#and she ofc tries to make his life easier by cleaning the apartment making him coffee in the mornings etc etc

[scoliosisgoblin]

doodles and some lore. I'm tired.

[sparkles-and-trash]

The Gaang are Roommates AU ~

note: this is a rewrite and repost of my old roommates au, there was some stuff I wanted to change, and I wanted to make the parts a little longer, so yeah, ta-dah! 

- think modern setting in the canon universe, bending is still a thing 

- the Gaang are all in going to Ba Sing Se University 

- I’m gonna change the ages a bit to make it easier for myself, sorry 

- Zuko, Sokka, Suki and Mai are 20, Katara, Ty Lee and Azula are 19, Aang, Toph and Yue are 18

- so, Zuko, Sokka, Katara, Aang and Toph end up living together in a big loft type apartment 

- Sokka and Aang are old best friends, they met Toph in Middle School, and Katara is a natural part of the group 

- until now Sokka and Katara have both been living in the dorms, and they both hate it intensely 

- but now that Aang and Toph are also in uni, they all decide to move in together!

- …but the only problem is that the only place they find that they like is just out of their price rage (Toph’s parents aren’t supportive of her major so they’re not helping out much)

- enter: ~ Zuko ~

- so, Zuko has been living with his uncle Iroh since his Father, who’s a high up in some big and important company the Fire Nation, disowned him for speaking up against the company’s shifty treatment of workers and ruining a lot of sacred land etc 

- they’re still firebenders and the scar still happened, not in an Agni Kai, but it happened 

- but after Zuko started uni, Iroh really tried to push him to meet some people his own age and make some friends

- the only people Zuko talks to on the regular besides Iroh is Azula, Ty Lee and Mai, and Mai is the only one who is like, his friend yanno?

- the last year the deal was that if Zuko didn’t branch out, Iroh would have him live one year with other students

- it’s his idea of tough love 

- Zuko tried to do some random kid’s homework to have them pretend to be his new friend in front of Iroh so he wouldn’t have to, but Iroh can tell he’s lying so easily 

- so, Zuko ends up hearing about the Gaang through Mai, who heard from Ty Lee, who plays field hockey, Suki, who’s best friends with Sokka

- so, he goes to meet them, and it’s so awkward mY GOD

- Katara is a B I G environmental activist and HATES Ozai and his company, with good reason

- she eases up a tad when Zuko admits to being turned away from as a teen, but she is still suspicious

- Aang loves him right away, ofc, and that makes Katara even more suspicious because she’s pretty protective of Aang

- she claims it’s because he’s so kind and believes everyone but she totally liikeees hiiiim

- Toph is just like, sure, as long as he pays his rent idgaf

- Sokka is weirdly quiet, because he’s had a huge crush on Zuko forever, and the only one who knows is Aang (and Toph but she ain’t no snitch)

- so, ya boy makes the cut, and before they know it, it’s move-in day!

- but, the idiots didn’t think through the facts that it’s only three bedrooms oops

- and Toph is NOT afraid to pull the “I’m blind and I need my space” card

- and nobody’s up to fight her on it, so 

- let’s just say there is A LOT of back and forth, but with Katara refusing to room with her brother again, and Zuko being rightfully scared of Katara, it ends up with Zuko and Sokka sharing a bedroom, and Katara and Aang

- they have separate beds ofc

- but still, tension, man, so much tension

- it takes a while, but the dynamics starts working out really well

- Zuko is good at grocery shopping and likes to clean, and Aang is always happy to help him out

- Sokka loves cooking, so he does that a lot

- Katara is always on top of the others with schoolwork and making sure everyone is okay, and she usually does it in genius, sneaky ways so people doesn’t even notice that she does it

- Toph is clearing the air off bullshit

- like, she will call a bitch out

- but because she cares about said bitch

- so, Aang knows that Sokka has a crush on Zuko because Sokka told him in a weak moment, and Toph knows because she just knows

- Aang is a good friend tho, and he tries to like, ease them together

- but he is so awkward about it, the poor thing, and Zuko doesn’t understand AT ALL

- Toph is just sitting back and sighing a lot

- Katara doesn’t understand either but she just stays out of it (smart girl)

- but okay, we know how oblivious Zuko can be right?

- Sokka can give him googly eyes and blush and stutter around him so much and he still has no clue at all

- Zuko starts thinking Sokka just doesn’t like him at all

- but then one night Zuko has this really intense nightmare

- okay and quick addition, his scar is… handshaped? Like, you can clearly tell what happened to him

- but nobody talks about it, yet

- but then he’s having a terrible nightmare and is talking and begging and pleading in his sleep

- so much that Sokka wakes up

- and he catches on pretty fast, but had no idea what to do

- so he just shuffles over to Zuko’s side of the room and starts tapping his shoulder rapidly

- but nothing happens

- so he just… gently and awkwardly pats his head until Zuko wakes up

- and Zuko is like… wat u doin there bro

- and Sokka is like… just patting ur head to wake you from a nightmare bro

- and they awkwardly just mumble and go back to their beds

- but Zuko is smiling a lot because someone who’s not his family or a family friend really cares about him

- after that, Zuko slowly starts opening up to all of them, but Sokka especially 

- he never really tells them about being cast out and burned tho

- until one day he kinda casually slings it into a convo all fast and awkwardly

- it’s just Toph, Aang and Sokka there

- Toph yells so WHAATTT so loudly and just metalbends the whole fridge into a clump in rage

- Aang cries lmao but he tries to hide to and be supportive and not awkward

- Sokka is kinda quiet, but he carefully asks about it that night when they’re in their beds, and they talk a little about it

- Aang tells Katara (with permission) and she awkwardly, but wholeheartedly tells him that he can always talk to her

- they do that «awkward sibling hug» from Gravity Falls after

- *hugs stiffly* «pat, pat»

- but okay, Toph and metalbending when angry, it happens quite a lot 

- this was the first time it was the fridge, but the toaster, the microwave, and several other appliances have met the same fate

- everyone is kinda used to it now, and she always replaces it

- except Zuko, who’s still kinda new to them all

- but what are you supposed to say when your new friends is so outraged by the abuse you went through that they crush a whole ass fridge?

- it actually reminds him that he’s cared for here, by these people who owe him nothing, and is not related to him, and it makes him a little dizzy to have people care this way

- he casually mentions it to his Uncle Iroh the time he’s in at work, that his new friend is a metalbender and squashed their whole fridge when she was pissed on his behalf

- Iroh is thrilled

- to the point of offering Toph a job lmao

- Toph, desperate to cut of as much ties with her family and be as self-sufficient as possible, agrees

- and now Iroh have two formerly rich kids with no clue about any sort of customer service and basic stuff like that working for him

- Toph is a hard worker tho, and she and Zuko work surprisingly well together

- Katara is a little relived, because the more those two work, the less are the chances of either of them trying to cook or do too many chores around their apartment

- they mean well, or, Zuko does, but he does so much dumb shit when trying to help lmao

- Sokka starts spending a lot of time over at The Jasmine Drago too

- Aang is still trying to keep the fact that Sokka likes Zuko a secret, but he is having trouble

- Katara is his biggest weakness, and now they’re suddenly alone with her a lot

- someone else who could always read Sokka really well is Suki

. whom he used date in high school, but they parted as friends and everything s cool

- but Sokka is a little taken aback when she comes into The Jasmine Dragon one day, hand in hand with Sokka’s childhood crush obsession, Yue

- for the first time in man’s memory, Sokka is a little speechless

- and Suki’s like “lmao dude I haven’t seen you like this since the first time you saw Zu-”

- cue Zuko popping out behind them like “WELCOME TO THE JASMINE DRAGON FRIENDS OF SOKKA :D”

- Sokka is so fucking red, poor boy is just about having an aneurism at this point

- but luckily something happens and Zuko gets distracted

- Suki is having the time of her life tho, Sokka always used to tease her for her crushes before and after they dated, and suddenly, here they are

- at the apartment, Aang decides they need some apartment traditions

- they’ve been living there for almost three months, after all

- so he decides that weekly movie nights are mandatory

- so are pillowforts

- Katara is actually really excited for it, she loves all things cozy and fall-like

- also… she is weak for Aang, y’all, and she loves seeing him all excited

- Zuko barely knows what a pillowfort is, he didn’t think real people actually made it

- but imagine these dorks in a pillowfort with hot chocolate and lot’s of pillows

- Toph claims that she thinks it’s soo dumb, but she will always make sit in the middle of the group all wrapped in her blanket and laughing when the others jump and get spooked from the horror movies Sokka always wants to watch

- and she will make sure the fort is right and perfect lmao

- Zuko is a little awkward about it at first, but he likes it too

- Sokka always manages to plop in next to Zuko lmao

- they haven’t talked about the head patting incident yet, but Zuko is def starting to feel the butterflies

- one time after a movie night Sokka falls asleep on Zuko’s shoulder, after the others have left for the night

- Zuko can’t resist waking him up with awkward head pats similar to the one Sokka used on him

- Sokka thinks he died and went to heaven lmao

- but then he fully wakes and sees Zuko’s shit eating grin and can’t help but laugh at the whole thing

- and Zuko has his “oh no he’s hot beautiful and I really adore him” moment

[nerdzzone]

Only For A Moment: August

Summary: A series of shorter one shots from Chris and Whitney’s life together throughout the pandemic. Some happy times, some harder times, some fluff and some things a little more sexy - they work through it all as they try to get settled in their new and blossoming relationship.

Chris Evans x OFC

Part of the Once Bitten/More Hearts series

Only For A Moment: July

Note: I’ve had a super busy day, but I wanted to get this posted so I edited it really quickly. Please forgive me if there’s any little mistakes!

Thank you to everyone who has liked, reblogged and commented! Hearing your thoughts really makes my day!

-----

August 2020

I think you'd be hard-pressed to find someone who actually enjoys moving - especially if that move involves a three year old who feels the need to be very involved in the packing, but is also incredibly easily distracted. And even more so when that child's father is almost just as distractible and, despite his insistence that he'd stay focused, does more to hinder the whole operation than help.

That was the situation that I found myself in at the end of the first summer of the pandemic because we were moving in with Chris.

While I was hesitant at first, it made the most sense and neither Grayson nor I were particularly eager to return to our tiny little apartment. I still felt that it was pretty early in our relationship for us to be living together, but we'd survived so far and moving back seemed like it would do more harm than good. Grayson had settled in nicely at Chris' house and another big change - like making him go back to having two homes - seemed like it would be very disruptive.

But moving came with it's own challenges.

After our conversation a few months earlier, Chris had told all of his most trusted friends about our change in relationship status. That came in handy as a few of his buddies - who had trucks - had volunteered to help us move things the last weekend of August, but packing had me feeling overwhelmed. I'd managed to give most of the furniture away - between our friends and Chris' family - but we still had way too much stuff.

It was on that Saturday morning that I found myself sitting in the middle of Grayson's old bedroom almost in tears. I'd packed up his mountain of toys the night before only to find Chris and Grayson unpacking several boxes the next morning while I was trying to finish up in the living room. Apparently, Grayson had wanted a certain toy that I'd already packed and instead of telling him to wait because he had several other things to play with that weren't boxed up, Chris helped him look for it.

He was trying to be helpful, thinking that repacking a few things would be easier to deal with than a meltdown from Grayson, but it had been a long, tiring week as I tried to get everything organized and their actions almost pushed me to my breaking point. I scolded them both and banished them to the little playground just outside the building while I set to work cleaning up their mess.

Almost twenty minutes later, I heard a knock on the front door as it creaked open. I poked my head out of the room I was in - ready to send the boys straight back outside - only to see Chris' oldest and closest friend, Tara. She was masked up for safety and knowing how sweet and helpful she was, she was a refreshing sight. I'd met her several times, mostly when Grayson was a baby and I lived with Chris, and she'd been a calming and encouraging presence back then so I was definitely relieved to see her during another time of high stress.

"Hey," I smiled. "What are you doing here?"

"I brought supplies," she informed me, holding up a tray of iced coffees. "Chris called and said that he thought you could use some help."

"You're a lifesaver," I groaned with pleasure as she put down the tray and handed me one of the drinks. "I need this, thank you so much."

"You're welcome," she returned my smile. "How's the packing going?"

"Not bad now that the boys are outside," I laughed. "It's pretty much all done, I think. You never realize how much junk you have until you have to pack it all up."

"Oh my god, I know. We moved last year and it felt like the piles of things we had to take was never ending."

"It's crazy," I agreed. "Especially with all Gray's stuff. I thought we did a good job of not spoiling him, but he has an insane amount of toys."

"I can imagine," she cringed. "But I have no plans all day so just tell me what you need help with and I'm all yours."

I thought for a moment as I sipped the coffee she'd brought me until I had an idea.

"Actually..." I started, feeling a bit sheepish. "Would you be willing to take Grayson for a bit? I know it's a big ask, especially while he's so excited, so feel free to say no."

"Are you kidding? I'd love to take him!"

I let out a breath of relief as I felt my body relax.

"Thank you so much. I really need Chris to help me carry these boxes and he's been so preoccupied with Grayson that he's been no use at all," I explained. "It's a big change and he's worried about him being freaked out by it all, which I totally get, but I need him to focus a bit too."

Tara laughed and shook her head.

"I get it, don't worry. I know what he can be like," she assured me. "I'll go down and get Gray now and send Chris up here."

"Thank you. You're the best, Tara."

She waved off my gratitude and insisted it was no problem before leaving me to turn my attention back to what I'd been doing before she arrived.

-

Once Grayson was in the safe care of Tara, Chris was much more useful. We were packing things with impressive speed and when it was almost time for his friends to show up with their trucks, we started moving things down to the lobby of the building to make the loading process quicker.

I was a tad nervous about the whole situation as I hadn't spent much time with most of Chris' friends and I didn't really know what they thought of me. I hoped they'd be understanding of our situation and give me a chance, but if he really had been pining away for me all these years - thinking that I didn't want to be with him - I worried that they'd think I was selfish and heartless.

Those worries, combined with my stress about getting everything organized, had me still feeling rather on edge. It didn't help that the creepy maintenance man that I'd warned Chris about was watching us like a hawk. I could feel his eyes on me every time I stepped foot in the lobby and the sensation made my skin crawl. I just wanted to get it all done and over with as fast as possible so we could get away from him, but Chris had clearly noticed him too and I could feel his annoyance rising as well.

He held it together until our last trip down when our spectator really crossed a line. I was bending over to place some boxes on the ground when I could have sworn I heard a groan of pleasure from behind me. I snapped back up to standing and looked over my shoulder to see the man with a smirk on his face and his eyes fixed on me. It made my stomach churn, but Chris was immediately by my side, his arm sliding around my waist. Before I could even question what he was doing, he pulled down his mask and then my own, cupped my jaw with his hand and pulled me in for a kiss.

It was a rather passionate embrace and I was surprised as he usually wasn't one for public displays of affection. Then it hit me why he was doing it and I felt a flash of annoyance run through me as he pulled away. There was a smirk on his face as he rested his forehead against mine, but all I could muster was a frown.

"Do you think he got the hint?"

I scoffed at his question.

"I think he got enough pictures to pay his bills for the next few months," I huffed, keeping my voice low so we wouldn't be overheard. "Are you done marking your territory now?"

Chris looked taken aback by my harsh tone and I sighed as I slipped out of his grasp and headed to the door. I wanted to see if his friends had arrived yet and get away from the creep, but Chris followed and wasn't prepared to let our conversation drop.

"What, so I'm not allowed to kiss you in public in case someone sees?" He asked once we got outside, his own annoyance coming through. "I thought you didn't care if people found out about us?"

I stopped walking and spun around to face him.

"I don't care," I snapped. "But I'd rather not give some pervert the chance to profit off of us just to save your wounded pride."

Even with his mask pulled back up, I could see Chris' jaw clench with frustration.

"He was being disrespectful. I was standing right there and he moans while staring at your ass? C'mon, he's a fuckin' asshole."

Another flare of anger washed over me as I fought to keep myself calm enough to explain to him why what he'd just said was almost as frustrating as the actions of the man who'd been ogling me.

"He was being disrespectful," I agreed, my voice steady despite my rising temper. "But to me, not to you! It doesn't matter if I have a boyfriend or not, he shouldn't behave like that towards any woman! I don't deserve to be respected because of you, I deserve to be respected because I'm a human being who has a right to feel safe in their own apartment building."

Chris' shoulders dropped as he took in my words and visibly calmed down, but I was still feeling wound up.

"Shit, Winnie, you're right," he relented. "I don't want anyone to treat you like that ever, not just because you're my girlfriend. It just pissed me off that he had the balls to do that even in front of me."

"So kissing me like that to send him a message was the best solution you could think of? Like, 'don't touch this one, she's mine'. It made me feel gross. I don't need you claiming me in public to scare off creeps, thanks."

"I didn't mean it like that," Chris insisted, looking slightly wounded by my scolding. "I'm sorry, I was being an idiot."

"Okay," I shrugged, somewhat blowing off his apology. "We should go to the parking lot. Your friends might be here."

"Are we good, Win?" He asked, clearly not as eager to let the subject drop. "I want to make this right if you're upset..."

"I'm fine," I sighed, knowing that was only half true. It was only half his fault though, the stress of the day overall was more to blame and, at that point, I just wanted it to be over so I could have a nice big glass of wine. "Let's just go see where your friends are."

He didn't argue as I walked off and when we turned the corner into the parking lot, his friends were all there lined up in the visitor's spots. I forced a smile despite the fact that it was hidden by my mask and waved as we walked over.

"Hey!" I greeted them. "Thanks so much for doing this. We really appreciate it."

"Ah, no worries!" Jon assured me. "But, are you really sure you want to move in with this guy?"

"Yeah, we were just talking," Zach continued. "And it feels a bit Stockholm syndrome-y. He confines you to a house and suddenly you fall in love? Seems a bit suspicious."

"Wow, guys, glad you're on my side," Chris laughed. "I wouldn't have asked you to help out if I knew you'd try and change her mind!"

"We just want to make sure we're not committing any crimes here," Luke insisted. "I don't want to be an accomplice to anything and we're all scratching our heads about what she could see in you."

Chris shook his head at their teasing and I tried to push our earlier discussion from my mind as I giggled and slid my hand into his. I felt him tense up in surprise at the gesture, but he relaxed as I squeezed it and leaned against his arm.

"There's no Stockholm syndrome here," I assured them. "It just took a pandemic and the constant threat of impending doom for me to come to my senses. I'm just lucky Chris was silly enough to wait for me."

Chris chuckled and leaned over to place a kiss on the top of my head as his friends rolled their eyes.

We quickly went over the game plan for the day once the initial greeting was over and as soon as his friends turned to head towards the building, I dropped my hand from Chris'. I knew I was being petty and sulky and from the sigh that fell from Chris' lips, he did too, but I couldn't help it - I needed some space to work through my cranky mood on my own. Luckily, Chris seemed to figure that out pretty fast and left me to my brooding as we followed his friends and got to work.

-

It didn't take us as long as I expected to load all the boxes into the trucks, but that was probably the benefit to having a team of strong men helping you move. Once it was all unloaded into the spare bedroom at Chris' place where I had been sleeping at the start of the pandemic, Chris broke out a few beers for his friends and fired up the grill while we waited for Tara and Gray to arrive. It was a beautiful, warm evening and perfect for an impromptu barbecue to thank all Chris' friends and it was a great opportunity for me to bond a bit more with some of the most important people in Chris' life.

Grayson knew them all better than I did, but we had some concerns that the lack of socialization would make him nervous around the now somewhat unfamiliar faces. But he put those worries to bed almost as soon as he arrived as he was the life of the party. He was thrilled to see the three men who were sitting in the lawn chairs dotted around our yard - in an effort to keep everyone somewhat distant from each other - and the cheer they let out as soon as they saw him made me think they were just as excited. They seemed to really adore him and he thrived on the attention. It warmed my heart to see the genuine care they all had for Grayson - it was wonderful to know he had so many people in his corner - and I was relieved when that care was extended to me.

Any doubts that I'd had about them accepting me were quickly pushed from my mind as they seemed to be just as eager to get to know me as I was to get to know them. They were all lovely, kind people and I wondered why I ever expected anything else from the people in Chris' inner circle.

They left as soon as Grayson's bedtime rolled around - partially because we were all tired from our long day of moving boxes and partially because we all knew there was no way that Gray was going to agree to go to bed while the party was still going. Once they were gone, he demanded Chris tuck him in so I tidied up in the kitchen while he handled bedtime.

As soon as I'd finished putting the last few dishes in the dishwasher, I felt his arms around my waist.

"Hey," he whispered in my ear, his chin resting on my shoulder. "Thanks for cleaning up."

"You don't need to thank me," I smiled, turning in his arms so we were face to face. "It's my house to keep clean too now, even if that's still weird to think about."

"Weird in a good way?"

"Definitely," I nodded. "It's felt like home here for a while now. It would have been awful to go back to that little apartment."

"It would have been weird for me too," Chris agreed. "I can't imagine being in this big house without you guys anymore."

"You'd have to move all your friends in," I teased, using it as a segue. "Who, by the way, are all very nice."

"Yeah?" Chris grinned. "You think so?"

"I do. I was a bit nervous about it," I admitted. "In case they resented me for how our relationship unfolded, but they're great."

"They never resented you at all," Chris chuckled. "Pretty much everyone who knows about our first night together was on your side about that and they've been pushing me to make a move ever since."

"Well, that's good to know."

Chris nodded and continued.

"They all really like you. Jon gave me clear instructions to not fuck it up."

I laughed at that, but felt a wave of relief.

"I appreciate their support."

"Well, you definitely have it."

Chris leaned down to press his lips against mine and I melted into his body, feeling the exhaustion from the stress of the day start to hit me. We stayed like that, just holding each other for a few minutes until Chris broke the silence around us.

"Can we talk about earlier?"

My stomach churned with embarrassment at the memory, but I nodded.

"Of course, we can. I'll start by saying that I'm sorry."

Chris leaned back slightly, just enough to look down at me with his confusion written all over his face.

"You're sorry? Why are you sorry?" He asked. "I brought it up so that I could apologize to you."

"You don't need to," I assured him. "I get why you did what you did. I just don't deal with stress very well and the whole day was overwhelming me. I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

"You don't deal with stress very well? I never would have known!" His words were laced with sarcasm as he smiled down at me and I laughed, gently smacking his chest in protest. "But seriously, I deserved a good scolding. You were absolutely right with what you said, I shouldn't have handled the situation like that."

"I appreciate that you can see where I was coming from," I sighed. "But there is no perfect way to handle a situation like that, really. It's best just to ignore it, but then it feels like you're letting the gross guy win."

"Well, if we're ever in a situation like that again, I'll follow your lead," he insisted. "But I can't say that I'll just ignore it. I might just punch the guy out for being a creep."

I laughed again before shaking my head.

"And then whoever is watching will have a different kind of picture to sell to the trashy magazines."

Chris cringed at that comment.

"I'm sorry. Do you really think he took pictures?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "But if he recognized you then I'd be surprised if he didn't."

Chris nodded, clearly getting lost in thought for a moment before he spoke again.

"And you really don't care if proof gets out that we're together?"

"I don't," I insisted. "I don't like the idea of some pervert making money off of us, but I don't care if people know we're together. It might be good for people to get used to the idea now, when we're hiding at home all the time anyway. By the time we can go outside again, no one will care enough to take pictures of us."

"That might be wishful thinking," Chris smiled. "But I'll do my best to keep you out of the spotlight."

I matched his smile and stretched up to place a kiss on his lips.

"I'm sure it'll be fine."

As I predicted, the creepy maintenance man did take pictures of us and he did sell them to some trashy magazine. The internet was horrified, the hearts of fangirls all over the world were broken and I was called every cruel name under the sun. There were rumours that I trapped him with another baby and rumours that I was a gold digger - just using Chris for his money so I didn't have to work during the pandemic. The general reception to the forced confirmation of our relationship was pretty abysmal, but nothing worse than we expected and at the end of the day we didn't care.

All the people who truly cared about us were happy for us and that was the most important thing.

-

September

Tags: @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces @firoozehmoon @patzammit @sparkledfirecracker @mytbel0st @chvntelle-99

[sokkabeifong]

Can you write some tokka angst 🙏

ofc I can anon and IM SORRY THIS IS SO LATE but better late than never I guess. this is set in modern times because modern times are fun to write for tokka okay? a bit longer than usual but the more angst the better am I right

Toph had promised Sokka that she’d go to the hospital when it happened, so that’s exactly what she’d done. She hadn’t promised that she’d actually get anyone’s attention. Or check in. Or ask for help.

Although… the contractions were getting more insistent, and she doubted the medical staff would leave her alone if she stripped off the stupid maternity pants and just squatted down right there on the lobby floor.

With a heavy sigh, she waddled her way over to the nearest front desk. Spirits, she hadn’t been in a hospital in years. She wasn’t even sure what the different branches and buildings and desks were all for. But there was no way that she was giving birth at home. Katara was in medical school, sure, but she wasn’t done. And Toph wasn’t about to risk her life and her child’s life for a “practice trial.”

Still, there was something unnerving about the hospital, with its stuffy feeling and too-squeaky floor. It feels clean, clean in a way that you can just sense. She didn’t need sight to tell her just how antibacterial this place was.

A pinging, traitorous part of her wishes that someone was here with her, that she didn’t have to do this alone. But it was her own stupid pride that had taken a cab all alone in a Wednesday night, and the only person she truly wanted present was somewhere she could never get him back from. She’d promised him before he died that she would go to the hospital if she felt even the slightest change. He wanted her to be safe, he said.

And now, of course, Sokka was dead and gone while she was here, swollen belly stretching out her sweater and maternity pants. As much of an annoyance as labor would be, getting the thing out of her was going to be a blessing. She’d spent too long unbalanced and vulnerable to attack.

“Can I help you?”

Toph was broken out of her musings by the question from someone sitting at the closest desk. She turned her head to where she hoped the person, a woman by the sound of it, would be.

“I hope so,” she smiled, falling back into a generic cover ID face. “I should probably see a doctor.”

“All right,” said the woman. She heard the clicking of nails on a keyboard, then something sliding across the desk. “Why don’t you take one of these forms, fill it out, and bring it back here?”

“Can’t ,” she said shortly. “I’m blind.”

“No worries.” The woman clicked her pen open like she had blind pregnant ladies come into the ER every day. Who knew - maybe she did. “I’ll ask you the questions and you answer, okay?”

“Okay.” Toph winced as another contraction hit her. At least the protruding baby bump gave her something to lean against. She made sure to breathe in through her nose and out through her mouth as the woman began questioning her, just as Katara had instructed her to do. I’m a few hours, the whole thing would be over and then - she bit her lip and redirected her thoughts.

She wished Sokka was -

She redirected that thought, too.

“Reason for your visit?” the woman asked, yapping the pen against the clipboard.

Toph waited a moment before she turned around yet again, because she was in the middle of another contraction and couldn’t decide whether she’d rather scream or just go ahead and kill the lady.

“My contractions are about eight minutes apart,” she said.

The lady blinked once and then repeated, “They’re eight minutes apart from each other? So you’re in labor. Are you in active labor?”

Toph smiled sweetly. “Are you asking me to stick my fingers down and see whether or not I’m dilated to seven centimeters?”

To the woman's credit, the crudity didn't seem to faze her, and she plowed ahead with, “Ma’am, this is the ER. We’re not equipped for a birth. I’ll call you a wheelchair immediately, and we’ll get you up to Labor and Delivery. Trust me, it’ll be faster than checking in here and waiting for a transfer.”

“Where’s Labor and Delivery?”

“Fourth floor, and I -”

“I’ll just walk over there. It’s fine.”

“Ma’am, I really must insist. You’ve technically checked in—” she waved the yellow paper “—and you’re our responsibility now.”

Toph leaned heavily against the counter and deftly snatched the page out of the woman’s hand. At least her coordination was still functional.

“There. Now I didn’t check in, and I’m my own problem.”

“Ma’am, please. You’re in no condition to go wandering the hospital, whether you take that against your pregnancy or your eyesight. Let me just call someone to wheel you over.”

Luckily for the woman, another contraction rendered her unable to give a snappy retort. She waited for it to pass, quietly, quickly, then faced the lady once more.

“Fine,” she said tightly. “Fine. Fine.”

“Thank you,” the lady said, obviously relieved. Apparently she did not deal with stubborn blind pregnant women on the daily.

By the time she had been put in a wheelchair and taken through the long halls and winding corridors to Labor and Delivery, Toph had managed to calm herself down. Not because the situation was in any way calming, but because she’d stressed her body and mind out enough that she’d fallen into full-blown mission mode.

Which was fine. It’d probably be easier to give birth with that attitude.

“Well, you seem pretty together, Toph,” the nurse gushed as she checked in yet again at the front desk. “We’ll get you back as soon as possible. For now, if you can just take a seat in one of those chairs, and listen for your name.”

Toph let her real self fade into the background, giving over control to the five other women sitting in the waiting room, and promptly closed her eyes. If she was going to be in pain, she might as well rest while she could.

-

The calm blind girl out in the lobby was already a topic of discussion.

It wasn’t completely unheard of for someone to come in alone. Life was weird and sometimes people gave birth without anyone they knew to help them through the experience. But this girl? The calm young girl with ebony in her hair and in her eyes wasn’t any of the typical stories. She was clean and put together. She was calm and young and looked like the kind of person who would have a dozen friends by her side, even if the father of the child was no longer in the picture.

And yet, there she sat. First in the waiting room and then in her hospital room.

Alone.

Moreover, Miss Toph Beifong had claimed on her paperwork that her contractions were now five minutes apart. However, she was sitting too calmly for that. In fact, the nurse had sat with phone in hand and timed out more than ten minutes, and the girl hadn’t moved once. She’d sat there calmly. No wincing, no cursing, no crying.

It wasn’t until the nurse pulled the woman back and got down to take a look that anyone believe the claim at all.

"Shit,” the nurse murmured.

The doctor startled and glanced up to see if Toph had been offended by the curse. Fortunately, the girl seemed more concerned with how many fingers she had, and didn’t seem to have heard.

“What?” the doctormurmured, more quietly.

“Her cervix is nine centimeters,” the nurse answered.

“Shit,” the doctor echoed.

-

By the end of it all, Toph had decided she did not like labor. She’d made that decision before she began crowning, and nothing that followed did anything to change that. While she had experienced worse pain in her life, she had never experienced that kind of pain.

She had once spent four straight hours being absolutely crushed by a girl at the gym and, at the peak of labor, she was pretty sure she’d trade out that experience for her current one.

Nevertheless, she didn’t scream. She screwed up her eyes and doubled her body up and flexed her fingers. Tears leaked from her eyes from the sheer stress of it all. But her lips remained tightly closed. The skin around them grew white from where she bit them between her teeth, and the nurses were afraid she’d draw blood.

One well-intentioned nurse had advised that she just give in and cry out.

Toph had rolled her eyes, widened her legs, and pushed again.

In the end, nature was inevitable. Toph had always had someone to remind her to take good care of her body, so the whole experience was over in a few hours. She collapsed back against the wet bedding. There was sweat and blood and who-knew-what all over her, and she’d probably never feel clean again.

There was screaming in the background, and her eyes finally focused on the small infant being washed by the hospital staff.

Then her view was cut off by the ring of congratulating nurses.

“It’s a beautiful girl. Do you have the name ready for her?”

“Call it Toph, for all I fucking care,” Toph murmured, too quietly for anyone to make out. She turned over on her side, away from the child, and shut her eyes tight.

-

Later that night, after hours of tossing and turning in her sleep, Toph was awoken by the small mewing sound coming from her bedside. She sighed. She’d tried to have the baby whisked away to some far-off nursery where she wouldn’t have to ignore its presence, but apparently the hospital didn’t “do that anymore.”

Spirits, she felt so empty. Tired and empty and drained.

Deciding she could avoid it no further, Toph feels her way to the other side of the bed. The hospital is quiet, and she can’t even guess what time it is. Probably late at night. She waddled over to the bassinet, and the mewing became a full-fledged scream.

She jumped. The baby continued screaming, but less so, as if it hadn’t realized anyone was there. She found herself reaching down, feeling the child, the blankets, so afraid she would drop it or break it or… worse. For a moment she hesitated.

This is your baby, she thinks. You’re allowed to pick it up. It’s yours. And his. You can pick it up.

Her. She could almost hear Sokka’s voice echo through the room, reminding her that their child wasn’t an it. The thought made her smile.

Slowly, carefully, as though her life depended on it, Toph lowered her arms around the tiny, tiny baby and lifted her up. The baby stopped bawling and snuggled against her mother’s chest.

“Hello,” she said stupidly, like the kid could respond. But her mouth kept moving. “Um. Uh, my name’s Toph. I’m your - Spirits, I guess I’m your mom now, huh?”

The baby gurgled, her lips curled like she might cry again. Toph hurried to keep talking.

“Oh, God, um. What else, what else… uh, you have a bunch of aunts and uncles,” she said. “They’re all gonna help raise you. They’re annoying sometimes, but they mean well. You’re our first baby, you know.”

Our. The word made Toph close her eyes for a second. Try as she might, there would be no more “our.” There was only “she.” The “our” in her partnership was long gone. How was she supposed to tell her child that?

She decided to start with the basics.

“Your daddy was so brave,” she whispered. It hurt to talk about Sokka in the past tense, but she kept going. “He was so, so strong and brave and I just know he would have loved to meet you. He already loved you, you know. He wanted to meet you so bad, kid. He just never got the chance.”

The baby blinked, her eyelids heavy like hearing about the father she would never meet was too much for one night. Toph wholeheartedly agreed and set her down in the bassinet once more, making sure she was secure before plodding back to her own bed and face-planting on the blankets.

The nurse had told her the baby’s eyes were blue. She let that thought sink into her heart before drifting off to sleep.

[sassyhobbits]

....tinder au??🥺 not to rush u ofc! but i’m having a rough time in school right now and an update would really make my week better🤍

you sent this ask at just the right time! i just finished it up! sorry for the lack of writing. school is also giving me a rough time rn as well! but!!! we will persevere!!!

also im a little buzzed so i hope this is coherent

pt 1 // pt 2 // pt 3

~~~

Rowan didn’t really enjoy dressing up, could go his entire life without attending another large, social gathering. And yet… he had let Aelin convince him to take her to a wedding.

He had forced himself into his nicest suit because Aelin told him to. He sensed that this was something he didn’t want to argue with her about, so he did it with minimal complaint. He figured that it wouldn’t be that bad in the grand scheme of things, and the open bar was certainly a perk.

Not to mention, Aedion would be there well. In fact, Rowan was on his way to his coworkers apartment where he would meet up with the rest of them before heading to the wedding. Apparently, Aedion got roped in as well. His and Aelin’s family were old friends with the groom’s family.

Rowan checked his watch as he climbed the stairs, ensuring he wasn’t late lest he give Aelin a reason to be cross with him. It seemed he was making good time.

Rowan knocked politely, the door swinging open quickly and revealing a surprisingly well-dressed Aedion, who was nursing a bottle of beer.

“Hey man,” he said, clasping forearms with Rowan. “How’re you doing? You want a beer?”

“Yeah, that would be great.”

Rowan stepped into the apartment, lingering in the living room as Aedion slipped into the kitchen. The room was decorated simply, but it was clean. His eyes caught on a few old photographs, picturing what must have been a young Aedion and Aelin together, smiling smiles too large for their little faces.

Aedion reappeared, handing him the beer.

“I can’t believe Aelin conned you into this,” Aedion commented, leaning against the back of the couch. “But, I gotta say, I’m glad you’re coming.”

“Is the company there gonna be that bad?”

“Yes. But I also know Aelin’s doing this to piss off her ex. And I was never a big fan of him. I think it’s going to be funny.” Aedion finished off his beer, glancing at the clock mounted on the wall with a sigh. “Those girls are gonna make us late. Lys! Are you nearly done?”

“You can’t rush perfection!” Lysandra’s voice called from upstairs.  

Aedion shook his head fondly with a playful chuckle, clearly used to waiting on the girls.

They chatted casually until Rowan was finished with his beer. It was then that a door opened from upstairs, followed by feminine laughter and the clicking of heels.

Lysandra descended first, looking perfectly elegant in an emerald slip dress that brought out the green in her eyes. She tossed her raven hair over her shoulder as she caught Aedion’s eye, sending him a bright and loving smile.

Rowan barely heard the two of them complimenting one another, all thoughts flying from his head at the sight of the woman walking down the stairs.

Aelin looked stunning, though Rowan knew stunning wasn’t really strong enough of a word to describe her in this instance.

She wore a golden silk dress that hit just above the knee. The conservativeness of the length was offset by the way it hugged each and every curve, as if it had been sewn on to her body specifically. Thin straps held it over her shoulders, leaving her toned arms bare. Aelin’s hair had been straightened and left hanging freely in a gleaming sheet down her back. It was then that Rowan realized how rarely he got to see her with her hair down. When Aelin was working or working out, it was always tossed up in a bun or a ponytail. It suited her. She wore a necklace, and it wasn’t until she got closer that Rowan was able to see that the pendant was a golden sword. It was strangely fitting.

She was slipping something into her clutch, barely even noticing Rowan until she nearly walked through him. Her eyes snapped up, the stunning turquoise color brought out by her eyeshadow look. Her gaze traveled from his feet to the top of his head, assessing and nothing more.

“You clean up better than I expected,” Aelin said simply.

Rowan wished he had something witty up his sleeve, but seeing Aelin in that dress had left his mind in shambles. He was only able to grind out a curt, “Thanks.”

She held his gaze for a moment longer, leaving Rowan to wonder what was going through her head. Before he had much more time to ponder it, she swept away, grabbing a jacket by the door.

“So, is everyone ready?” she asked.

“In case you didn’t notice,” Aedion drawled. “We were all waiting for you two.”

Aelin ignored the tiny quip, smoothing down the sides of her dress. “Well then, let's get going. We have a wedding to attend.”

…

The ride to the venue was uneventful. Aelin sat in the back besides Rowan while Aedion drove them all. The car was filled with friendly chatter back and forth, pop music droning on in the background.

Aelin tried to stop herself from sending sly glances towards Rowan. He looked good tonight. Really good. Rowan was hot on a day to day basis, something that not even his drab PT uniform could hide. But tonight, all cleaned up and dressed in something nice, Rowan was unfairly handsome.

Her only solace was knowing that he was checking her out too. Aelin knew she looked amazing tonight. Part of it was for herself, and she wasn’t ashamed to admit that part of it was to gain Rowan’s attention. She had been successful in that endeavor.

Aelin wasn’t stupid. She knew Rowan found her attractive just as Rowan knew she found him attractive. They had been ready to go out and probably bang until they realized that they were coworkers. Aelin had agreed to keep it professional, but she would be lying if she said that she didn’t want something more with him.

Soon enough, Aedion was parking the car outside the venue. They filed out, Aelin smoothing and straightening her dress, a sort of heaviness in her gut as she looked towards where the ceremony would be held. Although she was excited to see Dorian, and happy that he had found love, she was less than excited about seeing Chaol again.

The scent of pine and snow surrounded her just as Rowan came up to her side.

“You ready?” Aelin asked him, to which he gave a stiff nod. “Good. Don’t embarrass me.”

Rowan scowled, but held out his arm for her regardless. Aelin took it, stepping close to his side, trying to ignore how nice the warmth of his body felt against her own.

It was time to get this over with.

…

The ceremony was simple yet beautiful. Any idiot could see how in love Dorian and Sorscha were with one another. Aelin had only met the bride on a few occasions, but she liked her. Sorscha looked stunning in a flowy gown that made her brown skin glow.

Aelin pointedly ignored Chaol even though he stood right by Dorian the entire time. Instead, she looked at the maid of honor, Yrene, who her ex was now dating. Through talking to Dorian, Aelin had learned that Chaol and Yrene had met through Sorscha. Apparently, the two women worked at the same hospital and were close friends.

Yrene was a beautiful woman with kind eyes. Aelin knew in her gut that she would like her once they got to talking. Perhaps they would find time to chat through the night.

The ceremony ended with a sweet kiss and the happy couple going off to take some photographs. For the guests, it was time to cocktail.

Rowan, at least, was playing the part of a boyfriend well. Without complaint, surprisingly. He held her hand as they went towards where cocktail hour was being held, a steady presence. He even chatted with her, asking her questions about how she knew Dorian. When she whispered snide comments about other guests, he even laughed a few times. It was… nice, she supposed. She was having a good time with him.

Lysandra and Aedion were swept up by Dorian’s parents, leaving Aelin and Rowan by themselves.

The more they drank, the more comfortable they became. It was easier to laugh, easier to forget why they had put distance between them to begin with. They had been pretty good at avoiding conversation with others to begin with, but Aelin knew it was only a matter of time before they crossed paths with someone.

“So what do we say if someone asks how we met?” Rowan asked as they grabbed another drink from the bar.

“We tell them the truth,” Aelin deadpanned. “Sexting on tinder.”

Rowan choked on his whiskey. “We cannot say that.”

“Fine. We can be boring and say we met at work.”

Rowan laughed, and Aelin realized how much she loved the sound. She liked how it softened his normally stony face, made him appear younger, lighter. She could get used to seeing him like this.

They turned from the bar, taking a few steps into the crowd, only to come face to face with the reason Aelin had dragged Rowan along to begin with.

“Aelin,” Chaol Westfall greeted, offering a shaking and awkward smile. “Hi.”

The smile that had been painted on Aelin’s face faltered slightly. She had been enjoying her time with Rowan so much she had forgotten why she had wanted him by her side to begin with.

“Chaol,” Aelin said, smiling tightly. “It’s good to see you again.”

Yrene was on his arm, looking stunning in a deep purple dress, curly hair loose and voluminous. Her honey eyes were bright and kind as she smiled at Aelin.

“You too,” Chaol said, before motioning towards the woman beside him. “This is Yrene. My girlfriend.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Yrene greeted, reaching out and shaking her hand. “I love your dress.”

“Oh, thank you! I’ve been looking at your shoes all night.” Aelin put a hand on Rowan’s shoulder, pressing herself to his side. “This is Rowan.”

Aelin watched carefully as they all shook hands and greeted one another, carefully studying facial expressions and body language. She had wondered if this would be awkward and tense but… it was normal.

Aelin and Chaol had ended on terrible terms, treating one another like actual shit. She remembered the insults thrown, the glares when they happened to be in the same room. But maybe… maybe they had gotten better. Maybe some time and distance had eased away the worst of the anger and toxicity. She didn’t look at Chaol and feel bad anymore she felt… nothing.

But she could tell that Chaol had Yrene and he cared very much about her.

And Aelin had…

Well, she didn’t really have anyone but…

She looked to Rowan, and for once didn’t try to avoid the longing that swelled in her chest. She wished she had him.

…

Aelin sat down at her table, sipping at a glass of champagne and watching the people on the dancefloor sway slowly to the soft music playing.

The rest of the evening had gone by smoothly. Aelin enjoyed the time she spent with her friends, getting to see Dorian again even though she couldn’t steal much of his time. All and all, it had been fun.

The night was winding down, people filtering out slowly, but there were still those who lingered for a few more dances. Dorian danced with his new wife, both looking at one another with so much love Aelin could feel it from where she sat. Lysandra smiled and laughed and Aedion twirled her around. Chaol held Yrene to his chest as they swayed slowly, lost in their own world.

Aelin sighed and rested her chin on her palm, watching them all move.

There was the sound of footfalls coming her way, stealing her attention from the dance floor. She looked up and found Rowan standing before her, looking to where her gaze was just focused but glancing back at her with a raised brow.

“Do you want to dance?”

Aelin blinked in surprise, sure she had heard him incorrectly. Rowan didn’t seem like the type of man who enjoyed dancing but… the offer hung there.

“You don’t have to,” Aelin said softly. “You did your part.”

“I can tell you want to dance. So, let’s dance. It’s almost time to go anyway.”

Aelin hesitated a beat, studying Rowan’s expression carefully. She didn’t want him to do anything he was uncomfortable with, yet his face showed nothing but sincerity. Rowan held out a hand towards her, brow raised as if to say Well? Are you coming?

A hesitant smile found its way onto Aelin’s face, but she accepted his hand, letting him guide her to her feet. Rowan led her to the center of the dance floor, placing a polite hand on her hip, the other clutching her own. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Aelin could have sworn time stopped. Maybe she had imagined it, but she was almost sure she saw a flash of the same longing she felt in his eyes.

They began to sway slowly to the music. It was a little awkward at first, but as time passed and the notes rang out, the tension lessened. They moved closer and closer to one another, until to a stranger they might have actually appeared to be a regular couple. It felt more natural than Aelin expected it to.

As the songs played, they kept sending one another shy smiles. Aelin wasn’t sure at what point she rested her head against Rowan’s chest as they danced, but she never wanted that moment to end.

It was a shame that the reception was inching to a close, that the night of being close to Rowan would end. It was a shame that, come the morning, they would go back to being strangers once more.

But, for tonight, Aelin was content to pretend.

[falcqns]

partner in crime ll

pairing: August Walker x OFC (Maeve)

summary: August and Maeve get acquainted.

warnings: fluff! dad!august.

a/n: this will eventually be a august x reader story, but that won't happen for a few more chapters, sorry! hope you enjoy! I also would like to say I hated writing him building her crib bc it brought back memories of me trying to assemble Lavenders while in labor bc im a dumb ass and left it to her due date LMAO.

August was in way over his head.

he'd been trying for the better part of an hour to get Maeve down for a nap so he could put her crib together. he had tried a bottle, and a pacifier, but nothing was working. he refused to call Anais, he had just gotten the little girl, and he didn't want to lose her.

he may not be the best thing for her, but he was all she had left, and he was determined to do better than his mother at this single parent thing.

it startled him slightly just how similar his life and Maeve's were. both were either raised or being raised by a single parent, and both had a dead parent. for him it was his father, for her it was her mother.

that thought worried him. who would she go to when she got her first period? when she had boy trouble? when she needed someone who wasn't him for something he couldn't help with? is he limiting her possibilities by just being raised by him?

he didn't have any brothers or sisters. his parents were older when they had him; late 40's, and his fathers parents were dead as well, and his mom stopped talking to her family when she was 18. he never knew why, but based on the way she treated him, he could only guess it was abuse.

he didn't want that for Maeve. he wanted her to grow up happy and healthy, the way he was before his father was killed.

he glanced back down at the little girl who wouldn't settle, and had absolutely no idea what to do. he laid her on his bed, and that's when he noticed her shorts were sagging slightly, and he finally clued in to the issue.

he walked over to the bag that Anais had brought, and headed back to the bedroom. he dropped it as he walked in when he saw Maeve about to fall off the bed face first. he caught her in time, and was about to scold her, when he realized he was at fault.

that's right. he thought. can't leave babies alone.

he sighed, and laid her back on the bed, before opening up her bag.

he was shocked at what he found. she only had one other outfit, and those were pyjamas. she had 3 diapers, a small package of wipes, and one stuffed animal.

August still didn't fully know what she needed, but he knew she needed more than just one stuffed animal.

he took her shorts off, and his mind blanked. he had absolutely no idea how to change a diaper.

he grabbed his phone and made a quick google search of 'how to change a diaper'

he clicked on the first link he found, and followed the instructions carefully.

Unfasten the diaper tabs.

August grasped the diaper tabes, and pulled them away from the diaper. the diaper came undone, and he looked back at his phone.

Slide the diaper away.

He slid the diaper away, wrapped it up as best as he could, and placed it onto the ground next to him, so Maeve couldn't reach it. something inside of him told him that the dirty diaper was something she shouldn't touch.

he glanced up at her, and saw she was watching him intently, as she sucked on her pacifier. she wasn't crying, so he must be doing it right.

Wipe the baby clean.

he used one of the very few wipes to clean her up, before tossing that on top of the dirty diaper next to him.

Slide a clean diaper under your baby's bottom.

he grabbed one of the three diapers from the bag, making a mental note to order more diapers once she was asleep. he may not know much, but he knew that two diapers wouldn't last the rest of the afternoon and the night.

Close the new diaper.

he pulled the tabs away from where they were, and pulled them around to the front, mimicking the way he found the diaper in the first place.

he placed her shorts back on, and stood up. he lifted her up, and carried her into the living room, where he sat her on the ground in front of the tv.

"stay." he told her, and walked back into the bedroom to dispose of the diaper.

his heart dropped into his stomach when he walked back, however. Maeve wasn't where he left her. he thought if she was on the floor, she'd have less of a chance of getting hurt when he wasn't right there.

he glanced around the open concept area of his apartment, and saw a burgundy bum disappear around the corner, towards the laundry room.

he raced after her, and scooped her up just before she entered the room.

"lets not go in there, its not safe." he said, sternly, but immediately knew it was the wrong decision when she burst into tears.

"shit." he said. he turned her around, and held her the way he'd seen Anais hold her earlier. "its okay. i'm sorry."

she settled down slightly after his apology, and laid her head on his shoulder. he saw her eyes flutter closed, and made his way back through his apartment to the bedroom. he shut the door softly, attempting not to wake her, and placed her now sleeping body on his bed.

he'd done some research last night, and knew he should move the pillows from around her. she was only 7 months, and he knew she was still in the SIDS risk category. he didn't want to risk it, so he moved the pillows and placed them around her as a makeshift crib. he turned around, and faced the actual crib, which was only half assembled.

he sighed and got to work.

Maeve stayed asleep for a few hours, which according to her file, was normal for her.

he headed into the kitchen, and looked at the box that held her highchair. it was almost 3 pm, so she'd most likely be hungry by the time she awoke.

August found that the highchair was much easier to assemble. it took him only 15 minutes rather than a few hours.

next, he scoured his cabinets for something suitable for her to eat while he ordered dinner.

he rarely bought groceries any more, since he was barely home due to missions, which was something he needed to talk to Sloane about. would she still let him on missions? would he be stuck on desk duty? who would watch Maeve? if he did find someone to watch her, would they be suitable to his taste for watching her?

he shook those questions out of his head briefly, and found Cheerios.

he loved Cheerios, and hoped that Maeve would too. her file said that she could eat most foods, and decided to order Chinese food for dinner. wasn't the healthiest for her, but it would do. he also ordered a few more things for Maeve, such as diapers, baby food and snacks, and few toys. he didn't know if she had other toys when she was living with her mother, but she needed some.

while he waited for her to wake up, and the food and baby items to arrive, he looked up some toys that he could get for her. he thought about what he played with, but the memory was fuzzy, and he didn't think Legos were suitable for a 7 month old.

he ended up buying a Children's Factory 5 Piece Ball Pit, a Melissa and Doug play kitchen, an iPad, a few Barbies, big Lego blocks, a few books and puzzles. he knew it wouldn't be everything he needed, but it was a start. he glanced around the apartment, and decided to start looking for a bigger one.

the one he lived in, while small, was rather expensive. it was only. one bedroom, but had a full laundry, two full bathrooms, a large terrace, and even an outdoor entertaining area upstairs. he knew Maeve would need a playroom, and a bedroom, and he'd need an office so he could keep Maeve and work separate.

he was about to look at apartments when he heard Maeve crying, he little sobs tugging on his heart strings already.

dinner time went rather well, August thought. he gave her small cut up bits of everything, and the only thing she didn't like was the fortune cookie. she ate up all the noodles, and the lemon chicken, as well as the Cheerios.

he decided to skip bath time for today, he was way to nervous to handle a wet slippery baby by himself right now.

he put a sheet on her mattress, and laid her down with her stuffy, and her pacifier, and she drifted off to sleep rather easily.

August laid in his bed and watched his daughters chest move up and down while she slept.

that wasn't too bad, he thought to himself.

[imnotwolverine]

The Accidental Family - I am..WHAT?!

Henry Cavill x OFC Phoebe (Bee) 

Warnings: mentions of smut, strong language, unplanned pregnancy, sad fluff

Word count: 2.414

Author’s note: OKAY..one more to finish the year. I’m writing this while frying oliebollen (Dutch dough balls we eat during festivities) and my fingers are all sticky and sweet, but hey; I can’t leave you readers hanging on the last day of this miserable year! Kisses 😘

(Link to my Masterlist)

--

Phoebe was done with it all. Done with this week; done with the slump that was her life right now. She just worked through a week with three over-time shifts at the hospital, some annoyances with her new IUD and Leon. Fucking-fucktard Leon. 

But tonight she was going to be a big girl and suck it up, because heck; she was a good friend and tonight was Megan’s night. After long years of hard toil and shitty side-jobs, Megan had MADE it. She had gotten her first serious acting gig and tonight was the premiere, to which Phoebe would be her +1. 

Single girls unite. 

Sighing, Phoebe leaned into her make-up mirror, applying a coat of lipgloss to her pursed lips, heavy eyelashes fluttering. She never wore this much make-up, but it seemed like a thing you did when you went to such a fancy party. An A-lister party. Would Meryl Streep be there? She always had wanted to meet Meryl Streep. 

Smacking her lips to feel the stickiness of her lipgloss - why did people like wearing this crap? -, she moved out to the hall of her small apartment where she heard the intercom buzz. Alright. Showtime. 

‘Coming!’ She called to nobody in particular, hastily looking over the rows of shoes that were messily stacked by her door. Heels - heels - heels. And that scarf. Leon’s scarf. “Accidentally” left behind after he had come over to finally pick up the last of his things. She couldn’t stand the sight of it, and if it were a “good girl thing” to do, she’d shove it down the trash right now - like the trash he was. Cheater.

*tringgg* 

Hurry! -- Okay, shoes! Purple, brown, practical, no - no - no.. And then her eye fell on the perhaps a bit painful, but very much sexy heels she had once bought to wear for her 6th anniversary with Leon. Fuck-Me-Pumps. With silvery diamond straps and all. He hadn’t given two damns about them, about her dreams she had tried to talk about during that dinner - kids - but then again, Phoebe learned a year later why that was; CHEATER. 

‘Please bring me luck, babies.’ Phoebe mumbled, picking up the intercom that buzzed again. ‘Just putting on my shoes. Down in a minute.’ 

‘Alright m’am.’ A deep voice responded politely. 

Was that the driver? It must be the driver! They had a driver?! OH MEGAN, YOU! 

Excitement started to bubble in Phoebe’s tired bones as she realised that perhaps for tonight, things could be fun - painful shoes and all. 

Show-time. 

--

The water boiler gurgled lazily on the countertop, two pairs of eyes staring down at it, willing it to go faster. 

‘You didn’t respond to my text.’ Henry tried to keep a casual tone, but even with all his acting experience, the hurt was evident as his blue eyes swiftly moved over to Phoebe, who that had just knocked on his door after 3 months of radio silence. 

‘Yea...’ Phoebe cleared her throat and awkwardly leaned into the opposite kitchen counter Henry was leaning into. The tension was tangible and for a moment she scolded herself for pushing Megan to find out Henry’s address. 

‘..some..stuff happened.’ 

‘Is this the point where you’re going to tell me you’re married and your husband found out?’ 

Phoebe’s eyes widened and a chuckle escaped her lips, making Henry frown. ‘That might have just made all this a bit easier. But eh..no. I ..’ 

--

‘FEEEEBBsss where WEREEEE youu. Oh my god. Have you met..’ Phoebe could barely manage to stay balanced on her high heels as Megan’s hand dragged her away from the toilets - away from him - and onto one of the far corners of the crowded room where some mildly creepy man was waving at Megan. Megan waved back, but Phoebe could only focus on the burst of white camera flashes behind her, her eyes wishing to look if he followed. 

But Megan’s grip was tight and Phoebe was perhaps three shot glasses too drunk to stay on her feet AND look over her shoulder - the deep pink blush on her cheeks betraying that something was going on. 

‘..so I had this super fun chat with Michael. You know Michael right? I mean he was crazyyy excited about..Phoebe? Earth to Phoebe!’ Megan’s neatly manicured nail prodded into Phoebe’s silvery dress, awakening the blond woman from her over-shoulder stare when they finally had halted. 

‘Wh-what? Hi! Sorry. Eh..’ Instantly the deep pink worsened on Phoebe’s cheeks as Megan shot her one unbelieving wild eyed stare - she knew. Oh fuck, she knew. 

‘You know what - if you’d excuse us for a moment.’ Megan smiled charmingly at the old man that was checking her out for all the wrong reasons. 

Again Megan’s hand pulled on her arm, but this time they travelled less far, walking out to a more quiet area guarded by some heavy red curtains which offered a walkway for the staff who much resembled an army of tuxedo clad ants moving large trays of fizz around. 

‘You are 50 shades of red, hun.’ Megan chuckled, wiping some mildly smudged lipgloss from Phoebe’s chin. 

‘Oh, woops.’ Phoebe quickly mimicked the wipe on her chin, but the sticky residue was already gone - though other sticky residue on some other lips were most definitely still there. 

Shit, she had to get cleaned up fast. She wasn’t even wearing any PANTIES. DAMMIT. Oh my...how..why..Wobbling dangerously on her heels again, Phoebe lurched for one of the walls, a sudden wave of nausea coming over her as her red cheeks turned bitter green.

‘Awh shit Feebs. You OK? Eh..Ehhhhh...’ Nervously Megan looked around the stretch of the hallway, black and white tuxedos cruising deftly around with the patterns of a well-practised champagne carrying dance. 

‘Pfff...’ Phoebe tried to breath in deeply, inhaling whatever air she could muster in her suddenly claustrophobically tight lungs. Oh what did she do?!!! OH NO. Oh Christ. Good girls don’t shag in toilet stalls. Good girls don’t... ‘Pff - pff -pff’ With short little puffs she let out the air, but the nausea didn’t fade. How did pregnant women do that? Damn. 

‘I gotta go home.’ 

‘Yea-yea. Let me fix you a cab.’ Megan clipped her fingers and in a few minutes Phoebe was loaded into a cab, away from the bustling bubble of Hollywood A-listers and hot shots. 

The fairytale, was over. 

--

‘I got scared.’ 

‘Of me?’ Henry’s face pulled into one of agony, making him look even more disheveled with his wild curls, crumpled white shirt - which looked much too good on his large chest - and loose hanging grey sweatpants. 

‘No. I mean. Eh. Well. I lost my phone and..I called..and..someone picked up.’ 

‘Lea? Miranda? What someone?’ Henry stepped a little closer as the water cooker started to come to a slow boil. 

‘I don’t know. I -- They said they never heard of me, so I explained what..happened - oh fuck I shouldn’t have..I...pfffff. I panicked.’ A heavy blush crept over her cheeks as she nervously eyed the water boiler, the little lever moving back to “off” as the water danced in a heavy boil within.

‘Gr-green tea? English tea? Mint? I got some..’ Henry’s voice trailed off.

Phoebe shrugged and brushed a hand over her cheek, willing herself to stop blushing as the large stranger of a man brushed passed her to reach for the tea bags that were located just beside her head. 

‘Oh sorry.’ She quickly tried to get away, but Henry could only grin. 

‘It’s not funny, Cavill.’ Phoebe pouted shyly. 

‘Well you stood me up. I’m allowed to..smile, no?’ 

Phoebe opened her mouth to say something. Perhaps ask for forgiveness, or further her explanation to why she chickened out to trying again - and how she had even gotten his address. But no words came and so she just watched as Henry turned back to the task of making tea, bunching a few mint leaves in the two grey mugs that were settled on the smooth grey kitchen counter. 

This man sure liked his greys. 

‘I eh..actually ..had to tell you something.’ 

Even Phoebe herself wasn’t prepared for the words that had just escaped her lips, but there they were, earning a surprised quirk of Henry’s eyebrow. 

‘You don’t say.’ His lip curled into another cheeky grin and Phoebe couldn’t help but roll her eyes at him. Henry chuckled and hinted in the direction of the kitchen table. ‘Let’s sit.’ 

-- And that was a very good idea -- 

--

‘Meg..oh I’m in deep shit.’ Phoebe paced her small hallway as she waited for her friend’s voice to soothe her stomach fluttering nerves, her new smartphone clutched tightly in her hand. 

‘Oh- oh- wait a sec. Baby..yea..mommy is gonna be righttt there. Just a moment okay?’ A short pause followed and then Megan finally answered. ‘HEYY booo. What’s cooking goodlookin’?’ 

‘A baby, that’s what.’ 

‘W-what?’ 

--

Why didn’t he say anything? Phoebe nervously fingered the ear of her mug, waiting for Henry to give any kind of response to what she had just explained, and for the slightest moment she considered fleeing again - like she had numerous times when she tried to find the courage and call him, text him - anything. But that just hadn’t sat right, felt right. And then for long weeks she just pushed the reality of it all away. How could she be pregnant?! HOW?! 

The new IUD, that’s how. But, Henry had used protection; how much bad luck could one have?! So much for accidents that happen in cramped little bathroom stalls. 

Finally Henry made a noise, but it was more like a surprised squeak, then any normal sound a man his size would make. 

‘I’m sorry.’ Phoebe lowered her eyes a little more, taking it up as a; yea, this is not cool, girlfriend.

No, scratch that - she was not even his girlfriend. Ha! They were strangers for fuck’s sake. 

‘O-okay.’ Henry inhaled deeply and nodded, brushing a hand over the head of his dog, who was pushing a curious nose into his lap. ‘Okay. Wow.’ 

‘Yea..’ Phoebe swallowed thickly. ‘I..I’m keeping it either way. But..I thought..’ Her fingers had apparently curled around the mug so fiercely that it right about screamed as its small ear broke off. ‘OH FUCK.’ Her eyes widened as her lips turned into a shocked little “o”. 

Henry laughed. ‘Well, we better get new mugs before that baby is born.’ 

Was he being sarcastic? Phoebe felt like she was close to tears as the man before her cracked out the mug joke. Oh, why did she always ruin things?! 

‘Oh don’t cry. Please don’t cry. It’s just a mug.’ Henry’s smile turned into a pained lip bite as he saw the silvery tears rim Phoebe’s eyes. But Phoebe couldn’t help it, her lower lip already shivering as she looked down at the broken little tea ear in her hand. 

‘I’m sorry..’ She whimpered pathetically, the first tears already beading down her cheek before Henry could push away his chair and squat down beside her. 

‘Hey-hey. It’s okay. It’s..hey, come on now.’ 

‘I’ll *sniff* g-get a new..ha..new one *sniff*’ 

Henry smiled, slowly shaking his head before he carefully brushed his fingers through her golden locks, hooking them behind her ear so he could properly see her face. 

‘Bee..’ His voice lowered to a gentle hum.

‘It’s Phoebe by the way.’ She sniffled. 

‘Okay. Hello Phoebe.’ His hand folded around her hand that was carefully holding onto the broken off mug ear. Hesitantly, Phoebe looked away from her hand, right into the blue ocean that had drawn her in some three months ago from across the crowded room. She now too noticed a little fleck of brown in there - a little accidental mutation. Would the baby have his eyes? 

‘H-hi.’ She sniffled, trying her best to turn her lips in a smile, but it only worsened everything, more tears bursting from her eyes as the stress and chaos of the past months came crashing down. In an instant she felt herself be enveloped by large warm arms, a hot breath fanning over her head as Henry nuzzled her hair, his lips brushing over the shell of her ear as he spoke: 

‘It was just an accident, okay? No harm done.’ 

Phoebe nodded, but scolded herself anyways. Sure enough he was just talking about the mug. The stupid fucking mug. But what about the fucking baby?! Her..- his - baby. 

‘Phoebe? Bee?’ He settled back a little, his fingers brushing through her hair again. ‘How about we go sit on the couch and I make you a new cup of tea and we..’ He licked his lip as his eyes quickly flew over her heart-shaped, tear bruised face. He had to try hard not to unnecessarily coo over her. He didn’t want to chase her away this time. Especially not now. Not with this..situation.

A..baby?!

‘You don’t have to be so nice you know.’ Phoebe muttered, looking back at him. 

‘Well, too bad I’m a nice guy then.’ -- Who is going to be a dad!!! WOO! --  His lips curled in a sweet smile. 

‘Nice guys don’t shag women in bathroom stalls, do they?’ 

Henry cleared his throat at her sharp words, quickly looking down at his hand covering hers. ‘Yea..that was a ..bit uncharacteristic of mine. Ha..fuck..You know I scolded myself so hard for doing that. I-I sent you a pretty long Whatsapp message after, but..’ 

‘I never got that. Must be some syncing issue when I got my new phone.’ Phoebe’s lips curled in a watery smile. ‘The couch is fine.’ 

‘Okay.’ Henry’s smile grew a little. ‘Can you walk?’ 

‘Pff..Of course I can walk.’ She huffed, before she all but flew up into Henry’s chest in surprise when she was nuzzled by a very wet nose. 

‘Oh, I forgot to mention, this is Kal. My dog. And he likes the word “walk”’ - the dog borked softly - ‘very much.’ 

They both laughed and Kal’s ears perked up, his wet nose pressing in Phoebe’s elbow again, pushing her further up into Henry’s welcoming arms. 

The whole situation was weird, but as Henry felt how naturally they somehow melted into an embrace, her arms wrapping around his back, he could only smile. 

Sometimes accidents simply offered you the little push you needed all along. Be it in the form of broken mugs or babies. 

--

General Tagsquad: @harrysthiccthighss @tumblnewby @magdelen69 @thereisa8ella @mary-ann84 @darkbooksarwin @summersong69 @madbaddic7ed @luclittlepond @maroonmolly @just-a-normal-fangirl18 @hell1129-blog @agniavateira @tillthelandslide @elinesama

@tryingtoliveonmywishes @ceilingfann @do-youseeme

[babeyvenus]

The Wolf Among Us

Bigby x OC

Summary: Sonya Blaze, A.K.A. Hell Rider, is a half fable, half mundy girl who comes to Fabletown to learn more about her side of the folktales. She works alongside Sheriff Bigby Wolf's as his newest partner and together they strive to find out who's behind the unexpected murders in Fabletown.

TW: Mentions of death, gore/blood, alcohol, drugs, sex implications, suicide, guns and ofc language.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Chapter 3: Rough Night

After the ruckus with the Woodsman, we went back to the Woodlands. “You have a key to your place?”, he asks. I nod, “Yeah”. He looked at me in disbelief. “How’d you manage to get that door open? I couldn’t get in without almost breaking the handle.” I chuckle. “Well, it took a few tries until I lifted the door a little and gave it a little kick. A little.”, I emphasized.

He rubbed behind his neck. “I guess you’re a little gentler than I am.” I smile. “You’ll get there.” We walked up to the entrance of the Woodlands, him holding the door open for me as I walked in. We both paused to hear rustling leaves behind a tree. Bigby crossed his arms. “Don’t make me come over there.”

A woman comes from behind a tree timidly. Bigby lowered his arms. “Beauty.” This is Beauty? From Beauty and The Beast? She’s a lot different than Disney’s version….

“Hello Bigby. And…?”, she greeted, before seeing me. I wave, giving her smile. “Sonya.” She smiles at me. “Its a little late to be out here.”, Bigby says. She stepped off of the grass. “I know it looks a little odd, but I’ve got an explanation for this.” Bigby sighs. “Okay.” She steps away timidly. “Just don’t tell Beast you saw me. Its not what you think it is, I’m just working.”

This late…? “Sure…”, Bigby says. Beauty nodded and slipped out of the entrance. Bigby sighs heavily and walks to the building. I followed behind, taking note of the sleeping doorman. “Very hardworking, Grimble.”, I mutter. Of course he wouldn’t have heard me. We walked to the elevators, ready to get upstairs until another person stopped us.

“Bigby, have you seen my wife? Have you seen Beauty?”, the man asks. That’s Beast!? What’s going on between them….? Bigby shook his head. “We haven’t seen her.” Beast huffs. “Dammit! There’s something going on…”

Bigby quickly pushes the close doors button, making the doors shut and lift the elevator. “I gotta Swineheart to do a check up on you.”, he says. I look at him in confusion. “Why? I’m fine.”

He pokes my side, making me wince and hold my side. “Sure…”, he mutters, crossing his arms again. The elevator opens and he walks out. “Let’s go.” He leads me to my apartment and waits for me. I unlock the door and show him how to open it. I pause. Why am I showing him? I glance at him and he looks at me. “What?”

I shake my head, letting out a soft sigh. “Nothing. Just don’t make fun of my place. I don’t have much. Yet.” I open the door and turn on the lights, the brightness making my eyes squint. He looked around and closed the door. “Huh. Looks no different than my place. Aside from the fact it looks cleaner and smells cleaner.”

I looked at him. “You really do have the smallest apartment, don’t you?” He looked at me with an eyebrow raised. “What, you thought it was a joke?”, he asks, walking over to my couch and sits down.

“I mean...I just think its kinda unfair to give you the smallest apartment since,” I gestured to him. “Y’know…” He leaned up a bit, placing his arms on his knees with an amused expression. “No, I don’t know. Since I’m now intrigued by your concern, what do you mean?”

I narrowed my eyes at him for a bit. “Now, I don’t wanna tell. Aren’t you supposed to be calling this Swineheart guy?” He perked up at that. “I forgot.” He looked around. “You don’t have a phone here?” I walked over to my lamp table and pulled my phone from my bag. “I kinda figured I wouldn’t need it while we were out since you guys don’t use cellphones nor know how they work. Just give me his number.”

Bigby told me his Swineheart’s number and I handed him my phone. He took it and held it to his ear, giving Swineheart my address. Moments later, we heard a knock on my door. Bigby went to answer it and greeted a grey haired man. “This is Dr. Swineheart. He’s Fabletown’s physician.”

I got up to greet him and he gave me a tired smile. “Its nice to meet you. Now, what’s the problem?”I rubbed my side. “We kinda fought the Woodsman and I’m sore.” Bigby rolled his eyes, sitting on my couch. “He broke her ribs. I heard it.”

I frowned at his snitching. Swineheart hummed. “Can I take a look?” I hesitantly lifted my shirt to show him the damage. It was a dark bruise showing, not too big but big enough to catch anyone’s eye. He sighed. “They’re definitely broken.”, Swineheart says, making Bigby huff in satisfaction. I turned to glare at him, but he was facing a window with his chin propped in his palm.

I faced Swineheart, shaking my head as he let out an amused snort. “I can give you a medicinal patch to get rid of the bruise and heal your ribs from the inside since you’re half mundy.” I look at him with curious eyes. “You know?” He nods. “I suspected as much considering there shouldn’t be any mundies here but you survived an attack that would’ve killed you and you have no idea who I am, so it wasn’t all that hard to piece together.”

He reaches into his bag and hands me a patch. I took off the plastic wrap and gently stuck it to my side. “Alright. Now, in a few minutes, you should feel a little tingling and it should be working to heal you.”, Swineheart says. I nodded. “Thanks Doc.” He smiles, gives us both a nod before leaving.

I sigh and turn to Bigby. “What about you? Didn’t you need a check up?” He looks at me. “I called him for you, not me.”, he says and gets up. He places a hand on my shoulder. “Just make sure to get some rest. I’ll check on you later.” With that, he leaves. I take his advice and sway over to my couch. Laying down, I snuggle into the cushions and close my eyes.

Bigby’s POV

After leaving Sonya’s place, I went to mine, ready to just sleep in my chair. Hopefully Colin isn’t in it. I walked in the door and went to the kitchen to clean my face before taking my phone off of the ringer. I need some peace…

I opened a window to get fresh air in the place before walking over to my chair. To my disappointment, I saw the pig in my chair, knocked out. I nudged him awake. He yawns, “Oh, hey, Bigby.” I stared at him with a frown. “I’m in your chair, aren’t I?”, he asks. “Its the only one here.”, I tell him. He waddles out of the chair and sits across from me. I sit in with a huff and pull out my cigarettes, tapping the bottom and popping one in my mouth.

“Got a smoke?”, I hear Colin ask before looking at him. I sighed through my nose and lit the cigarette. Before I got up, I took a drag before blowing it out and handing it to him. I sat back in my seat, sighing out my drag. “Thanks, Bigby. A couple more thousand of these and you’’l be out of debt.”

I rubbed my eyes. “This has to stop. You cannot be sneaking off the Farm like this.”, I say. He didn’t like that. “The fresh air and sunshine pitch they sell you is complete bullshit. I didn’t escape the Homelands just to end up in some prison, okay? Don’t send me back there, Bigby. You don’t know what its like over there.”, Colin says, as I get up to get some bourbon. “That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?”, I ask, pouring the drink in the cup.

“That for me?”, he asked once I brought the cup to my lips. “Nope.”, I say, walking out of the kitchen. “I’m just saying, the house didn’t blow itself down. Do with that what you will.Now I’m not saying it’s reason enough for me to have definitely been offered a drink, but…uh….it would have helped ease some of the pain you once caused me, yes. It also would have shown everyone how different you are now.”, he says and I take a sip. “I take it all back. This is why everyone hates you.”, he says. I pause and turn to him. “So, everyone hates me?” He smirked. “No, I’m just shittting you.”

I roll my eyes and go back to my chair. “No, hate’s the wrong word. Its more of fear. They fear you more than anything. You did eat a lot of people back in your day.” I shake my head. “I thought we were all supposed to have a fresh start here. I can’t change the past.”

“Well, you can’t change people’s memories either.”, Colin says, as we sit down. I frown at him. “Look, I’m not saying its fair, but its real. People are scared of you. Look at your knuckles.” I looked down to see my knuckles reddened and bruised. “Who’d you get into a fight with? A fable, right? There’s no way you’re punching Mundies.”

“I was actually doing my job, believe it or not.”, I say. Colin frowns in disbelief. “Your job is to beat the shit out of fables?” When they get out of line, yes.

I stayed quiet. “Fuck you.”, Colin muttered. I sighed harshly. “You think my job is easy? You try keeping a bunch of fables from killing each other. How do you think this all works?” Colin rolled his eyes. “I dunno. How?”

I relaxed in my seat. “By being big and being bad.” Colin cringed. “By being biggg and being baddd. Don’t say that shit. Its embarrassing.” I blink at him and take a sip again, trying to tune him out.

“That’s the attitude that gets you in trouble. I’m sure you were shitty to everyone you came across tonight.” said Colin.

“Not everyone.” I mutter with my lips on the cup. This intrigued Colin. “Name one.” I hum. “I’ve got a new partner, she doesn’t seem to hate me. And this other girl we met tonight… I don’t actually know her name.”

“Awesome. Great example.” said Colin, sarcastically. I prop my chin in my hand, now irritated. “Life is easier with friends, Bigby, and we live a long fuckin’ time. This whole lone wolf thing isn’t working, I mean, I’ve seen the way you look at Snow, okay? You’re not fooling me.”

I looked down at my lap. Its true that I do care about Snow but...I think she cares more about her job than anything. I sigh softly. “Colin, seriously, can I just get some time to rest?”

“Well, maybe if my throat wasn’t so parched I wouldn’t have to keep talking.”, Colin replies. I gave him an incredulous look. “That doesn’t make sense-”

“Just give me the drink, please?”, Colin exasperatedly begged. I rubbed my face, “Colin, enough already. I haven’t slept in two days. I went out a second story window and I just wanna get two seconds of shut eye before-”

He gave me the saddest look he could muster up. I looked at my drink then back at him. “Look, if I give you this, will you please let me sleep?” He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, alright. Probably.”

I sighed, getting up and handed him the cup. He smiles. “Thanks Bigby.” I say nothing and get back in my seat, laying my head back and closed my eyes.

Sonya’s POV

I woke up abruptly to the sound of loud knocking. I wiped my face and walked up to my door to cuss whoever is here this late. I opened the door, glaring at-

“Snow? What the hell?”, I groaned, rubbing my eyes. “I’m sorry, but you have to come with me.”, she says, looking fidgety. “Alright.”, she takes off and I put my shoes on. I leave my place, closing my door and seeing her and Bigby walk towards me.

He looks at me in confusion. “You slept okay?” I grumble. “I slept dandy.” He shakes his head. “I can tell. Your hair tells it all.”, he says, leaving me to pull out my phone and look at my hair. My cheeks burn as I fix it and catch up to them.

We exited the Woodlands, our eyes catching onto a security guard jacket splayed out on the ground. I frowned at Snow. “Please don’t tell me you brought us out here to show us a small dead animal that you could’ve gotten Grimble to bury. I don’t wanna see that.”

She looked at me with a frown. “Of course not. Its worse.” I crossed my arms. “How bad is it?” Bigby went over to the jacket and pulled up. His eyes widened and glanced at me. “What?”, I asked, walking over to him as he pulled the jacket back to reveal a decapitated head.

My heart dropped to my stomach as I saw the girl from earlier. We just saved her. We just talked to her…. “W-What the hell…?”, I whispered in shock. I gagged a bit, looking at her dead expression. I dropped down next to Bigby as he looked away. “I assume you two know her.”, Snow says.

“Barely caught her name.”, Bigby says. “She’s a working girl.” Snow looked at him in confusion. “I’m a working girl. I don’t,” I look at her with a frown. She looked back at me, realization coming to her face. “Oh…”

I couldn’t help but stare into the girl’s dead eyes. I couldn’t get anything. Last moments...nothing. I let out a shaky breath and covered my face. “We saved her today. The Woodsman was beating on her.”

“Who found her…?”, I asked. Snow responded, “I did.” I brought my hands down and looked at the girl again. “She was just like this. I didn’t touch her. I grabbed Grimble’s jacket to cover her with, then… I came to get you two right away.” Snow explained.

“No one else came?” I asked. She shook her head. “Bigby, Sonya, did one of us…do this?”

“There hasn’t been a murder in Fabletown in a long time…” Bigby says, looking at her. I sighed. “Then we shouldn’t cause a panic yet. We can’t let anyone know. Not yet…”, I say.

I heard Bigby grunt softly as he got up. I look up to see him holding a ribbon. “This was hers.”, he says, frowning and analyzing it. I looked back at her and gently closed her eyes. “We should look for clues.”, I say, walking away. I walked over to the left side of the gate, not seeing anything. Maybe whoever came here came over and dropped her head off.

They’d look crazy to come to the front and drop it off. I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to get her face out of my head. I looked over to see Bigby crouching by Snow. I raised an eyebrow, walking over to them. “What’re you doing?”

He looks up at me and shows me a piece of blue fabric. I looked at Snow since she was the only one with blue fabric. She shrugged and I shook my head.

“We should move her. No one else needs to see this.”, I say, walking over to the head and covered her up before picking her up and holding her with care. “You don’t have to do that.”, Bigby says, looking at me with concern.

“Its okay. We need to figure out what happened. I just-”, I shake my head. “I should’ve known something was wrong. Wherever she worked seemed to be treating her horribly. I should’ve asked more questions.”

He walked over to me. “You cannot blame yourself for this. You saw how she barely answered our questions from the beginning.”

He’s right but...how could it even get this bad…? “I’ve gotta tell Crane about this.”, Snow says. “How do you think he’s gonna take this…?”, I asked her. “He may be upset. Since he is Deputy Mayor, this has to be announced to him.”, she says. Bigby grumbled. “I guess it’d be a pain if we kept it from him.”

“Hopefully he won't be too upset.”, I say. Bigby shakes his head. “Don’t hold your breath.”

He turns to me, “Let me take this to Swineheart. You go on in with Snow.” I reluctantly gave him the head and he takes it, giving me a soft smile and nods his head toward Snow. I left him alone with the head, and followed Snow.

As Snow and I walked inside the Woodlands, she smiles at me. “You seem to be getting along with him just fine.” I look at her in confusion. “Was he supposed to be a hard person to get along with?”

She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “He can be a little difficult. And not everyone here gets along with him well because of his past.” I frowned. “I thought the whole point of being here was for everyone to have a fresh start and live among society. Why are they still bugging him?”

She shrugs. “I don’t exactly have an answer for that just yet.” I shake my head and walk to the elevator. “I’ll be back down after I freshen up. I feel gross.”, I say before the elevator doors close and take me to my apartment.

After washing up, I put on my red sleeveless turtleneck and black pants before putting my shoes on and leaving. As I get down to the lobby, I see Bigby talking to someone and I walk up. He notices me and holds the door open. “You’ve gotta be shitting me. I stand here for almost a whole hour and she gets to go in!?”, a black haired man with one blind eye growls.

Bigby looks at him annoyed. “We work here.”, he says, putting his hand on my shoulder and starts to lead me inside. I walk inside, letting him deal with the guy and hear Crane fussing at Snow. “Lord…”, I mutter, rolling my eyes. I knew he wasn’t a good boss.

“And now you’re telling me there’s a killer on the loose while you all titter behind my back!?”, Crane yells. “We didn’t know it was gonna happen! Why’re you fussing!?”, I exclaim.

“Because you two are the ones bringing this to me! The ones who so simply “stumbled” upon this catastrophe on our very doorstep! The last thing I need with Mayor Cole away is a hysteria, do you two understand me!?”, he yells in our face. “Of course, but-”, Snow starts.

“Do not interrupt me, Ms. Snow!”

“The f- you asked us a question!”, I yell in disbelief with his behavior. “Don’t change the subject! You two are to blame for this unpleasantness, Miss Sonya!”, he shouted. I pinched the bridge of my nose.

“We brought you this news as soon as we could!” Snow replies tiredly. “You are trusted to keep things running smoothly here! This is a disaster!” Crane rambles. “Who else is to blame, if not either of you?”

“It isn’t anyone’s fault.” Bigby declares. “Instead of trying to assign blame, maybe we figure out how to catch the fucker who did this.”

“Oh, is that how you see things? Sheriff, you, Ms. Snow and Miss Sonya are the ones in charge of protecting Fabletown. Your failure to do so has cost someone their life and the safety of our community.”, Crane says, walking over to his desk and sits in his chair. How’d someone like him even get a position as Deputy?

I rub my temples. “Tell me you’ve been doing something! Are there any leads? Suspects? Anything? Anything at all? Any shred of evidence you three know what the hell you’re doing?” Crane asked.

Bigby walked up to us and crossed his arms. “Her pimp is a suggestion.” I shrugged. “So is the Woodsman.”

“Her…was she a…?"

"She needed money and we didn’t have enough to give her…”, I say. “Well isn’t that just wonderful. Not only was a Fable killed, but it was a Fable hooker to boot!” Crane said, sarcastically.

“You three need to get a handle on this quickly, and quietly. The last thing we need is all of Fabletown knowing there’s a killer amongst us.” Crane shut his eyes for a bit, then opened them to look at Snow.

“Snow!”

“Yes…sir?” Snow asked. “Call Vivian right this moment and let her know I’m coming in early for my...massage.” Crane demands. I looked at Bigby with slight disgust and confusion. He shakes his head.

“I will.” She complies.

Crane looks around his desk. “Where is the bottle of wine you were to purchase?” Snow looks at him in confusion. “Oh, bother! Forget it! Can’t do anything right.” Crane mutters, walking past me.

I glared at Crane as he walked to the door of the office. “Do your job, Sheriff and Deputy….Or we’ll find someone who can.” He said. Bigby growls lowly, turns around and says. “You know what…”

I give him a pinch. “Stop.”

Crane turns to face us. Snow walks up and gives him a smile. “We’ll get right on it, sir.” Crane turns back and walks out of the office. Bigby sighs with a grumble.

[incorrectbandofbrothersquotes]

I Don’t Think You’re An Angel (Anymore)

A Lewis Nixon x OFC One Shot

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: Thank you to @basilone​ @softspeirs​ and @mercurygray​ for all your help on this! I am much happier with how it turned out thanks to y’all’s suggestions :)

Warning(s): Some suggestive language, but that’s about it

***

Her father once told her that nursing would make her feel fulfilled. It would get her back on her feet after such tragedy struck. Nothing healed like giving back and healing others, he said. Especially after downing whiskey and kissing strangers didn’t work, she thought. 

It did the trick, to be sure. Nursing school was rigorous, but it taught her a lot about herself. She met some of her greatest friends there, and new connections soothed the ache from the burn of the ones she lost. With a new support system, she wearily clawed her way out of the ashes of her grief, and stood up again. And when the war came, she and thousands like her were able to charge into the fray. 

But the last thing Bonnie wanted now was to be on her feet - in a much more literal sense. The Austrian sun shone outside, calling to her, coaxing her to come out and warm her face and rest her sore feet. But she didn’t have a day off for another two days. And after almost eight hours at the hospital, there were still more patients to check on before she could clock out. She felt that familiar throb in her heels as she headed into the next ward. 

Shit.

There he stood. The man she once knew as Lewis Nixon, but for many years, only referred to as “The Worst Mistake I Ever Made.”

Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit.

He was coming closer, accompanied by a red-headed major she didn’t recognize. To her dismay, they headed for Sergeant Grant’s bed, the very patient she was supposed to check on. He was still recovering from his surgery until he was well enough to be moved to England. 

She decided to grit her teeth and bear it. Years had passed. Why should he bother her now? He probably wouldn’t even recognize her. She knew herself to be an unremarkable part of his life. How else could he have done what he did?

She strode over to the bed and ignored the men standing beside it. She lifted Grant’s chart and scanned it, but she couldn’t absorb anything. She could feel Lewis’s eyes on her. Moments that might have been hours passed as he stared, and she pretended she didn’t notice.

“Bonnie?”

Shit.

Biting back a groan, she looked at him, and met his eyes. Those eyes that once made her legs weak and her heart soft. But now only activated her punching reflex. She glanced at his collar to get his rank.

“Captain,” she said coolly. 

She returned her eyes to the clipboard.

“Okay, I know it doesn’t take that long to read a chart,” he said. 

She snapped it shut and glared at him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were a medical professional. Would you like a white coat and stethoscope? Just clock in since you seem to know so much!”

“Still mad, I see,” he said with a grimace.

“Oh, get over yourself,” she shot back. 

“So, you two know each other?” the red-head observed, cutting the tension. 

“It was a long time ago,” she said. “We went to school together.”

“We used to date,” Lewis added. 

“Could not have been more obvious I preferred to keep that private, but I guess we’re in this room now,” she said. 

“Dick, this is Bonnie Butler,” Nix said. “Bonnie, this is Major Dick Winters.”

“How do you do?” she said politely. 

“Nice to meet you,” Dick replied. “Bonnie Butler...like the little girl from Gone With the Wind?”

“If fairness, I had the name first,” she pointed out. “And I haven’t broken my neck falling off a horse, but I avoid them just in case.”

They both chuckled, and she refrained from smirking with satisfaction. Her need to impress him disturbed her. 

“I gotta admit I’m surprised to see you here,” Lewis said. 

“We haven’t spoken in years, Lewis, anything I’m doing should come as a surprise to you,” she returned.

Now that the initial contact was made, she had an easier time going about her job checking on Grant. It was pretty basic, just taking vitals and ensuring he was still stable. Which he was.

“Well, I’ll let you visit now,” she said.

She started to go.

“Kathy’s leaving me,” he blurted out.

She turned to face him, expression level. “Is that supposed to mean something to me, Lewis?”

It should have felt like victory. Like justice. But it only made her sad. None of it meant anything now. Her loving him, him loving Kathy, and Bonnie hating them both for it. The agony she faced because he chose her friend was only worth a few years of marriage. 

Did everything have to fall apart? Was nothing truly built to last? The war showed her that even thousand-year-old buildings would crumble under a bomb. Just as she crumbled when Lewis dropped the truth about him and Kathy. But now they were in ruins as well, so what was the point in any of it?

He shifted his weight between his feet, as he always did when he was anxious. He looked at the ground and then back at her, his eyes revealing how deeply he was stung. 

“Guess not,” he said. “I’ll see you around, Bonnie.”

She didn’t answer for so long he feared she would not at all. But she was still looking at him.

“I should hope not, Lewis,” she finally said. 

With that, she turned on her heel and walked out of the wing. Dick looked at Bonnie and then at his friend. He had never seen Lewis look so guilty. There was a deep remorse there, which indicated a great impact on his life, but Dick could not recall Lewis ever mentioning this woman. 

“What did you do to her?” Dick asked. 

Lewis cleared his throat before he answered. “Did I ever tell you how I met Kathy?”

Dick shook his head. 

“Well, Bonnie and I were dating,” Lewis began. “Kathy was her best friend. And, well...we fell in love. Behind Bonnie’s back. We had an affair for six months before we came clean.”

Dick blinked, taken aback. He knew Lewis was not the most ethical person in the world, but he did not expect his friend to be capable of something like that. He didn’t blame Bonnie at all for the way she spoke to Lewis. That kind of betrayal went deep because it was not just her boyfriend, but the one person she was supposed to be able to rely on when her boyfriend messed up. And then, to add insult to injury, they ended up married. Now, Dick was impressed with how Bonnie handled the news of the divorce. She had every right to laugh in his face. And she didn’t.

“Did you apologize?” Dick asked. 

“Oh, only about a thousand times,” Lewis replied. “And even after some time went by, Kathy and I tried to reach out again, but she wanted nothing to do with us. And we didn’t blame her, of course, but it still hurt.”

A beat passed. Lewis watched the door where Bonnie disappeared and wondered now if his split from Kathy was his punishment for what he did to her. That he and Kathy - because they started as a transgression - were perhaps doomed to fail. 

“C’mon, Nix,” Dick said. “Let’s go get something to eat.”

“Or dink,” Lewis returned. 

They left the hospital, but he found himself wishing he could find her again. Explain some more. But he knew better.

The following morning, Bonnie went to change an IV for a young corporal who had drunkenly jumped from a fourth story window and broken his leg. Many of the injuries she treated these days were caused by the jubilance of VE-Day, and she couldn’t say she blamed them, but she did wish they would be more careful. 

“Thanks, Nurse Butler,” the corporal said. 

“I’m just doing my job,” she replied gently. “This’ll only take a moment.”

She reached for the bag, when she suddenly heard a dreaded voice from behind her. 

“Careful with those, they can get messy,” Lewis said. 

She whipped around. 

“I’m sorry, don’t I first open my eyes and realize it’s a new day?” she asked sarcastically.

“I didn’t -”

“What is this magic bag in front of me?!” she exclaimed, holding the IV bag out with taunting wonder. 

“Look -”

“I’ve done this before,” she said sharply, becoming serious again and facing the patient, who was snickering.

“I know that,” he said.

“Then stop telling me what to do,” she retorted.

“I was joking,” he said calmly. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be,” she shot back, with a bitterness that told him she meant more than just the joke.

He did not speak again until after the IV was replaced. When she finished, she ignored Lewis and began walking away. 

“Bonnie, wait, I think we should talk about things,” he said, trailing behind her. 

“I disagree,” she replied. “Besides, I’m working.”

“When is your shift over?” 

“You know I’m not going to tell you that.”

“Please -”

She halted and whirled around. He skidded to a stop a few feet away. 

“What is it you’re so desperate to tell me?” she demanded. “That you’re sorry? Because I’ve heard that before, Lewis, and I don’t care.”

“You really can’t forgive me?” he asked. “After all this time?”

She wondered that herself often enough. But there was too much. Not only the betrayal, but the effects of it. How could she forgive him for the worthless way she felt? How could she forgive him for her now ingrained lack of trust? How could she forgive him for the nights she spent crying on the kitchen floor, convinced that this was what love felt like? 

His eyes clung to her gaze, and she endured a long moment of weakness where she felt totally incapable of turning away from him. But she knew she could now because she had done it before. 

“No,” she said, surprised by the croak in her voice and the lump in her throat. 

She didn’t wait for him to answer. She walked away, and thankfully, he didn’t follow. 

Another day passed. Lewis did not return to the hospital, and Bonnie was relieved. She worked the rest of her shift in peace. The only disturbance was a violent thunderstorm, which rumbled in the sky and pelted rain down against the roof all day.

When her shift concluded, it was still raining. Unwilling to get drenched, she went to the doctor’s lounge, which nurses frequented as well, for a drink. She had the next day off, so she figured she could afford to get a little tipsy. Her true goal was to get Lewis Nixon off her mind, but as she walked in, she met a dismal sight. There he sat at the bar, nursing a whiskey, looking sadly at a letter. 

She looked at the heavens to address God directly.

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you?”

She waited a moment, but received no reply. So with a sigh, she went over to the bar and took the stool beside Lewis. 

“You know, if you’re not medical personnel, you’re not really supposed to be in here,” she said.

He looked at her. “Are you speaking to me now?”

“I never said we can’t speak in general,” she said. “Just not about our past.”

“I see,” he returned. “Well, to address your earlier statement, this is the only place they have Vat 69 in all of Europe apparently.”

“You’re still drinking that nasty stuff?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.

“You’re not?”

She shook her head. “No, I’ve moved on.”

With that, she ordered a gin and tonic. They waited in silence as the bartender prepared it. The soft clink of ice and pop of the gin bottle might as well have been explosions. There were no other patrons to fill up the space. 

“So, are we gonna catch up?” he wondered. “Like old friends?”

“I don’t think we were ever really friends,” she replied. “If we were, you wouldn’t have done what you did.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he warned jokingly. “That is forbidden territory.”

“Do you wanna talk or do you wanna fuck around?” she retorted. 

“If we’re not gonna address the elephant in the room, I’d argue that all we’re doing is fucking around,” he said. 

She couldn’t help but chuckle at that. As she relaxed into her chair and took a sip of her drink, memories of them laughing together swam before her. Those tidbits of happiness that she locked away so that they couldn’t hurt her anymore. Back when she thought of him as her whole world. 

“Alright, let’s fuck around,” she said. 

She let him go first. He talked about his son, then about joining the Airborne, about meeting Dick Winters, and he even admitted that he never fired a shot in combat. She told him about nursing school, enlisting, and a bit about her journey through Europe. It was all very surface level and appropriate. But it wasn’t them. 

“Would I be trespassing if I asked about your parents?” he wondered after their third round.

She considered it as she sipped her fourth cocktail. They grew up together, so she supposed it was fair. 

“Fine,” she said. “But it might depress you. Dad passed away, and Mom really hasn’t been the same since.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “They were always nice to me. Even after…”

She nodded, turning her glass on the counter, keeping her watering eyes focused on it. As her mother deteriorated, she kept asking where “that angel Lewis” was. Mrs. Butler doted on Lewis Nixon as if he were her own son. And Bonnie’s was not the only heart broken when everything happened. But now Mrs. Butler was stuck in a time before that, and Bonnie never had the heart to remind her that things were different now. 

“She asks about you,” Bonnie blurted out. “Mom does.”

“And what do you say?” he asked. 

“I tell her you’re coming any day now,” she said. “Of course she doesn’t know the difference. She can’t remember anything.”

He half smiled. “Well, I better go see her so I don’t make a liar out of you.”

She half smiled back. “That’d mean a lot to her.” 

She paused a beat while a doctor and another nurse filed in and took up two stools just a few seats away from her and Lewis. The other two were obviously romantic - their knees touched, their hands lingered close to each other, and they hardly looked at the bartender as they ordered. They were so wrapped up in each other. Bonnie felt the distance between her and Lewis was cavernous in comparison. She took a dink.  

“Um, how are your folks? Feeling alright?” she asked after swallowing.

“Oh, they’re the same as ever,” he said. “A little cold, a little rich. They’re gonna lose it when I tell them about the divorce.”

“You’re a grown man,” she reminded him. “What could they do?”

“You act like growing up means your parents can’t be obnoxious,” he said. “They can and they will.”

She bit her lip with hesitation. “Can I ask you something? It might be crossing a line.”

“Honey, I’m on my fifth whiskey, you can ask me whatever you want,” he assured her, knocking back the last gulp in his glass.

“Why can’t it work between you and Kath - your wife?” she asked. 

She couldn’t bring herself to say the name. Calling her “Kathy” made her who Kathy was. Bonnie’s former best friend who betrayed her in the worst way possible. Calling her “his wife” reduced her to an abstract. She could be anyone in theory. 

“She met someone else,” he answered. “Ironically enough.”

The air around them felt thick again. 

“You can laugh,” he said. “It must feel like poetic justice or something to you.”

She shook her head. “The last thing I feel like doing is laughing. That kind of hurt is not something I would wish on anyone, not even you.”

“It feels like you’re supporting me, but just barely,” he joked. 

She offered a smile. “I’m sorry, Lew. Really, I am.”

“Thanks,” he said. “But how on Earth are you so goddamn understanding?”

Her brow furrowed. “What? I’m not being understanding. I still think you’re rude for what you did.”

He blinked. “Rude?!”

“Yes, rude!” she cried. “You wanna cheat on me? That’s fine! You wanna marry that girl and get her pregnant? Fine! But to make it my best friend? That’s just rude!”

He laughed. An old, buried admiration for his smile crept up into her heart - right along the very cracks he had created and she had forced back together, never fully repairing the damage. She looked away, only to see the other couple was kissing now, and Bonnie had to turn her back to them.

“Well, I apologize for my rudeness,” he said.

“Based on the situation, I’m sure it won’t happen again,” she replied. 

“Ouch,” he said. “But well deserved on my part.”

“I’ll say,” she agreed. “But...can I ask you one more thing?”

“We have already crossed way beyond the line, go ahead,” he said.

“If you two felt that way about each other,” she began. “Why didn’t you just tell me? If you had been honest, I would have told you I’d be fine. I would never have stood in the way of your happiness. The lie hurt me more than the blow to my ego.”

He took a drink of his fresh glass of whiskey and swished it in his mouth briefly before swallowing - a tactic she was familiar with. He was constructing a careful answer.

“First of all, in fairness to us, we had no way of knowing that,” he said. “Second of all, and perhaps worst of all, we...we didn’t want to hurt you.”

“But don’t you see how it’s worse that you -”

“Of course,” he cut across her. “Of course we see how what we did was worse. We were young and stupid and afraid. And look where we are now.”

At that, they both finished their drinks. She bounced her foot a moment as what she was about to say bubbled up. Could she really say it? Did she mean it? She glanced at his face and got her answer. 

“Okay,” she said. “I’m ready.”

“To what?” he asked. “I hope it’s to tell those two to get a room.”

He nodded down the bar at the doctor and nurse. Their drinks remained untouched, but the same could not be said for their legs or their backsides. Bonnie snorted.

“C’mon, give them a break,” she said. “You remember what it was like when it was new.”

“Oh, yeah,” he said fondly. “Remember that time at Joan Watson’s party, when you and I went upstairs and -”

She squeaked to cut him off and her face went beet red. A fleeting memory of his hands on a lot more than her legs made her squirm in her seat. She cleared her throat. 

“As I was saying,” she said firmly. 

“Right, sorry,” he said through a chuckle. “What is it you’re ready for?”

“To forgive you,” she told him. “We’re both different people now, aren’t we?”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah, I’d say that’s true.”

He sat up a little straighter, appearing lighter. He pursed his lips too, fighting the grin that was spreading across his face.

“Wanna get out of here?” she suggested. 

“I’m still enjoying my whiskey,” he said. 

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough whiskey for - I dunno - a lifetime?”

“Not my lifetime.”

She rolled her eyes. He met her gaze and smirked. Then, he got to his feet, and offered her his hand. She took it, and they touched for the first time since what they each thought was to be the last time. Who could have imagined they would find each other again in Austria? So far from home and everything they knew together? And yet, through clasped hands, they felt that home was not so far away after all.

He helped her off the stool, they paid, and then walked outside together. The clouds had disappeared and the sun was beating down a fresh, fragrant warmth. The air was clear. The storm had passed. 

[boogiewrites]

No.9: The Body

Chapter Two

Characters: Diego Hargreeves & OFC Eve Corpuz

Summary: Eve, once a rebellious runaway had turned her life around through the help of others to now be a doctor. She tries to return the favor these days. When a mysterious man keeps popping up in her life, what will her natural talent for healing become when it finally meets someone else with abilities like hers? Diego begins to suspect there’s something amiss with the doctor that’s been helping him...

Warnings/Tags: Injury/Blood/Medical. Nothing too graphic. Banter. Some KLAUS!

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT! If you’d like added to the tags, just let me know. This is a multi-chapter fic.

Another evening to herself, as per usual, this time she’d taken the initiative to reheat her leftovers instead of stuffing them cold into her face in front of the fridge. With headphones in, she bobbed, moving loosely around the kitchen without a care. This is probably why the sudden appearance of the same stranger, if you could even call him that at this point, threw her entirely off track as she launched the spatula in her hand to his bent figure, holding himself up on her kitchen counter.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Eve yells and she stumbles back against the opposite counter, headphone dangling around her neck as she fumbles blindly into a nearby drawer for a knife out of panic, “WHY ARE YOU IN MY APARTMENT? WAIT...HOW?”

“Ow.” is his response as his nose streams a tiny bit of blood into his facial hair.

“Sorry but I'll do it again if you try anything!”

“It’s ME!” he says clearly showing his face and motioning up and down to himself.

“That’s a little vague don’t you think?” she says back loudly, eyes still clearly wild.

“Sorry I- just needed help. I’m not gonna hurt you. I...kinda can’t right now.” he groans and she sees the blood covering most of his stomach now.

“Oh, shit, dude why didn’t you go to the hospital?”

“Well, you weren’t there were you?”

“Fuck’s sake,” she says holding her hand to her chest to feel her heart racing as she tried to calm down. She takes a deep breath, switching off the stovetop as she approached him. “You couldn’t have knocked?”

“Not really my thing…:”

“Neither is common sense it seems,” she mumbles and he grunts as she tries to examine him. “How did you know where I live?” she narrows her eyes at him. He was covered in sweat and clearly in a lot of pain from his pale face.

“Followed you.”

“Why were you following me?”

“You're the only real doctor I can trust. I needed your help didn’t I?” he sighs and slouches again, raising his shirt up to show multiple chunks missing.

“You need help alright. Shit…” she says moving to find her gloves in a cabinet. “Go...get in the bathtub, I’ll treat you there. Let me grab you some clothes.”

Only a nod and grunt in response as he headed into the bathroom.

She hands a pair of sweats and an old t-shirt that’ll easily fit him into the bathroom. “Leave your shirt off.” she says as she grabs her supply bag.

“I get that a lot.”

She lets a smile show as the door blocks their view of each other. He was a smart ass even in the middle of pain. She could relate to that. “I’m sure you do. Now let me know when I can come in.” A grunt serves as an answer and she enters, moving to help him and make as small of a mess as possible. An understanding of quiet rests between them as she works.

“NNGH--” he groans and bares his teeth as she digs to pull a slug out of his side. The damage was worse than she thought once she got closer. He hears the clatter of bullet pieces hit the metal bowl she has on the toilet next to the tub.

“Okay, Champ. You’re taking the pain well, the pills will kick in in a little bit.” She says sympathetically.

“You’re... good at this y’know.” he gives her a nod as she sews him up, a gentle touch despite being stabbed with a needle repeatedly.

“I’d hope so.” she lets out a huff of a laugh. “Thanks.” she offers up in politeness as they settle into a comfortable back and forth, the tension from before now gone as she was focused. AS she finished, she says, “I was wondering…?”

“Mmm?”

“Whats the bat cave-like? Does Bruce let you play with the toys?”

“Ha.” he gives in a deadpan delivery. “Very funny.” sarcastic heavy as always in their tone, but he actually meant it.

“Alright. That’s got you sewed up. This could’ve gone south really fast. Y’know.”  she says with more concern in her voice. “Since I keep saving you...can I know your name now? In case you kill me,  at least my ghost can try to solve the crime from behind grave. That  seems like a pretty cool afterlife.”

“Yeah, I’d watch that show.” He gives a grimace that was mean to be a smile. “I’m not gonna kill you,” he says defensively. “...M’Diego.” he sighs outs as she helps him stand. He already felt... better somehow. Maybe it was the pills.

“Oh, a little crime fighter like those kids in the 90’s huh?”

“Yeah..” he groans and averts his eyes.

“Sorry.” she chuckles. “You’re the only Diego I’ve ever met. Bad comparison?” she offers, nos wiping his face off with a cool cloth and he’s caught off guard by her closeness in his low blood leveled state.

“Nah he’s… okay, I guess,” he mumbles.

“I’ll clean this up, you go chill on the couch and I’ll be there in a second okay?”

“Kay.” He weakly answers. As soon as she turns on the showerhead to wash out the blood, he stumbles as he tries to support himself and she catches him.

“You are hurt bad aren’t you?” She says with real concern in her eyes and she helps him to the couch despite his weak protests to the contrary.  “Here.” she says helping him with his shirt then laying a blanket around his shoulders. “So...Diego…” she says, hands on her hips. “Tell me…” she pauses as he settles. “...do you like Chinese food?”

“Not where I thought you were going with that…”

“Well do you? You wanna eat?” she asks again moving into the kitchen.

“Weirdly, yeah.” he answers, eyes following her as she moved to go back to her former task of reheating food.

“This will help you deal with those pain pills easier. Soak it up a bit, instead of a straight shot of it.” she continues to feel him staring into her back as she moves around.

“Uh...thanks,” he says softly as she sits next to him on the couch.

“I’ll bill you later.”

He gives a tired smile and resituates to eat.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood. I would keep you for observation if we were at the hospital.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Gunshots are no joke. You’re lucky it didn’t nick your intestines.”

“That’s me... lucky.”

“Seems so…” she mumbles before pushing more noodles in her mouth. She watches him eat, good appetite for just getting shot, that was for sure.

“Not bad.” he says with a mouthful and a glassy look in his eyes that makes her chuckle.

“Help yourself if you want more. I have to get some sleep.” she stands and takes her plate with her.

“Oh, okay..well..uh...thanks..again.”

“Nah, nah, champ.” she says, a single hand keeping him on the couch.”You’re staying here. Because I don’t want you dying out there, alright?”

“I actually feel pretty g-”

“It’s the medication talking, you need to rest. But know...There are no weapons in this room but I have a gun in my bedroom and if you try anything I will not hesitate to use it.”

“Yes ma’am.” he nods and gives an almost cocky smile.

“Good.” she nods. ���I have work and I’ll be up around 3, there are blankets and pillows all over in here, you’ll be able to get comfortable, just try not to bleed all over the couch if you can help it.”

“I’ll do my best... and if I think I’m dying?”

“Try to let me know so you don’t ruin the furniture please.”

He grins and gives an understanding nod. “I think I'll be fine.” he says through a yawn.

“Time’ll tell.” She stands one the doorway to her bedroom. “Night Diego. Don’t make me regret my hospitality.”

“I haven’t yet have I?”

“Jury’s still out. Get some rest.”

He waves a dismissive hand to her as he lays down on the couch. He seriously did feel better. Better than he should, he thought. But he was tired, and quickly that became his main focus. --------------

A tired but becoming more alert by the second Eve wafting her tea in front of Diego’s sleeping face. He looked almost childish despite the heavy 5 o clock shadow. His strong cheek and jaw gave an almost round appearance to his face. The smoosh of his cheek definitely didn’t hurt him looking less threatening.

“Diego.” She whispers as he begins to twitch. “Tea?”

“What’s..” he begins and quickly stops, looking around the room. “Oh. Uh, yeah.” He clears his throat and without much pain dramatization, he sat up and rubbed his face, taking the mug.

She sits with her mug clasped between her hands, on the other end of the couch

“This...what is this? It’s not good.”

She chuckles and looks his way.” It’s black breakfast tea. It has a little caffeine. Thought you could use it.”

He nods and looks into the mug, brow low but she couldn’t tell if it was from sleep or thinking.

“I’m gonna be leaving soon. If you don’t feel up to it, you don’t have to go. Since you can clearly break-in I figure there’s no point in telling you you have to leave.” She sips. “But I would request you don’t steal my stuff.”

“I’m not gonna steal anything.” he sleepily insists.

“I appreciate it.”  They sit as she enjoys her tea and the low noise from outside, the crossing of people just going to bed late, and others riding early are all that fills the quiet apartment.

“You’re a Doctor…”

“Uh huh.” She looks his way a bit confused at the sudden obvious statement

“You don’t act like any doctor I’ve known before. They’re usually dicks.”

“I try hard not to be a dick. So I’ll take that as a compliment”

“I mean, it was I guess. But you’re smart right? You gotta be to know all the...doctor stuff right?”

“Yes, college, med school, internships, residencies...did it all. I like to entertain the idea that I’m smart, yeah.”

“But...you’re being like… really, nice.” There's a Pause as she sees this as a rhetorical statement. “I mean you lied to the cops to help me.” He grins a bit and looks her way, breaking his thoughtful stare into nothing. “Why?”

She considers it a moment, looks twitching as she takes another drink. “I think...you remind me of me.” She answers and it’s one he didn’t expect. “I’ve been… maybe not in the same circumstances as you but I’ve at least been through some of the same consequences you have it seems. I’ve been injured and on the run. I would’ve really liked it if someone had given me the benefit of the doubt back then. So... I try to believe the best in people because that’s what I needed too.” It was an honest and heartfelt answer.

“You’ve been shot?”

“Shot AT.”

“But stabbed?”

“Stabbed? Yes.”

“What were you into? Tattoos make me think gang but none are from any I know.”

“I had some gang-related ones but I was never really, IN one ya know? I’ve got them covered up. It’s been a while since I’ve been that girl.”

“Seems like you’re still her to me.”

“How's that?”

“Wanted criminal hiding out and getting patched up in your apartment. You’re an accessory at least. Lying to the cops. Seems like you’re still her.” He picks at her but she doesn’t feel like he’s being judgemental. Not that he had the right to be.

“Yeah or maybe I’m just bad at making good decisions. Book sense and no common sense.”

“Nah. You’re plenty smart.”

“Thanks.” A calm smile is Shared briefly before they go back to their tea.  “Can I ask you personal questions now?” She means his way slightly.

“Shoot.”

“What do you do that keeps you getting hurt?”

“That is personal.”

“Well if you’ve done it this time and you’ve been in my ER twice, chances are you’re going to be interrupting my evening again, Hmm?”

“You are smart.”

“So for not just my safety, but also so I can effectively deny and deflect for either of us, can I know? I’m also plain old nosey at this point.”

“That’s… you’ve got a fair point.” He shrugs. “I’m a… private eye. Investigator.”

“I’ve not had one PI come in with injuries like yours.”

“Maybe I’m just a really good one and they aren’t.”

This makes her let out a laugh. “How could I have not considered that?” She rolls her eyes. “Are you a hitman? Because you dress like one. That or one hood away from a gimp.”

“Hey. My leather is NICE alright? Functional, stylish. Let’s people know what I’m about.”

“Wouldn’t a PI want to blend in?”

“Not one like me.”

“So you’re… self-employed? I don’t want to be involved in any government level bullshit alright?”

“Yeah people come to me when they need things… looked into.”

“You really sound like a hitman.”

“A vigilante. I’m the good guy. I help people with bad guys. Kay? I don’t go out looking to kill people.”

“They're certainly looking to kill you though.” She offers with an upturned hand as she rises.

“Yeah, the industry Christmas parties are real awkward.”

“Is the game always “dirty Santa” every year?”

He gives a small huff of amusement her way. “Yeah, sure.”

“So Diego… Let’s see those bandages.” She claps her hands.

“You could just ask for me to take off my shirt you don’t have to make excuses.” He smirks.

She ignores him as she’s getting the feeling this is just part of his personality. “There’s no blood somehow so don’t touch them 'til tonight okay? Don’t get them wet. Re bandage after a shower okay? You healed up from last time nice so you clearly know how to handle aftercare for wounds.”

“Oh yeah. I’m a professional.”

“For both of our sakes, I hope so.” She tugs his shirt back into place.

—

After she left, Diego was left alone and his curiosity got the better of him. Not liked he tried to fight the urge to go through Eve’s stuff in her absence, old habits die hard. —------- With his bloody clothes in tow, Diego makes his way to the apartment over the gym he and Luther now owned together. He’d bought out his old haunt, they met with branding people Allison suggested and he’d hated it all. He just wanted a place to train. Luther was thinking more business and long term, stability. Things Diego didn’t spend much time considering.

“Why are you in my apartment?” He barks out as Klaus sits with his feet up on Diego’s coffee table.

“I could ask you why you WERENT in your apartment.” He looks him over, piecing the story together. “You didn’t come back after a job, but you don’t look hurt, and you’re wearing...not your own clothes. But definitely no sex because you don’t have that puppy look in your eyes.”

“HEY! Stop acting like you know everything...and I don’t look like a puppy.”

“Yeah, that’s a definite no on the one-night stand option.”

He begins to throw Eve’s unisex clothing items off as he heads towards the shower.

“Diego? Have you ever done a… Fun Run for children’s charity before?”

“What the-? No, why?”

“Then why does your shirt claim otherwise?” Klaus holds up the old participation shirt Diego had been wearing.

“Why do you have to be so goddamn nosey. Why are you even here?”

“Five wanted a meeting tonight.”

“Ugh! Why?”

“Oh, you know him...probably something apocalyptic.”

“We agreed to no jokes about that. I get fuckin….it bothers me, man.”

“Alright, I don’t know why. He’s been very up his own ass the past few days.”

“When is he not?”

“Some people like it up the ass Diego. Don’t knock it til you’ve tried it.”

“Do you ever shut up?”

“I believe I’ve been told no but I couldn’t really hear them over my talking.”

“What do you WANT?”

“To know where you were.”

“I was busy.” he flatly answers.

“And with what,  pray tell?”

“The takedown went sideways. I got shot. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Look at that almost.. 2 and a half pack there.” Klaus points to Diego’s torso with fresh pink scars he assumed were far older and that his brother was, once again, is full of shit. “You seem to be doing just fine now.”

“Yeah...that’s kinda why I was gone.” Diego lets his hands run over the healed wounds on his stomach.

“Where’d you even get shot? I don’t see anything but reminders of your shortcomings.” He tickles at a scar on Diego’s side.

“Quit it.” He slaps Klaus’ hands away. “I got shot last night. Here. Like I said, and you would’ve heard that if you were listening.”

“I think someone got rufied and they’re too scared to admit it. It happens to the best of us b-“

“No. I know what I’m talking about! It was here. Now it’s healed.”

Klaus blinks thoughtfully at the spot his brother is furiously pointing to. “Where the fuck is it then?” he asks with a hand on his hip.

“There’s this doctor-”

“Pretty good fuckin’ doctor!”

“Right?! It’s happened twice now! I didn’t know if I was losin’ it or what the first time. But this healed even faster this time.”

“So we talkin’...aliens? Medical science experiments on the public?”

“That’s where I went to first-” he says seriously and Klaus rolls his eyes. “But she’s-”

“Oh SHE?”  he asks rhetorically in surprise. “Nice. Girl power." he holds up an ignored fist of solidarity.

Diego continues as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “I’ve checked her out man-”

“Bet ya have…” Klaus mutters.

“...she’s... normal. I can’t find shit on her.”

“Well as normal as having healing powers goes…”

Diego’s eyes shoot wide to his brothers whose body language of casual contemplation is opposite of Deigo’s.

“You think she..?”

“At this point, why the fuck not? I mean with…” he clears his throat as the delicate subject of Lila comes up. “She who will not be named... she had them... we didn’t know about her. Stranger things have happened.”

“Nah she’s not..” he begins but Klaus quickly sees the wheels turning in his brother's darting eyes.

“Is she not?” he offers with squinted eyes. “I mean if you’d done your detective work as well as you say you have-”

“I HAVE!”

“Then it seems as if it’s one of the more plausible options out of the bunch, hmmm?”

Diego says nothing but considers the advice. “I need to find out...but how.” a bit of an overdramatic delivery in Klaus’s opinion of the cliche line, but he answered with his usual cautiously optimistic tone when he gave this particular sibling advice. He was such a sensitive boy, after all, under all that leather.

“I have this wild idea... now here me out... but what if you...ya with me still? Good. Now, what if you… just ask her.” he delivers with a swing of his hand.

“Oh, hey!” Diego mocks the plan. “Yeah, do you happen to have superpowers?” he stops his mocking tone. “Because that would go SO well.”

“Ya either do somethin’ or ya don’t Diego. I’m overdue for a good sweat and this vibe you’re bringing in my space-”

“This is MY apartment!” he shouts.

“..my personal, space, is far too uptight for my brand right now so I’m gonna leave.”

“Good! That's what I’ve wanted this whole time. Thank you!”

“No problem, babe. You know I’d do anything for you, right?” he leans against the door frame with batting eyes only to add a bit more red onto the annoyed man’s face.

Diego reaches for the nearest object, “GetOutYouLittle-UNG!” he grunts as he throws it at Klaus’ head it’s caught with the door as he rushed it shut.

@jaegeeeeer​ @s-h-e-w-r-i-t-e-s​

[67midnightwriter]

Bygone: Teach Me

A/N: This was originally intended for @thoughtslikeaminefield​ for her birthday before the world exploded. It was intended to be a quick one shot, but as I was writing I fell in love with Dean, Leia, and Cas’ relationship, so this will end up being a snapshot series. It won’t be written in order, but eventually it will all be written lol. Thanks to @mskathywriteswords​ for the deep beta!

Dean x OFC x Cas no destiel

Warning: feels and squirting

Smut

W/C: 4,269

There are many things Dean Winchester is good at: drawing out both pleasure and pain, locating both good drink and good food no matter where you plop him down, shrugging off compliments he’ll never believe he really deserves, and battling demons, of both the metaphorical and physical varieties. These are the things he (mostly) prides himself on, the base stones with which he builds the foundation of his character. Good or bad, they’re solid and steady through the storm of time. 

He won’t admit it, but among the other qualities lays the fact that he is a good teacher. One might even venture to say that he is an excellent teacher, with seemingly endless pools of kind patience, an uncanny ability to know how to reach even the most challenging and troubled of students, and oceans of knowledge from which to quench the thirst of the curious. It’s his unintentional personal oversight of this key flagstone that has birthed the confusion knotting his forehead currently. 

“Look Cas, I’m honored, really, I am...” Dean’s hand runs through his hair and then down his face, a nervous habit he’s picked up over the years, though he’s not sure where or when. He takes a deep breath before gathering the courage to continue. “But when I told you some things are better learned from watching, this...” He gestures to the room, unable to articulate the words he needs, unsure if any are actually needed, “is not what I meant.”

“I need you to teach me.” 

Dean tries to keep his face blank, but it has a habit of thinking out loud. His eyes grow wide, his eyebrows fly high, and his bottom lip ends up pinched between his teeth to hold in a startled laugh. He steadies himself with a deep breath, slowly letting it out of his nose while he counts to ten.

“Cas, man, it’s pretty self explanatory…”

Leia, currently lying back on the bed she shares with Cas, her honey eyes taking in the awkward exchange between Dean and his best friend. Her deep red hair cascaded over her shoulders like a mane of fire, as she chortled over Castiel’s unamused huff and eyeroll. 

“Dean, I’ve been watching humans mate and reproduce since before they were bipedal. I understand and am perfectly capable of bringing Leia pleasure through standard sexual intercourse.”

Dean suppresses a wince over Cas’s blunt wording; even years of friendship can’t take away the resounding feeling as though he’s talking about sex with a parent. 

If he’s seen so much, shouldn’t he be teaching me?

The unwelcome thought crosses his mind, paired with an image of Cas in a full bodied latex suit, and he physically shakes it away.

“Then I don’t understand why I’m here.”

“Cas, I think you’d better just show Dean. It’ll be easier that way.”

Castiel frowns as he considers this, nodding as he settles on a decision. “I suppose you’re correct. Dean, may I?”

Dean closes his eyes to think, rubbing at his hairline like it will help ease his thoughts. He realizes the confusion is going to eat at him until he barges back in and confronts them anyways, and decides that he’d rather skip the forty minutes of pacing and get straight to the point. He still has a list of things to get done today, one that leaves little room for such distractions. “I guess. Let’s get this over with Feathers, I’ve got guns to clean.”

Cas’ lips thin at Dean’s use of the nickname, but he moves past without comment. “You might feel mildly disoriented.” He presses two fingers to each of Dean’s temples, and the world around Dean shimmers, causing his stomach to roll. His eyes close against the sensation, and it vanishes before he can even be sure he really felt it to begin with. 

Dean opens his eyes and finds himself sucked into one of his favorite memories; quite literally. His lips are sealed around Leia’s clit as she writhes underneath him, her cunt clenching around his fingers as she cums. He doesn’t stop, even when she tries to pull away. Instead, he shifts the arm not currently three fingers deep, and pins her hips in place. She breaks from panting to whine his name, high and desperate, but he knows she’s been holding out on him. Her thighs squeeze, one on top of one shoulder, one underneath the other, and he replaces his mouth with his thumb so he can turn and bite the thigh against his ear. He’s rewarded with a sharp, ragged gasp, his thumb circling relentlessly as his fingers push against her g-spot. Her shoulders lift part way off the bed and for a moment she looks like a marionette, her eyes open but unseeing, her mouth hanging slack. He can feel her whole body tensing around him, and he can’t help but grin. 

“Come on, Honey, let go for me,” he drawls, his accent thick and voice ragged. 

He can feel her let go with his finger tips, and his eyes study her face as his skin tingles in a mix of awe, pride, and lust. Castiel chooses that moment to rip him back into the present, and he uses the guise of disorientation to close his eyes and steady his beating heart. His fingers twitch at his side with the urge to wipe phantom moisture off on his jeans, and his cock stirs in his jeans. He rattles off the safety features of the newest Dodge minivan in his head, willing an awkward erection away. 

Traction control, tire pressure monitoring, rear child safety locks.

Since the universe decides against opening a black hole directly beneath his feet, Dean opens his eyes. He looks first at Leia, her warm eyes filled with concern, before turning to meet Cas’ cool blue gaze. 

“Will you teach me?”

“Cas...” Dean runs his hand across his face, his eyes flicking between his friends. “I don’t know. Even if I could, I’m not sure how I would.” 

“I could always take the information straight from the source.” Castiel, Dean was sure, was immune to any and all awkwardness. 

“Castiel! I told you that if Dean didn’t want to help, you would let him go, without any brain spelunking.”

“If you would let me use my grace-”

“You can use your grace to- nevermind. I don’t want to know.” Leia smirks and shoots Dean a wink, and he shudders mentally.

Dean sighs again, his mind battling with its southern counterpart, and blessedly Castiel and Leia stay silent. He gazes at the angel before him, thinking of all the times he’s been saved by his hand, how Castiel has rarely ever asked him for anything but trust. He thinks of Leia, who has been by his side for the better part of 20 years, spent the prime of her life trying to keep his ass alive, and how much she deserves someone who could give her all the things he can’t (or in this case, all the things he can) do. She’s happy with Cas. Cas wants to give her everything she could want. Dean refuses to think about where else Cas would turn for advice, and realizes the decision has been made. 

“Alright. If everyone is okay with this...” Dean gestures to the room again, still unsure there are appropriate words to describe the situation. “I’ll help you.” Leia smiles softly at him, relief washes over Castiel’s face. Dean swallows hard, and thinks there might be a rock settled in his stomach. “How…?”

“Some things are best learned by watching.” 

Of course that would be the one piece of advice Castiel would latch on to. 

“Right. Okay. Well…”

Attuned to his emotions after so many years living beside him, Leia gets up from the bed and stands between him and Castiel. Headstrong, with no room for nonsense, she grasps the open sides of his flannel, pulls him flush against her body, and presses her lips to his. 

It’s been eleven years since they shared a kiss, but it seems as though no one informed their mouths. They fit together the same, and Dean finds himself running his hands up her arms, across her back, pulling her closer, one hand traveling up to the back of her head. She relaxes against him, and it would be so easy for Dean to pretend Castiel isn’t there, to believe that they never fell apart, to find safety and solace in her touch once more, to break down the walls he spent so long building that he can no longer remember if they’re for her sake or his. 

He stiffens, but Leia already knows. She kisses her way across his jaw on up to his earlobe, nibbling softly just behind the curve. She pulls his earlobe with her teeth, before speaking in a heavy low voice. 

“It’s okay, Dean. I want this. Please.” She breathes the last word. Dean wonders briefly if he imagined it, before his resolve crumbles. 

Dean nods, not trusting himself to speak. Leia slips his shirt from his shoulders, and he lets it fall to his feet. He stops thinking, instinct taking over. Her shirt joins his, and he grins when he finds she’s decided to forgo a bra. He backs her on to the bed, his lips trailing hot against her skin as he makes his way up to meet her lips. Castiel shifts behind him, the rustling of his trench coat as he places it on the back of the chair reminding Dean that he’s doing this for a reason, not just living out fantasies. Dean gives control back to his brain, and slows the urgency of his kisses while wondering how to give Castiel a step by step guide on how to make his girlfriend squirt.

“The first-“ Dean’s voice is too low, too thick with lust, so he clears his throat and attempts to continue. “You gotta start-“ Leia stops his stuttering with a kiss. 

“This isn’t going to work if you spend the entire time stumbling over a play by play like it’s your first day on ESPN.”

Dean hangs his head in defeat, the tips of his hair brushing against Leia’s nude chest as it rises. An apology is clawing its way out when Castiel speaks from a spot behind him. 

“Just pray to me.”

Dean turns to meet the cool blue gaze over his right shoulder, and Cas nods at whatever emotions are swirling over his own eyes. Dean finds no doubt in Cas’, no uncertainty, just oceans of trust with swells of excitement that Dean is still sure he doesn’t deserve. He turns his attention back to Leia, who turns a similar trusting, warm gaze on him. She smiles, lips puffy and face relaxed in a nostalgic lust. 

“Okay?” Her voice is sweet, safe, and Dean smiles as the rock in his stomach cracks. 

“Yeah. Okay.”

Dean leans in for a deep kiss, invading her mouth with an expert tongue before making his way down her neck. He prays as he goes along, explaining every touch to Castiel. Leia moans beneath him, leaning in to his touch as he strips her, blunt nails coaxing goosebumps to her skin. He trails kisses and bites down her body, the thumb of his right hand brushing over her nipple, his left resting on her hip as he settles between her thighs. She feels hot and and solid beneath him, and the way she’s relaxed, honey eyes half lidded and full of lust, calms him. Dean bites the inside of her thigh, soothes it with a kiss, and then the absurdness of what they’re doing hits him.

He nearly laughs. It creeps up his throat from deep inside him, threatening to break this tender moment, and he’s not sure that he can hold it in. 

If anyone would have told me, at any point in time, that I would be praying to an angel while demonstrating how to make his girlfriend squirt-

Leia’s hands in his hair bring him back from the edge of hysterics. She pulls, hard enough to move his head, and he twists her nipple in retaliation. She hisses, arching, and she chuckles.

“Focus, Cowboy.”

Dean grins and gets to work. He tightens his grip on her hip, uses his tongue until she’s keening for more, pulling his face closer and fighting against his hold to grind against him. He squeezes her nipple once more before he adjusts himself, latching on to her clit and thrusting the two middle fingers on his left hand in her sodden cunt. He can feel her clenching desperately already, and within a few moves of his fingers she’s cumming.

Once the first one is out of the way, the main key is to keep going, Cas. No matter what she says, or if she tries to pull away, keep going.

Her low pitched guttural groan fills the room, and her thighs clench around his head. He can’t help but chuckle, letting her hip go long enough to force his left arm between her thigh and his ear, pressing the length of his forearm down across her hips and grabbing tight to her right. He adjusts, filling the emptiness where his left hand had been with his right, kissing and nipping at her thigh while rubbing her clit in rough circles with the pad of his thumb. She fidgets, trying to pull away from the overstimulation, desperate whimpers falling sweetly on the air, her body trembling around him. She begins to buck, fighting to pull away, and he can sense Cas stiffen behind him. 

This is where you make your mistake. She’s so close Cas, you can feel her tightening and trying to fight it, but if you really want to make her happy you’ve got to push her into it. Rub her gspot harder, make sure you never let up on her clit, and tell her what you want. She loves that.

“Come on Honey,” Dean purrs, his voice deep and heavy with lust, his accent dripping from his words. “Let go for me.” 

Present mirrors the past, and Dean is awash in deja vu.

Leia’s mouth opens, her whines cutting off to a silent scream. Dean can feel every one of her muscles clenching, her fingers gripping so hard around the bedsheets that the fabric is protesting. The pressure continues building, her shoulders coming off the bed of their own accord, turning her into a marionette of pleasure, a memory come to life. He can feel the release on the tips of his fingers, bringing a grin to his face. 

“That’s my girl.” 

Her silent scream breaks into a desperate cry as her release sprays down his arm. She gasps, falling apart from the inside out. Dean runs his hands up her body as she finally relaxes, the human version of a spring that’s been wound until it snaps. She collapses back down on the bed, her legs extending to either side as her muscles relax. Her chest heaves as she pulls in desperate gasps of air, aftershocks of pleasure still vibrating through trembling extremities. 

Dean smiles softly at her, pressing a soft kiss to her thigh before standing. His cock aches, his erection pressing uncomfortably against his jeans that seem two sizes tighter than this morning. He backs away as Castiel sheds his trenchcoat and settles on the bed, pulling Leia to his chest and murmuring praise between kisses. Dean watches as he feels jealousy blanket his shoulders. It’s her soft begging that finally gets his feet moving again, though his eyes and ears stay fixed on the couple in the bed, his heart aching for it’s happy ending. Sorry buddy, you’re going to have to settle for another long shower.

“Dean.” Her voice reaches him as his hand settles on the door handle, a tangible echo, just as sweet as it was when she was his. “I need you too.” He stops and turns, his heart rate skyrocketing, his cock twitching excitedly. “Please.” She’s always begged more with her eyes than her words, and Dean sees that old flame brought back to life, an ember fanned to raging inferno.

Every fiber of his being is singing all the praises Heaven doesn’t deserve, but still he hesitates.

“It’s okay, Dean.” Blue eyes ground him, just as safe and steady in the bedroom as they are on the battlefield. 

Dean turns from the door, his hands already working at the button of his jeans as he floats back toward the bed. Their clothes are gone before his jeans make it over his hips, and he decides that maybe grace has more advantages than those that are tactile. He pauses at the foot of the bed, the logistics overwhelming his lust addled brain. Shower sex isn’t the only thing that’s complicated. Hell is still just hell, though.

“What do you want, Princess?” Castiel murmurs low into Leia’s ear, and Dean is close enough to see the bumps rise on her skin.

“Deep.” Her tongue stumbles over the single word, her endorphin overloaded brain struggling to process anything more than action and touch.

“I need you to ask for it.” Castiel rolls, throwing one of her limp legs over his hip, dipping two fingers into her cunt and making her eyes fly skyward. “Or you’re not going to get what you want.”

Dean’s cock twitches against his abdomen, and he slowly strokes himself as he watches Castiel’s fingers move, listens to the wet that he caused, feels his body heat under the angel’s sharp gaze. 

They seem to spend an eternity in that moment, washed in lust, excitement, and anticipation. Everything is tense, but Dean feels lighter than he has in years as he allows himself to stop thinking and simply wait to be given a command.

“I want Dean to fuck my ass,” Leia finally manages to gasp out as Cas continues to tease her. “While I ride your cock.” 

Castiel pulls his hand out and settles her slowly onto him. Leia gasps, her hands gripping his shoulders as he guides her hips down, inch by agonizing inch, Dean’s mouth falling open and a grin crawling across Cas’ face as they both watch. Cas maneuvers them until they’re at the end of the bed, his legs hanging over the end and her knees propped on the edge. Dean runs his hand down her back, along the curve of her spine, her skin soft and smooth beneath his time roughened palm. He cups her ass, firm from decades of hunting, and his thumb rubs over a wayward freckle. He spreads it, his tongue darting out to wet his lip as he takes in the view before him, savoring it. 

“Dean.” Castiel’s voice breaks through his trance, and when he finds that sharp gaze, Castiel is holding out a bottle of lube.

Dean nods as he accepts it, his tongue too heavy in his mouth to form words. He lubes his fingers, teasing her hole before pushing one in. He would gladly go to hell again to hear the moan that left her lips as she pushed back onto his hand. He slowly works her open with one hand as he strokes himself with the other, his bottom lip pinched between his teeth.

“Dean, please I need you,” Leia whines, her forehead settled on Castiel’s shoulder as the angel busies himself kissing and nipping her neck, teeth grazing one of her favorite spots.

“Okay, darling. I’ve got you.” He preps, takes a deep breath, and pushes forward.

It feels like coming home. Dean gasps and he’s surrounded by tight heat, his hands digging into her hips, his legs settling against the bed, sandwiched between hers and Cas’s. Dean, a corner of his mind once worried about the possible awkwardness of sharing his past love with her present one, the small rational part of his brain speeding through the consequences of fucking his best friend’s girl while he’s in the room, is suddenly certain that if he moves, he will cum instantly, something he hasn’t done since he was 17.

Dean tries to think of a witty comment, the sudden vulnerability of the situation overwhelming him, the need for a protective wall of humor urgent, even though he knows it will destroy this precious moment. His mouth opens, his tongue threatening to sabotage this perfection, but instead of words Dean moans incoherently as Castiel grabs his hips and forces him to move in sync with his own thrusts.

Dean decides that it’s okay to turn his brain off. He stops thinking, and instead he starts feeling. He reaches a hand around to rub at Leia’s clit, tightens his hold on her hip as she falls limp, her body unable to hold itself up between them. Tears are rolling slowly down her cheeks, drool slipping out of the corner of her mouth as her eyes unfocus and she succumbs to the intense pleasure. 

“Such a good girl.” Cas’ voice is deeper than Dean imagined would be possible, rough and breathless as he throws his head back. “More, Dean. Harder.” Cas guides Dean’s movements, pulling his hips in. Dean plants his feet, adjusting the angle of his thrusts, giving himself leverage for more powerful thrusts, pulling a deep moan from Cas’ lips. “Yes, Dean, good.”

Dean’s balls tighten at the praise, his thighs begin to burn as his pace quickens, desperation driving him. He feels Leia cum again, hears her hiss at the end of a silent scream, but it seems far away. His only focus is chasing the high, getting relief from the pressure that’s settled on his groin, because right now everything is tightening, every muscle is tensing. Dean grasps both of her hips in his hands, his knuckles turning white as his pace begins to falter. He hears Castiel call out, feels the hands on his own hips tense and relax, and finally he’s breaking.

Time is meaningless. He falls onto the bed, years of tension seeped from his body. He feels like he’s floating, relaxed and happy, a constant pain numbed in a way that whiskey cannot help. Castiel cleans up Leia with a snap, and she wakes enough to cuddle against Dean, nuzzling her way beneath his arm just like she always has. Castiel lays behind her, bringing with him a sense of safety Dean craves. 

------

Dean is staring at the gun in his hands, but he hasn’t moved to clean it. He glances at the clock, surprised to find that he’s been unfocused for fifteen minutes. He’s not been able to make it through a quarter of his list, but he can’t bring himself to count the day as wasted as he normally would. He’s been trapped in his mind today, bouncing between nostalgia and present, doing his best to not linger on the new, overwhelming amount of ‘what-if’s and ‘what does it mean’s buzzing around his mind. 

He finds himself falling into another spiral, wondering if this was a one time romp, or if he’s not the only one with unrequited feelings. If Leia still has feelings, what does that mean for Cas? They make each other better, they need each other, and Dean does not have enough room in his mental guilt chest to add that.

A small knock at his door makes him jump, and he clears his throat and busies his hands before telling them to come in.

“Dean?” Leia’s voice is tentative, her eyes troubled. She settles herself on his bed, and Dean forces himself to stay where he is at his desk. His heart is racing nearly as fast as his mind, anxiety restricting his lungs and drying his mouth. “Can we talk?” There it was. The death sentence.

“Of course.” Dean zeroed in on the gun in his hands, focused on the familiar movements.

“I talked with Cas about what happened this morning. It...” She paused, biting her lip as she struggled with what to say next. A hundred scenarios began playing through Dean’s mind, each one worse than the previous. 

It was a one-time thing. It was a mistake. It was something I regret. It was the final straw, I can’t do this anymore, we’re leaving.

“It stirred up some emotions that I buried a long time ago. I hope that I don’t offend you by saying this, or that this makes you uncomfortable.” She took a deep breath, and Dean began to oil the pieces of his gun, glad to have something to do with his hands so that she couldn’t see them tremble as he waited patiently for her to continue, every muscle tensed and prepared for life’s usual kick to his metaphorical (and sometimes physical) balls.

“I still love you, Dean. I’ve talked it out with Cas. If you’re interested, I’d like to … make sure this isn’t a one time thing. Cas is okay with this. He understands that each of you are important to me, and each of you fulfill different areas of my life. I want you both.”

Dean’s hands stop moving. He distantly hears the piece of gun clatter to the floor. Every thought screeches to a halt as he looks up, searching her face for any hint of a lie or a prank. Instead, he finds raw vulnerability, one he had chased away long ago. The walls he had watched her build between them over the years, even the bricks he had had purposefully caused her to lay, were now mere crumbles of brick and mortar. 

A smile begins to slowly spread across Dean’s face.

Taglist:

@impala-dreamer​ @adoptdontshoppets​ @supernatural-idjit-95​ @team-free-will-you-idjits-67​ @missjenniferb​ @tumbler-tidbits​ @maddiepants​ @crashdevlin​ @thoughtslikeaminefield​ @there-must-be-a-lock​ @cracksinthewalls​ @stunudo​ @mskathywriteswords​ @rockhoochie​ @itmighthavebeenintentional​ @wanderingcas​ 

[ellovett]

girl-in-the-tower: 67, 76 and 84 for Akna and Jesse?

67. Is their bedroom messy? What about their bathroom? Kitchen? Living room?

oh my god

her room is literally the messiest out of the entire staff :((

there are just papers strewn everywhere, alchemy equipment all crammed on the shelves and tables, empty wine bottles, sharp objects like scalpel’s and syringe’s are just lying there and aren’t safely kept

along with a questionable looking experimenting table..but let’s not talk about that- there’s just so much clutter

hell she doesn’t even have a kitchen. this woman doesn’t eat. 

her bathroom tho is the only room that’s 100% clean, everything else is just extremely messy and crammed

she tries to declutter her room sometimes but she’s always so stressed and occupied she never has the time :((

so that never happens

Because of his upbringing, his room is extremely clean and organized. much to everyone’s surprise

and it’s easier for him because it’s less difficult for him to clean

since he’s a demon, he doesnt have the need to eat or to sleep, so his room just consists of a workspace, a lounging area and a shower

so he can maintain his room just fine, despite his busy work schedule

and Lillet helps him clean sometimes :DD so

76. How organized are they?

ofc,,,akna isnt organized,,,at all

like you can visit her, step on a syringe on the floor and she’d be all 

“oh shit sorry i forgot to keep this last night”

she’s always on a hurry to go to work or do important tasks she always forgets to organize her things after using them

and if she tried to organize them she’d just get extremely confused

someone help this bitch she’s falling apart

jesse meanwhile is just very organized

he deals with very sacred and dangerous artifacts/charms so he has to treats those with utmost care and make sure he doesn’t get them into the wrong hands

and he may not look he’s organized (since his desk is pretty messy and he’s a walking disaster) but trust me he is

84. Which deadly sin do they represent best?

Pride, most definitely pride

Akna’s confident in her abilities and what she’s capable of...or..a little **too** confident

this causes her to never ask help from others even though she’s in a situation she can’t go alone unless asking for death

she’s too overly confident in what she can do to the point where she never seeks help and guidance from others

this also causes her to be a little arrogant or even furious to those trying to help her, which only seem to push them away 

and she refuses to tell herself that she has limits and boundaries to where it ends with her ***hurting herself and others*** in the process

this is very fitting for him tbh since he;s a demon-

But he’d represent Wrath best

There have been many that hurt/mentally/physically/emotionally scarred this man in his long life before coming to NRC

and with that comes an uncontrollable hatred for his own kind, and a need for revenge

fortunately for him he controls this urge with those he loves, but you should’ve heard the war crimes and murders he committed towards his own people as a result of all the hurt he’d experience because of them

which would explain why he’d act so viciously towards fellow demons 

aaaaa omg Az thank you so much for the ask!!! very much appreciated ;;

[harley-sunday]

A Good Man Goes to War [Prologue]

Summary: Starts right after Civil War. Steve Rogers is done being Captain America and quite happy living a quiet life in a safe house somewhere in Canada. Until Thanos goes after the Infinity Stones. What happens when a good man goes to war? 

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC (f) Could be read as reader insert.

Warnings: None.

Word count: 2K

Entry for @browngirlmagic​‘s writing challenge. My prompt was “Demons run when a good man goes to war.”

AN: Uh, so yeah. I thought this would be a simple oneshot, but then the backstory happened and before I knew I was over 12k words in and so had to divide into multiple parts. Oh well. It happens. Also, I have never actually finished a story before publishing it online, so you can expect regular updates :) Third, I used to big a very big Doctor Who fan and so I always wanted to do something with this prompt and so here we are! This is, I think, unlike anything I have written before, mostly because it’s not from a reader’s POV. I like it, and I hope you do too. Please let me know what you think ♥

I don’t do taglists, but if you follow Harley Sunday x Steve Rogers you should see any update I post.

Masterlist

PROLOGUE

He’s not quite sure how he ended up here.

Well, he thinks then, that’s not completely true. He was there when the call was made, overhearing Fury as he asked the person on the other end of the line for a favor. There was some gentle persuasion needed and he thinks he heard Nick say something about a promise made a long time ago, but by then the former S.H.I.E.L.D. director had already walked into an empty conference room nearby and only clipped whispers of the conversation made their way to where he was waiting for a decision to be made. 

The call ended soon after and the only thing he was told was that a car would come to pick him up the next morning at 5 AM and not to be late. He just nodded, which, he is sure, surprised not only him, but also Fury, because he was never really the type to agree to something that easily. He remembers being so, so tired, not just because of the events that got him here, but because of everything leading up to that and he thinks that must have had something to do with his compliance at the time. 

Nick took him to an apartment somewhere downtown for the night, telling him to leave the key in the mailbox the next morning and to stay inside, reminding him there were people who’d rather see him locked up somewhere. The apartment was more a studio, a single bed hidden behind a room divider in the far corner, a small kitchen to his left and a dining table with two chairs to his right. 

He wasn’t really hungry but could do with some sleep and so he laid down on the bed, a piece of paper on the wall next to him catching his eye, the handwriting on it rushed as though it was a warning and he was sure the first part of it was missing from the way the paper was torn. 

..when a good man goes to war

He read the sentence over and over again, until he felt his eyes getting heavy, and then he drifted off, a restless slumber that only left him feeling more exhausted by the time his alarm went off.

The car took him to JFK Airport where he boarded a commercial flight to Toronto, and he wondered why he couldn’t have just taken the Quinjet until he realized this was, of course, the safer option. No need to compromise the location of the safe house by showing up in a stealth aircraft just because it would be easier. His disguise that day was a Toronto Blue Jays baseball cap and a pair of glasses and even though there was a little boy eyeing him curiously all throughout the flight, he still doesn’t think the kid recognized him.  

A smaller plane waited for him at Pearson International Airport, flying him to Thunder Bay in just under two hours. By then it was past noon and the lack of sleep from the night before started to catch up with him as he wondered how much longer he would have to travel to reach his final destination. There was someone waiting for him at the gate, leading him straight down the stairs and onto the tarmac, where he had to grab his duffel bag from a baggage trolley before following the man to one of the hangars on the far end of the airfield. By then it was raining, the gentle breeze from earlier turning into stronger gusts of wind, and he could see the dark promise of a storm starting to form somewhere on the northern horizon. 

Somehow he knew the aircraft in the hangar was a Piper Turbo Arrow, with a range of almost seven hundred nautical miles, and so he tried, rather unsuccessfully, to calculate where that could possibly have him end up, but he was too tired to come up with a coherent answer. The man from earlier, who turned out to be the pilot, took his bag from him then and placed it in the hold, informing him that they had a ten-minute takeoff window or else they would have to wait for the storm to pass, and asked him if he was good to go. 

They were in the sky minutes later and with the storm front slightly more to his right, he figured they were flying northwest even though that still didn’t really tell him where they were headed. He must have dozed off at some point, because it felt like only minutes later when the pilot informed him he was preparing for landing even though they had been in the air for almost two hours. As soon as they left cruising altitude they hit a bout of turbulence, the small aircraft shaking violently and the pilot joking that the storm had finally caught up with them. But they made it to the ground safely, the heavy rain hammering down on them once they excited the plane. 

He thanked the pilot, grabbed his bag, made sure the phone, of which he had given the number to Tony and Tony only, was still in the pocket of his jacket, and walked over to the main building which, by the looks of it served as both the arrival and departure hall. It was empty except for what he assumed to be a janitor mopping the floors. He sat down on one of the chairs, wondering if there was another flight he would have to take and if it maybe was delayed because of the bad weather. Leaning back in his seat he stretched out his legs in front of him, closing his eyes just for a second.

There was some commotion then, as the double doors opened and a young woman stepped inside, the rain boots she was wearing making a squeaky sound on the tiled floor. She was wearing a long, yellow raincoat, and he thought she brightened up the place instantly. She pulled her hood off and apologized to the janitor for wetting the floor before she made her way over to where he was seated, rambling on about a tree on the road that made her late. She told him she was sorry, that she should have called, but that she didn’t have his number and so that she just tried to get here as soon as possible. He felt some of his weariness disappear from the way she seemed to radiate energy and so he got up instantly and took her outstretched hand, introducing himself as Steve Rogers.

She replied she already knew that, then laughed, almost like she was a little embarrassed, and told him her name with a smile, her hand warm in his. He grabbed his bag and followed her back outside, where an idling SUV, similar to the one Nick Fury used to drive, was waiting for them. He wondered if it was decked out the same way Fury’s was and if so, if she knew how to operate it. He threw his bag in the trunk and sat down on the passenger’s seat, a smile passing over his face when he saw the interior was nothing like Fury’s car, what with an air freshener popped into one of the vents and a tiny stuffed monkey hanging from the rear view mirror. 

She put the car into drive and smiled up at him, and somehow he remembers a drop of rain sliding down her face when she told him it would take just under an hour for them to get home. He nodded and leaned back in his seat, enjoying the warmth inside the car and the music she had playing over the radio. A couple of minutes into the drive he caught sight of himself in the window, surprised to see the beginnings of a beard already starting to form. And even though up until now he had always been clean shaven, he decided right then and there he would keep it until, well, things were at least slightly back to normal. 

Once they turned off the main road she let him know they were almost there, then, after a few minutes, pointing out the fallen tree that had made her late earlier. She muttered something about having to go back tomorrow to with a chainsaw to clear the road and he wondered just how isolated her place was. As it turned out, very. 

Her log cabin was located at the very end of the road, and if he wasn’t mistaken, the last house he saw was miles away, just on the outskirts of town, and they had passed it almost thirty minutes ago. It was the perfect location for a safe house and when he told her so she agreed, even though she did admit it could get a bit lonely in the winter, when the roads would be covered in snow and it could take the snowplow weeks to reach her cabin. She was quick to assure him she liked it that way though, and that she always made sure to stock up well before winter arrived. She promised to show him the greenhouse she used to grow her own vegetables later, but that now what they needed was a some coffee and something to eat. 

His stomach growled in response and so he got out of the car, admiring the two story building in front of him. It seemed fairly old, but structurally sound, and he wondered how long it had been hers. It was almost surrounded by tall green pine trees, but behind it he could see a shallow embankment that led to a lake. She motioned for him to follow her inside, out of the rain, the overhanging roof on the back porch already offering some relief. She opened the door and stepped inside, kicking off her rain boots before she lined them up on a shoe rack. Her raincoat followed suit, as she explained that the floor here had heating and so all their wet garments should be dry in no time. She didn’t wait for him, instead made her way to the coffee machine on the counter and switched it on before she walked into the living room, where she muttered something about adding some more wood to the fire. 

He took it all in from where he stood, the kitchen to his left, stairs leading up to the second story right in front of him and the living room behind that. He could hear her somewhere in there, the crackling of the fire getting louder as she fed it more wood. He followed her example and untied his shoes before he put them next to hers, his jacket on one of the hooks of the coat rack, the warmth of the floor heating very pleasant. 

She told him to sit down, make himself comfortable while she would make him something to eat and he watched her from the couch that was in the far corner of the room, next to the fireplace on one side and some double doors that led to the front porch on the other. The room’s decor simple yet cosy, with candles on every available surface and rows and rows of books in the bookcase across from him. She handed him a cup of coffee then and told him to be careful because it was hot. Another trip to the kitchen brought him a plate with two sandwiches, made with what seemed like homemade bread, and a slice of something sweet for her. 

The coffee warmed him up even more and the first bite of the sandwich made him realize just how hungry he was. She let him eat in silence, focused on her coffee and he appreciated the gesture more than he could ever explain.

And so, even though he’s still not quite sure how he ended up here, in this cabin somewhere in Canada, he sure is glad he did.

[shadowsof-thenight]

When she least expects it - 2

Summary: When Rebecca’s relationship comes to an abrupt and painful end, she finds herself without a home. With her brother currently stationed in Iraq, she turns to the one person she knew she can always depend on—Steve Rogers.

Warnings:  Angst, heartbreak, sadness, mentions of cheating

Ship: Steve Rogers x OFC—Rebecca Barnes

A/n: This was written for Star’s Follower Celebration. The prompt was a roommate AU.

Series Masterlist

***

Chapter two

A few blissful moments of ignorance were all Rebecca got when she woke up the following morning. She stretched her sleepy limbs with her eyes still closed—her mind still empty and peaceful. For those moments she was infinitely content. Then she dropped her arms on the pillows that surrounded her head, and she picked up the scent of freshly washed linen. This was not her brand, she realised, and reality came crashing down in painful waves. She quickly opened her eyes and recognised the apartment as that of her brother—the off-white walls would most certainly not have been her choice for this space. Her heart instantly hammered in her chest as she remembered all that had happened, and she tried to distract herself by taking in the room. There was a significant lack of personal items and too many of his things were still stored in boxes. She knew why—he’d spent shockingly little time in this apartment since he and Steve had bought it. It had been nearly two years since then, but Bucky had spent two thirds of that overseas. Six months ago, Steve opted to train new cadets as his next career move. It gave his life more stability and Rebecca had welcomed his more consistent presence in her daily life with open arms. Bucky had not been ready for the change, and she still wondered when he would be.

She glanced at the nightstand to her right, expecting to find a picture there—one of her and Bucky—and found it to be missing. Nothing but an alarm clock remained on the clean surface. It occurred to her that he must have brought it with him, and it sent a jolt through her aching heart, acting like a balm for the broken pieces—he valued it as much as she did. No matter how lonely she felt or where life took her, she knew she was never truly alone. Her brother would be there. Or brothers really, since Steve had shown no intention of leaving, and after more than 20 years, she didn’t think that would ever change.

Rebecca allowed herself a few moments to wallow in all the emotions that were coursing through her body. There was still so much to be grateful for—she knew that—but it was hard to ignore the pain this early in the morning. She was in a safe and comfortable place, if not exactly where she had hoped to be at 25. With a groan, she pulled one of the pillows tight over her face to muffle the scream that had been building in her throat. She was angry at her circumstances, but even more so with herself, and she was actually straining to keep herself from screaming repeatedly. However, she did not want to wake the wonderful, generous man that resided in the room down the hall.

Finally she got up from the bed and grabbed the warm sweater she had discarded last night, pulling it over the tank top she had slept in. Checking the time, she wondered briefly if Steve’s routine had remained the same since changing positions. He would often get up at ungodly hours to run laps in the nearby park. She reckoned he still did, and that meant that he would be back by now, so she braced herself to greet his concerned face. Life could not be ignored, and she figured she’d better face the music swiftly.

Steve was patient and kind; he would not press too much. However, he would eventually expect a better explanation than the “he fell out of love with me” shtick she’d pulled last night. She was not the kind of person to put things off, just because they were hard, though she had become a master at evading talking about her deepest emotions. She would much rather keep up a mask, pretend she was fine. Not that she had any qualms about Steve falling for it though; he always did see right through her. The perks of knowing one another for so long. She wondered how he would react to the story and wondered briefly if she could lie to him. It had never been her strong suit, but the truth seemed a little too much to share. Perhaps she could find a happy middle and hope he would not dig any deeper.  

“Hey.” His deep voice greeted her as soon as she stepped into the living room. He stood by the counter, throwing his favourite cereal in a bowl before adding milk. He was still dressed for a work out, though he had discarded his shoes—they were likely dropped by the front door. He never wore shoes inside. The deep blue of his damp shirt brought out the brightness of his eyes and she admired it for a short moment. His skin was glistening and she realised he must have only returned moments before. She was surprised that he had not deviated from his routine after their late night chat. The clock had only just struck eight—he must have gotten very little sleep.

“Hi,” Rebecca replied, her voice still groggy with sleep.

She walked up behind him, reaching to grab a glass from the cupboard by his head. Steve dutifully stood stock still for her, an amused smile on his lips. She filled the glass with water and chugged it. Steve said nothing—he just grabbed a spoon from the drawer to his left and turned to lean against the counter. In silence, he observed Rebecca as she moved around the small space, careful to avoid stepping on his bare feet. She had never been known for her light steps. She downed a second glass of water and turned to the fridge to check it’s contents. She had never been big on breakfast, and after finding nothing to entice her, she opted for an apple. She knew better than to try Steve’s tasteless, though undoubtedly healthy, grains. She needed something a little easier on the taste buds. When she moved past him to make her way to the couch, she still had not said a word.

“Sleep well?” He finally asked as he followed her out of the kitchen.

Plopping down, she pulled her legs under herself and curled up in a corner as she munched on the apple. Steve chose a different approach. He stacked some pillows and, half sitting against them, stretched out on the long side of the couch. She chuckled. Knowing him, he had pushed his muscles to the limit—he would need to lie there for a minute.

“Sure.” She shrugged, choosing not to tell him of the uneasy hours filled with twisting and turning. It took a long time before she’d finally succumbed to a restless sleep, and even then it had been filled with unintelligible dreams. She’d woken up far too quickly.

Steve sighed, pushing out a humourless chuckle as he took in her evasive behaviour. She never outright lied, but he could tell when she wasn’t telling him the whole story. She’d always been a master of it, dancing around subjects and twisting truths. It had gotten them out of trouble quite a few times when they were younger. He knew better than to let her get away with it now, but he wasn’t as confrontational as her brother would have been, and he didn’t know if his approach would work best. Still, it was all they had until Bucky returned in a few months’ time, and he certainly wasn’t planning on waiting that long to get answers.

“Talk to me,” he said softly. “Please!”

With his breakfast done, he placed the bowl on the table and shifted to look directly at her. A sigh escaped her lips as she struggled to find the right words to tell him. She didn’t want to blurt it all out, fearing regret, worrying he might get angry. Finally, she opened her mouth, ready to spout a little white lie to hold him off until she was ready to dive deeper into the subject, but then they were interrupted.

Frantic knocking resounded through the hallway, drifting into the living room. They shared a confused look. Whoever was at the door was impatient. It was far too early to deal with that, she thought. Steve grumbled, annoyed with the interruption, and he stood to answer. Rebecca listened intently, trying to figure out who it was without having to go look. However, no words were spoken and seconds later, Rebecca had to jump up when someone burst into the room. An angry redhead pulled her into a bone-crushing hug, angrily telling her off for not calling her. Rebecca needed a moment to figure out why she was supposed to have called Natasha. That was until she realised that her friend had known where to find her. She must have been made aware of the break-up, which confused Rebecca—Steve would not have told her yet, and why on earth would Jack even try to get in touch with her in the first place?

She leaned into the hug, returning it as she tried to suppress an amused smile at Natasha’s apparent inability to decide between comforting and chastising. Rebecca caught Steve’s stare over Natasha’s shoulder and saw her amusement reflected in his eyes. He was struggling to keep from laughing.

Natasha was always a force of nature—intense, a tad unpredictable at times, strong willed, and fiery—but she also had a killer poker face. And she was one of the most loyal people in the world. Rebecca was incredibly lucky to have her as a best friend.

“How did you know where I was?” Rebecca asked when Natasha finally stopped grumbling. They stepped back from one another and Rebecca dropped back on the couch, resuming her previous position. Natasha sat beside her, and Steve moved to the kitchen and began brewing a pot of coffee for Natasha and himself, along with some tea for Rebecca.

“Jack called me,” Natasha offered, and Rebecca could see the anger brimming under the calm facade her friend showed. Foolishly, Rebecca momentarily wondered if Jack regretted his decision. Natasha’s next words put a stopper to that. “He wanted to tell you that you needed to pick up your things ASAP.”

“And he called you?” Steve asked, incredulous. He wasn’t aware that Rebecca had turned off her phone the moment she had left her house last night. His house really. Though she had called the apartment home for quite some time, her name had never been on the papers. A stupid decision, she realised now. It meant she had lost the roof over her head, while he lost nothing. And he deserved some inconvenience after his appalling behaviour.

“That’s what caught your attention?” Natasha countered, before turning to Rebecca. “He seemed in an awful hurry—seeing as you were still an item 24 hours ago. Care to tell me what happened?”

Steve went into high gear as he poured the drinks and handed them to the women before sitting down on the couch again. As he sat, he stared intensely at the beautiful brunette that had turned up so unexpectedly the night before. He was increasingly curious to know what had happened.

Knowing she would not be able to avoid answering the two people in front of her—they were a great interrogation team— Rebecca settled in, tea in hand. Memories instantly flashed through her mind as she tried to grasp the moment where everything had changed.

Jack was a good-looking guy; women turned their heads when he walked by, and Rebecca had been surprised that he even noticed her. She wasn’t insecure, merely realistic. She was pretty on a good day, not beautiful like him. All too soon, she’d noticed his arrogance, but she’d also noticed his boundless humour. He always managed to make her laugh, even on a bad day. When they had first started dating, sparks flew. They quickly fell in love and had a hard time keeping their hands off one another. The problem with sparks was that they either faded quickly or ignited a fire, and with the combination of their characters, it was mostly the latter. The fire had been so beautiful, all consuming, wild and entirely uncontrollable. Rebecca didn’t understand why it had taken them so long to combust, or why she had not gotten out sooner. She had allowed herself to get burned, and she would have to carry that with her.

In the years they had been together, their good times had been as bountiful as the bad. They’d been like cats and dogs—unparalleled shouting matches would resound in their home, followed by equally passionate make-up sessions. Those had been enough to make the most stoic person blush.

Jack had been jealous—he even had trouble accepting Steve in her life—and he was a little controlling at times, while Rebecca had a desire to feel free, and her sharp tongue had all too often aggravated him. Looking back, they really hadn’t been a good match. Hindsight. Their fights had never gotten physical, but they were still intense and draining. So it shouldn’t have been a surprise that he moved on, but it had been. Especially since he had forgotten to tell her. In fact he had forgotten to do so for months.

With his desire to rid his place of all things Rebecca, she realised that he was already thinking of letting another woman into it. That was a hard pill to swallow. She could not understand how his feelings had so easily changed. They had been together for years and until the very end, they had been…passionate. Damaging and wrong as well, yes, but the passion had not diminished—not even those last few months. She should be happy to be rid of him, she knew, but it would take some time for her feelings to catch up to that knowledge.

The first step would be to inform her friends of the information she had found out last night; Jack had been having an affair for the past four months. He hadn’t told her—she had found some receipts she couldn’t account for. He hadn’t even blinked when she confronted him, and he’d simply admitted that he was over her. There had been no emotion, no care, and that was what had truly broken her heart. She had invested so much of her heart into this relationship. Her relationship had not been perfect, she was well aware of that, but to have it end as it did—it was hard.

Rebecca didn’t spare herself as she recounted the gritty details, and tears were streaming down her face by the time she finished her tale. It had not been easy to do; she felt too much like a failure, and she had more pride than was good for her. The people sitting with her knew her so well, and she couldn’t hide her feelings from them. Which was why she had laid it all out for them, despite how tough that was. There was no putting on a brave face with Natasha and Steve—they would see right through it. They asked questions, prodded a little deeper, and broke down her walls.

Natasha pulled her close in a sideways hug, while Steve dropped to the floor in front of her and grasped onto her hands with a gentleness that only increased the flow of tears. They were so kind and understanding, but they didn’t understand the failure that seeped in her veins. Still, they would support and love her through this, and she knew this was the best place she could be right now. The only thing to make it better would have been her brother coming home. Alas, she would have to wait a few more months.

***

The days after her confession were spent in a whirlwind of emotions. Rebecca could not remember when she’d last cried this often. Nor had she ever before switched between emotions quite so easy. Anger, sadness, and bitterness swapped each other out in such quick procession that it took her by surprise.

Three days after leaving the place she had called home, Rebecca made plans to pack up her belongings. With the help of Steve, Natasha, and Natasha’s boyfriend Sam, this was all to be done in a single afternoon. Too fast to grasp it, but it was all she was willing to give it. Jack had promised to steer clear of the place, and she was happy for that much at least. She wouldn’t have felt certain that Steve would not attack him. The blond soldier was so angry with Jack. For her, he had been a saint though. Through her erratic behaviour, through her flailing emotions, he had remained the same protective, patient friend. Even then though, she cussed him out over the most ridiculous things—the other day she had gotten angry at him for cleaning the apartment. She had left papers strewn all over the place, and he had stacked them into a neat pile on the table next to her laptop. Rebecca had always been more messy than the two men, but she always told them that there was a system to the clutter, and when he had cleaned, Steve had paid no mind to her system.

She knew she had been wrong the moment she had opened her mouth, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. He didn’t deserve it, and she would have to find a way to make it up to him later on. But, Steve had just accepted her anger, almost taking it in stride. He pushed back the bare minimum and remained eerily calm—at the time, this had pissed her off even more. Now she just wanted to know how he had managed it—perhaps he had some tips on anger management he could share with her.

Steve found himself shocked by her behaviour; he had never seen her like this, and though he tried to be understanding, it was hard. He accepted her anger and her pain, going back and forth between consoling and pushing back gently. However, it was putting a strain on him, and he hoped it would get better soon. He didn’t know how he could best help her—he was a fixer and he couldn’t fix this for her. She wasn’t talking about her feelings, at least not to him, and his hands were tied. She would need to work through these phases of grief on her own, and it was hard to watch—even though he understood that this was what she needed.

He was incredibly happy when he finally noticed her return to her normal self, slowly but surely, over the course of weeks. Her emotions levelled out, and she started to find little things to laugh at again. The sadness came less and less and her teasing nature returned. She teased him mercilessly and Steve couldn’t have been happier to be embarrassed.

[fanfictionaries]

Love and Academia Ch. 7 - Date Night and David Bowie

Pairing: AU Professor!Bucky x OFC

Warnings: Swearing, smut, NSFW/18+ only, mentions of death/violence/suicide, Angst

Author’s note: A bit of moody conflicted Bucky? Check, check, and check! Some nice Bucky/Emily interaction? Check, check, and check! 

And as always, I do not currently have a beta reader so please excuse any larger issues. It’s just little ol’ me!

***

The phone rang. Ring after ring after ring after ring. The sharp tone assaulting Bucky’s ears. It was funny, how a sound that once filled him with excitement, the promise of a voice on the other end, now left him feeling empty and expectedly disappointed.

“Hi! You’ve reached Diane. Sorry I’m not here right now but leave a message and I’ll get back to you.”

The beep of the answering machine rang through and Bucky found himself doing something that he hadn’t bothered doing for a while. He left a message.

“Hey, Diane. You know, you really should change your message since we both know you’re the worst at calling people back,” Bucky laughed the humor in the memory of her poor communication skills momentarily filling his mind, before evaporating into thin air and leaving only the silence on the other end. “Look, I know you won’t call me back. Won’t even listen to this, but I have…things are just really hard without you here. I know we talked about this and I know that if things had gone differently that you’d be here with me, but it’s been hard without you. I understand why you had to stay in Brooklyn, but I…I wish you hadn’t,” Bucky breathed deeply, the air coming in shakily as the weight of her absence laid heavily on his chest. He swallowed, his throat tight and constrained, “Alright. I should probably let you go. Trixie’s been eyeing me all night to take her for a walk and you know how she gets. Alright, um…I love you. You know that. Uh, bye.”

He sighed deeply, looking around the darkening room. The house was a mess and he had absolutely no motivation to fix any of it. Sure, he kept it clean, but what use was a clean house when it was falling apart under every sweep of a broom and pass of a duster? The walls needed to be repainted. The floors needed to be refinished. The floorboard needed to be repaired in some places and light switches needed to be replaced. There was a leak in the basement. The showers needed to be recaulked. The stove was disgustingly outdated. And of course, there was the giant hole in the middle of the staircase. A cold, wet nose on the side of his hand brought his attention back to the present and away from the looming pressure of the house and all it represented.

“Okay. Okay. I hear ya,” Bucky grumbled, standing up from the couch before grabbing Trixie’s leash from the hook near the front door. He attached it to her collar, earning him a kiss on the back of the hand. Smiling, he patted her on the top of the head and grabbed a roll of ecofriendly poop bags. The door slammed behind him as he stepped out onto the porch. He didn’t bother locking the door. Let them take whatever they wanted. There wasn’t really anything to steal aside from the TV anyway. Everything of value he and Diane had ever owned was back in Brooklyn. Back with her.

The sun was beginning to set, the deep streaks of oranges and reds painting the sky in a swirling watercolor of light. The air held an unfamiliar freshness; a slight breeze cooled the warm late summer night. It was quiet. Only the faint sound of passing cars in the distance filled his ears. Bucky hated to admit it, but small-town suburban life wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. The small town of Pocatello didn’t hold the same cramped, claustrophobic feeling the city did. People were friendly here. They said hello when they passed you on the street. They started conversations at the grocery store, the car wash, the dentist’s office. Even his coworkers possessed the same level of open candidness and comradery. So far, his barbeque invite count was up to three and he’d only met them all a week ago. It had taken nearly two years at his last position for him to grab lunch with his coworkers. That level of human connection never struck Bucky as something he needed. However, the more he received it, the more he seemed to crave it like a drug. It felt nice to feel included. Staying out of his head was easier done when people acted as constant distractions.

He wandered the street a few blocks, stopping when Trixie did to sniff a particularly interesting tree. Glancing to his left, his eyes fell upon a little white house across the street. Bright light streaming from the living room window illuminated the yard in front of it and framed the scene inside. Three children, clad in brightly colored pajamas ran rampant through the room, jumping and, he could only assume, screaming as they chased each other. A golden retriever followed behind the youngest’s heel, tongue out and tail wagging. They circled the couch, smiles wide across their little chubby faces. The eldest couldn’t have been more than five, boldly and confidently leading the younger two as she climbed onto the couch and began to jump on the cushions. The younger two, a boy and girl followed suit, jumping gleefully. However, their fun was short lived. Coming into the room, a man in his thirties grabbed the eldest around the middle and lifted her into air, before sitting down onto the couch and pulling her onto his lap. In seconds, he was covered by the other two. The joy in the man’s eyes made Bucky’s chest clench. That was supposed to be him. In another life it might have been. Now, the chances of it ever happening felt slim to none.

From his side, he heard Trixie let out a small bark. He paid her no mind as he continued to stare at the family through their open window. Trixie let out another, louder bark and his arm jerked to the side. Her leash slipped from his grasp, drawing his attention back in her direction to see the black and white collie bolting down the street in the direction of a person. Once his mind registered what was going on, Bucky took off after Trixie, his feet pounding on the pavement trying to catch his dog before she got to whoever she had beelined for. He watched the thin figure, that he could now distinguish as a young woman, pull back slightly as Trixie approached her and then squat down to greet her. A mop of long blonde hair hung low, almost to the ground as she cuddled the dog.

“Sorry! She doesn’t usually run away like that,” apologized Bucky as he reached them. “I hope she didn’t—”

His words were lost when the young woman whipped her head up, surprise written across her face. Of all the people it could be.

“Oh. Miss Colvert. Hi.”

“Dr. Barnes, um hi.”

The silence was palpable as Bucky and Emily stared at each other, neither knowing what to say. As if sensing the tension, Trixie yipped before tackling Emily and licking her face. Bucky panicked, afraid that Emily would put ‘attacked by his dog’ on the long list of grievances he had caused her.

“Oh my god. No—”

Again, the words were lost from him as the soft lilt of Emily’s laughter filled his ears. The young blonde gladly and opening accepted the love from his dog, scratching behind her ears and continuing to laugh as she shifted her face left and right, trying to avoid any direct contact of tongue to mouth. Wrapping her arms around the dog’s neck, she sat up and shifted to the side, briefly hugging Trixie, her small hands digging into the long shaggy coat.

“She’s absolutely fine. She just wanted some cuddles—” Emily pulled back cupping Trixie’s face in her hands before speaking to her directly “—didn’t you girl? Yea. Yes, you did!”

Trixie’s tail wagged a thousand miles a minute as she stared into Emily’s chocolate brown eyes. Bucky couldn’t help but let a little smile slip across his face as he watched Emily croon over Trixie. It had been a while since the border collie had been in such high spirits. It was nice to see her taking to someone so quickly and looking so happy. Bucky crouched down next to the two of them, grabbing ahold of Trixie’s leash once more and scratching behind her ears.

“She really likes you.” He tried to make his voice seem light. The last thing he wanted to do was upset the poor girl. He probably seemed like such an ass at this point. Ever since his outburst earlier that day he had felt awful. Bucky didn’t want to say that it had been a reaction born out of jealousy, but really there was nothing else he could call it. He’d taken one look at the tall, muscular man wrapped around his graduate student and something inside of him had snapped. A twisting in his gut that turned his mood 180. A stupid, primal, monkey-brain reaction. To her, he probably seemed like the sleaziest guy in the world. A married man that picks her up at a bar, leaves her half-naked in an alleyway, accuses her of stalking him, and then gets jealous when he sees her with another man? What a psycho.

“That’s because she has good taste. Isn’t that right—” Emily paused, looking to Bucky, “What’s her name?”

“Trixie.”

Bucky watched a string of emotions cross Emily’s face. First surprise, then confusion, and finally embarrassment?

“Trixie? I thought…” she pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth and he could just make out the faint hint of a blush on her face in the fading daylight.

“What?” asked Bucky, tilting his head at her.

“Nothing,” she laughed, standing and shaking her head.

Bucky stood too, still looking at the soft lines of Emily’s face as his mind tried to piece together her reaction. As if deciding in that moment that she was bored with the situation, Trixie headed in the direction they had originally been going, pulling Bucky with her. Emily followed, smiling down at the dog. They continued down the street, allowing Trixie to lead the way as she sniffed and marked her territory. It was a few minutes later that Bucky realized that he and Emily were just…walking together. No tension. No cold shoulder. No biting edges. Just walking. It was nice. However, when he glanced over at her, he found her expression to be far from tranquil. She seemed sad. A little forlorn. A little lost. A little familiar.

“Do you have any pets?” he asked, hoping that conversation would bring back the light-hearted smile and laughter that Trixie had produced a few minutes before.  

“No, my building doesn’t allow animals much bigger than a fish,” Emily said, staring down at her hands.

“Not a fan of fish then?”

“Not really, but…” Emily nose scrunched in thought as she spoke, words trailing off, hesitation in her voice.

“But, what?” Bucky smiled, glancing over at her as they stilled for a moment to let Trixie inspect a fire hydrant.  

Emily continued to play with her hands. Avoiding eye contact with him as she seemed to be battling something inside of herself.

“What is this?” asked Emily finally, looking up at him and staring directly into his eyes. The question was blunt. Desperate almost.

“What’s what?” Bucky asked in confusion.

“This. This whole, twenty questions thing. I just—”

“Hey,” Bucky cut her off, holding his hands up in defense. “Look, I know we started off on the wrong foot. But, I promise, there’s no ulterior motive here. You’re my graduate student. We’re going to be spending a lot of time together this year and I want you—I want us to feel comfortable around each other. For no other reason than for the year to just go a bit smoother for both of us.”

There. He had said it. Well, he had kind of said it. He didn’t think for a second that it was lost on either of them – the fact that he had managed to bring up their past without really bringing up their past. But still, the cards were on the table and now, it was her turn to decide. He waited as Emily appeared to chew on his words, letting them ruminate.

“But…I’ve always wanted an axolotl,” Emily said, beginning to walk again. Her answer to his first question, really an answer to his second. She was willing to make an effort to bridge the gap. This was good.

Bucky sighed in relief, following after her and easily falling into step, “An axolotl? Really?”

“Yea, this girl I knew growing up used to have one. She named him Buzz, but I always thought he looked more like a Ziggy.”

“Ziggy? As in—”

“Ziggy Stardust, yea. My mom was a big David Bowie fan. Guess it rubbed off on me a bit,” said Emily with a small smile.

“Well your mom has good taste. Where does she live?”

“She’s um, she’s dead.”

He was an idiot. Two seconds into their new semi-friendly conversation and he managed to bring up her dead mother.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Emily I—”  

“It’s fine. You’re fine. It was a long time ago,” Emily assured him before continuing, “After she passed, I used to go over a lot to see, Ziggy, and I’d just sit and watch her float. I’d think of my mom and, I don’t know, it…”

“Helped?” Bucky finished for her. Emily nodded, looking up at him with a small smile, a glint of surprise in her eye.

“Sorry. Wow. I did not mean to spring the whole dead mom thing on you,” she laughed before turning to him in excitement, her tone light and casual “I have a question!”

“Shoot.”

“Your accent,” Emily responded.

“My accent?” Bucky questioned, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Yea, your accent.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t have an accent,” Bucky teased her. He knew full well he had an accent. He got it all the time in Boston and even more since he’d moved to the Midwest.

Emily laughed, his heart lightening at the sound and swelling with pride that he had managed to finally lift her spirits. “Don’t lie. You totally have an east coast accent. I can hear it in your A’s and E’s and the way you drop your R’s”

“Oooohh that accent,” Bucky said in mock realization.

“Yea, that accent,” Emily teased back.

“Brooklyn.”

“Really?”

“Born and raised,” Bucky admitted. Stopping when he realized that they had ended up in front of his house. Emily stopped as well, spinning to stand in front of him, her hands placed casually in the pockets of her light coat.

“Idaho must be a big change for you then. What’s been the hardest part?”

Not having Diane.

“Honestly? The elevation. I’ve never felt more out of shape in my life,” said Bucky exasperatedly, trying to ignore the nagging voice in the back of his head.

“I’d like to say you’ll get used to it, but I’ve been here almost four years and I’m still out of breath by the time I get to the top of the stairs to my apartment. Or at least, I keep telling myself it’s the elevation,” joke Emily, pulling a face at her own expense.

“Well I run every morning with Trixie, you’re more than welcome to join us. Might help with the uh, elevation.”

“I think I’d rather keep lying to myself.”

Their laughter filled the air around them, falling into a soft comfortable silence as the wind blew around them. Golden strands whipped through the air and guilt washed over Bucky as his thoughts strayed for a second in just how beautiful she looked in the setting summer sun. Clearing his throat, he turned to the house behind him, windows dark and curtains drawn.

“Well, um, this is me,” said Bucky.

Emily frowned in the direction of his house, “Looks awfully dark in there. No one waiting up for you tonight?”

The question struck Bucky as odd, but he answered it all the same, “No one to wait up for me. Just me and Trixie, huh girl?” He looked down, patting Trixie on the head as a way to ground himself, trying not to focus on the sadness that washed over him at his statement. No. There was no one waiting for him at home.

“Oh—” a mixture of confusion and sadness etched across Emily’s face “—well, this was nice. I’ll see you on Monday.” Emily turned, beginning to head down the street.

“Wait!” Bucky called out at her retreating figure. “It’s pretty dark. Do you want me to walk you home?”

“Oh no, I’ll be fine. I live pretty close to here actually,” said Emily, turning, an appreciative grin spread across her face.

“Are you sure? You never know when an axe murderer might be lurking around,” Bucky joked, earning him a light laugh from Emily, the sound like bells chiming through the air.

“You’re not in the big city anymore, Mister Brooklyn. Axe murders are limited around these parts.” Bucky smiled at the nickname and the way the gentle teasing came so naturally from her lips. No, he certainly wasn’t in the big city anymore.

“Well, I can’t in good conscience let you walk home without knowing you’re safe. Why don’t you take my number and text me when you get home?”

Emily took a moment to ponder his offer and then nodded in agreement, pulling her phone from her pocket and handing it to him. Bucky created a new contact, punched in his number and gave the phone back to her.

“Alright, I’ll text you,” said Emily, turning back around and heading down the street. Bucky waved, watching her retreating figure until it disappeared around the corner. Turning back towards the red brick Victorian, he felt conflicted. A lightness filled his chest. A sense of relief and ease that he hadn’t felt in months. Was it because of Emily? Was it simply relief that she appeared to no longer hate him? That she felt comfortable enough around him to joke and even open up? Or was it the way her laughter and smile brightened the space around him? Or the way the sun shined through her hair, illuminating it like strands of gold? A heaviness fell back onto his chest, crushing the weightless feeling almost as quickly as it had come. Diane. Diane was his wife. He loved his wife. But she wasn’t there. She had been the one to tell him to let go. To move on. To move to a different state and forget about her. So, he shouldn’t feel guilty. Right? Not to mention, Emily was his graduate student. Nothing would ever happen with her now. Nothing could ever happen with her again. So, there was nothing to feel guilty about. Right?

It was fifteen minutes later, when Bucky found himself already curled up in bed, that his phone buzzed from the bedside table.

Unknown Number:

Made it home safe and sound. The axe murderers will have to try harder next time.

The smile that broke across his face was uncontrollable. Fuck. He shouldn’t feel guilty, right?

Marvel Taglist: 

@caffiend-queen

@hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall

@theavengersandme (I saw you recently read through the first 6 chapters - thought you might like to know that the newest chapter is up? Let me know if this is totally off base!) 

[mrs-dragneel-stark-solo]

Unforseen Chasm (Part 49)

Part 49 of Unforseen Chasm

Prompt: Two sisters fall for men that are absolute enemies. The love they have could tear all of them apart, or it could bring them together. Word Count: 3399 Warnings: disagreement, Banner changes his demeanor towards OFC!Shannon, an old flame reappears for reader,  song for this part: Note: This is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written (including my other fic series). first major Collab with my best friend @thorne93​​ what was first a simple “what if” moment turned into a two year writing session and I’ve never been more prouder of myself than when i started my first series. goes through most of the MCU plots there are some changes to accommodate for what we wanted and there is a bit of a crossover between the MCU and other characters. I hope you guys enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it.

It was a long ride back, but Shannon slept through most of it. Pietro got the medical care he needed, as did everyone else. The rest of the team went to clean up, rest up, and in a few days, the new recruits would start their training with Steve and Natasha. 

You told Loki you’d join Shannon at the mansion to see what answers they had and that you’d meet him at the apartment when you were done. Tony packed Shannon an overnight bag just in case, and Bruce packed his medical gear as well. Pretty soon everyone set off for the mansion. 

Shannon was silent. She hadn’t said one word to anyone. She just stared out of the window on the way to the mansion. When Tony informed her of where all of you were going, all she did was barely nod. 

Finally, you pulled into the driveway and everyone piled out. Shannon was this quiet mess as she made her way up the stairs. You didn’t have the heart to tell her what all she’d said and done. She seemed to know that she’d done something, but you didn’t think she knew the extent of the fight, so you left it alone. 

“Ah, Tony,” Xavier greeted with a smile. “I would say it's good to see you again, but under these circumstances, I’m not sure,” he noted. 

“Can you fix her?” Tony asked.

“I’ll certainly try,” he assured. 

With that, the trials began. They ran every type of test and scan they could get their hands on. It was about eight hours of tests, and still no answers, except one. 

“Shannon’s power, she’s like Rogue,” Hank began explaining to everyone, “she absorbs powers. But Rogue, it’s short lived. She takes them for only a little bit of time. Shannon absorbs everything and doesn’t let it go. Now, you said the powers started to wear her down when she and Y/N fought back in New York, right?” 

Tony, you, and Bruce nodded. 

“I think Y/N’s power may be attacking Shannon’s cells. Y/N’s power is unique, and it charges the cells it goes to, energizes them. I’d be curious to see what Y/N’s powers do when she casts them on Shannon, rather than Shannon absorbing them.” 

“You want her to attack Shannon?” Tony asked, already getting defensive. 

“No,” Hank assured. “We’d start small. A drop of blood from each, and see how they react.” 

Your eyes narrowed as you thought. “You think that because my power is like a cancer in her, that my power can heal her,” you noted.

“Like radiation,” Bruce suddenly realized. 

“Okay, time out,” Tony said. “What’s happening?” 

“Radiation, it can cause cancer, right? Too many x-rays and you could be a walking tumor,” Bruce explained. “But then you can use radiation to counteract the tumor, trying to get it to heal.”

“My power acts the same way,” you explained. ”If this works… My powers charge cells to their potential. Well Shannon’s cells have the potential to heal themselves. If I can use my energy on her, to charge her cells, it could fix what’s wrong with her,” you realized. 

“Right,” Hank agreed. “I just want to see how your blood interacts first.” 

“Whoa, wait a minute I don’t like the idea of having her go through this experimenting. There’s no way I'm going to let that happen,” Tony started off saying. “What if something goes wrong and she gets worse?”

“Tony, stop. If they think that this can help, then let them do their thing. I’d rather go through this than let myself get killed off by powers that aren’t mine.” She looked a little annoyed. “Don’t think about the negatives, think of the possibilities.”

“But, Shannon, don’t you see there’s a risk in this!”

“You don’t think I know that!” she yelled and the lights flickered. “I don’t want to keep getting weak each time I use my powers.” She got pale as she let her powers take over. 

“I don’t think that we should be pushing her this hard.” Bruce was the one to reply, seeing just how bad she was getting. “Hank, let’s get her to one of the beds in the Med Bay.” He held her close making sure she didn't fall.

“Tony, I know this is hard,” Charles tried, “but if you don’t let us try, then she will slowly die from these powers. At least this way we have a shot.” 

“Alright, alright, but I’ll have bruce keep a close eye on everything so that nothing goes wrong,” Tony grumbled, hating that they were right. He loved Shannon too much to let her suffer through this and die. He didn’t know what he would do if that did happen. “How long will this take till she’s completely cured?”

“That’s hard to say,” Hank responded. “If their blood reacts how I hope it does, and how I think it does, then hopefully less than a month.” 

“So essentially her medicine would be taking like ‘shots’ of my powers?” you clarified. 

“Right.” 

“Okay,” you said with a deep breath. 

“Let’s just get some samples and go from there.” 

And so he did. He took blood from both you and Shannon. Bruce and Hank were in the lab for only ten minutes before they came back to the rest of you. 

“It’s conclusive. Y/N’s blood merged with Shannon’s, and it killed out the bad cells,” he confirmed. “So if you two are ready, we’ll start the procedure,” Hank said, eyeing both of you. “Now, this will take a toll on the two of you. Shannon, your body will be undergoing rigorous fixing of itself, and Y/N, you’ll have to have the endurance to keep your powers going into her for long periods of time. Do you think you two can do this?” 

You stared at Shannon. “I’m game if you are. I’ll do anything I can to help you,” you assured. 

“Let's get this started then,” Shannon replied from the bed in the Bay. She had gotten weaker by the time they had come to the conclusion. “I think now is a good time as any to start, seeing as how weak I am I won't be leaving tonight.” She pointed to herself.

“I’ll just call Loki,” you stated. You gave your beloved a call and told him you might be at the mansion all night. He understood, wished you and Shannon well, and he asked for you to text when you were on your way home. 

Hank and Bruce escorted you and Shannon to the medical facility within the mansion, which was in the basement. 

“Alright, let’s get you two comfortable. Shannon, I think you should lay down here,” Hank suggested, pointing to a bed. “Y/N, you can sit here, on this bed.”

You got comfortable, as did Shannon while they continued to instruct you. They put electrodes on Shannon’s scalp, a heart rate monitor on, and something to gauge her temperature. Before you knew it, she had wires all over her. The next moment, they were directing you.

“Alright, Bruce is going to keep an eye on her vitals, meanwhile, I’m going to monitor your power going into her,” Hank stated. 

“What do I...do?” you asked, concerned. “I mean, how do I--”

“Set your power to the lowest setting you can, and just let your power flow into her. We’ll monitor for ten minutes and see how it does.” 

You nodded and looked to Shannon. “You ready for this?” 

“I’m ready to not feel like this,” she responded. 

All you could do was nod, and you started the gentle flow of energy for ten minutes. Shannon seemed alright, only sweating slightly, and feeling a bit of discomfort, but no pain. They checked in for pain, discomfort, how you were holding up. They did a check of all of her vitals, and other than her heart rate increasing, they were looking great. Everything was checking in better than when you started, slightly. 

Bruce and Hank asked that you continue to let your powers flow for another hour. By the end of the session you were tired and told Loki you’d have to stay the night. He said that was alright. 

Bruce and Hank both thought it would be better for you two to stay indefinitely at the mansion, until the treatment was complete. It would be easier this way, as the sessions were too much of a toll on both of you. Tony came and went. Loki hadn’t been by to visit you yet.

They let you bunk together in the same room. The next day, you were in med bay, but a few students were in there. They watched what you two were doing, asking questions, inquiring. Pretty soon, the med by was full of students coming in and out, curious as to what Mrs. Stark was doing with Loki’s girlfriend. 

At first, it was kind of cute, you knew they were only inquisitive, but it began to feel intrusive. That night, just when you were about to finish the session, a familiar voice came into the room. 

“Well look what the wind blew in,” he said and your face whipped toward the handsome cajun in the doorway. 

“Remy!” you breathed. You wanted to get up and greet him, but you were rather weak. 

“Alright, everybody out. Let’s give the ladies some room to breathe,” he instructed to the kids. They all collectively groaned. He rolled his eyes and laughed. “I know, I know, I’m the worst.” He ruffled some kids’ hair as they walked by. “Go on, scram.” He sauntered up to your table and gave you an award winning smile. “Word around the house is you two madamoiselles are here playing doctor,” he teased, leaning over on his arms on your bed. 

“Actually, she is,” Shannon replied, gesturing to you. “She’s fixing me with her power.” 

“Is that right?” Remy asked with a grin. 

“Guess so,” you said, smiling at him. 

“Where you been, stranger?” he asked, poking you. 

“Trying to get my life back on track,” you informed. “I’ve been released, so has Loki, so we’re starting to get our lives together.” 

“Well I’ll be. That’s great to hear,” he commented with a twinkle in his eye. “Well I hear you’re staying here. I’ll be by to bug you, alright?” 

You laughed at him. “Alright,” you agreed. He gave Shannon a pat on the shoulder as he passed before Shannon gave you a peculiar look. 

“So you going to tell me about you and Gambit right there?” She pointed at the doorway.

You frowned at her. “What about him? We haven’t seen each other since the last time I was here,” you reminded, as if it was obvious. “He just came to say hi. I’m so glad he did,” you gushed.

“Look at you, all gushing like a schoolgirl,” she teased. “Like you didn't notice the twinkle in his eye when he said he found out about you being here,” she remarked just as Bruce walked in to see how both women were doing.

“Hey, Shannon, how are you feeling today?” He walked over to check her vitals. “And you, Y/N? You feeling okay? How’s your energy today?” He turned to her to see her smiling.

“I’m doing okay so far, I just wish we could do this faster,” Shannon replied looking up at him. “Isn’t there a way for me to get more doses?”

“Doing great, doc,” you said with a thumbs up. “I’m a little weak, but I’m hanging in there.” 

“Shannon, you know that’s not possible. You could get worse and I don’t think Y/N would be able to endure for longer periods of time.” He went up closer to her smoothing her hair as he checked her temperature. “Y/N, do you want me to give you a dose of electrolytes to help you re-energize a bit?” He was looking at you while he held Shannon’s wrist feeling her pulse.

Bruce knew he could just check Shannon’s vitals with the tech but he wanted to actually feel her. He had no right as she was married to Tony but he couldn’t help feeling what he felt for her ever since she could get hulk to let him come back when he needed to.

You waved him off. “I appreciate it but I want to hold onto those for when we really need them.”

 “You’re right. I can’t do that to her. She’s already doing so much now to help me get rid of this stuff.”

“Are you sure, Y/N? I have plenty if you need it let me know,” Bruce replied, moving away from Shannon. “Is there anything I can do for you, Shannon?” He hoped he could do more for her than just check her health.

“I’m okay for now, Bruce but thanks for offering.”

While the two spoke, you watched on with bemused eyes, trying to keep a grin off your face. Shannon could say all she wanted about your friendship with Remy, but doc here didn’t have to be here. Hank could check all the vitals, not to mention Jean or any other nurse technician. He wanted to be up close and personal - he always did. You weren’t oblivious to the way he watched her, to the way his lips perked up when she walked into the lab. Bruce was a nice enough guy, but a blind man could see his feelings went beyond nice and friendly for Shannon. 

“Alright, ladies, if you need anything let me know I'll be in the other room working on making this less of a stress on you.” He waved to you and squeezed Shannon’s hand as he left the room.

“God I’m going to get myself into trouble if Tony sees me acting like this with Shannon,” Bruce thought to himself. He shook his head as he walked down the hall. In all the time that he’s known her he’s though she’s been this amazing, kind and caring person. But he knew that he had no chance he saw how she felt about Tony right away. Hopefully with these sessions he might get to be closer to her than before.

You let out a chuckle, making Shannon narrow her eyes at you. 

“What?” she demanded with a smile. 

“Oh, just you… and Dr. Banner,” you sing-songed. 

“What about us?” she asked, as if she didn’t know. 

“You think there’s something between me and Remy? What about you and Dr. Love, huh? He’s in here doing work any nurse or nurse tech could do,” you insisted, thrusting your chin towards the direction Bruce walked off in. 

“Y/N, are you crazy? He doesn’t like me like that. Plus I’m married to Tony.” She rolled her eyes. “He’s just being a good friend, making sure I’m okay… that we are okay,” she changed her wording.

“Right,” you said with a nod. “I forgot people are forbidden to love someone who’s married.” You shot her a challenging look. “Shannon, he barely looked my way,” you continued, whispering. “Haven’t you ever thought that maybe he felt more than friendship? Ever? It’s never made you wonder, or crossed your mind?”

“I have no idea what you're talking about.” She got quiet for a moment thinking back to everything he’s done and such. “Do you really think he likes me like that?” she whispered back. She looked down at her hands feeling wrong for not even noticing. She’d been so focused on everyone else and for christ sake! She’s married to the man of her dreams. What could possibly come of her being aware of his feelings besides feeling like she needs to tiptoe around him?

All you could do was nod. “I think he does. Hey, I’m not here to judge. You love who you love, Shannon, that’s all there is to it. And if you don’t feel the same, well I don’t blame Banner for falling for you. You’re quite the catch,” you assured with a wink. “But no need to stress over it, right? You’re married to Tony, who you love, and Bruce will probably never tell you how he feels so, everything is golden.” 

“Thanks for that, Y/N, but I don't know how it’s going to be when he’s always around. I’m going to be aware of how he treats me. I love Tony so much.” She shook her head. “I just don’t want to get Bruce’s hopes up thinking he might have a chance. He’s always been someone special to me.” She thought of how close they had gotten in the past few years. 

You shrugged. “So don’t let anything change. Think of him like he’s me,” you offered. “Treat him like a friend and there is no worry of getting his hopes up or hurting him. Besides, he knows you love Tony and you’re loyal to him. He’d never come between that. Hell, even if he was madly in love with you, I don’t think he’d do that.”

“Yeah you're right. I don’t know why I'm letting it get to me like this.” She laughed a bit and turned to her side to look at you better. “So Remy, huh?” She did the little eyebrow twitch of hers. “How long have you two been dancing around each other like that?” She smiled.

You laughed as you threw an arm over your eyes. “Shannon,” you chastised. You’d never consciously acknowledged it, but yes, in another life, in another world, in another timeline, Remy would be the type of man you’d go for. Hell, he was kind of your type apparently. An orphaned boy, long forgotten by his parents only to be raised to get into trouble. Trouble making flirts, that’s what you were attracted to. You guessed Shannon was right, you two had been doing this song and dance for a while, but when he wasn’t with someone, you were, and vice versa. The time just never seemed right. It wasn’t like you and Strange. That was a passing, fleeting flirtation in college, but you and Remy’s path seemed to cross many times.

“What, you're not gonna tell me that you don’t see how much he likes you?” she pointed out. “I know, you know. Why haven’t you told me more?” she asked completely curious. Although it wasn't her right to be nosy. “He seems like the type of guy you’d be with aside from the fact that you’re with Loki. Would you have been with Remy this entire time if it hadn’t been for meeting Loki?” 

You turned, facing your best friend, sighing. “You remember when you came to get Thor’s hammer? In New Mexico? You and I agreed I would come back to New York with the data I’d gathered…” You took a deep breath. “I had plans to look up Remy when I got back.” Just saying it made you feel guilty, but it was true. “I love Loki. I think we were meant to find each other, you know? I met him in that crater site… it led me back to my birth parents on Asgard. I found out we were almost raised together…” You let out a small laugh, mainly laughing at yourself. “I don’t think I’d have it any other way, but still… you can’t crush old feelings, right?”

“Yeah I remember you had the crazy idea to go with him.” She giggled, thinking back. “Really! And I’m just finding out.” She looked over to you a little surprised. “Aww, Y/N, I didn’t know you felt like that. I know how much you love Loki and all but how certain are you he feels confident enough to say the same?” She reached her hand out to you. “Guess we’ve both been there. How do you feel now, knowing he’ll be around more often and how Loki hasn’t come by?” She shouldn’t be pushing you but she wanted to know where you stood on all of this.

“I think it’ll be fine. Loki and I are pretty solid. We’ve nearly endured death for each other. He knows my weaknesses and I know his. Can’t say it won’t stir up some old feelings though,” you admitted with a weak smile. 

She nodded in understanding and the two of you made your way to your shared bedroom.

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