inside of him—something Bucky hadn’t even known was still alive until she came along.
It was almost unfair, really, how something so small could undo him completely.
“Daddy.”
Bucky glanced down at his son, who was trotting beside him with all the seriousness a three-year-old could manage. His curls bounced with every step, and his free hand clutched the strap of the tiny backpack he insisted on wearing everywhere.
“What’s up, bud?” Bucky shifted his daughter’s weight automatically, bouncing her just slightly. She didn’t stir.
His son tilted his head, eyes squinting up at the contraption strapped across Bucky’s chest. “How come you get to wear her?”
Bucky chuckled, squeezing his son’s hand gently. “Because she’s little, pal. Too little to walk. So Daddy carries her like this so my hands are free for you.”
His son frowned. “But I wanna carry something too.”
Bucky raised a brow, amused. “You’ve got your backpack, don’t you?”
“Not the same.” His son pouted, dragging his little sneakers on the sidewalk until Bucky gave him a look. He perked back up quickly. “I want a carrier. Like yours.”
Bucky stopped walking, staring down at him. He couldn’t help it—the laugh bubbled out of his chest before he could stop it. “A carrier, huh?”
“Yeah.” His son nodded with absolute conviction. “For my teddy.”
And that was that.
The next morning, Bucky was crouched in the living room, a box cutter in one hand and a brown cardboard package in front of him. His son bounced on his toes beside him, chanting, “Open it, open it, open it!” while his daughter squeaked happily from her spot in the bassinet.
“Alright, alright, hold your horses,” Bucky muttered, slicing through the tape. He tugged the flaps open and pulled out the smaller carrier he’d found online after bedtime last night. It was navy blue, adjustable, and—most importantly—tiny.
His son’s eyes went round as saucers. “Is that mine?”
“Sure is,” Bucky said, holding it up. “Come here, champ. Let’s see if we can figure this out.”
It took a few tries, and a lot of giggles, but soon enough Bucky had the straps snugged across his son’s small shoulders, the fabric pouch sitting against his tummy. His boy darted across the room, grabbed his favorite stuffed bear, and solemnly tucked it into the carrier.
“There.” He looked up at Bucky with such pride that Bucky’s throat tightened. “Now I’m like you.”
And damn if that didn’t knock the wind right out of him.
From that day on, they were a matched set.
Bucky with his daughter strapped to his chest, his big hand wrapped around his son’s smaller one. His son, teddy snuggled into the tiny carrier like the most precious cargo in the world.
At the grocery store, people stopped and smiled. Strangers whispered cute as they passed by. Bucky pretended not to hear, but his son preened under the attention, puffing his chest out and patting his bear like he was on official baby duty.
Once, when the baby fussed, Bucky bounced her gently and hummed under his breath. His son copied him, swaying side to side as seriously as he could while crooning, “Shhh, it’s okay, Teddy.”
“Good job, pal,” Bucky said, and his son’s grin nearly split his face.
At night, when the house finally quieted and both kids were down, Bucky would sit on the couch with his head tipped back, exhaustion weighing heavy. You’d curl against his side, your hand finding his knee.
“You realize you’ve created a monster, right?” you teased. “He won’t even go to the park without that thing now.”
Bucky cracked one eye open, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Better that than him dragging toys all over the place. At least the bear stays put.”
You laughed softly, brushing your fingers over the baby blanket draped across the couch. “He wants to be just like you.”
That—more than anything—undid him.
Because once, not so long ago, Bucky hadn’t thought anyone would ever want to be like him. He’d been the shadow, the weapon, the one parents warned their kids about. And now… now his little boy looked at him like he hung the stars.
Sometimes Bucky would catch his son studying him, eyes narrowed as if memorizing every detail of how Bucky adjusted the straps or tucked the baby’s hat down. Then later, he’d mimic it perfectly with the bear.
It was a kind of love Bucky didn’t know how to hold, so he let it hold him instead.
The moment that stuck with him came on an ordinary Tuesday.
They were walking back from the park, his son’s tiny sneakers slapping against the pavement, teddy riding proudly in the carrier. The baby was wide-awake this time, kicking her little legs against Bucky’s chest, eyes bright.
“Daddy?” his son asked suddenly.
“Yeah, bud?”
“When she’s bigger, and I’m bigger too… can I carry her?”
Bucky looked down at him, heart stuttering. His son’s face was open and earnest, his small hand still curled trustingly in Bucky’s.
He swallowed hard. “Maybe one day, pal. When you’re big enough, and she’s big enough. But for now…” He squeezed his hand gently. “For now, she’s mine to carry. And you’ve got Teddy.”
His son considered this gravely, then nodded. “Okay. But I’ll be strong. Like you.”
Bucky bent, pressed a kiss to the top of his son’s head, and hoped he never forgot that moment.
Because the truth was, his boy was already stronger than he’d ever been.
That night, when the house was still, Bucky found himself standing in the doorway of his children’s room. His daughter slept in her crib, cheeks flushed pink. His son was sprawled across his bed, the tiny carrier still strapped on, Teddy snug inside.
Bucky leaned against the doorframe and just breathed.
For so long, he’d carried the weight of everything wrong in the world—war, violence, ghosts that clung to his bones. And now he carried this: soft baby breaths, sticky toddler hands, a teddy bear tucked safely against a little chest.
And for once, the weight didn’t break him. It saved him.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Supernatural (TV 2005) RPF
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
Characters: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Chad Michael Murray
Additional Tags: Schmoop, So much schmoop, seriously lots of schnoop, Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, Bottom Jared, Engagement, did I mention schmoop
Summary:
The story of the boy who meets the love of his life when he is six.
*****
Warning, this is so sweet it might cause health problems, lol
Maybe daddy stucky x little reader in babyspace where she wants to give her daddies always paci kisses 🥺
OMG how cute would this be?? Like if Baby was feeling really young, she'd always have her paci in, but she'd get that mischievous twinkle in her eye, climb into their laps suddenly, and pop them on the cheek with her paci. And she'd giggle like it was the most hilarious thing ever and then tumble off their laps and run away, returning within thirty seconds to do it again....
{Y/N} is dealing with morning sickness, but here comes McReynolds to the rescue!
Rating: T
Word Count: 460
Imagine: Fluff
Warnings: Fluff Overload
{Y/N} was currently feeling all kinds of sick as she rubbed her small belly. Being two months pregnant was something that came with drawbacks. Morning sickness and heavy cravings. She loved the sexual drive it gave her, but she groaned as she quickly got up and ran to the bathroom in her apartment. The sounds were a lot for McReynolds, but he came after her and held her {H/C} hair so it didn’t catch any vomit.
“ That’s it, let it out.” He said as he rubbed her back. Two minutes passed as {Y/N} upchucked her breakfast, but it soon ended. She pulled back and got up. She quickly brushed her teeth. {Y/N} quickly flushed the gross evidence down.
“ When does it end?” {Y/N} asked as she grabbed a tanktop and put it on.
“ Well being in your first trimester, it should end rather soon.” Glen said as he held her. She smiled as he walked her to the couch to lay down. He placed a hand on her belly and softly rubbed it.
“ Looking all sexy.” Glen said as he looked deep in her {E/C} eyes.
“ Oh stop.” {Y/N} said with a small blush on her cheek.
“ You have such a cute glow on you. I see you absentmindedly rubbing your belly when I look towards you, even when you sleep. When you crave fruit, you have these cute little dimples that curve your smile when I bring it to you.” Glen said as {Y/N} began to slightly tear up.
“ Hunny!” {Y/N} said as she rubbed Glen's cheeks as she kissed his nose. He smiles at her before picking her up and carrying her to the bedroom.
“ Let’s plug in a movie, eat some strawberries and mango slices.” Glen said with a smile. {Y/N} squealed at this and Glen chuckled. He got her under her favorite fluffy blanket and went into the kitchen. He sliced up some big strawberries and mango. As he returned, he saw {Y/N} plugging in Rocky Horror Picture show, her favorite movie. He smiled and sat down next to her.
“ Tim Curry in this is amazing.” {Y/N} said as she saw Tim Curry show up in the elevator in full attire in front of Brad and Janet.
“ It's just a jump to the left.” Glen said as he lifted a mango slice up and {Y/N} smiled before eating it.
“ Such a musical head.” He said as {Y/N} smirked as tint in her cheeks lit up.
“ I can’t wait.” {Y/N} said with a smile as Glen held her close. His body heat pulled her into a deep sleep. Glen just smiled as her smile stayed on her face while she slept deeply.
Just a cute mini fic in which Lucas makes breakfast for Haleth.
Lucas belongs to @totatoti
Word count : 770
.
It was the scent of food that woke Haleth from her sleep. The muskiness of coffee, freshly brewed. And bacon. Thick and salty smells tickling her nostrils, coaxing her back to consciousness.
The sheet beside her is rumpled, rolled back – it was too hot last night for the duvet, so she slept under a single layer of cloth and with Lucas's burly arms tightly wrapped around her.
Now it is morning, and the bedroom is full of a thick male fug, the miasma of a long hot night. Her skin is flushed and clammy. The sheet sticks to her back, the pillowcase to her cheek. She grumbled and reluctantly peeled her eyes open. She usually doesn't want coffee and a big breakfast this early. But she does, only because he is out there making it for her.
Lucas is in the kitchen, dancing his Sunday morning sarabande amongst the pans.
Haleth stands in the shadows of the hall, taking a moment, watching him lit up by the morning sun.
He has opened the kitchen door to let the dewy morning air in. The breeze cuts a crispness into the fatty vapour rising from the frying pan in his hand. Outside on the patio, a butterfly unfolds its wings in the potted lavender, testing the air. A bee ventures into the doorway, then thinks better of it, and bumbles away.
The sun spills a glowing rectangle on the lino, makes a halo around his head, a golden aura. It catches the summer-bleached down on the crests of his cheekbones and the brown nape of his neck, that lovely soft swoop, so bare and vulnerable. He's dressed in just his underwear, slung low on his broad hips. Haleth thought back to the countless times she had scolded him for cooking half dressed, worried that the fat will spit and burn his skin, but this morning she's glad that he has taken the risk.
He is lovely. Way over seven feet of tall, muscular, golden loveliness with a fine sheen of sweat glistening on his skin. Perfection.
She watches him move back and forth in the galley kitchen, one side to the other, chopping board to hob and back again, dancing the tango between fried eggs and bangers. His long bare feet slap on the floor. Occasionally he stops, wiggling his toes, enjoying the warmth where the sun has fallen. Then he is off again, chopping up mushrooms to fry. Long, nimble fingers on the knife, slicing, slicing.
Lucas is in his element. He started humming some lyrics, except she couldn't quite hear the depth of his voice over the crackling of the bacon in the pan. He picks up the knife and slices a few more mushrooms with mathematical precision. Pauses for a moment, hefts the knife in his hand, feeling the handle against his skin.
She takes a few steps closer, opening up her thoughts to him.
[Good morning.]
He looks up, his face breaking into a gentle smile when he sees her.
"Hungry?" he asks.
"Why didn't you wake me up to help? " she says, flinching at the roughness of her voice.
[Hmm, it smells so good.] She responds, wrapping both arms around his waist and snuggling against him. Her head barely reached his pecks.
[Sorry, my morning voice is horrible.]
He looked down at her, slowly brushing the hair out of her eyes, "I love your morning voice. And the last time you cooked you almost burned down the kitchen remember." he teased
"It was one time, you're never gonna let me forget that huh? " Haleth groaned, words muffled against his torso.
He bent down, planting kissing all over her forehead "No…I'm… not" he mumbled between kisses.
She looked up at him, meeting his gaze as his face drew closer. His lips pressed against her softly as she closed her eyes, kissing him back harder.
He picked her up and sat her on the counter, Haleth wrapped her legs around his waist, pulled him in deeper, she then wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him again. Breaking the kiss, Lucas bent down further so that he could nibble at her collarbone which only served to make her moans louder and she arched her back, pressing her body further against his.
"Lucas, wait!, something is burning" she gasped, pushing him away.
He stared at her wide eyed for a moment, then realization hit him.
"Oh no, the eggs! " Lucas sprinted to the pan, trying his best to salvage the over-fried eggs.
Haleth sighed, what a morning she thought to herself.
Ooh I love the fluffyness of this one, tysm for sending a prompt ! I hope I did it justice hehe <3
•°•°○°•°•
Weekends were Suga’s favorite days. Well, after reflexion, he guessed no one disliked them, per se, but for him they’d always meant something special. Sunday especially was something he looked forward to when work drained him from every last drop of energy he possessed.
Sundays were more than the certainty of peace away from noisy children (though he liked the tiny bastards, really, even when they made his head feel like it was splitting open). Sundays were even more than the blessing that was the opportunity to sleep in, for once. His biological clock made the task impossible anyway, he was awake around eight thirty without fault, no matter what he’d done or how late he went to bed the previous day.
Sundays were waking up gently to quiet snoring, a heavy arm slung around his waist that pinned him comfortably to the mattress. Sundays were basking in the feeling of utter serenity that Daichi’s presence always brought him, admiring the morning light play with the relaxed angles of the beloved face, or sometimes, on the rare occasions where his boyfriend awoke before him, it was feeling a hand lightly brush his hair, trail down his cheeks to touch the mole under his eye, and knowing he was loved.
On weekdays, Daichi always had to get up early. This also meant he could pick up Suga from work in the afternoon, when around six he’d get out exhausted of the battlefield they called Primary Schools, but they never got to share mornings. It was just the way life rolled, and the rhythm felt good after all this time, but it also made weekends feel even more precious. They both knew they only had two days of waking up next to each other, and they very early decided that they had to make the most of it.
Saturdays were lazy mornings, waking up with the sun and peppering kisses on each other’s faces until they felt motivated enough to stray from the warm sheets onto the cold tiles of the bathroom. But Sundays were better. On Sundays they’d usually spend most of the daylight hours in their pajamas, not bothering to dress up or go out for anything. More often than not, the day started with a ritual they adopted a while ago, when they were both studying and only going home on weekends : breakfast in bed.
Everything about it made Suga so damn happy he sometimes thought it should be illegal. His chest felt close to bursting every time he watched Daichi walk into the bedroom, eyes still full of sleep and the softest smile on his face, carrying a tray full of food. Nothing really fancy, often just toast, fruit and some coffee or tea, but there was something special about eating it curled against each other, legs still under the covers.
At first, it was the domesticity of it all that had Suga weak. When they were still at University, having been dating for just over a year and seeing each other only once per week. It was slowly waking up to the sounds of water boiling and the smell of food cooking, knowing Daichi hated crumbs between the sheets but still took the decision to eat there just so they could have a moment of peace before Suga had to take his train in the early afternoon.
Now that they were living together, had a stable schedule and knew that they had whole evenings just for themselves, they could have stopped. But they both loved too much this amazing feeling that the ritual gave them, of being like in a bubble away from the world and free to bask in each other's warmth, to ever think about giving it up.
This morning again, as Daichi walked into the room, juggling a tray on his left arm and trying to open the curtains with his right so that they could see what they were doing, Suga felt the familiar sensation fill his lungs. He smiled tenderly, pecking his boyfriend on the lips as soon as he was back in the bed.
“Good morning to you too, Koshi.” laughed Daichi, surprised by the gesture but not complaining.
Suga giggled like a teenager, taking a peach from the tray, noticing the pink that now dusted the man’s ears and cheekbones. He had successfully caught him off-guard, and the tenderness with which his soon-to-be-husband now looked at him was the best reward he could ask for.
The teacher let his head fall on the other man’s shoulder, just appreciating the total lack of tension in his body, which was something rare enough to be mentioned. He closed his eyes for a minute or two and felt lips brush the top of his head.
“Love you.” he said in a breath, perfectly content, bringing the covers closer to his body for extra warmth.
“Love you too.” answered Daichi without missing a beat, a smile audible in his voice.
His arm went around Suga’s shoulders and stayed there, a comfortable weight. The latter sighed happily.
