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starksbabie · 1 year

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baby bath time. [blurb.]

event masterlists: nyx’s half, eun’s half

summary: Bucky gives his sweet little girl her bath before bedtime.

featured from the Barnes family: Bucky Barnes (dad), Becca Barnes (3-year-old daughter)

warnings: Nothing but some silly bathtime fun

an: Thank you for reading this fun little peace from the “aww, avengers” kid fic collection. I hope you enjoy it! As always reblogs are deeply appreciated as that is how our blogs grow.

Bucky carries Becca into the bathroom and sets her down on the rug while he turns on the tap. He tests the water on his wrist making sure that it’s not too hot, and not too cold before he stops up the drain and gently sets his toddler in the water.

“Daddy! Duckies!” Becca reaches for the toys, hanging in the mesh bag by the spicket.

“Okay, okay little one, it’s coming.” He dumps Becca’s toys into the water and smiles as she squeals and grabs her ducks.

“Quack! Quack!” She waves the yellow duck in the air and drops it laughing like a maniac as the water gently splashes up on her belly.

Bucky can’t help but smile at her antics, “That’s right, my little duck. Ducks say, quack quack.”

He gently covers her forehead and uses a cup to wet her hair before massaging some sweet-smelling soap into her scalp. He then tips her back and gently rinses the soap from her hair. Becca squirms a bit as the soap is rinsed clear.

“I know, I know little duck, almost done. We just must wash you clean, then you can play with your tub toys until bedtime.”

Bucky pours a little more soap onto a washcloth and gently makes sure that Becca is scrubbed clean. He then uses the cup to make sure all the soap is rinsed from her skin so that she won’t get irritated.

Becca sits up and grabs her fishing pole that’s floating in the water and looks around for the fish, she smiles when she spots the orange clownfish floating down at the end of the tub. She uses the end of the pole and the magnet clicks to the fish, she squeals and waves the pole around, the fish swinging wildly, “Daddy, look! I did it!” She pulls the fish off the pole and sticks it to her dad’s arm, giggling as it sticks to his metal bicep, “Daddy! Fishy kisses!”

Bucky looks down at the fish sticking out from his vibranium arm and starts to laugh, “You got me, little duck.” He kisses her head softly and plays with her, catching the fish and letting her stick them to his arm until the water cools.

He drains the tub while Becca puts all her toys back in her mesh bag. He lifts her out of the tub and wraps her in her ducky towel, the hood with the duck bill sitting a little crooked on her head. He dries her off and helps her into her pajamas, “Love you so much, little duck. Now let’s pick a story for bed.”

#aww avengers #onyx writes things #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #dad!bucky barnes #marvel kid fic #mcu #mcu fanfiction #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #avengers #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes drabble #avengers fanfiction

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juiles · 30 days

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Food poisoning blues

Requested: no

Plot: y/n gets food poisoning and deals with the after math with her moms

tags: fluff

Triggers: vomiting, sickness, food poisoning, dryheaving.

Masterlist here. Sticking out sucks masterlist here. Taglist here. Request form here.

A/N: i got a really bad case of food poisoning this weekend and due to my mums immune system, she couldnt give me any affection or help me at all (i had to clean up my vomit) and even though im 27, i for sure cried for my mommy cause thats all who i wanted at the time aha. because of that i felt the need to write this to get what i needed.

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Y/n’s POV

I sat on my bed staring at the wall, my stomach grumbling loudly as a wave of nausea hit my stomach so hard I had to run to the bathroom and barely made it to the toilet in time to puke my guts out. I heard a bang and felt a hand on my forehead before I jerked back as another wave of nausea hit me again and I threw up into the toilet again, feeling my mama’s hand graze against my head and pulled the red strands back into a secure ponytail.

My stomach gurgled and I leaned back against Natasha’s warm body, my arms wrapping around my stomach. She pushed the baby hairs out of my face and sighed sadly. “You’ve got a fever love.” She mumbled into my temple. I groaned turning into her and mumbled nothings into her.

“I’m going to call your mom in okay peanut?” I heard her mumble into my hair before peeling me off herself and placing a small kiss on my forehead. It felt like a few seconds later when my bathroom door opened with a thud and I felt another cool hand on my forehead. “Oh detka.” A calm sokovian voice murmured and I looked up and saw a small blob of red and brown hair floating above me.

“Mommy…” I murmured before another round of nausea hit me so hard I couldn’t even lean forward towards the toilet before it came up, all over me and my already sweaty pyjamas. A small gasp was heard before a hand reached forward and helped pull me towards the toilet where I took a few moments of dry heaving before my body stopped again. I looked back at my moms who now looked a little more focused, I could make out the pouts on their faces.

“Detka… shall we get you in the tub to clean you off a little?” Wanda asked. I whined sitting back against Natasha again.

Wanda’s POV

When Natasha dashed down the stairs, a look of panic in her eyes. “Sick.” It was one word that made my stomach plummet. I bolted up the stairs and skittered into my daughters bathroom to see her curled up in a ball on the floor. “Oh detka…” I murmured before her face looked up at me with the saddest green eyes, glazed over with a fever. She looked so small and weak at that moment, it was almost hard to forget how hard her life had been. I felt Nat place her hand on my back and I looked up with a small pout then back at our new daughter.

“Mommy…” My heart stuttered for a moment before y/n threw up all over herself. I gasped lightly and helped move her towards the toilet to catch the rest of her vomit before she started to dry heave. After she finished, I pushed the hair out of her face and looked at the young girl who leaned back into my girlfriend who had slid into place behind her.

“Detka… shall we get you in the tub to clean you off a little?” I asked, the pout on my face increasing when I saw the sad little face she gave me before leaning whining into Nat. “Do you want me and mama to help you?” I asked, the girl barely managed to lift her head with a small nod. “Alright princess. Let mama help you take off those yucky pj’s off while I start the bath.”

I looked at Nat who nodded and started stripping the wet clothes off the girl. I turned to the tub and turned the tap on to luke warm water before plugging the tub and grabbing the shampoo and soap. I saw Nat place the girl in the water before we both heard a high pitch whine. “Mommy!!!!” I cupped her cheek. “Mommy cold!!!!”

“I know baby… itll warm up soon. Mommy is gonna wash your hair and your body okay?” I asked softly. We couldn’t even get an answer out of her so I took a loofah and slowly washed her body down before rinsing her off. She sat in the water for a few more minutes after Nat and I decided to see if it would help with the fever.

“Mommy done…” She muttered reaching for me, trying to get away from the cold water that Nat had placed her in. “Mommy out please…” I grabbed a towel and scooped the girl up, with the help of Nat, wrapping her up in the fluffy towel. Green eyes widened and I quickly got the girl leaning over the toilet before she threw up once more, this time only stomach acid coming out. She whined after dry heaving for a few more minutes before I pulled her into me, with the help of Tasha, I got her tucked up into her bed, me sitting beside her, her head buried in my lap while Nat got herself cleaned up.

I brushed her hair the best I could then quickly braided it to keep it out of her face. “That’s it sweet girl… mommys got you…” I muttered running my hand up and down her back.

“Mama too…?” Green eyes shined up at me, tears forming in them as she sniffled. “Want mommy and mama…” I nodded humming slightly.

“Yes detka. Mama is just cleaning herself off.” Her eyes widened. “Its not your fault princess. What do you wanna watch while we cuddle hmm?”

“Sleepy…”

“I know baby… mommy will put on your favourite hmm? You can watch until you fall asleep baby.” I grabbed the remote off the bedside table and turned on Netflix. I flicked through until I got to Matilda the musical. I clicked on it, lowering the volume slightly so she could fall asleep. “Do you need anything else princess?”

“Mama mommy cuddles… hurts…” She whined curling up against her stomach.

“I know princess. Mama is grabbing the bucket in case you get sick again. Try and sleep baby…”

Nat finally came back in, holding a bucket, two glasses of water, our phones and her favourite blanket from our bed. The redhead crawled into bed beside our daughter, so the girl was buried in between the two of us. The girl instantly curled up into her mamas arms as well, as I set the glass of water down beside me that Nat had handed to me. We both held her tight as she shook from the fever.

It was about 30 minutes later she jerked out of my arms and towards the bucket and dry heaved. Her cries breaking my heart.

Y/n’s POV

I had finally settled in between my parents when I felt the bubbling in my stomach. I whined curling in on my self, my mama rubbing my back, my mom rubbing small circles on my stomach. I don’t know how long I lasted before the churning came back and I had to jerk up, grabbing the bucket beside my mama and retched, nothing left in me to come up so it was just dry heaving.

I felt mama’s hand rubbing my back in circles as I cried. The pain was so intense as I tried to get it out, whatever it was. My body was shaking like crazy as I sobbed into the bucket. Finally I felt the last of it and was able to sit back, once again wrapping my arms around my stomach. “No more mama…”

“I know baby… itll be over soon…” I curled back up into my mothers and tried to fall back asleep. “She hasn’t really left the compound recently… it can’t be a bug…” I heard mama whisper to mom.

“It must be food poisoning, she had that sushi the other day… it must not be agreeing with her body…” Mom whispered lightly. I moaned, which had the both of them hushing the other.

“Mommy done now?” I looked up at the blue eyes that stared at me with nothing but love and admiration. “No more?”

“Oh bug… it’ll be a little longer and you'll feel a little yucky for the next few days but mommy and mama will be with you the whole time.”

Taglist: @asiangmrchk13 @boredandneedfanfics @mythixmagic @natashamaximoff-69

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sarahowritesostucky · 1 month

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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Tags: dark!Bucky, mafia/mob au, dubcon/noncon, a/b/o, threats and coercion, non-con, forced pregnancy, forced domestic "bliss", mating, breeding, hate to strong affection, yandere, kid fic

Summary: You thought you'd left behind the alpha who turned out to be more dangerous than you'd ever imagined. But one day he walks back into your life and reminds you that, come hell or high water, you're all going to be one happy. little. family.

Masterlist

Daddy's Home (Series teaser)

Episode 1: A Clever, Tricky Little Kitty Cat: Just like Her Mommy

Episode 2: Taking Back What's His

Episode 3: The Lap of Luxury

Episode 4: Motherhood Suits You

Episode 5: Should've Done this Years Ago

Epilogue: A Storybook Romance Once Again

Nickname Dictionary: vorishka = "little thief" mamochka = "mommy/little mother" kotenok= "kitty/kitten" omegya = (made up) Russian spelling of omega omegechka = (made up) "little omega" shlyukha = "slut" krasotka = "Pretty(n.)/pretty one" milashka = "cutie patootie" malen'kiy = "little one" malyshka = "little girl" pchelka = "little bee"

@cjand10, @violetwinterwidow01, @ppbhquinn, @myfavbuckyfics, @liannafae, @sadsackssss, @timidquindim, @dakotali, @rayofdawnworld, @wintrsoldrluvr, @lindasweetie

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cerealboxlore · 9 months

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you know those posts where cap’s seen as a dad figure? what if one of the reasons why the other superheroes think that way is because when league members bring up there kids or need cap to cover for them when their kids need them cap is just super understanding, empathetic and gets oddly proud of them for being with there for their kids

the actual reason why he’s like that is because billy just really values those things as an orphan and is proud to work with such great people

Whenever someone mentions or even breathes the implication of Cap being mistaken as a dad or seen as a father figure, I lose my marbles, because, oh cheese and crackers, I just can't express enough how much I adore this headcanon! I'm doin' a little happy dance :D

Billy Batson is someone who has always yearned and wished to be a part of a family again since his experience was cut short due to tragedy and made sour thanks to his uncle Ebeneezer being crusty dusty, so it's easy to see him respecting those who appreciate the family they have. He had to grow up and mature far faster than any kid his age, and compared to most adults, Billy is actually more mature and responsible than they are, unfortunately. It's reasonable to see that this would be reflected in Captain Marvel; someone who's immature at times, but ultimately a good-natured person with a golden heart and good intentions, who others can depend on anytime and anywhere (much to the sacrifice of his personal life).

Billy has been in enough foster homes at a young age to know the difference between a good parent and a rotten one, so seeing members of the league prioritize their family members and kids would make him really happy. He's the type to take on any shift or mission in the place of another member if they had something important to do with their family. What you said about him being very proud and empathetic towards parents in the league made me realize that Billy would have loved to have parents like them had his own not perished. In a way, he's not just proud of them, but a little bit envious.

This also brings up another headcanon of mine, where Captain Marvel is the unofficial designated babysitter of the league when emergencies come up. Because despite not knowing who he is/his secret identity, people trust him enough to let him know theirs. Like, it all starts with the Captain in the watchtower break room drinking apple juice, and is suddenly bombarded with a group of children or sidekicks being thrown at him by the other heroes, saying that the Captain was in charge while they were away before teleporting away.

All these kids and teenagers that he suddenly has to help look after, and while Captain Marvel is calm on the outside, Billy Batson is freaking out on the inside. Some of those kids are older than he is, and there's some hilarity to it. Shenanigans ensue in the Captain Marvel: Adventures in Babysitting day, but it all turns out okay in the end. As a kid, Billy would know how to talk to them and keep them busy with fun/educational stuff. Might even teach them a thing or two about good morals, manners, archeology, or ancient magic stuff.

I imagine some of those kids would want to be babysat by him again, and Billy would welcome it (with warning ahead of time). Captain Marvel is just someone people like being around with his good dad vibes. Some of them even ask if he has kids of his own, but are met with an empty room immediately as the man zooms off whenever people ask him questions about family.

Gosh I went rambling again, but I loved this ask!

#this was such a lovely ask #tysm for the ask!#billy batson #dc captain marvel #shazam #justice league #cap is a good dad figure #imagine before batman knows captain marvel is really just billy he asks him to babysit damian and jon while he and superman go on a mission #Now that is a fic i want to write #the chaos #the fun #the angst when billy wants to be their friend but has to be the adult first #this kid can hold so much power and responsibility on his shoulders #So sorry I havent answered this one in forever!#stuck in my drafts for a while #ask me anything anytime!#I love answering asks!#sorry if there's any spelling errors

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bonebrokebuddy · 2 years

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“I don’t understand why you’re so adamant on asking me this, Hal. I just mentioned to Barry that I talked with the head Easter Bunny once and now everyone keeps asking me if I think the Easter Bunny is real! Why do people keep asking me? I’ve met them. I don’t understand why I have to ‘believe’ in the Easter Bunny for them to be real! They exist!”

Hal put his hands up and stepped back, clearly not expecting the frustrated and somewhat hostile response of Billy who slumped back into his seat, which was slightly less satisfying in his bulkier body, and began running his hands through his hair.

The repetition of being interrogated over a simple comment was not only bewildering but had gotten increasingly more annoying to answer as somehow the members of The Justice League, the literal most powerful group of people on earth, didn’t seem to understand a piece of basic knowledge.

Billy was not only very tired of being asked the same thing but even more-so he wanted the laughing at his ordinary response to stop.

He paused and looked Hal dead in the eyes then began to speak in the most dead tone Hal had ever heard from the usually cheerful man.

“Hal, I know the Easter Bunnies are real because I had to spend two, very long weeks personally overseeing the creation of their union that made sure they no longer routinely experience unsafe working conditions and helped establish 8 hour working days so they no longer get overworked or are required to do 80 hour weeks prepping for Easter and get punished for doing less or don’t get paid”,

Billy’s previously slow, blank tone grew more rushed and frustrated as he went on,

“I mean, I didn’t even do much other than sit there and look intimidating by throwing around lightning sometimes and make sure the Easter chicks didn’t do any funny business or tamper with the legal process!

It was in all the papers in Fawcett! I had my picture taken with them and everything. But Hal. I can guarantee you that the Easter Bunny exists. Please. Please stop fucking asking me.” Finally done, Billy slumped onto the table with a loud clunk.

Hal stood there shocked for a moment. “Marvel, did you just imply there’s multiple easter bunnies and they established a form of government?!”

Billy, with seemingly tremendous emotional effort, lifted his head from the table by a few inches and looked Hal in the eyes with a pleading tone, “If I just say no, will you please stop asking me?”

“Absolutely not, now I have even more questions”

Billy let his head fall back onto the table with an even louder clunk and groaned.

#captain marvel #billy batson #dc #shazam #dc captain marvel #this is apart of a larger Fawcett world building thing I’m working on #won’t be a fic but will be a massive chunk of ideas on how cool it would be for Fawcett Citys logic to run how a genuine child would expect #& have it be partially the reason why marvel is just sorta Like That #hes not actually naieve. it’s just how logic works in Fawcett #including the tooth fairy and the Easter bunny existing within Fawcett #as Fawcett city operates like how a kid imagines it would #teachers actually live at school. there’s a floor in all Fawcett school buildings thate residential space for staff #if someone needs glasses and loses them. they simply cannot see Velma style #Monsters under the bed are also real. Some people keep them as pets.#i got so much more. it’s gonna be a blast once I get to finally finishing it.#but currently I’m having fun exploring the misconceptions a kid has of the world and how & if I can apply it to the au #this is also my first time writing anything non dnd setup description in about 5 years so please give me some leeway #bones writes

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helps-the-writing-brain-go · 8 months

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Dad Marvel: Connor's Confession (1)

Wally is silent for a beat too long and Connor cranes his neck up, wondering if the speedster had left without notice.

Wally is still there, staring at him with a myriad of emotions zigging in his eyes. Stun and glee first and foremost, but a little bit of melancholy as well? Was Connor reading him right?

"You weren't even adopted." He says softly, mouth curving into one of the gentlest smiles he'd ever seen on the chronologically older boy. "Cap was your dad from the start."

Connor blinks at him, turning the thought over in his head. It was true wasn't it? Regardless of his connection to Superman, to Luthor, to the various male role models in his life, Captain Marvel had somehow wormed himself into pride of place on a singular pedestal in his heart known as 'Dad'.

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right." Connor replies, ducking his head to hide how his face warms. It's not exactly a surprise now that he's really thinking on it, but there's a new spark of embarrassment in acknowledging the fact in full. Captain Marvel was his guardian, his guide, yeah, but the thought of calling him dad to his face...

It was more appealing than he'd thought it'd be.

"Is there...should I tell him?" Connor asks, then redirects as his will firms up, "Or, I mean, is there a special time I should tell him?"

The Team and the Captain had been good for him, but he still had his moments of social obliviousness. Somehow this seemed important enough that even if the Captain were likely to accept his attachment regardless; Connor wanted it to be perfect - to convey exactly how he felt to the man who had accepted him so wholeheartedly, flaws and accompanied baggage and all.

Wally leans back a little at his intensity, but the other boy is already bouncing on his feet,grin widening, infected by Connor's excitement.

"Oh man, this is going to be so good."

#billy batson #captain marvel #shazam #fic idea #dad marvel #connor kent #superboy #wally west #kid flash #Captain Marvel Adopts Superboy

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reblogglelog · 9 months

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Sad Boy Hours: Billy Batson

He's trying so hard to get the screaming adults in the room to just stop screaming at each other and be reasonable.

He is immediately dismissed and storms off, justifiably insulted.

And Billy goes right back to blaming himself, trying to figure out where he went wrong, how he could have fixed things, managed the emotions of the room better--even though he is 100% correct and the adults are absolutely failing, and badly.

"Even if he's wrong...I should respect him." Honey, the thing that's eating at you is the absolute dogshit way they act and then expect you to just accept as normal. These grown-ass heroes should not be hitting each other.

And a degree, honey. Several of them.

He sounds like a teacher trying to get the class to behave and that script keeps failing him. Over and over the adults around him dismiss him for his optimism, ignore his calls for reason. And they're heroes. They're the good guys and they tear into each other regularly and viciously. And Billy is fifteen years old in a room of adults screaming at each other. The team is sometimes down right abusive, and this child is trying to keep them from falling apart.

I worry about him, ya know?

(anyway, thank you for coming to my Sad Boy Hours)

#justice league 80s #jli #justice league international #billy batson #shazam #dc captain marvel #i found so many moments of billy being an absolute sweetie pie and trying desperately to get people to get along #it kinda breaks my heart a little because he's just 15 and these are Grown Ass Adults in the MOST hostile work environment #i got a LOT of feelings about the Emotional Support Child #possibly eldest daughter syndrome but all the kids are older than you and y'all have no parents #he's literally a child soldier #kind of inspired by a fic i read the other day #and just watching billy get emotional slapped around because he Cares #sad boy hours #when the most mature person on the team is the only one who hasn't finished puberty #and i get this is kinda the joke but the sad boy hours got me so #ANGST #“its not that deep” IT IS TO ME

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blackhillverse · 11 months

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so you want to tell me that after the blip when maria learnt that natasha romanoff, her soulmate, had sacrificed herself for the whole world, she was actually ALONE? that she tried to manage everything on her own and deal with the after-blip chaos without nick’s help? that nick didn’t respond to her messages? THE ANGST PEOPLE, THE ANGST???!!!

#GOD #this woman suffered so much #and she was left alone to deal with it #and also to restore the order in the world at the same time???#are you fucking kidding me #the FICS #i need ANGST #maria hill will never rest will she #give her a break she is literally holding back tears every time she talks to fury in this small snippet #insane #wicked #maria hill #blackhill #marvel #secret invasion #mcu #marvel cinematic universe

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mahoganydoodles · 3 months

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Thala + Sharpening this Spear by @bardocksheadband-fanfics, author’s copy.

While in Talokan, Shuri conceived Namor’s daughter and after everything that happened, she decided to keep her a secret. Unfortunately for her, Namor has been using the ocean to communicate with the child since she was born. When Thala follows the voice that has been talking to her and she finally meets her baba, she gets more than she bargained for. Her father is not only slightly unhinged, but has been pining for her mother for over a decade.

45,093 words | 213 pages

Thala is SUCH a sweet story, both the fic (seriously, so sweet!!!) and how this bind came to be! This was actually a bind requested by some of the Nashuri community as a gift for the author. After reading Thala, I was totally charmed + of course agreed to bind a physical copy for the author, working through the details with the wonderful @malakki142 and @elegantfirepoetry to coordinate FOUR different artists’ work for the fic + more.

Since Thala features a child of both Talokan and Wakanda, I leaned into themes of blue, green, and palm fronds for the cover material, endpapers, and other decoration. These colors also match the inside, which features a hand-drawn border of Thala’s necklace and tidal wave chapter titles. Both Thala and Namor control water in this fic, so of course the ATLA water tribe symbol was an easy choice to break up the sections.

This was my first time using foil to gild edges, which I think turned out pretty okay for the first time! Its lovely shiny color matches the half beads used for the headbands and the foil used in the cover cutouts, also representing Thala’s necklace. Since a child OC is the driving force of the fic, I wanted to create something vibrant, childlike, but still clean, and I’m so happy with how it turned out!

Thala is a OC kid!fic that weaves a story of how time and family can help overcome the hurt of Black Panther: Wakanda Forever. Read it on AO3, + thank you bardocksheadband for writing it and to the INCREDIBLE incredible artists (Pomelo on Twitter, @darkkittyart, @midnight-oily, and @anonymousmink) for their wonderful art contributions which made this bind extra special!

#fanficbookbinding #fanbinding #bookbinding #marvel #wakanda forever #black panther #bpwf #princess shuri #namor #nashuri #namor x shuri #fanfic #ficbinding #mcu #kid fic

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starksbabie · 1 year

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sweetest slumber [blurb.]

event masterlists: nyx’s half, eun’s half

summary: Natasha brings her infant daughter home from the hospital, she reflects on all she went through to get to this point while her newborn sleeps on her chest.

featured from the Romanoff family: Natasha Romanoff (mom), Evva (infant daughter)

warnings: None other than some heart-melting fluff

an: Thank you for reading this fun little peace from the “aww, avengers” kid fic collection. I hope you enjoy it! As always reblogs are deeply appreciated as that is how our blogs grow.

Natasha sets the infant car seat on top of the dresser in the nursery, the room that she’s spent hours decorating, making sure each piece coordinates and is comforting but not overstimulating. She gently undoes the latches and lifts out the itty-bitty bundle that is her sleeping daughter Evva. Natasha sits in the rocking chair by the window and rests the infant on her chest, making sure she’s comfortable and warm as she gently rocks.

Through all her years of first being an assassin, then being an avenger, she never allowed herself to have this dream. She relegated herself to just being auntie Nat, but nothing could compare to this feeling: the amazing warmth she felt when the nurse handed her Evva, just a day prior.

The auburn-haired ex-assassin looks out the window and almost cannot believe that this is her life. That she is finally getting the chance she always wanted to be a mom. She’s so thankful for the adoption agency for approving her, and for the young woman who chose her to be Evva’s mom.

Evva shifts in her arms and she glances down at the chubby-cheeked cherub resting against her and smiles, “it’s okay, detka, you’re safe. I swear I will never let anything happen to you,” she presses a soft kiss to her daughter’s forehead as she settles back into sleep.

She thinks about all the firsts she’s going to get to experience right along with Evva. First smile, first steps, first day of school, first time at the gun range, old habits die hard after all. Natasha doesn’t even realize that she’s crying until the first tear drips off her chin. She wipes her face and snuggles her baby closer.

Evva stirs and wakes as she’s shuffled and looks up at her mom, letting out a soft sound.

Natasha looks down at her and smiles, her voice a little wet as she speaks, “I’m sorry, detka. I didn’t mean to wake you,” she keeps gently rocking in the chair hoping to keep Evva settled.

Evva yawns gently and stretches out, grabbing a fistful of her mom’s shirt before closing her eyes again, resting her head over Natasha’s heart and letting the gentle rocking motion of the chair, and the soft dun-dun of her mother’s heart lull her back to sleep.

Natasha thanks her lucky stars that she seems to have a calm baby, but who knows what the next weeks, and months will bring. All she knows is that she is excited for this new chapter, where she finally gets to be exactly who she wants to be.

#aww avengers #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fic #mcu #marvel kid fic #mom!natasha #avengers #black widow #natasha fanfic #avengers fanfiction #sweetest slumber #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romaoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff drabble #natasha romanoff blurb #natasha romaoff fluff

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daydreamerwonderkid · 10 months

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To all the AO3 authors that write Billy Batson Gets Adopted by Bruce Wayne fics:

Never stop making jokes about Billy's last name. I promise you it is not an old or worn out joke. That shit is god tier and I will defend you all to the end of space and time.

#billy batson #shazam #captain marvel #bruce wayne #batman #batman fanfiction #captain marvel fanfiction #i especially love the fics where #all the batkids take turns #not just roasting bruce for adopting another kid #but then to proceed to obliterate him #over billy's last name #that shit is hilarious #dreamer talks

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steevbuckk · 7 months

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FAVORITE STUCKY FICS | 51/100

Sinking Our Teeth In The Heart Of The Sun by @stevebuckyrightsonly

[Kid fic, 102 861 words, Explicit]

Summary:

Bucky Barnes never intended to become a single father at 25. But life has always enjoyed kicking him while he's down and it's showing no signs of stopping. A chance meeting with a brick wall of a guy named Steve in the formula aisle of the grocery store leads to a friendship it seems like both of them need. If only Bucky could remember that's all they are- friends. If only Steve didn't slot into their lives so perfectly and look so good spoiling Bucky's daughter (and Bucky, despite his protests).

Oh, if only Steve didn't turn out to be Captain America.

Steve Rogers is wandering around a world that he doesn't fit into, fighting for a government that he doesn't trust, just because he doesn't know what to do with himself if he ever relaxes long enough to actually think about anything other than the next mission.

And then came Bucky Barnes and his newborn baby.

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phanboyo · 10 months

Text

Captain Marvel had been left on monitor duty on Saturday night. Again. He couldn't really complain, since he'd started to try going back to school his availability for JL duties had been limited a little bit on weekdays. Not that he wouldn't cut school to help out if he were called, but the JL generally tried to be pretty accommodating when it came to civilian identity stuff, even if they didn't know his. And it's not like he usually had any weekend plans as Billy, anyway. Besides, the Watchtower had better food than the stuff he could usually scrounge up himself on the weekends.

Admittedly he hadn't been paying much attention to the monitors. Most of the JL were on Earth in their respective cities doing whatever it was they usually did on Saturday nights, and though it may be irresponsible, Marvel figured they could handle things as usual.

This is how Marvel justified taking a short break to grab a snack from the cafeteria, empty save for Hal, who had microwaved a burrito and left. This is also how Marvel let his short break turn into a long break while he read through a couple of the comic books Freddy had leant him. This long break is why Marvel had completely missed the entire earth being engulfed in supernatural plants.

Staring out the large window in the monitor room at the big green ball that had been his planet, Captain Marvel dropped the blueberry muffin he had brought from the cafeteria.

"Oops."

Marvel flew to the monitors and flitted from screen to screen, trying to figure out what had happened. There were a few short calls that had come through from Wonder Woman, Martian Manhunter, Superman, and a few others inquiring what was happening. Marvel hadn't answered because he had been in the cafeteria. "Crap, crap, crap," he muttered, "I am so going to get in trouble for this."

The timestamps showed that the calls began to peter out until stopping entirely, the last one from the Flash, a little over 40 minutes ago.

"-ny input from the Tower would be helpful, no one's answering my calls. I don't know how long I can outrun these vines, they're everywhere and they're taking pe—whoa!" There was a crackle of wind, Captain Marvel thought he heard an echoing voice saying something about "feeding the children," straight out of a horror movie. "Man, she's creepy," said Flash under his breath, "the vines are—ah!—Taking people's minds or some—" there was another crackle and the recording lapsed into silence before cutting off entirely.

Captain Marvel hit the call button to the Flash. With each ring his heart climbed higher in his throat, no answer. He called the Batman, no answer, Wonder Woman, Superman, Cyborg, Aquaman, no answer. The planet had stopped emitting signals of any kind, and it seemed that no one was receiving them either.

"Holy heck," Captain Marvel muttered, staring at the hologram of Earth, a big green ball that had gone completely dark.

"Lantern!" Marvel shouted, flying out of the monitor room. "Lantern, there's an emergency!"

The Green Lantern popped his head out of his quarters, his expression turning serious as he saw the panic on Marvel's face as he shot down the hallway. "Cap, what's happened?"

"Mind controlling plants or something?" He said quickly. "No one's answering their comms, I didn't mean to—I didn't think anything would—I just wanted a muffin!"

"What?" Lantern asked, "a muffin?"

"Okay maybe I read some comics too, but it's not even a full moon—weird stuff usually happens on fulls moons and solstices—and with the Tower so empty I didn't think anything bad would—"

"Cap!" Lantern interrupted, "slow down, what happened?"

Marvel took a deep breath. "The Earth has been overtaken by mind-controlling plants?"

Lantern blinked and the two of them sped to the monitor room, a green planet sitting innocently below the Watchtower with the darkness of space as its backdrop. "Well... that's new," he said, his hand coming to scratch at the back of his head. He turned to look at Cap. "Do you know what it is? Or who?"

Marvel shook his head. "It happened too fast, no one knew what was going on. His face suddenly brightened. "Maybe there's something at the Rock of Eternity," he said. With a muttered word an a wide gesture, a portal opened, showing a stone room with glowing arches.

Marvel stepped towards it, but the Green Lantern grabbed his arm. "Wait," he said, "are those vines usually there?"

Marvel looked into the portal and saw fat green vines crawling out of one of the archways. "No," he said, eyebrows furrowing. The vines began to creep towards the portal, spines on the tips glowing green as if in anticipation. "How did they...?" The vines picked up speed and shot towards the portal.

"Close it! Close it!" Lantern shouted, leaping back, hand out, ring glowing green.

With a snap, the portal shut, cutting off the tips of the vines. In a second, they were enveloped in a translucent green sphere, containing them as they grew to fill the small space.

"I don't understand," Captain Marvel said, "the Rock exists in its own realm, it's supposed to be separate from Earth."

"Can't really help you with the magic stuff," Lantern said, examining the ball of vines in its green cage. "Who else is on the Tower tonight?"

"Uh," Captain Marvel shook himself and went to the screens to check. "Plastic Man and the Atom?"

"That's it?" Lantern asked.

Cap shrugged. "It's a Saturday night."

He hummed in acknowledgement. "Well, I guess we'd better let them kn—"

There was a light crackling noise and the vines in the green sphere shriveled. Lantern and Marvel both stared at it.

"Did you do that?" Cap asked.

"Don't think so," he answered. They stared at the black shriveled vines a little longer. Cautiously, Green Lantern opened the top sphere. When the vines didn't move, he dissolved it entirely, and the vines fell to the floor with a wet smack. The two stared at them a little longer.

"So... are they dead?" Captain Marvel asked.

"I think so?" Green Lantern replied.

Captain Marvel looked up out the window at the planet again to find it more or less back to normal. "Oh, I—huh." Another glance at the monitors showed that the planet was transmitting radio again, and signals received were back to normal range. "Crisis averted?"

The Green Lantern looked from the planet to Captain Marvel. "Guess so. Good job." His ring glowed and the blueberry muffin floated up from the floor. "You gonna eat that?"

#dpxdc #fic #boyo makes stuff #my writing #okay so the thought was what was the JL doing when Undergrowth took over the entire planet? and the answer is being incompetent mostly #listen billy batson is in my top 5 blorbos i love this kid but he IS a kid and i can and will write him as a disaster #also i barely know anything about hal jordan so sorry if he's ooc #Batman: Marvel what happened? Marvel: Uh great question! evil plants took over the world and were defeated. Good prevails again!#batman: defeated by whom? Marvel: great question! no idea! Batman: hn.#flash: lets just be glad it was fixed we've got too much else to worry about to look for someone who's obviously on our side anyway.#batman: hnn. *starts conspiracy board*#undergrowth

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sarahowritesostucky · 9 days

Text

Happy Little Family

📖"Taking Back What's His"

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6170

Tags: dark!Bucky, mafia/mob au, dubcon/noncon, a/b/o, threats and coercion, rape, forced pregnancy, forced domestic "bliss", yandere, kid fic

Summary: You thought you'd left behind the man who turned out to be more dangerous than you'd ever imagined. But one day he walks back into your life and reminds you that, come hell or high water, you're all going to be one happy. little. family.

This chapter: You try one last, desperate ploy to escape, but it doesn't exactly work out. And James hasn't come alone. The next time you wake up, you're a long way from home.

Nickname Dictionary: vorishka = "little thief" mamochka = "mommy/little mother" kotenok= "kitty/kitten" omegya = (made up) Russian spelling of omega omegechka = (made up) "little omega" krasotka = "Pretty(n.)/pretty one" pchelka = "little bee"

2. Taking Back What's His

(Wait! I haven't read part 1 yet!)

He says something to you, after. Words that might as well be in his native Russian, for how well you take them in. But they're soft, and reassuring—he’s pleased. His body weight moves off the bed.

When you finally open your eyes and blink up at the ceiling, it’s the softest baby pink all around the edges, like smoke curling into your vision. It’s nice, peaceful. Feels good-all-over in that way that painkillers do. You haven’t experienced it since the last time you had sex with an alpha.

Which James unfortunately seems to have figured out was with him, almost two years ago.

“Oh, kotenok, You haven’t been fucking anybody.”

You’re still in the afterglow, mind muzzy, all of your previous panic and fear blunted near to the point of erasure with how nice it feels to float, when you hear James’ pleased chuckle from where he’s getting dressed. He comes back and leans over you. “Hey Sweetheart. Feeling good?”

You frown at him, though it takes a concerted effort to make any expression of displeasure. You want him to know you aren’t happy, that this state he’s fucked you into isn’t real. You want to slap that smug fucking look right off his face. All you manage to come up with is a pouty little “no" that makes James laugh.

“Come here.” He fixes your dress, then helps you up off the bed. He seems to be checking to make sure you’re steady on your feet before he lets you stand on your own. “You good?”

“M’fine.” He knows you too well, knows how intense it can be for you, how strongly you react to him. You avoid his knowing gaze. You’re not completely useless like this. You can still remember everything that’s going on, can still remember June. “Please,” you say again, trying to change the tone of your voice. “Let me give her to Hilde.”

James rolls his eyes. “Right, right. Your friend across the street.”

“Please James?” You look up at him, pink edges all around his face, so pretty. Goddamn him. “She’ll be safe there.”

Again, something passes through his eyes too quickly for you to identify. It might be annoyance. He sighs, and the look, whatever it was, is gone. “Sure thing, Doll. Babies need a lot of stuff. You might as well pack up what she needs.”

You nod tearfully, going to your closet to grab a bag. He follows close behind, sending a clear message that he’s not planning on letting you out of his sights while you do this. James isn’t stupid, you’ll give him that.

In the nursery, June is happy to see you and wants you to pick her up. You talk to her in a sweet, placating voice as you go around the room grabbing different things that she’ll need and stuffing them in the bag. At this point you know to be grateful for the haze. Even as it tapers off, it’s blunting the sorrow that you know would otherwise have you sobbing and your voice clogging with tears. This way at least, you’re able to keep June thinking everything is alright. This way she isn’t scared.

It’s when you’re crouched beside the changing table, stuffing diapers into the bag with James behind you that you get the idea: Downstairs: the kitchen: in the drawer. Your gun.

You stop moving long enough that James notices. “What’re you doing? Come on.”

You stand back up. Yes. You have to do it. This is the only chance you have at getting out of this and not losing June. You lick your lips nervously before turning back around to face him. “I … have to get her bottles and stuff from downstairs,” you say, hoping that the lingering post-coital haze is enough to keep your true intentions off your face. Your eyes flick up to James, who’s squinting at your tits.

“Bottle?” He starts to smirk, and you glare at him.

“Yes. Asshole. I won’t exactly be around to feed her, now will I?”

His face softens at that and he gives you an apologetic look. “Right. Well go on, then.”

You move for the hallway, realize he’s not following you, and turn back in confusion. He’s beside the crib, holding his hand out for June to touch. Your heart leaps from your spot in the doorway. “What are you doing?”

He arches an eyebrow. “I’m waiting right here until you come back upstairs,” he says, his message clear.

Your pulse picks up, but you force yourself to nod. You’re useless without that gun. You have to get to it. He narrows his eyes at you while June giggles and reaches for his wiggling fingers. “No games.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, and turn and head for the stairs.

It’s pure torture to move at a casual speed, especially as your mind is clearing and the fearful emotions returning. In the downstairs hallway, you check once over your shoulder that James hasn’t followed you, then pick up your pace, hurrying into the kitchen and heading straight for the drawer where you keep the gun.

Your eyes tear up as you maneuver past the digital lock that you installed for nothing. June’s still crawling. She never even got old enough to toddle over here. You press the code into the keypad, cringing when it does its quiet little two-tone ‘beep’ at being unlocked. You wait, heart in your throat until you hear the mechanism moving, then rip open the drawer.

Your heart stops and your brain freezes and all you can think is: No. No, no no—

“Looking for this?”

You whirl around, and there he is: standing on the other side of the kitchen, leaning against the sink as he holds your only weapon in his hands.

His face is relaxed, Goddamn him, as he pretends to ignore your horror and instead holds the gun up to flippantly inspect it. “I have to say, Doll, I’m impressed. I would’ve expected some puny girl gun. Ruger, Derringer. But this?” He turns the Skorpion in his hands, and chuckles softly when he sees the cartridge. “Jesus. You really wanted to blow a hole in somebody, didn’t you?” His eyes finally drag up to you, the hand he’s holding the gun with dropping down by his side as he starts walking over, slowly, step by step, eyes boring into you with a growing anger.

Oh shit. Dread curls in your gut but you’re frozen. Bolting now wouldn’t even get you to the staircase. He presses in close, pinning you against the countertop. He brings the gun up and nudges your jaw with it, leaning in and breathing in your face, “Did you really think I wouldn’t find it, vorishka?”[little thief]

He’s taunting you with your own failure, and you can’t stop the whimper that breaks from your throat at having your one and only plan foiled so pathetically easily. “James,” you plead, “I didn’t—”

“Shh sh sh. None of that, now.” He’s speaking softly, sweetly, but he’s furious. He drags his lips over your cheek and the barrel of the gun you stole from him over the other. “So what was the plan? How were you going to kill me with my own gun? Pop upstairs and shoot up the nursery?”

“N-no.”

“Ah. Right. You’re smarter than that. You would’ve waited for me to come down and see what the fuck was taking you so long, or put it in the duffle and waited until we dropped the whelp off at the neighbors. Is that it?"

You sniffle and nod, angry at him for being such an all-knowing asshole. “You can’t hold that against me,” you say, trying to defend yourself.

He nods thoughtfully. “Hmm. Yes, I suppose you’re right. I can’t blame you for that.” Your shoulders start to relax, that is until he pulls back to glare at you and holds the gun to you again, this time pointing it right underneath your chin. He looks angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “But do you know what I can hold against you, Little thief?” Your face pinches in fear, sure that you’re about to be shot, and he digs the muzzle cruelly into your skin, forcing you to look at him. “The fact that that pup up there is ten months old, and I’ve never even fucking seen her.”

Your eyes widen as you realize: he knows. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but he beats you to it.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t be able to tell she’s mine?”

“James,”

“All this time!” he hisses, hurt lancing through his features. “You kept her from me! What gives you the right?”

“I—I didn’t—”

He growls and pushes away from you, several steps back, glaring. “Nothing, is the answer you’re looking for. You had no right to do that.”

You try to edge to the side, but freeze when he straightens his arm and points the gun right at you. “James, wait …”

He aims it at your face, but then lowers it for a center mass shot, which is what really convinces you you’re about to die. “Say goodbye, mamochka,” he says, with steely eyes and his finger curling over the trigger.

It’s a submachine gun that fires in three shot bursts, or fully automatic. Either way, you know you’re about to be riddled with bullets, so you start to hyperventilate. It’s an embarrassing reaction, but at least you have the dignity of knowing what your last words on this earth would’ve been. “Don’t hurt her,” you gasp.

His eyes fill with rage and he pulls the trigger.

… Nothing happens, but you’re bracing so hard that it takes you a full two or three seconds to realize it. Then, when you do realize it, and you see James standing there looking grim but completely unsurprised that you haven’t been shot, all of the breath rushes out of your lungs. You feel like you’re about to faint, which is apparently what he’s waiting for.

He ejects the empty magazine, shaking his head in disbelief. “You really thought I’d do it, didn’t you?” He takes a step forward, but pauses when you flinch back. “What the hell have you convinced yourself that I am?”

You step back again when he moves. “Don’t,” you whisper. “Don’t.”

“Don’t, don’t,” he whispers, mocking you. “Don’t what? Don’t take back what’s mine? The mother of my pup? A pup I didn’t get to see grow or come into this world?” Your breath hitches with emotion and he doesn’t miss it, the bastard. “Yeah,” he says darkly. “You robbed me of that. But I’ll get over it, don’t worry.” He leers up and down your body in its flimsy sundress. “I’ll be putting another one in you real soon.”

You see red. Fury sweeps through you and stings your eyes, roars in your ears. You grab the nearest thing to you, which is the edge of the utensils crock on the counter. It spills over and your hand closes around the handle of the meat mallet. You cry out and swing at him, wanting to smash his smug fucking face to smithereens.

“Woah-ho, easy there.” He laughs and takes a surprised step back, as though you’re nothing but a tantruming child. “Stop being so dramatic.”

You growl and lunge for him again, but cut off in a shriek as someone suddenly grabs you from behind. The meat mallet clatters to the floor as you’re hauled back against the hard body of another man. One big arm wraps around your middle, and the other holds a cloth up at your face, pressing it over your mouth. “Mmph!” you yell out, muffled, and get a huge inhale of chlorine-like smell into your lungs for your trouble. You hold your breath and thrash, but it’s less than useless. The person holding you is large and strong. When you try to headbutt him, it doesn't even clip his chin. You bring your hands up to try and claw at the hand holding the cloth over your mouth, but your nails meet metal instead of skin, and you gasp in another inhale of chemicals as you realize who it is. “Mmph!”

James steps up close, smirking fondly as he watches you fighting the urge to inhale. Eventually he tuts and reaches up to cup your cheek. “Shhh, omegechka. Stop. Stop fighting now. It’s all over.”

“Nngh!”

“Just take a deep breath and go to sleep. Everything’ll be alright, I promise. Just relax.” You whimper as you feel yourself running out of air, knowing that your body’s going to force you to draw breath in a second. James leans in and kisses your forehead tenderly. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispers, just as your vision starts to fade out, “or our daughter.”

The smell of professionally scented, circulating air hits you first, and then the taste of old pennies in your mouth. Then, a gradually increasing sense of awareness of your body in space and time. At first you think you're somewhere very bright, as colors and rainbows dance through your lashes, but the more you blink your eyes open, the more the brightness fades and your vision comes into focus.

And there he is: holding a crystal tumbler and looking like he's been waiting for you to come round. "Well hello there, Sleepyhead,” he says. “Welcome back." He takes a sip of whatever it is he’s drinking, the ice cubes clinking softly against the sides of the glass. He looks totally relaxed.

You sit up straighter in the seat where you’d been slumped, moving your tongue around inside of your dry mouth and trying to remember what happened. And then reality hits you in waves, each one more devastating than the last:

James—He found you.

June—She's not there.

"How're you feeling? Thirsty?"

You blink, dazed, a few lingering specks still floating at the edges of your vision. You look around the room you’re in, clocking your surroundings. Windows, cabin—Shit. You're already on a plane. Pressure builds rapidly at the backs of your eyes as you fight not to cry, thinking of your baby girl left behind, never getting to see her again.

You didn’t even get to say goodbye.

Bucky’s eyes sharpen on you when your stifled sob breaks out and you throw a hand over your mouth. "Steve,” he says, still watching you in concern. “Get her a bottle of water."

“Sure thing, boss.”

And then the worst realization of all: You look over and see the winter fucking soldier walking down the aisle, holding your baby.

They've got June.

Your eyes widen and you make a distressed little ‘meep’ of a sound. “Steve!” you blurt, and he turns to face you. He looks surprised that you’ve spoken directly to him. He’s not wearing his usual black mask, but he still looks huge and intimidating, and it’s like seeing a wild animal right next to your baby—dangerous, wrong. Your mouth works uselessly as you stare at his hands on June’s body: one supporting her head, and the metal one scooped under her butt. You see her back rise and fall steadily through her bumblebee onesie and you realize that she’s asleep. “I-is she okay?” you ask, heart in your throat.

Steve’s eyes narrow at you, but he nods curtly. “She’s fine.”

Across from you, James scoffs, drawing your attention back to him. “He’s going to put her down. There’s a crib in the back. She’ll be fine,” he says, when he sees you stiffen in protest. “You and I have some catching up to do, vorishka.”

“I thought we did that back in my bedroom,” you snap.

“You still want the water?” Steve asks.

“That’s okay.” Bucky keeps his eyes on you. “I’ll take care of her. You just stay back there with pchelka while she sleeps.”

Steve nods, and you can’t help yourself. “Wait! Please. Please give her to me. Steve?” You sit forward with your arms outstretched, but can only watch helplessly as the other man obeys Bucky and ignores you, disappearing back into the next section of the plane. Bastard never did like you.

“She’ll be fine,” Bucky assures you. “Just sit back and relax. We won’t be in the air for too long.”

You hate it, but you do sit back in the chair. James won’t hurt her. You know that. Especially now that you know he knows. You look around the cabin, taking in the wide, leather seats and gleaming wood finishes. There’s a couch, tv, a bar. A fucking electric fireplace. It's the sort of luxury you used to go starry-eyed over; incredibly rich men, fat or old or ugly, tripping all over themselves to spoil you.

… Only, James was never any of those things.

“This is your plane?” you ask, dragging your hand over the arm of your seat.

James smirks. “What? You thought I’d kidnap you and then fly commercial?”

You purse your lips at his joke. “I guess not.” You relax back, trying to get your bearings. It is bad news that you’re already on a plane with him. You’ll be landing at his private airstrip at the Siberia compound, which gives you no middle ground to run. You bite your lip as your thoughts race and you try to think of anything you might be able to do once you get to—

“Stop it,” James says quietly, drawing your attention back to him. He’s giving you a stern look. “You barely got away before, and that was on your own. Now we’ve got our daughter. Anything you try will put her in unnecessary danger and you know that.” He shakes his head, some of that sadness from before creeping back into his eyes. “You’re not leaving me again, omegechka.”

“I’m not?” you echo, stuck in place by his stare, by the memories you share with him, and the fear you have of what he’s planning for your punishment. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m just taking back what’s mine, Sweetheart. You do realize that?” You fail to answer him and his gaze hardens just a little bit. “That’s okay. You’ll see it eventually. This isn’t a bad thing. If you had just stuck around a little longer instead of lying to me and running off, then you would’ve seen it before, and we wouldn’t have to be going through this right now.” He raises his drink to you in a little salute. “You, me, and pchelka? We’re going to be a family.”

You don’t refuse the water he gives you, or the drink that he mixes for you, after. If James wanted to keep you drugged up until reaching Siberia, he certainly could’ve done so without allowing you to wake up on the plane. You’re only conscious right now because he wants you to be. And because you know that, you don’t protest the drink he prepares for you over at the bar. To be honest, a stiff one actually sounds really good right about now.

“Thank you,” you murmur as he hands it over, still unmoored by this drastic shift in circumstances. A few hours ago you’d been safe in your cottage, then suddenly you weren’t. One minute you’re sure you’re about to get a bullet in the face from this man, and the next, he’s got you sipping thousand dollar vodka on his private jet, calmly explaining how he intends to keep you and force you into some twisted form of domestic bliss.

“I had a whole renovation done for her,” he tells you. “Pchelka will have plenty of room to play and grow.”

You frown, hating the idea of your daughter growing up in that cold, Siberian fortress. You don’t care if he’s bought her an indoor waterslide and a herd of ponies. It’s no place for a child. “What does that mean?” you ask grumpily. “That word: chelk—? You keep using it. You can’t just rename my daughter.”

Hurt flashes in his eyes, but he wipes it away fast. “Pchelka means little bee. The outfit you put her in has bees on it.”

“Oh … Right.” You love that set. It’d been another gift at the shower, from Hilde.

“And she’s my daughter too,” James says tightly.

You gulp at the bitterness in his tone, at his eyes boring into you with reproach. It’s silly, but you do feel bad about hurting him in this one way, at least. “Her name is June,” you offer quietly.

His face draws tight with emotion that’s impossible for you to decipher. Mostly you just sense hurt coming off of him, tingeing his scent and making it into something mournful and awful. He stares at you for a long time. “You made me think you’d lost it,” he eventually whispers. “How could you do that to me?”

You shake your head. “I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not. You’re just sorry that I found you.”

“I saw you kill people, James!” you cry. “I saw who you really are. I couldn’t stay. Not after that.”

His mouth ticks up at the corners. “Oh, Sweetheart. You’ve got no idea who I am, or what I’ve done for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

His eyes gleam and he lifts his drink, tipping back the last of it. “Do you even remember where we met?”

You frown. “Of course.” You’d met him on a yacht, off the coast of Greece. At a party you’d been paid to attend as one of a flock of similarly hired ‘pretty girls’. Five hundred bucks just to sit around and drink cocktails for a few hours and make whoever owned the yacht look like a successful playboy. James had taken one look at you and made it his mission to charm you off of that boat with him. And you’d fallen for it, hook line and sinker. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You don’t know as much as you think you do,” he says disdainfully. “Don’t know how lucky you really are. I saved you.”

You scoff. “You’re no different from those boat guys. You think you’re so special, God’s gift to omegas, I get it.”

“No,” he grits. “You really don’t.”

“Don’t tell me what I don’t know! I know what I saw. All over the floor of your goddamn office. I slipped in it for Christ’s sake!”

“Right, right. The men you saw me kill,” he says, referencing the scene you’d walked in on just before you’d faked your miscarriage and fled. “You were eavesdropping outside the door, weren’t you, Little thief?”

You jut your chin out. “Yes. So what?”

“You know, I’d always assumed you heard the entire conversation. Now I realize I was wrong.”

“What?”

He laughs under his breath—at your expense, you suspect. “Who exactly do you think they were?”

“Your business associates. The same sort of underworld, black market scum as you. Only they didn't work for you. You screwed them over and they were there to collect what you owed them, and you murdered them instead.”

James scoffs and smiles angrily, sticking his tongue into his cheek as he looks away in frustration. "Figures," he mutters.

“What?” you snap. “You’re gonna deny it?”

“I’m not denying anything. But I killed them for you.”

“Oh please. Just stop it. Stop lying! I know what you do for work.”

Granted, you'd been a little slow on the uptake back then, too enamored and swept up in the whirlwind romance with your first Alpha that you hadn’t ever stopped to wonder where his money came from, or where it was he jetted off to “on business” every few days. It’d taken a year for you to piece it together, to see the true magnitude of the enterprise he ran, and how dark it really was.

Sitting in front of you now, he doesn’t deny it, which only bolsters your disdain for him. “I don’t want that in my life,” you hiss. “Arms dealing, drugs, smuggling, mercenaries. And apparently human trafficking as well.”

His eyes flash. “They don’t call it that, you know. It’s called the ‘skin trade’.”

“I don’t care.”

He gets up to go pour himself another drink at the bar. “Right,” he snaps, like you’re an idiot. “You’re so fucking naïve, krasotka [pretty (n.)]. So convinced that I’m the devil. But you have no idea how much worse it could’ve been for you.”

“You threatened to sell your own daughter before you figured out she was yours!”

Refusing to be provoked, he returns to stand right in front of you, forcing you to look up at him towering over you. “I knew she was mine from the second I walked in that house,” he says, making your breath catch.

“How?”

He smiles nastily and takes a sip from his drink, then sets it aside. He leans over you with his hands on the back of your seat, caging you in. You can smell the expensive alcohol on his breath as he gets in your face and tells you, “I put that baby in you, moya omegya. She’s a part of me. You think I wouldn’t be able to figure that out? Think an Alpha doesn’t know the scent of his own flesh and blood?”

You tense, fighting not to shrink away. “You’re making that up.”

He chuckles lowly and puts his face right next to yours, cheek to cheek, savoring your reaction. “Sweetheart,” he purrs, “I may not have forced a mating bite on you back then like I should have, but there are other ways to leave your mark on someone.” He dips in to kiss your neck, right over your unbitten glands. “I found you by your scent,” he whispers. “Sniffed you out.”

You shiver at his hot breath on your skin and the deadly soft tone of his voice. The way your body responds to him isn’t anything you can control, and he knows that, but it still makes you flush with embarrassment when he takes a deep inhale in the bend of your neck and hums with satisfaction when he smells the effect he’s had on you. “I wouldn’t have sold her anyway,” he tells you, pulling back and picking up his drink. “I want you to know that. I don’t participate in the skin trade.”

You swallow thickly, watching him watch you as he waits for you to react to him in some way. You don’t know why you believe him about this one thing, but you do. “But you’re aware of it,” you say. “You know it happens, and you don’t do anything to stop it.”

His jaw works in frustration. “I’ve interfered a time or two, when I could get away with it.”

“Well, aren't you a hero.”

“I didn’t say that,” he snaps. “I said I’ve done what little I could. These men make a lot of money dealing in omegas, and they don’t take kindly to being stolen from.”

“I can imagine.”

“No,” he mutters into his drink. “You really can’t.”

There’s something oddly bitter in his tone, like he's working hard not to tell you something. You bite your lip and watch him for a minute. “... How much?” you ask.

“What?” His eyes darken when he figures out what you’re asking. “No.”

“Tell me.”

“It depends,” he grits, glaring at you. "Now cut it out."

Sober, you might have; but half a vodka spritzer after nineteen months of no alcohol has you bolder than you usually would be. You look down at yourself, feigning flippancy. “Well what about me? How much would I go for?”

“Kotenok,” he warns lowly, growling when you continue to press him with a snotty little,

“Come on, I thought you were such a dangerous criminal? You can’t even discuss a little human trafficking with the weak omega you just trafficked?”

He probably knows you’re trying to antagonize him, but he still rises to the bait. He sits back and lets his eyes drag over your body in a way that makes your pulse pick up. “Well,” he drawls, “you just had a baby. So that’s less right there.” Your nostrils flare angrily and he gives you a look. “You’re the one who asked,” he reminds, waiting until you give him a nod to continue. He gives you another onceover, this time lingering in certain places longer, a softer look in his eyes for the softer parts of your body. He almost seems to get distracted. He catches himself overindulging and looks away, like it’s hurting him to consider you this way. “Most people want their omegas untouched,” he says quietly. “Especially if the buyer's alpha, which they usually are. It’s an instinctual thing for us. We’re very driven to possess. We don’t like to share.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” you mutter.

His gaze snaps back to you, a painful amount of familiarity in his eyes. “You’dve been a couple million, back when we first met.”

Your eyes widen. You weren't expecting that. “But … I wasn’t even a virgin.”

He arches an eyebrow. “I said untouched, not virginal. Not in that way. Alpha buyers want unbonded and never bred, first and foremost.” He leers at you. “Not that there aren’t some who’ll pay a little extra to pop a girl’s cherry. But that’s not the main thing they’re looking for, when they buy.”

You scowl. “Right. So I guess I’m damaged goods now."

“Oh no, mamochka,” he says seriously. “You’ve only gone up in value in my eyes. Though believe me when I say I’m more than happy to contribute to the depletion of your market value." He raises his glass to his lips, looking darkly pleased. “You’re not for sale, and you never will be. You’re mine.”

You're embarrassed to be the one to break eye contact first, but you can’t keep listening to him talk about how much he likes you and watching him look at you like you’re his most prized possession. With any other man you’d just be disgusted, but James has always had a knack for getting you flustered, and he knows it. There’s always been an inexplicable pull between the two of you, and he knows that, too. It’s the main reason why you've always refused his attempts to bond you. You're terrified of what it’ll be like after, since you already know how pathetically helpless you are around him without a bond.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you mumble quietly. “Where is it?”

“Just down there.” He nods in the direction behind you, opposite from where Steve had gone with June.

You press your lips together and get up without looking at him, but you can feel his eyes on you the entire time you’re walking away.

“Don’t take too long in there, kotenok,” he purrs from back in his seat. “Or I’ll have to come in after you.”

In the bathroom, you splash water on your face and lean against the sink, looking at the girl staring back at you in the mirror. You blink, and she blinks, but it feels like you’re looking at another person, someone you don’t know. She looks fragile. Tired, and dazed. June’s been sleeping through the night for months, but it’s been a hell of a day.

You scrutinize your reflection, smoothing your dress and tucking your hair behind your ears, thinking about how you have zero makeup on. Then you scoff at yourself for caring what you look like in front of him. You think about how much you’ve changed in the seventeen months since you ran away. Not just physically, but mentally. You’ve had to be so strong. For June, for yourself. It’s been awful, and lonely, and you’ve hated yourself for not being able to stop missing him.

You sniffle and splash more water on your face, grumpily thinking that postpartum hormones are so much worse than the pregnancy ones. You grab the towel off the wall, but freeze when you bring it up to pat your face dry and get a smell of it.

Oh.

You whimper, unable to keep from pressing it harder to your mouth and nose and inhaling deeply. It’s James’ scent, and it smells so good. It smells like Safety and Love and Alpha. You hear the sound of your own, needy mewl and you gasp, yanking the towel away from your face and tossing it into the sink, trying to keep your shit together. You brace your hands on the counter and glare at your reflection to tell her to stop it, stop it, stop it, but all it takes is seeing your lower lip quiver, and soon your entire face is collapsing in long-repressed sadness. You turn away from the mirror with a pathetic noise, throat aching from the urge to keen.

Why does this have to be happening?! You’ve tried so hard, for so long. To be strong for June, to get over him, to move on! You bury your face in your hands and choke on a wrenching sob. You know you have to be quiet, have to stop, have to pull yourself together before he—

A soft knock comes from outside the bathroom. “Doll?”

You whine and hastily search for a lock on the door, but there is none, and James hears your crying and pulls the door open. “Honey,” he mourns when he sees you. “What’s wrong?”

You push past him, hurrying in the direction he isn’t blocking. “Leave me alone!” you cry, hating the blubbering in your voice that makes you sound just as weak as James thinks you are. You arrive in a perfectly made up bedroom with no point of egress other than the one you arrived through. You whine in distress, circle around helplessly, and then throw yourself onto the bed when he arrives at the doorway looking worried. “Leave me alone!” you cry, curling onto your side and pulling one of the pillows down to bury your face in. At least it isn’t suffused with James’ scent. You still cry though, unable to keep it in anymore now that you’ve started.

He tuts sadly from the doorway and comes into the room slowly. He stands there for a long minute, silent, before he sighs and his weight comes onto the bed. “Sweetheart,” he says.

“Just leave me alone,” you whine miserably. “Go away!”

“Shh sh sh.” He curls up behind you, arms around your waist and legs pushing in behind yours. He kisses your shoulder and hugs you, but it only makes you cry harder at how achingly familiar it is. “It’s okay,” he murmurs between kisses. He doesn’t try to get you to stop crying, or ask you what’s wrong. He seems to know exactly why you’re breaking down, and he simply devotes all his efforts to helping you calm down in your own time. “S’okay, s’okay. Everything’s gonna be okay,” he keeps saying, soothing you with a deep rumble in his chest. “I’ve got you, Sweetheart. I’ve got you now. It’s all gonna be okay. Shhh.”

At first, his placating makes you angry, but not enough to stop your crying, and once that tapers off from sobs to quiet, sniffling tears, you can’t seem to dredge up the anger anymore. It isn’t there.

“You feeling a little better?” he asks kindly, gently tucking your hair behind your ear and then hugging you again.

You whine when you feel his lips against your neck. “I’m fine,” you rasp, voice coming out scratchy from all of the crying. You cringe and scrub your face into the pillow in embarrassment. “Just got a little sad.”

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly, giving you a supportive squeeze. “That’s okay.”

You hate how he says it, because it’s obvious that he knows why you were crying: Poor, sad little omega, bawling her eyes out over how much she’s missed her Alpha. He nuzzles into your neck, telling you it’s okay and that you’re allowed to cry. As much as you hate him being able to see into you so easily, you’re just grateful that he isn’t rubbing your face in it right now. The way he's holding you and comforting you feels good. You don’t fight to get away from him.

The two of you lie there together for what feels like a long time. Once you’ve stopped crying and are only giving the occasional sniffle for your runny nose, he goes back to running his hand over your side. It’s a gesture of comfort. He’s not groping you, but even still, you blush at the vulnerability of it. You find yourself glad that you’re facing away from him.

The plane shifts noticeably, and James’ hand pauses on your hip. “Pilot said we’re landing soon,” he murmurs. “Should probably go and get pchelka up.”

You sniffle and fight off the urge of resurfacing tears at hearing him reference June. One day of knowing his daughter and already he’s got a nickname for her. You should be annoyed by that, but instead it just makes your heart squeeze with emotion. “Pchelka,” you whisper, trying out the word.

“Yeah.” He hums happily and kisses your shoulder one last time. “Little bee. Come on. Let’s go.”

You don’t think about how it’s far too soon to have arrived at your destination, until you’re back in the main room of the cabin on the way to where Steve disappeared with June, earlier. You pause at the windows, peering out at the landscape. “This isn’t Russia,” you say, confused. The plane is definitely descending, but you’ve only been in the air for a few hours at most. “James?” you ask, as he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. Together, you both look out at the looming mountains and turquoise waters below. “Where are we?” you breathe.

James rests his chin on your shoulder and sighs happily. “Home,” he says. “We’re home.”

A.N.: See? Much less Rapey! Plenty more mega-dub con to come though, so don't you angst-lovers worry. Thanks for reading!💖Sarah

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