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ficsnroses · 4 years

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Pregnancy Headcanons - John Wick x Reader

❧ may be read as a follow up to these.

warnings : pregnancy. smut. morning sickness mention. mega fluff.

words : 2.3k. requested by a lovely anon!

notes : remember ages ago when I said I’d whip these up? I did em! I couldn’t fit all my ideas. lemme know if you’d like to see another one of these with a similar concept. feedback appreciated as always!

I love headcanons. so easy. so carefree. so much to say. don’t forget that you can request headcanons, too! not just full fics or drabbles.

A few weeks ago, John and you found out you were pregnant. Initially, it’s been slightly frightening to know that in a mere nine months or so, John and you will have a baby, a little human, who’s entire world you two will be, and they will be yours in return.

You’re more frightened, being the one carrying your child. You have your fears of not being good enough, or not knowing how to be the utmost perfect mother you can be to your baby.

John, however, is ecstatic. He’s frightened as well; he’s never done this before. Yet, he keeps it under wraps for you. For you, John always puts on a brave face and holds your hand each step of the way.

He goes out of his way to make sure you’re comfortable and well taken care of. So far, your belly isn’t even showing; but there is life inside. John has always treated you as a queen, but it has intensified tenfold after he got you pregnant.

Not a dish in the house is allowed to be washed by you, not a cloth may be touched. John wants to you relax and take it easy, focus on yourself. He truly believes that as long as you’re happy and healthy, the baby will be too.

John has always been an absolute sweetheart; nonetheless, since you’ve gotten pregnant, he’s only gotten lovelier. Many times, you fear you’re dreaming, and may wake up soon. John Wick is quite literally;

too good to be true.

Each morning, he’ll nuzzle into your chest, smiling a goofy grin.

“Morning, beautiful.” He whispers into your hair, peppering soft kisses to your temples and forehead. “And to you too, peanut.” He smiles, heavy hand rested to your growing tummy. John never misses an opportunity to tell you how much he loves you, and your baby. Despite them not even being here yet. He knows that this pregnancy will take a toll on you; he’d wish for more than anything that he could carry the pain instead of you, which is why he showers you with love. He’d never want you to forget how important you are; how much you mean. You’re his entire world and this means more to him than you can imagine.

Morning sickness has been tough. Often, you’ll wake up feeling nauseous, however, you feel secure knowing you have a team player on your side. Occasionally, in the middle of the night when you’re up at 3:00am feeling awful, John helps you out of bed, holding your hair up for you and rubbing small, soothing circles to your back in the washroom.

“I’m going to make you ginger tea, alright babe?” He quietly speaks, leaving a speckled kiss to your shoulder as you freshen up. You feel awful keeping him up this late, John always needs rest due to his gruesome job.

Foot rubs and massages get a lot more common as your tummy grows. John doesn’t mind, he enjoys the intimacy and being close to you.

Speaking of intimacy…

You continue having sex for as long as you can, because you both know that down the road, as your hormones continue to fluctuate and your belly grows, it may not be something you’ll be able to do often.

John and you do, and always have had sex often for as long as you’ve been together. It helps John ease down, calm his nerves and relieve tension. You don’t mind making love to him either, of course. You feel lucky to feel him so close, and to be the only women who feels him that way.

“Close your eyes, Squish,” John whispers a chuckle, a delicate kiss placed to your bare belly, just where your baby rests. His heavier hands gently peel off the fabric of your bottoms, full lips trailing lower, soft kisses pecked to your inner thighs as he nears your heat. “Daddy’s about to do some real nasty things to mommy.”

You’re not sure if its just your hormones, or delicate emotions as of late. Nonetheless, having sex with John has felt…closer since you got pregnant. It truly feels like you’re making the sweetest of love each and every time. He kisses you so sweet, works you so slow, so intimately, so tenderly, it brings tears to your eyes.

Having him inside feels unreal, divine. He only picks up pace nearing climax, his expertise, skill and unmatchable affection never failing to spill you over the edge so well.

As your belly grows bigger and bigger a few months in, going places, and moving is becoming increasingly tough. Grocery trips have become progressively more tiresome; car rides gradually more uncomfortable. John tries his hardest to help, and understands if you snap at him a little too quick or accidentally pick a fight over something minor.

“Can you turn the music down? Please?” You interrupt a serene drive home from the market, voice coaxed with irritation, laced aggravation tinted across all tones. John’s hand rests to your thigh as he drives, his other placed to the thin steering wheel. You’d been complaining about discomfort the entire morning; he felt awful knowing you were in any sort of pain.

“Sorry.” He sighs, hand shifting from your thigh to crank the stereo of his beloved Mustang 69’ down. Passing traffic winds roar outside, the New York buildings passing in towering lengths. John’s palm immedietly rests back to your thigh; smooth, gentle strokes ran across the fabric clad to your lap. His eyes stay focused to the road, yet his hand stays touching you, letting you know he’s there.

That he’ll always be there, no matter how frustrated you get, how intolerable your nagging becomes.

He loves you, and he loves his baby. He’s waited far too long to have this; normalcy, something his, something his own; something created out of love, familiarity. Something he’d lacked for far too long.

“Ugh.” You exhale, after a moment of stretched silence, hand coming up to rub your weary eyes. “I’m being awful, aren’t I?” You whisper, saddened eyes locking to your husband’s street bound orbs. He turns momentarily to lock eyes, a gentle smile your way.

“No, sweetheart.” He assures, grip on your thigh tightening. You groan, rebutting. “No, John. I am. I’m sorry.” You sigh, reaching both your hands down to your lap to engulf his, holding his hand in a soft grip. You rub the top of his palm, relaxing, playing with his sturdier fingers. “I love you. I really do.” Sincerely, your eyes stay focused to his well defined features, the dark beard that rides his cheek.

And to the sound of your guilty voice, John chuckles, securing your hand in his, before brining it up to his lips for a soft kiss.

“I know.”

John has come to all your ultrasound appointments; he wouldn’t miss them for the world. He holds your hand the entire time, signature goofy smile daubed to his smoky features.

The first ultrasound was incredibly emotional, you shed a couple of tears. John and you stare at the screen, a pea sized dot resting in the darkened frame. John’s hand holds yours so tight, so warm, you’d felt as if you could feel him within you. Like he was this significant, big part of you that you would cherish forever. Seeing him smile that day will be a sight you’ll never forget; a mural you’ll never surrender.

Through out your time together, over the timeline of your love, you’ve only seen John this way a handful of times. This happiness was different; held something sole, matchless. This was pure happiness, where nothing else tinted the depths of his thoughts. No insecurities, no doubts, no ghosts of his past. Apart from the day you said yes to marrying him, and the day of your wedding, you don’t remember John ever being this unconditionally, purely, happy.

You both sit on the couch later that night, John’s arms holding you close as your head lays to his broad chest, staring, smiling at the picture of your dream; the one that would conquer your entire hearts when they’d come.

John keeps a copy of the ultrasound picture in his wallet. He takes a moment to look at it, to remember what he has any time he needs a pick me up throughout the day.

John takes amazing care of you, your needs always before his. He monitors your eating and drinking, to make sure you and the baby are healthy. He gives you your supplements; you often forget the times throughout the day you need to take them.

Speaking of food…

Midnight cravings have become a usual for you. Normally, you suffice for waddling down to the kitchen, sure not to disturb your snoozing husband.

Gently removing his arm from your waist, you always smile a gentle, loving glaze his way. John sleeping is a sight you’ve come to adore over the years.

John at peace; is a sight you’ve come to adore. He deserves rest, he deserves peace.

Although, its tough not to wake John. More often than not, he’ll find you in the kitchen in the AM dark, smiling a cheeky grin as you devour left over dinner, or a questionable choice of midnight snack.

He’ll come up behind you, wrapping his arms snoozily around your mid, hands placed to your tummy. With a gentle kiss to the back of your head and his warm chest pressed to your back, his sleep thick, honey seared voice rasps a tender baritone in your neck.

“Hungry?” He’ll chuckle, quiet and warm. You only nod, lacing your hand to his that rests on your belly.

Of course, there have been rare nights where you crave something that isn’t in the fridge. John never turns you down, however. No matter how tired, how sleepy he is, he ventures to your local 24-hour market, or gas station in search of whatever you’d yearned.

“Should I come with you?” You bite your lip, pulling the comforter of your shared bed higher up your chest as you sit up. “I’m sorry I’m making you go out.” You frown, insecure. “But I just can’t stop thinking about how I just need a candy bar right now.”

John’s brown leather jacket shrugs onto his shoulders, and his lips smile your way, picking his wallet up off the night stand.

“Get some rest, sweetheart. I’ll be quick.” He whispers, a kiss to your forehead before he’s out the door, blinking away sleep dense orbs.

For you, he’d wake a thousand nights. A million slumbers may waste away.

Slowly, you build the nursery for your baby. John works away, painting once crisp white walls into something more pastel, something that would welcome your child with joyful colour.

John has definitely become more talkative over the pregnancy.

He never misses out on a chance to kiss your belly, or talk to them.

“I’ll be back soon.” He announces, car keys armed in his sturdy fingers. With a kiss to your lips, he smiles. “I love you, don’t forget it.”

“Hurry back please.” You frown, a light whine coated to your tone. John only nods, slightly dropping to his knee in front of you, a quick, brief kiss placed to your tummy. “Keep mommy company, squish.” He tells your belly, a quiet, barely audible ‘daddy loves you’ Fled into the air, before he’s up, his hold on your hand let go as you walk him to the door, wishing him a wonderful day with a final kiss to his cheek.

You shop for cribs, toys, decorations all together. John looks incredibly handsome building the crib, painting the walls, asking exactly where you wanted everything to be placed. You watch him from your rocking chair in the corner, a hand to your belly as you talk to John the entire time, about anything, and everything.

John is a wonderful listener. Together, you two often talk about your future. A future where you’ll move away somewhere out of town,

Somewhere closer to the water, down the road. Somewhere where John’s ghastly pasts wont haunt him no more; somewhere you’ll grow old together with a white picket fence, and a story.

Your story, that you’ll tell you grandkids someday, when you’re old and gray, slightly slower; but still, hopelessly in love.

John adores talking to the baby. On secluded, rainy evenings, or when the sun sets out the mauve horizon and the trees bid goodnight to cotton clouds, John and you lounge on the couch, a thick, heavy novel equipped in John’s palm as he reads to you, and your tummy.

With his head resting on your lap, you stroke his lengthy coffee mane, fully engaged, lost in his mélange voice; smoky and rich, beautifully saccharine. Your thumbs coax his tired temples; gently scratching his stubble ridden cheek when you please. Every now and then, John’s glowing eyes peer up, glossing over your features.

He looks lovely like this, at ease, immersed in art.

To you, he is the loveliest of art. He’s a story, he’s a piece of Neverland. He’s your love story, and it’s one,

for the ages;

your love is one for the ages.

Sometimes, he’ll fall asleep this way, head resting in your lap as you stroke his hair. Him and the baby rest together, so close to you.

This was what it meant to have true, wholesome, pure, purpose. To have security, to have something truly, only, yours.

They were yours.

Pregnancy would be tough. It would be a journey, things would change, you would change. But you weren’t scared, for a single moment.

Because you knew, that you had your dream, your mountain of a man beside you, holding your hand,

Each step,

Of the way.

And you knew, you knew well. That the day your baby comes, they will have the most amazing, wonderful father who loves them, and their mommy to the ends of the world, and back.

You’d felt love before, you’d had everything before.

But with this, with what you’ve made, with John; it falls incomparable.

He’s the love that made all the others,

Irrelevant.

➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴

My taglist will be posted in reblogs, let me know if you want to be added or removed! :)

#john wick x reader #keanu reeves x reader #john wick fanfiction #keanu reeves fanfiction #john wick x you

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metalbvcky · 4 years

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*Shows up late to the Stucky/Marvel fandom Post-EG with Starbucks and dozens of fics that I’ve read in hand* So you guys like fanfiction?

Yeah so, because of quarantine I’ve been consuming a ton of fic. I’ve probably read over 1.5 million words in just a couple months. So why not share what I’ve been reading! Note that some of these are older (popular) fics so veteran Stucky peeps will probably know of them since I not too recently delved into the realm that is Stucky fanfic. :)

Down below are over a dozen fics with different tropes, Canon/AU’s, and what not. Please do heed the tags on some of these. For the curious: My AO3 bookmarks.

Also shoutout to @stuckylibrary, the mods over there are doing the lords work.

Key: ♥ = My fave, S = Smut, DS = Dom/Sub

Heroes are Easy, People are Hard ♥ by Halbereth, Lorien - Words: 152,284 | CW Fix It, Slight Canon Divergence, Recovery, Slow Burn

Shuri and Wanda cleared Bucky's triggers shortly after Killmonger's attempted coup, and he and Steve went on the run. But it turns out there's more to "fixing Bucky's head" than "getting Hydra out of it." When a group of rogue scientists manage to neutralize the serum and make Steve very sick--pre-serum "this is bad" kind of sick--and they're cut off from contact with Wakanda, Bucky knows only one person with resources to help. He calls Tony and surrenders on the condition that Tony tries to help Steve.

From there, it's basically three variously messed-up guys’ trajectories from "This Is Fine", "Reasonably Speaking I Know It’s Fine", "I Will Be Fine With It" to actually being fine, guest-starring a far-better-adjusted teenage boy who climbs walls, a 1957 Ford Thunderbird, two women with a keen sense of the absurd, and Bruce, the Zen master of “it’s fine that it’s not fine.” Add in the fact that Bucky's been secretly in love with Steve since the thirties and things only get harder. Learning to be a person is the hardest thing Bucky Barnes will ever have to do--but he's got company along the way.

Reap The Whirlwind by Cristinuke - Words: 18,221 | Canon Universe, Post CW, Domestic

Bucky finds a cat. Or rather, a cat finds him.

Your Favorite Ghost by augustbird - Words: 21,013 | Canon Divergence, Post TWS

It's harder than Steve ever expected to bring Bucky home.

Despite the threatening sky and shuddering earth (they remained) ♥ by praximeter (Zimario) - Words: 71,532 | Canon Divergence TWS, Body Modifications

“They really didn’t want the mask to come off.” Hill thumbed through the scans, and pulled out a film that she then handed over to Sam, face mostly expressionless but for the flat line of her pursed lips.

Sam accepted the film and held it up to the light, angling so both he and Steve could see it, squinting at the outline of the Winter Soldier’s skull, and the blips of unnatural white that showed up, God, in his brain, not to mention about half his teeth, plus the mask, with its thin protrusions—

“Those are pins,” Steve realized. He looked over at Hill. “The mask—it’s nailed to his face.”

Hill’s face was as unmoved as ever. “Like I said. They really didn’t want it coming off.”

This city bleeds its aching heart ♥ by Renne - Words: 34,537 | Canon Universe, Fake/Pretend Relationship

The one where Steve and Bucky pose as a happily married couple while on a mission for SHIELD, to catch an international arms dealer hiding in a suburban neighbourhood.

The Best Way to Wake ♥ by LeeHan - Words: 42,293 | Post TFA, Canon Divergence TWS, Recovery

James Buchanan Barnes lay in a glass pod in the middle of the table, frozen since he fell. Steve’s hands were on the glass before he realized he’d moved. “Wait, Captain!” “Get him out,” Steve whispered, his hands searching for a clasp, a keypad, something. “Captain, we need to keep him in stasis—“ “I said get him out!”

Infinite Coffee and Protection Detail ♥ series by owlet - Words: 264,438 | Canon Divergence (sort of)

The mission resets abruptly, from objective: kill to objective: protect

Undersell, overcommit by silentwalrus - Words: 10,222 | Canon Universe

Steve goes so hard for Bucky that he becomes a licensed, practicing massage therapist.

Sparked Up Like a Book of Matches by Sena - Words: 26,734 | Post-TWS, Canon Universe

Steve lives in Stark Tower and doesn't have much to do when he's not going after Hydra strongholds. He attends charity events to make Pepper happy. He goes hiking with Sam. He hangs out with Clint in Bed-Stuy and watches Dog Cops. Sometimes Tony gives him super alcohol in a sippy cup. Sometimes he sees Bucky out of the corner of his eye and wonders if it's real or if he's starting to lose his mind.

Alternately, the one with terrible jokes, a foot chase through the Lower East Side, and a tiny little robot named Shitcan.

Sugar Sweet ♥ from the Red Velvet series by ColorCoated - Words: 173,400 | Modern/Sugar Daddy AU, Age Difference, Slow Burn

"What's your name?" It wasn't even a line. He was just pretty and Bucky wanted a name to go with that face. With that strong jawline. With those deep blue eyes. A little smirk, "Steve."

Awww, Steve. He looked like a Steve. Bucky pursed his lips in a way he hoped was attractive, "You should buy me a drink."

College Student Bucky finds himself immediately attracted to Steve. He knows that Steve's a bit older than him, and that Steve himself is put off by the age difference. . . But that doesn't stop Bucky from wanting to climb him like a tree.

Steve and Bucky Go Away for the Weekend (and cook a lot) ♥ by E_Greer - Words: 30,126 | Canon Universe, Domestic

In which Steve coaxes Bucky out of the Tower for a birthday weekend away and sweet, fluffy domesticity ensues. Phlintasha helps keep Bucky calm, Steve has Opinions about how you set the table, stories are told, greenhouses are toured, baths are had, books are read, tears are shed, stars are gazed upon, and everyone makes Bucky feel loved. Includes Friday night dinner, Saturday morning breakfast, Saturday lunch, Saturday dinner, and Sunday brunch.

Dona Nobis Pacem by thegraytigress - Words: 65,214 | Canon Universe, Recovery

"This job... We try to save as many people as we can. Sometimes it doesn't mean everybody, but if we can't find a way to live with that... Next time maybe nobody gets saved."

An incident on the battlefield exposes how much Steve's falling apart under the crushing weight of leading the Avengers after Sokovia. Now Bucky's adopting a new mission: save Steve before he destroys himself completely, even if it means the end of Captain America.

Give 'Em Hope ♥ by L1av - Words: 130,022 | Modern/Hospital AU, UA/Age Difference

Dr. Steve Rogers likes to think that if his patients have hope- their chances of survival will increase. Bucky Barnes has a 20% chance of survival and a desperate yearning to experience life. Against Steve's better judgment, he develops a relationship with his patient. It's illegal. It's wrong. But it's giving Bucky the hope to keep going, so Steve's going to keep giving it, because he wants Bucky to survive. He needs him to.

You belong (to me) by hermionesmydawg - Words: 29,759 | S, DS, Canon Compliant, Post CW

"Hold on." Bucky lifted a finger and backed out of the doorway, returning a moment later with his cell phone. He snapped a photo of Steve, typed a few words, and then returned to his apple. "What the hell were you doing at a sex club last night?"

"Not having sex, if that's what you're wondering." An alert sounded from Steve's nightstand - a new Snapchat message. He rolled his eyes and unlocked his phone. Sam was always sending stupid Snapchats and frankly, Steve couldn't figure that goddamn app out and cursed whoever created that piece of shit.

The chat wasn't from Sam this time, however. It was a picture of himself, not looking guilty at all, with the caption "when your buddy catches you looking at p*rn."

Circling Back from the It’s Not Linear series by chaya - Words: 59,642 (Series Total: 136,782) | Canon Divergence

Steve looks for Bucky, Bucky finds Steve, Steve tries desperately to put Bucky back together. Bucky tries desperately to let him.

Continuing Education by 743ish, romanticalgirl - Words: 14,443 | S, Canon Universe/College, Shrunkyclunks

Steve is invited to be a guest lecturer on the WWII unit for Bucky's college course. Bucky's more than happy to glean any extra knowledge (in more than just history) from Steve, and Steve's happy to eductate him. But then Bucky has to decide if he can handle the fact that Steve throws himself into danger, and if the sex is worth it. Or if it's not just sex anymore.

Salt & Sugar by GoldBlooded, stfustucky - Words: 19,598 | Modern/Restaurant AU

Steve Rogers is a bigshot celebrity chef in New York City, and Bucky Barnes is a classically trained pastry chef in Moscow.

When billionaire and mutual friend Natasha Romanoff calls on them to collaborate for her Memorial Day Benefit Gala, they both brace themselves to spend the week working with some jerk they're bound to hate. Except... Steve makes a burger that could bring Bucky to tears, and Bucky makes tartlets so beautiful Steve's sure they qualify as art. Maybe, just maybe, together they could make this a night to remember.

@/sgtbarnes1917 and @/cptrogers1918 by BayleyWinchester - Words: 114,203 | Canon Universe, Social Media Fic

Bucky Barnes broke Twitter with one photo

Proprietary Information ♥ from the Additional Information series by notlucy - Words: 85,141 (Series Total: 165,871) | Modern AU, Age difference, Slow Burn

Okay, so Bucky Barnes has a crush on Steve Rogers. The guy's gorgeous, talented and, oh yeah, the Chief Design Officer of the biggest tech company in the world. In other words: he's so far out of Bucky's league that he might as well be in a different stratosphere.

Deep in the Woods (Where My Heart Has Been Waiting) by SilverMyfanwy - Words: 15,353 | Pioneer-AU, Shrinkyclinks

Steve Rogers gets lost in the woods in a snowstorm. Bucky Barnes takes him in. Pioneer-era AU ish with Shrinkyclinks, evil chickens and a cabin in the woods.

A Bucky Odyssey by inediblesushi, thorstbench - Words: 9,952 | Shrinkyclinks, Cap!Bucky, Nurse!Steve

Bucky Barnes, Captain America, has a plan to make Steve Rogers, SHIELD nurse, fall in love with him. Confiding in the Internet might not be the best idea, though. So when the bad pick up lines do not work and Steve looks determined to staying single, he decides to be more himself and less what he thinks he should be.

At first I wanted to wait to post this until I finished a few more fics from my ever growing read-later list but what the heck, now or never! I’ll probably end up making a part 2 reclist by the amount of fic I’m reading these days.

Happy reading and stay safe out there fellow Stucky trash members!!

#stucky #stucky fanfic #stucky fic rec #stucky fanfic rec #stucky fic #stucky fanfiction #stucky au #marvel fanfic #steve x bucky #my reclist #long post for ts #wow this is over a million words worth of fic + that doesnt include everything else ive read omg #the amount of talent in the destiel and stucky fandoms are insanely incredible #a total of 21 fics and at least 5 are apart of a series ... thats a lot of words

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lightsonparkave · 4 years

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO LIGHTS ON PARK AVE! WE’RE OFFICIALLY A ONE-YEAR-OLD BABY (our birthday was on the 22nd). Join the celebrations by submitting a work! There’s one week left until Round 12 closes on August 31, and you have 80 prompts to choose from. There are no minimum work requirements or limit to how many works you can submit.

Not sure you can finish your work in time? Little messages are great presents too. What has the past year of Lights on Park Ave been like for you? Do you have a favorite prompt or round? A favorite LoPA work? Want to make a rec list of your favorites or wax poetic and show some love for a specific work and/or creator? Go for it. Let the Steve/Tony community know! The LoPA askbox is open or if you want to make your own Tumblr post or tweet, you can mention @lightsonparkave or tag #lightsonparkave. Whatever method you choose, I’ll make sure to share your message/post on here and Twitter.

Or maybe you’re not up to making anything this time. In that case, let’s take a walk down memory lane. Here are all 46 Lights on Park Ave works for previous rounds.

ART

3490 & 616

A comparison between 616 Civil War and universe 3490 where the war was averted by the marriage of Steve Rogers and Natasha Stark - @jarvisuanddumetoo

ANY UNIVERSE

A framed portrait of a smiling Tony, drawn and signed by Steve - @hundredthousands

Steve steals his husband’s helmet and gives his king a springtime crown - @starksnack

Tin soldier Steve and ballerina Tony dancing - @jarvisuanddumetoo

BATTLEWORLD

Steve watching Tony flying in on the battlefield - @thingexplainer

MCU

Old Steve holding flowers and seeing a blue butterfly after Tony’s death - @hundredthousands

So much of life feels like drowning... but when I’m with you my troubles recede like waves on the shore - @jarvisuanddumetoo

Stranger Things AU where Steve is the one who was experimented on in a lab and doesn’t understand pop culture and Tony is the guy with no powers who is still doing his best to fight these weird new aliens - @jarvisuanddumetoo

Steve and a dandelion that represents him weathering all his hardships over the years - @jarvisuanddumetoo

Tony on fire and Steve’s reaction - @jarvisuanddumetoo

Steve crying while holding Tony’s helmet after Tony’s funeral - @noririna

I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. You’re a hero. - @starksnack

ULTIMATES

Steve and Tony leaving marks on each other’s bodies that are only visible in the dark - @sirsapling Ults Steve and Tony are tragically bound to one another. They can always feel the trace of each others hands, it leaves an invisible mark they will cary with them till there is nothing left. Only a ghost of something lost in the chaos of the past.

FIC

1872

Say My Name - @citsiurtlanu Steve reminds Tony that there's more to him than the war his weapons were used in.

616

Snow Day - @captainneverever The Avengers think that Steve and Tony got engaged at the annual holiday party. It’s news to Steve and Tony.

Kiss me rough before you go - erde Tony is dying. His life is slipping away and Steve wants to be better than this, but he can't quite manage the feat. Tony's war has made a bitter man out of him, a lesser man.

Boys, boys, boys - Missy_dee811 (@viudanegraaa) (AU) Steve keeps putting off his oil change. Finally deciding to see the mechanic in town.

Without the rusty music of my machine - Missy_dee811 (@viudanegraaa) Tony was lying on the hood of his car. He had taken off his leather jacket, gently folded it in half, and draped it across the windshield so he could rest his arms on the supple leather.

Muddy Waters - RossKL (@but-damn-is-he-lovable) (also on Tumblr) Tony bleeds. It's not real.

ANY

(A Dream is) A Wish Your Heart Makes - @helovedyou Cool evenings together and laughing free and all the nice things Tony never thought he’d get

Afternoon Off - Neverever (@captainneverever) Freedom is just another word for getting with your boyfriend on the downlow during a mission.

BULLET POINTS

Those We Were (For A While) - sadisticsparkle The blueprints hadn’t prepared Tony for the light bouncing off the battered metal, for the empty stare of its empty eye sockets or the dim circle in the middle of the chest. He traced its lines with his gaze, remembering every day he had spent hunched over the schematics picking its inner workings and every night he had spent sprawled under its pilot letting him take Tony apart.

MCU

border state - @areiton (also on Tumblr) They exist in the in between.

star crossed - @areiton (also on Tumblr) "The gods made the stars,” you whisper, a lifetime ago, a heartbeat ago, now, “and they were so bright, so beautiful and strong, that they ripped them in two. And half of ‘em fell to earth, and woke from the dust and walked as men.”

this is how - @areiton (also on Tumblr) This is how the world ends: Gaps in the code.

kiss me hard before you go - duckmoles & starxreactor (AU) “I love you, you know that?” Tony says just after popping another grape into Steve’s mouth. He watches as Steve’s jaw works, chewing and then swallowing. Steve smiles up at Tony with a bright, toothy grin. “I love you, too.” “I’m going to miss you,” Tony continues. “I’m going to call you everyday, okay? And—and, during the holidays I’ll show up at your house and we can—we can—sit together on the balcony, and—” The last day of summer, and it's time to hold on to what you might lose.

No Winter Lasts Forever - Fluffypanda (@ayapandagirl) Steve stopped, white breath clouding the air around him, to look at the little shoots of green and purple peeking out from the scant layer of snow left on the ground.

snippet of a post-apocalyptic A/B/O AU WIP - Fluffypanda (@ayapandagirl) Steve’s fingers traced the bite, a half-moon of red marks, from in front of the largest mirror he’d ever seen.

the first blush of morning - Fluffypanda (@ayapandagirl) (AU) The sun rises on the Atlantic ocean and Steve isn't alone - or is he?

Santa Paws - @heartsandmuses [I]f there were two things the public couldn’t get enough of, it was cute puppies and shirtless Captain America — and Tony, ever the philanthropist, decided to give the people exactly what they wanted, right on Christmas morning.

Philautia - @helovedyou Tony dies and Steve keeps on living. Well. He doesn’t die. Living might be a bit of a generous term

To the Victor - @helovedyou There are rainbows flying and people hugging and others ranting and raving, spittle flying, he thinks this. We have won this, this tiny victory.

Snippet of a WIP set post-IW - @ishipallthings The numbers keep climbing, for hours, in the aftermath.

Shuffle Off This Mortal Coil - jellybeanforest (@jellybeanforest-a-go-go) (also a Cap-IM Bingo 2020 round 1 fic) Tony hadn’t been a cruel man, but he had been a practical one. Or: In his twilight years, concerned about how his slow-aging possibly-immortal husband will adjust to his death, Tony builds an AI version of himself that he updates nightly, intending for it to keep Steve company after he’s gone. When the inevitable comes to pass, Steve doesn’t know what to make of the AI or whether its presence lessens his grief or makes it significantly worse. He’s leaning towards the latter.

Five Bells - @lazywriter7 (also on Tumblr) After returning the Stones, Steve takes a detour through time.

if we’re gonna heal, let it be glorious - @littlemissstark forgiveness. The salty air was intense enough to wake Steve up completely, snapping any left over drowsiness away. He was alert despite the sky still being a shade of navy that tapered into a purple at the sea’s horizon. The world was still dormant, but Steve couldn’t stay asleep – not when he woke to coldness on the right side of the bed and empty arms.

In My Hands and Gone Again - @nostalgicatsea (also on Tumblr) Memories were like fish, Tony had explained, or the tease of one. A flash of silver, and his hands would plunge down. Sometimes he would catch one; other times, it would dart out of reach. He wouldn’t be sure whether it had been real or just a trick of the light, after.

Leaving You Forward - @nostalgicatsea (AU) It would be easy, staying here like this with Tony. But Steve knew he couldn't—because he had never taken the easy way out and because he loved Tony.

i choose: me, you, us - @onlymorelove (also a Cap-IM Remix Madness 2020 fic) “We, uh. We’ve been together five years, and you’ve never— I’ve never let you see it. I told you I’d let you see it on our wedding night.” In which Tony and Steve marry, but Tony hasn't let Steve see the arc reactor—and the scars around it. Yet.

best of summers gone - rosycheeked (@lovelyisthedawn) Tony's favorite month has always been August.

when we all fall asleep - rosycheeked (@lovelyisthedawn) Tony wakes up and questions why Steve loves him. It's a surprisingly complex question for such a simple answer.

you anchor me (back down) - rosycheeked (@lovelyisthedawn) Steve still loves Tony, no matter what mask he’s wearing. He’ll never tell Tony that, though. He’s read enough books and watched enough movies to know that it only ends well when it’s just a story. Or, everyone needs an anchor sometimes, and Steve and Tony just happen to be each others’.

take me to the feeling - smalltonystark (@theotherwasdeath) Steve looks gorgeous in the lights. He always looks stunning, but here, late at night, in the faint glow from the streetlamps underneath them and underneath the stars, he looks magnificent.

POETRY

A Toast to Cold, Hard Facts - @onlymorelove (also on Tumblr) The world is brutal and coarse, but...

Love was fading stars - @onlymorelove (also on AO3) Blackout poetry based on “Failing and Flying” by Jack Gilbert on top of an original print.

not married - @onlymorelove (also on Tumblr) Grief works in mysterious ways.

#lightsonparkave #announcement #stevetony #stony #superhusbands #if anything looks wonky or is missing Tumblr has been acting up #every time I fix something it erases something else #so please know that I didn't intentionally leave you off if your work is missing or miscategorize you #if your universe disappears! :(

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bookdancerfics · 4 years

Text

in the summer day, a BNHA Whumptober fic

No 3. MY WAY OR THE HIGHWAY Manhandled | Forced to their Knees | Held at Gunpoint

Summary: Kirishima’s never been held hostage before now, but it’s not something he’s a fan of, especially when his quirk isn’t working.

Warnings: non-consensual drug use (temporary quirk destroying drug), guns

Rated T, Kiribaku, 1.7k+ Words. cross-posted to ao3 and ff.net (Bookdancer)

Maybe it’s cliché, but Kirishima’s day doesn’t start terribly. They’re a quarter of the way through their third year at UA, and after so long living with each other Class 3-A knows everyone else’s habits as well as they’ll ever know anyone’s. Bakugou and Midoriya are the first to rise, almost as if they enjoy making it a competition just to see who can reach the kitchen, and breakfast, the fastest. This is true whether it’s a weekday or a weekend. On Saturdays, like today, Kirishima is one of the last ones down, Fatgum’s agency being closer than most allowing him to sleep in.

Once downstairs, already dressed in his hero uniform, he greets the other slow goers—Ashido, Uraraka, and Aoyama have similarly close internships, and Shinsou’s hours run later as an underground hero, though he’s not always up by now.

“Morning, Red Riot!” Uraraka says. Like him, she’s already in uniform, her helmet at the end of the table as she eats.

“Morning, Uravity!” Kirishima pokes his head into the fridge and grabs a covered plate with a sticky note on it. It reads RR, all you other extras BACK OFF, and Kirishima can’t help but grin when he sees it.

“Someone’s got a crush,” Aoyama teases, smiling. He’s at the table with Uraraka, right across from Ashido. Shinsou is the only one missing of their group, likely still sleeping.

Kirishima’s grin only widens; he and Bakugou have been dating since they were second years. “That’s been established, are we still making the same jokes?”

Ashido cackles and throws a grape at him, and Kirishima catches it in his mouth, laughing, before pulling the saran wrap off the plate and starting in on his food.

Their small group doesn’t separate till the train station, Ashido and Uraraka heading off together while Aoyama and Kirishima go solo. When Kirishima finally arrives at Fatgum’s agency he finds the place in organized chaos. Fatgum waves him over with a grim smile, already leading the group out the door, and Kirishima falls in place next to Suneater.

“We’re teaming up with Miruko and The Lurkers,” Fatgum explains. “There’s been a series of heists at high-end labs recently that Kamui Woods got a lead on, and we’re going in on what we believe to be their hideout.”

Kirishima nods, bouncing a little on his toes as he walks. It’s been awhile since he participated in a large hero team-up, and with Bakugou with Miruko and Kaminari and Sero both with The Lurkers, it will also be one of the first times he works as a hero with so many of his best friends at once. And, like the beginning of his day, the start of the raid goes well. The group of thieves are hidden out in a large, bunker style building with multiple corridors and places to get lost, so the pro-heroes separate everyone off into groups to search the place. As third years they’re allowed a bit more leniency and trust, and Kaminari and Sero go off together while Kirishima joins Bakugou.

They take the back half of the second floor, Fatgum and Edgeshot in the front. Kirishima knows they’re staying close by on the off chance there’s trouble but, despite the fact that The Lurkers had reported their information with utter confidence, they don’t see much of anyone besides the dark grey halls and even darker doorways. Bakugou fiddles with one of his bracers, and Kirishima repeatedly switches his quirk on and off.

“Just our luck no one will show, huh?” Bakugou says, scowling.

Kirishima just smiles at him. “C’mon, Blasty, it’s not so bad. We can’t be the ones to save the day every day, after all.”

“Course we can,” Bakugou scoffs. His lips are twitching, though, like he wants to smile but won’t, and Kirishima bumps shoulders with him, grinning.

He turns, going to check the next room, and finds himself face to face with someone he’s only seen in the packet Fatgum gave him that very afternoon. Stunned, Kirishima lets out a shout and barges into the room. He’s just activating his quirk when something sharp pierces his neck and he reels back, one hand clamped over the puncture wound. Bakugou roars by him, obviously pissed, and Kirishima stumbles to a halt with his back to the corridor wall. He still has the perfect view of the room inside, of Bakugou fighting amidst his explosions, of the villain answering back with some sort of scale quirk. Kirishima gets a glimpse of claws, and teeth, and from there it’s easy to guess that the guy shares a bit more in common with alligators than the average person.

A syringe drops from the tussle and rolls to a stop in the doorway—empty.

Kirishima stares at it. Much like the alligator quirk, it’s not hard to connect the dots. Whatever was in the syringe is now running through Kirishima’s veins, and whatever it is can’t be anything good. He tests his quirk, just in case, and his heart sinks when his skin doesn’t harden. But all he can do now is hope it’s not permanent, and Bakugou needs his help, so he gets to his feet ready to dive back into the fray.

A gun answers him.

“My luck is terrible today,” Kirishima says, staring at the guy behind the gun. Like alligator-quirk-guy, he’s scaly, but his tongue flicks out, forked, obviously belonging to a snake.

“C’mon, then,” Snake says. He flicks the gun briefly, pointing Kirishima back to the room with Bakugou. Alligator is almost down, and Kirishima winces, knowing Bakugou would normally win this fight. But the gun presses at his forehead, cold, and there’s not a lot he can do.

Bakugou doesn’t stop fighting when he steps into the room, or when the gun follows. Kirishima wishes he could see Snake’s face, or at least wait for Bakugou to take down Alligator, but the gun presses harder against his head, forcing him to either catch Bakugou’s attention or wait for the gun to actually go off. And as much as he trusts his quirk to catch most of the damage of a bullet, he’s not very fond of the idea of trying it out without his quirk.

“Ground Zero,” he says, and Bakugou stops, deflecting one last blow from Alligator and then turning. His gaze flicks from Kirishima, to the gun, to Alligator, Snake, and then Kirishima again. Kirishima tries to smile, but judging by the way Bakugou’s hands start to set off mini explosions, he’s not entirely successful.

“Shitty Hair,” Bakugou answers.

The gun shoves against Kirishima’s head, jolting him forward a bit.

“Red here has something to say,” Snake sneers.

Kirishima swallows. “They took away my quirk.”

Bakugou’s gaze goes to the syringe, his skin paling, and Kirishima hates that he’s done this, that he’s reduced Bakugou to some chess piece to be moved around. But with Snake so focused on him, there’s not a lot either of them can do.

“We’ll be going now,” Snake says. “If either of you try anything, I blow Red’s brains out.”

“It’s Red Riot, jackass,” Bakugou snaps. In the next moment he’s moving, though, walking past Snake all while shooting the crook a dirty look.

They go down the hall in a line, Bakugou and then Kirishima, Snake with the gun at Kirishima’s head, and finally Alligator. This is where the villains made a mistake, though, because the second Kirishima spots Fatgum at the end of the corridor he stops being complicit.

He shoves himself forward, taking Bakugou to the floor with him. As he goes there’s a loud bang behind him, a burst of pain above one ear, and Bakugou howls his outrage. Kirishima doesn’t really see where the bullet goes, isn’t sure if it lodges in a wall or ceiling or if Fatgum catches it, harmless, but he and Bakugou are still alive and he counts that as a win, especially with Fatgum storming their way, Edgeshot on his heels, and Bakugou rolling to his feet.

Kirishima doesn’t even bother getting up; he throws himself at Snake’s ankles, taking him out like an American football player. Even without his quirk, even with his head pounding and ears ringing and blood dripping hot to his neck, it’s incredibly satisfying to kick the gun away and restrain Snake. When he looks up Edgeshot is already securing Alligator and Bakugou looks angry about not getting one last hit in.

“Riot,” Fatgum says, and Kirishima turns to look at him, grinning even as he wobbles.

“Hey, Fat. We got ‘em.”

Fatgum’s returning smile is strained, but he claps Kirishima on the shoulder. “Give Edgeshot your man, you should go get checked out. Ground Zero and I will finish up here.”

Bakugou gives Fatgum an angry look, probably not happy about being separated from Kirishima, but even Bakugou knows by now that he shouldn’t let a fellow hero go off alone. Kirishima’s kind of proud of him for that.

“I’ll see you outside, bro, promise,” Kirishima says. He holds out his hand for a fist-bump, still doing his best to smile.

Bakugou rolls his eyes. “Stop calling me bro, Shitty Hair,” he grumbles, but he bumps his fist against Kirishima’s and Kirishima knows the real complaint here is not “we’re not bros,” but “why are you calling me bro when we’re dating,” which he can kind of understand. But—

“Never,” he says, and Bakugou’s lips curve just slightly upward.

In the end there’s not a lot else to do; the other three villains in the heist crew are secured on the first and third floor, and Bakugou fusses over Kirishima all the way to the hospital, not that Bakugou would ever admit to it. But he holds Kirishima’s hand tighter than he normally would, and refuses to leave his side again, not even once. And, after the bullet graze has already been healed by a doctor’s quirk and he asks, something full in his chest, if Bakugou will kiss it better, Bakugou only rolls his eyes once before pressing his lips to the new scar.

“How does it look?” Kirishima asks.

Bakugou hums, squeezes his hand. “Badass. Just like you.”

And hey. He’s stuck in yet another hospital bed, but maybe Kirishima’s day doesn’t end terribly, either.

#whumptober2020 #no.3 #held at gunpoint #boku no hero academia #fic #non-consensual drug use tw #guns tw #kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #kiribaku #bnha fic #bnha fanfiction #boku no hero fanfic #my fic #mine

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himbowelsh · 4 years

Note

Tough choice but may as well go in order. Guarnere, please. Thank you.

valentines day alphabet ( accepting! )

A : AFFECTION. how does your muse show affection?

Bill is very verbal about his affection. When he cares for someone, he’ll say it loud and proud. He’s always had a big mouth, but that just means he ain’t shy about telling people exactly how he feels --- and he’s liberal with praise, when it’s earned. He also shows affection by standing by people, having their backs through anything. If Bill will fight for someone, it means they’re worth it; if he fights with someone, it means he loves them.

B : BOUQUET. does your muse like flowers? which ones are their favourite?

*confused Guarnere noises* what the fuck is a flower Look. He’ll go to the florist, flirt with her a little bit, and pick up something nice. That’s the best he can do. He can look very handsome marching up with a bouquet in hand, but don’t ask him what the hell’s in it.

C : CHOCOLATE. does your muse like chocolate? which one is their favourite?

He’s not a fan of most chocolates. To be honest his nonna used to make her own --- she had a recipe for sweet chocolate that was to die for, and Little Billy was her favorite taste-tester. Compared to hers, store-bought chocolate just don’t cut it.

D : DATE. what is your muse’s ideal date? where / who with / etc?

Let him handle everything and he’ll be a happy man. Let him cook the dinner himself --- he’s got a special love for cooking, especially when his partner’s gonna be enjoying it --- let him arrange the table, let him choose the music, let him decide where they roll around at the end of the night. Bill likes being in charge. Granted, he’s drawn to partners who give him a run for his money in that department... but his ideal date would be an intimate night in, just the two of them, all planned out by yours truly.

E : EMBRACE. does your muse like hugs? what are their hugs like?

Bill hugs like a football coach. Very enthusiastic, kinda rough, lots of back patting and “good job, son” energy. He’s... not good at tender hugs. If he’s trying to pump someone up, sure, he can manage that, but... hugging somebody to comfort them? He’s not so good at that. Bill has trouble being soft, but can be very supportive when needed.

F : FLIRT. is your muse good at flirting? how do they flirt?

Shameless, and shamelessly dirty. He takes flirting to a new level. Bill loves to buy people drinks and chat them up, even if he doesn’t plan on going home with them at the end of the night; it’s fun to just see how far he can push, and who’s willing to play along with him. (Nothing’s sexier than someone with a smart mouth, who can sass him right back.)

G : GIFT. is your muse good at gift - giving or do they struggle to get it right?

No one would call him bad at it, but he doesn’t always... hit the nail on the head. He tries, and will absolutely go to four different stores just to find something he knows someone’s looking for. Left to his own devices, he’ll come up with weird gifts, though. A pack of very colorful socks, an apron for a friend who can barely cook, a build-your-own-bookshelf kit for someone with no damn time. He thinks his gifts are great... but it’s easier to just give him a list.

H : HEART. is your muse quick or slow to give their heart away?

He’s quick to give it away to the right people. Bill’s got great instincts, and is good at reading someone’s character --- it’s what draws him to the friends he ends up keeping for life. Bill only gives his heart to those who are able to hold their own, who are worthy of it. He ain’t got time for fairweather friends. Either you earn Bill’s love, or you don’t.

I : I LOVE YOU. does your muse find ‘i love you’ easy or hard to say?

Annoyingly easy. He’s not gushy about it, but he likes saying it, and it’s obvious in how often he drops it --- sometimes declared loudly to their assembled group of friends, but most often muttered in a low voice, for his partner’s ears alone. Why shouldn’t he love saying it? It’s true.

J : JEALOUSY. does your muse get jealous in a relationship?

Bill Guarnere don’t get jealous, cause he knows exactly who he is, and exactly who the other guy’s not. His partner might play around to get him riled up --- and hell, he’ll do the same thing --- but he trusts they’d never look at anyone else seriously. Trust is a major element in Bill’s relationships, and he’d never really fall in love with someone he couldn’t have faith in.

K : KISS. is your muse a good kisser? why / why not?

Bill’s exactly the sort of overconfident bastard who sees a kiss as a door to something more. He doesn’t have Prince Charming instincts, but his kisses are a team effort; he’s under no illusion about calling the shots, taking his cues from his partner how far they’ll go. If they don’t want his mouth somewhere, it’s not going there. His kisses are pure fire, electric, all teeth and tongue and shameless nips. He’s not afraid of anything. He’s also a mutterer, which depending on the partner is hot or annoying as hell. He’ll grit out words of praise or curses in between kisses, pressing them against the dark marks left on his partner’s skin, until they flush an even deeper red.

L : LOVE. who does your muse love?

He loves his people. Bill considers a select group of folks his --- and once you’re in, there’s no easy way out, ‘cept for proving yourself a total jackass. Bill’s ride-or-die for his whole (massive) family, and his extensive friend group. Yeah, he’s got some he’d do more for than others --- Babe’s the only one he’d hide a body for, and he’s still got that thing Lip asked him to hold onto in his closet --- but Bill loves fiercely, and would risk it all for any one of ‘em.

M : MOONLIGHT. is morning or night a more romantic setting?

Bold of you to assume there’s a difference between morning sex and night sex to this man. Bill’s ready to go at any time.

N : NAUGHTY. what is your muse like in bed?

Extremely confident, to the point that it seems like he’s compensating for something. He’s not --- that’s the best part. Bill gets riled up very quickly, and in bed he is heated, driven, and very physical. He loves lifting his partner up by their thighs and moving them around the room, loves pressing them against walls and leaving deep red marks on their neck... vocally expressive partners really get him going. He’s not shy about dirty talk, and even less shy about letting his partner take the lead. Bill’s very much of the “work together” mindset in bed. He can go multiple rounds at a time before getting worn out, but sometimes he’ll get a cramp in the middle, and then it all goes to hell (ft. the Not Sexy kind of cursing).

O : ODE. does your muse have a way with words?

Bill has a commanding way of speaking; he doesn’t make a big deal outta being eloquent, but he captures people’s attention. He knows how to be listened to. Sometimes this can make it hard, in quieter moments, to express what’s really in his heart, when he’s so used to speaking only the boldest words, but... Bill Guarnere always manages.

P : PARTNER. what does your muse look for in a partner? looks / personality?

Bill needs someone who gives as good as they get. He’d never be happy with a shrinking violet; they’ve gotta have punch to them, a good sense of humor and firm head on their shoulders. He needs somebody loyal, a partner who’ll be by his side through thick and thin --- ‘cause even he’ll admit, he’s downright exhausting sometimes. A person with a temper, probably; someone with confidence, who says what the hell they think. Great curves are a plus, especially a nice set of boobs. Bill’s always gonna fall for someone with fire, who can keep him on his toes, and hold him up even if he’s only got one leg to stand on.

Q : QUESTION. would your muse ask the big question or expect their partner to?

Oh, he’s gonna ask. Ain’t no question, as soon as he’s got the ring, Bill Guarnere’s not wasting a second. It’s just a matter of when (as soon as he’s 95% sure he’s gonna get a good answer) and how (out to dinner at his favorite Italian restaurant, or maybe afterwards, taking a walk through the park. He wouldn’t want many eyes on them, but he’d want to do it somewhere special --- a place he and his partner could take the kids to years down the line, to boast about how it all started here.

R : ROMANCE. is your muse a romantic or a cynic?

He’s no fuckin’ tights-wearing, wishing-well-singing, ‘someday my prince will come’ asshole, but sure, he’s a romantic. Bill’s got a flair for romance; he knows how to show his partner a good time, and loves doing it, just to see the warm gleam in their eyes. Dancing all by themselves, eating a candlelight dinner he made, taking a romantic bath together... all in the Bill Guarnere playbook, sweets.

S : SWEETHEART. did your muse have a childhood sweetheart?

Not really? Look, Bill had a lot going on as a kid. He was everywhere at once; all the neighbors knew him as a holy terror, and the ones with any sense told their daughters not to get near him. Romance wasn’t first on his mind.

T : TRUE LOVE. does your muse believe in true love?

Absolutely. Point blank. Love is love, and some people are meant to be together forever. Anger can fuel a hell of a lot in you, but love’s more powerful than all of it. Anger can move mountains, but love can build them outta thin air.

U : UNREQUITED. has your muse had their heart broken?

Nope. He’s a resilient bastard. Sure, he’s had his share of rejection (and smacks in the mouth), but Bill’s not the type to take it personally.

V : VALENTINE. how does your muse feel about valentine’s day?

Well, he’s definitely never sat on the couch in his boxers eating a box of chocolate alone, and that definitely hasn’t given him a complex about giving his partner the best damn Valentine’s Day every goddamn year. (No Bill, cancel the hot air ballon, you don’t need it ---)

W : WEDDING. would your muse get married? why / why not?

Oh, hell yeah. Just give him the right person --- and he’ll find ‘em, don’t worry about that --- and Bill’s hopping on that one-way train straight to domestic bliss. He’s not in a big hurry about it, so long as his partner knows what’s what --- if he’s in a serious relationship with someone he really cares for, it’s a foregone conclusion to Bill that they’re gonna get married eventually. (He wouldn’t even think his partner might have a different viewpoint; if they did, it’d shock him to his core.)

X : XOXO. does your muse use / like pet names?

Definitely. Some are sweet, some are perverted, and some are a little bit of both. He uses them liberally.

Y : YOURS. does your muse get protective easily?

Protective could be his middle name. Bill is an incredible guy to have on your side in a rough spot; sure, he swings before he thinks, but he thinks while he’s swinging. Excellent man in a fight. No one steps in on Bill Guarnere’s loved ones and gets away scott-free, and he goes especially berserk if it’s his partner being threatened.

Z : ZZZ. how many people has your muse slept with?

Not... a number he’d be proud to admit to his Mamma, but he’s no virgin. Bill got up to more mischief overseas than he could ever find in Philly. Probably about... 8 - 9 partners? And no, he’s not careful where he sleeps. He’s gotten used to the taste of penicillin, and Doc Roe’s left a few brochures under his pillow.

#headcanons #bill guarnere

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mrsalwayswrite · 4 years

Text

Christmas Morning (Alfie Solomons x Reader one-shot)

This piece is dedicated to the always lovely @evelynshelby. Merry Christmas, my dear.

And to everyone else, Merry Christmas, happy Hanukkah, I suddenly can't remember anything else (I’m so sorry). This is just a short one-shot of pure fluff because who doesn’t want a domestic, fluffy Alfie to celebrate Christmas? I don't normally write one-shots or straight up fluff so if this is terrible...I’m sorry. *shrugs*

Warnings: Swearing, some mild sexual content, pure fluff.

Word count: 2k

~Christmas Morning~

“Daddy! Daddy Daddyyyyyy!”

Alfie braced himself as much as he could before being bombarded with small, energetic bodies intent on destroying what he had left of vitality. He had been sleeping deeply, enjoying the extra sleep that he normally lost due to either his hip bothering him or the creatures he called children demanding his attention.

“Oi! Wot ya buggers want, eh?” He grumbled as at least two children raced into the bedroom, slamming the door violently open and jumped enthusiastically on the bed and another child poked him repeatedly in the ribs.

“It’s Christmas!”

“Kissmas!”

“Mum says ya gotta up now.”

“We’re Jewish. Don’t celebrate that none. Go back to bed.” He rolled onto his back, knowing whatever hopes of more blissful sleep to be had was gone. Peeking his eyes open, the faces of his four children greeted him in varying positions on the bed and expressions of excitement on their little faces.

“Presents!” They chorused, the two middle ones jumping gleefully on the bed, making the toddler bounce precariously on the edge.

“Who said ‘em presents are for ya? Mmm? They s’for me…full of socks and knickers they are.”

“No, Daddy.” His beautiful four year old girl cupped his cheeks, her earnest blue eyes staring fondly at him. “One has me name on it. I drew youse a picture downstairs. Mum said I gotta wait to gives it to ya.”

“I bet it’s beautiful, love.” He kissed her nose making her giggle. However much he wished he could continue to rest…these little, joyful faces were worth getting up for. His heart swelled with love as he watched his children play on the bed, fighting for his attention or pulling on him to get out of the bed.

“Alright kids, daddy is up.” You say from leaning against the doorframe. Four kids, only one a girl, most of the time your home felt like occasionally controlled chaos…but it was the chaos you made with the man who had held your heart from your first date. You would not trade any of it for the world. “Why don’t you go wait for Grandpa and Grandma by the window? They should be here any minute.”

“Yay!” Ellie slid off the bed, taking off running in competition with her five year old brother, James- the biggest trouble makers of the house. Their hurried feet sounded like a stampede down the hardwood floor and down the stairs to the main floor.

“Jacob, take Little Sam with you please. When I come down, you can take Cyril outside, alright?” You say, picking your toddler off the bed.

“Yes, mum. C’mon Sam…” Jacob, your eldest at seven, grabbed his youngest brother’s hand and walked slowly with him out of the room telling him about all the presents they were going to get from their Christian grandparents.

Once the children were gone, Alfie flung himself back onto the bed with a groan. “I’m gettin’ too old for this. Me bones are creakin’ like wood.”

“Uh huh, sure.” You moved to stand by his side of your shared bed, gazing down at him. “Don’t forget, you were the one who wanted a houseful of children. Might need to start keepin’ your hands off me if that’s the case. I’m pretty sure you just wink at me and I’m suddenly pregnant.”

Alfie opened his eyes, smirking that devilish grin of his that could still make you weak in the knees even after almost a decade of being with him. “I’m fairly sure that s’impossible, love. Not me fault I can’t keep me hands to meself, you just too fuckin’ beautiful.”

“Sweet-talker.” You leaned over him and gave him a quick peck on this lips before straightening. “You do need to get up. My parents will be here soon.”

“Ughhhh….fuckin’ bloody ‘ell and all them…”

“I know, I know. You just loooove when my mum comes over. Remember this is for the kids.”

He snorted, slowly pushing himself up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Honestly, he could not stand your mother. He only tolerated her because of the family relation now and even with that, he found himself drinking whiskey, rum or whatever was in easy reach a bit more on days where she was around. Not that she was all that endearing to him herself. Part of him thought she still held a grudge towards Alfie for taking away her beloved daughter and somehow putting a love spell on her. Since what logical, sweet, devoted girl would fall in love with an old, cranky gangster with blood on his hands. Luckily the old hag had become more tolerable once grandchildren came into the picture.

“And how s’the little one?” He gently placed his hands on your stomach, feeling the slight bulge there where his newest child was growing. “I didn’t ‘ear ya up in the night at all. No sickness?”

Unable to help yourself, you ran your hands through Alfie’s hair. He would need a haircut soon but you absolutely adored playing with it in the meantime. “Slept great. I think the nausea has finally passed, about time really. The other kids never kept me sick for this long. Although, I’m confident my breasts got bigger overnight.”

“Mmm…” His roving hands slowly traveled upward over the bathroom robe you wore until he cupped your breasts. “It’s hard to tell, yeah, in this. Might need to undress ya to double check.”

“Alfie…Alfie, no!” You protested, trying to push his hands away but your giggling counteracted your supposed stern demeanor. “My parents…”

“Fuck.” He groaned and dropped his head onto your stomach, the thought of playing with your fuller breasts had him at half-mast already.

“If you promise to be good today, I’ll give you a sneak peek of your present right now.”

That caught his attention. “Present, ya say?”

“Best behavior, Alfie. All day. No threatening to castrate my brother again this year…or teaching the kids curses in Yiddish so my mother can’t understand what you’re saying.”

“You drive a hard bargain, woman. Me present better be somethin’ special.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah, yeah, I promise.”

“Good.” A coy smile grew on your lips as you took a step back, maintaining eye contact with your husband. Slowly, you pulled on the tie, keeping the robe together around your body. Just to torment him further, you ran your tongue over your lower lip then bit it, knowing that action drove him crazy. Sure enough, you could see his pupils expand as he greedily watched you. The tie came off and you dropped it to the floor, keeping your movements slow and purposeful. Then you let the robe ease off your shoulders and slowly opened it up to reveal what was underneath.

Alfie’s jaw dropped slightly, his eyes widen at the sight before him. There stood his gorgeous wife in a silky lingerie piece that teased more than it actually covered. All that bare skin, breasts offered up like a present and just the faintest hint of fabric covering your womanhood to tempt him to delve into your depths and make you scream his name in ecstasy. His brain ceased all function. His cock fully erect and demanding attention. Since having children, you rarely wore lingerie and it had been years since you bought a new piece to surprise him. He reached out, wanting to touch you and make sure you were not a dream come to life. “Y/n…”

Abruptly you wrapped yourself back up and picked up the tie to keep your robe together and conceal what lay beneath. That coy smile still graced your lips, but you could feel the sudden dampness between your legs at the hungry look in Alfie’s eyes as he stared at you. Playing it off, you brushed your hair back over your shoulder and winked. “Best behavior…then I’ll let you touch it later.”

“Love…you can’t do that to a man. Teasin’ him like that. Just ain’t right.”

“It’s your incentive. I plan on wearing this all day since only my parents are coming over today. Now you know what is waiting for you later…as long as you’re good.” As you spoke, you slowly walked towards the door, fully intent on heading back downstairs to check on your children. Who knows what they were getting up too? Each one seemed born with Alfie’s knack for finding trouble.

Suddenly Alfie leapt up out and raced around the bed to where you now stood. Roughly he pushed you against the nearby wall and pressed himself against you. Keeping his knee between your legs, one hand cupped a breast over the robe while the other pulled on your thigh until one of your bare legs wrapped around his hip. His mouth ghosted over your neck, his hot breath causing goosebumps to appear on your skin. “I’ll be good, so good…then when we’re alone, I’m gonna get ya back, you temptress, for this. So many wicked, naughty things I have in mind for ya, yeah? You won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

“Promises, promises, Captain Solomons.” You purred lazily, knowing how much your husband loved when you called him by his military title while making love. Anyone else would receive a “fuck off” and a good whack with his cane. Something about how you said it in the moment, he had confessed years ago that it turned him on. Not that you complained, it certainly did things to you too. The current haze of lust growing from his strokes and kisses made you close your eyes and moan wantonly as he trailed kisses along your neck and onto your chest.

As if a challenge was issued, he redoubled his efforts. His lips and tongue worked over your skin while his hands touched and caressed all the spots that he knew make you wet for him. Soon you were both panting, tugging on each other’s clothes and grinding against one another seeking friction like horny teenagers.

“Dad! Mum! Sam is eatin’ Cyril’s food ‘gain!” Jacob called up the stairs.

And with that, reality set back in.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Alfie muttered, dropping his head onto your shoulder. After a couple ragged breaths, he yelled back down. “Comin’! Put Cyril’s food bowl on the counter, yeah?”

“Ok! Ellie spilled her milk all over the table too!”

“Did not! S’James did it!”

“Golems. The lot of ‘em. Not a moment’s peace, I swear.” Alfie mumbled, begrudgingly stepping back from you, attempting to control his cock that certainly had other plans than dealing with the unruly children it helped create.

“You love it.” After adjusting your robe so it covered everything, you moved to head out of the room. “Don’t take too long, Captain. Your soldiers are waiting for you. Just think of my mother and that should help calm you down.” With that final parting thought, you whisked out of the room smiling to yourself.

Well that thought certainly helped somewhat. Alfie walked over to the chair against the far wall and picked up his own bath robe, tying it around himself. Ten years ago he never would have imagined himself here. Yet you were right, like usual. He did love it. Each one of his children seemed to expand his blackened heart until he thought it would burst with love and joy. You were his shining light and love of his life. Family…his own. That was something he never would have guessed for himself ten years ago.

Alfie made a quick reminder to call Ollie once he made it downstairs. The bakery was still running smoothly, for the most part. Ollie had finally grown a set of balls and managed most of the day to day stuff when Alfie was not around. A truce had been made with the Shelbys that was mutually beneficial, plus Tommy had his sights set higher than London so he paid no attention to Alfie and his doings. The Italians had lost their standing years ago, and no longer were a threat in any form. Yes, life was perfect right now…something he never would have foreseen for himself. And it was all thanks to you. For accidently spilling your drink all over him at a club then offering to clean him up…with your tongue. The following conversation had been most entertaining and although no tongue action happened…it was not too many weeks later when Alfie first kissed you and knew right then, you would change his life.

Now if only he could figure out what to do with your mum…

#peaky blinders fiction #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #Alfie Solomons #alfie x reader #christmas #hot daddy #mother reader #reader insert #mzwrites

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404fmdhaon · 3 years

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self para & aesthetic & playlist — v live blues

summary: gyujeong does a solo vlive for the first time in two years — not mandated by the company, just because he’s tipsy and lonely. it’s where he suggests a playlist for those feeling down. playlist summary: feeling down, and gyu suggests his go-to songs for the moments you need a pick me up. (explanation of each song weaved in the self-para). warnings: alcohol wc: 1368 (this accounts for the playlist summary too)

it’s obvious when he stumbles through the hallways of his apartment — staggered steps, a palm pressed against the walls when he takes his shoes off, tosses it out. he’ll save the cleaning for another day. times like these, it’s the taste of alcohol that lingers on the tip of his tongue and he forages the pieces of things to do for the next day: another recording inside the walls of his studios, and another meeting. no new friends, just the same old people roaming around.

he flicks his gaze towards tokki, snuggled up against her corner of the room (warning: danger territory, he never encroaches towards that facet of her space). instead, he slips a lighter out of his pocket nested deep, lights the candles one by one in his room as he enters — finishes it all off with an incense.

the aroma of the room slowly dissipates into his comfort scents. forces him to relax his shoulders as he hangs up the jacket wrapped around his body, and by the time he throws his back onto the bed and stares at the ceiling — the realization hits.

loneliness feels foreign.

not the gaping hole throbbing inside a void, but the kind that slowly reaches its hands and warps him new. he’s never been the pitiful image of harrowing loneliness, jaded and skewed, no — that’s not his niche. yet, it’s this subtle difference where he’s strung thin from one place to the next and suddenly, he’s screaming out to an empty abyss and alcohol rings his thoughts louder.

gyujeong figures — this kind of night isn’t smoothened over by forcing his eyes shut, shuffling inside his bed for empty hours on end. he needs an escape, and the last form of escape doesn’t come to a call to a friend in the welcome of “what’s up” but instead, the last lapse of his judgement: v-live.

his feet slide back over to his desk, phone positioned against the screen of his monitor. ceiling lights on, he hums to himself the beginnings of the song recorded earlier (drunken state still clocks him, and spoilers would yank the tether around his neck closer in).

instead, he turns in on, presses his beanie further against his head. four in the morning, and the numbers start trickling in when he stares blankly, full-transparency to a phone with a sea of empty faces.

haon, vlive? our oppa is treating us! what’s wrong with his expression? is he drunk, he’s red ㅋㅋ handsome even when he looks tired happy fans from indonesia!

he doesn’t greet them, doesn’t say hi. the most he makes is when his cheeks puff out, and he squeezes his lips together shut, blowing out when his hands roll around the mouse. in comes the clicks onto a screen, when the first words he speaks air: “i like these songs — just sit and listen.”

roses by finn askew

the first few sounds of the beat come in before the voice entrances — he sings along. a song about roses, he thinks of yeseul — the eleven roses, one short of a dozen when he waited for her in the corner of a neighborhood (the first time he buys flower for a girl, another first she takes away from him). give you all my time, if you wanna take it slow. you’re my little pick-me-up, yeah. you fill my cup — he stops his cover short when the notion that his pick-me-up becomes a fragment of the past and he’s still jaded by the aftermath.

strawberries and cigarettes by troye sivan Remember when you taught me fate Said it'd all be worth the wait Like that night in the back of the cab When your fingers walked in my hand Next day, nothin' on my phone

he doesn’t sing along, only sulks back into his chair — his hands come across his chest, and he basks in each word flowing past his speakers. thinks of each instance of fate, and how it all slots itself together when he least expects it. one strike of fate after another, and now he’s ten years past his own first steps into the decision that changes him. no longer worth the wait, he shakes his head drowning in the whiplash of missteps sliding from one phase to the next.

it’s his sad boy blues, he knows. doesn’t care when warmth and red-tinges across his face beg to differ.

good news by mac miller When it ain't that bad It could always be worse I'm running out of gas, hardly anything left Hope I make it home from work Well, so tired of being so tired

it’s an ode to one of the greatest inside his head — mac miller. the gentle lull of mumbles and the easy-listening, he’s reminded once more of why healing comes in the form of music. gyujeong continues, follows the play of the song when he raps along in a sing-song motion of when it ain’t that bad, it could be worse. (inside his mind’s a replay of the past few years where bad judgement and whiplash of bc’s constant meetings play.)

remembers the day of trainee life when the first release of mac miller soothed tired nights in the training room, beads of sweat ceased by the empty echoes of mac playing inside the dark room. “rest in peace, mac miller” he whispers by the time the song ends.

changes by lauv I'm getting rid of all my clothes I don't wear I think I'm gonna cut my hair 'Cause these days, I don't feel like me, mm I think I'm gonna take a break from alcohol

his eyes rove over each comment, a stream of consciousness that leaves each blank face behind a username calling out for a talk. he subdues their woes when he reaches out in the first question of the night — “should i cut my hair?” and in surfaces the cheeky smirk, pulled lopsided when the heartless laughter stems out of his chest heavy soul.

there’s no happiness inside changes, just the same monotony that drags from one day to the next. he’s thought of it, thought of the times he’s wanted to burn his clothes, start anew. leave the life behind him — yet, it’s the effect already set in stone where he no longer feels like himself. lost his self in the process, and perhaps, it’s what spurred the loneliness in the first place.

blue by keshi Don't hit my cell There's an unknown number on my phone I don't need your help Just let me lay down on the floor

gyujeong paints himself blue. drowns himself in a sea of dark waves, tempest patterns — he sits, throws his head back when he picks up the phone and draws it closer to his face. up-close, personal. yet, there’s a lapse of personal touches when it feels like a narrowing chasm of cctv maximized as the eyes watching glue to each of his moments.

he doesn’t want their help, he just wanted an escape. lying on the floor, sitting on a chair — the act of nothing: he’s numbed out by now.

pink skies by lany

when his eyes flit over to the window, there’s a ribbon of pink in the horizon. the mood down low, he clicks to the next recommended song on the side bar — listens to it for the first time. it draws a picture of a road trip had he ever been served with unrestrained freedom leaving him out in the open (mental note: a road trip might be the answer during the next bolt of loneliness wedging itself deep).

gyujeong stays in his chair, tapping his fingers against the desk. this type of music becomes background noise when he reads out loud, the comments one by one — brows raising in a faux show of interest inside the monotones that wring out the ambivalence.

“what is your favorite color.” “yellow.” “what are you doing” “listening to music.” “where is knight?” “inside bc entertainment.” “what do you smell like” “roses.”

october eyes by alt bloom All the lack of symmetry fits you so perfectly lady Yes I fall with your clothes take em' off hold me close, baby Those October eyes Keep me up all night Darling, my sunrise is when you go

the last song he shares in the night, skims past the comments. a farewell to the loneliness still persisting, and he sings along — it all comes full circle when the first and last match up to the one figure lodging herself deeper inside his chest. his october eyes no where to pierce him with the same tempest stare and coy smile, yet he still stays up all night — the sun rises, and that’s when she leaves and fatigue takes over.

he heaves a heavy breath, chest out. exhale then inhale — the breathiness takes over when his voice shakes, and the room starts spinning. (he still sings along anyway).

by the time it’s over, he doesn’t manage a heartless look. humanized, he offers solace in a dulled out curl of his lip, bares out a “thank you for today,” and in case somewhere fate slides yeseul back to him, he adds the postlude to her.

“take a listen again, and you’ll know where i stand.”

#속마음 — 셀프 #노래 더 크게 — 음악

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thevengeanceuniverse · 4 years

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Touch in the Dark Ch 4.1 (Steve)

Steve woke early the next morning. He took a moment to soak in the warmth of Tony cuddled up next to him, face buried in Steve’s chest and curls a tangled nest on his head. He brushed a soft kiss on his head before delicately extricating himself to get ready.

He loved this time of the day when the city slowly woke, sleepy but insistent. When there was the illusion of quiet and calm and he could relish in the knowledge that his family was safe and happy. Suited up, he padded over to wake Peter for school, shepherding the boy to the bathroom as he stumbled along with closed eyes and drool on his cheek. That done, he continued his rounds to the kitchen to buss his mother with a loud smack on her cheek, her laughter following him out the door. He didn’t take breakfast this early, his stomach needing a few hours to wake up, but he did head over to the kitchen at the office for his daily dose of caffeine.

Grabbing a mug, he poured himself a full cup before leaning against the island in the centre of the kitchen to savour his first sips. Unbidden, a moan escapes his lips. God bless Maria Stark for her fancy as shit coffee maker. He can’t believe he lived through the era of dirty dishwasher coffee, this was like ambrosia in comparison.

“Eww man, those are not the sounds I want to be hearing from my boss so early in the morning. Keep your sex noises to yourself and my best friend.” Steve turns to see James Rhodes coming through the door, breakfast ingredients in his hands.

“You lost your right to censor any of my coffee orgasm sounds”—he ignores Rhodes’ gagging—“when I caught you defiling my countertops last week.”

Sam’s laughter announces him as he follows behind his Jamie, hands also full and a wicked grin stretching his lips. “You know what they say, the kitchen is the chef’s kingdom. I was just sampling the delicacies.” He laughs harder at Rhodes’ indignant squawk, unrepentantly grabbing him for a cuddle and getting a smack on the back of his head for his insolence.

Steve rolls his eyes at their antics but his insides are happy at their easy affection for each other. When Rhodes had turned up four months ago, fresh from the army on medical discharge, his eyes had been haunted whenever Tony wasn’t around to distract him from the nightmares in his head. Steve wouldn’t have anticipated this result when Tony had asked him to let Rhodes work as assistant chef, but he had to admit that using cooking as an outlet for his memories was doing the young veteran a world of good. They had talked about it one night over drinks, and Rhodes had shared with shadowed eyes that he felt relief when he could create something new and delicious for someone’s enjoyment. That though he would never regret the actions he had taken to save the lives of civilians and his unit, he had had doubts that his hands would be able to dole out anything other than death.

The passion he had shared with Sam had been an immediate thing, both men sharing a background in the service and trading witty barbs right off the bat. The lack of delicacy Sam had shown had eased Rhodes back into civilian life, softening the defensive tension held in his eyes and body. But no one had anticipated that steady Rhodes would dive right into an explosive sexual relationship with the in-house ruler of the kitchen, let alone that love-’em-and-leave-’em Sam Wilson would want to lay down commitment after a mere month. But three months after deciding to make their relationship as real as it could be in their homophobic world, Sam and Rhodes were in surprisingly domestic bliss.

Soaking in the warmth of their companionship a little longer, Steve eventually made it to his office for some quiet hours of paperwork. Fresh from witnessing the love Rhodes and Sam shared, his mind inevitably turned to the kiss Tony and James shared last night. It had been an unexpectedly erotic sight, watching how sweetly Tony had opened up for James and the gentle way James had held Tony in his arms. Steve knew that James had initially planned to kiss Tony as a way of jerking Steve’s chain. Both to trigger his possessive nature and as an unspoken message that they could move forward from the awkwardness born of their confessions nearly a year ago. James was signalling that he was accepting the fact of Steve moving on to loving Tony, which was all well and good and probably meant they could finally regain their friendship. But it was a message that Steve could admit in the privacy of his mind that he felt torn about.

Steve knew he was the one to tell James that his feelings for him had ended all those years ago, when James had ended their relationship and unknowingly broken Steve’s heart. But.

Though he was probably being unfaithful to Tony for thinking this, it was true that you never fully forgot your first love. The way that the feelings overwhelmed you. And Steve had carried those feelings for a long time, that bud in his chest not fully dying. Because even after they broke things off, in-between lovers (both his and James) they had fallen back into bed again and again over the years. The ease of their relationship and the knowledge of each other’s bodies making for highly pleasurable interludes.

He could feel himself getting hard as those moments played back in his head, the heat of James’ mouth when he swallowed Steve down, the weight of James on his tongue when he returned the favour. Thoroughly distracted now, Steve pushed his chair back from the desk, giving himself space to sprawl as he slouched down a bit more comfortably. His hand reached down to press against his cock as he lets himself sink into the memories burned into his mind. Memories of James’ kisses, the spot on the middle of his back where he was unbearably sensitive, Steve delighting in dragging his lips and teeth and tongue across it as he entered the tightness of James’ body. Teasing and driving James wild as he became increasingly desperate and demanding.

Unbuttoning his slacks, he licked his palm before he took himself in hand, mourning the loss of a smoother slide but not wanting to stain his pants with oil so early in the morning. He didn’t waste too much time, knowing that Dugan would be coming in soon, letting his memories of James meld with his memories of Tony and thinking of the way they were twined together so briefly last night. He got an illicit thrill at thinking of his past and present lovers together, a thousand images in his mind of the way they would look together as Tony lost his mind in James’ hands. When Steve was with James, it was always a fight for dominance, each enjoying topping even from the bottom. It was playful and sometimes aggressive, but always so good. They liked to be ridden hard when it was with each other, but with Tony, Steve had gotten to explore a new side of himself. Tony lost himself in a way that Steve had never seen before with a lover, became dazed and sweetly obedient as he rode the high of his pleasure higher and higher. The trust of their relationship let him float in a place where he didn’t feel like he had to be on alert to protect himself or his brother, something Steve knew was a rare state for Tony after years of abuse from Howard.

His breath hitched at thinking of Tony going all soft and hazy in James’ hands, and the gentle way James would handle Tony as he sucked pleasurable bruises all over Tony’s skin, marking him possessively. Or the way James would lounge back against the pillows like a king to be serviced, coaxing Tony on his knees over him for a long, slow ride.

He stroked himself harder, close to the edge but not quite there. Tony would look so pretty riding James, lightly muscled back curved as he rode with his head thrown back, hips undulating as he took his pleasure at James’ urging. His mind went further, supplying images of James rearranging Tony on his hands and knees on the bed, still thrusting as he tugged Tony’s head up with a light pull on his hair. Tony looking up with heavy-lidded whiskey eyes, drunk on pleasure as he reaches up to pull Steve to him and take him in his mouth. Steve falls over the edge, imagining spilling into Tony’s mouth as James spills into Tony’s ass, pulling the taller brunette for a biting kiss over their shared lover.

The door clicks as the handle is turned and Steve jerks up, grateful for the heavy barrier of the desk. He both relaxes and tenses as Tony slips inside the room on quick feet, smiling automatically back even as his gut churns with guilt over fantasizing over James, reality coldly quashing any possibility of sharing Tony between them. Tony only recently came to the realization of his sexuality and though willing to try new things with Steve, Steve had serious doubts that that adventurous nature would extend to sharing a lover.

Tony came forward to claim a kiss, curious eyes at Steve’s stiff posture widening as he took in Steve’s dishevelled appearance. Before Steve had time to do more than open his mouth to explain, Tony was slipping into the space between Steve and the desk. Steve watches as Tony kneels between his open thighs, mischievous eyes on Steve’s as he reaches to take Steve’s cum covered hand in his own and bring it to his mouth. Steve groaned as Tony applied wet suction to his fingers and nibbled on the vee between his thumb and his pointer. His clever tongue sought out every trace of cum and Steve greedily pressed his thumb against that tongue, stroking it as he held Tony’s mouth open to see the way that his cum pooled near Tony’s throat before he swallowed it down. Leaning down, Steve licked into Tony’s mouth, sharing his own taste with dirty satisfaction.

He bit Tony’s plump lower lip as he pulled away, watching as Tony ducked back down to give his cock the same treatment he had given Steve’s hand. Mind flashing back to his fantasy, he felt his cock give a valiant twitch as he basked in the reality of the moment that pushed him over. Leaning back, he gave himself over to Tony’s eager mouth and hands as they cleaned him up, only pushing away when it got to be too much. Letting Tony put him away and close his slacks, he pulled the smaller man onto his lap, feeling happy and sated.

He ran his hand up Tony’s back as he lost himself in Tony’s lush mouth, enjoying the way that Tony shivered at the light, teasing touch before pressing closer. He cupped Tony’s own erection, thumbing at the head of his cock as his lips wandered lower to kiss along a smooth jaw and the column of his throat. Nipping a bite low enough to be covered by Tony’s collar, Steve pulled away a little to look at Tony’s face.

“Do you want to continue?” he asked with a pointed squeeze.

Aiming a quick glance at the clock on Steve’s desk, Tony sighed dejectedly before shaking his head. “We only have a couple minutes before Dugan comes in.” He dropped a kiss on Steve’s lips before pulling back with a grin. “You’ll just owe me later.”

Steve chuckled as he pulled Tony in for more cuddles, stroking his hands along the body in his lap in an effort to soothe Tony’s unfulfilled desires. It calmed him, holding Tony like this. They didn’t need to speak, soaking in the comfort of each other’s touch in a way that wasn’t sexual, just loving. When Dugan came in as expected, he shook his head and sighed at the portrait of them but didn’t say anything. Tony greeted him with a smile as he made his way to the lounge area of the office that he claimed as his workspace, situating himself and getting to work. Steve watched him lose himself in numbers and equations with fondness before buckling down with his own work, the calm from their moment staying with him and advancing his productivity as he reviewed documents.

They continued this way for several hours before Dugan announced that the people he had scheduled for the troop trainer position had all arrived. Dropping a kiss to Tony’s lips, he reminded him to take a break to eat before heading down to the basement where he met with Sam and Happy. Happy was James’ trainer and Steve had convinced James to lend him when Steve had walked him out after dinner.

Steve was looking for skill in his new trainer, but after Falsworth, he knew he needed someone who would be loyal even if he didn’t agree with Steve’s gay lifestyle. Therefore, he planned on letting each man go against each other, examining their skills alongside Sam, Dugan and Happy, before pairing them up with a partner and having them fight against Sam and Happy. Happy was highly trained, but he was a heavier, more traditional fighter. Sam, in contrast, was lighter and liked to get creative with his fights and similar to James in his willingness to fight dirty if he needed to. Together, they were a formidable combo and would pose an appropriate challenge to these tryouts.

Watching his friend, Steve mourned the fact that Sam was too happy in the kitchens to give up his love full time to train the men, otherwise, they wouldn’t have to go through with all this. Steve had tried to convince him with everything he thought of to sweeten the deal but had gotten the same negative in response. So here they were.

Dugan did good work. It was obvious that each fighter was at the top of their game, so it quickly became a game amongst the judges to pick apart the styles, strengths and weaknesses of each candidate. There was a wide variety that came from long study and training, Steve picking out jujitsu techniques in some, savate in others, even Kalarippayattu (and old Indian fighting style) in one. Steve could see potential in Fredrickson, Hunt and Nolan. They were skilled in various techniques and already members, which would be a benefit since it meant Steve wouldn’t have to carefully screen them the same way he would a new addition.

In the end, however, the standout ended up being Thor Odinson. Though he wasn’t the most technically skilled fighter of the bunch, he was well-trained and battle-honed. His style was upfront and instinctual rather than the studied complexity used by some of the other participants, and he moved naturally and fluidly. But the reason he stood out was because he was the only one out of the pair fights that abandoned his own win to jump in and defend his partner from a pin. Steve trusted his gut when it decided that this was the man he could rely on to have his back and to train his members to have his back too.

He wouldn’t announce anything today, Dugan had more people lined up for him to test over the next few days but Steve knew his mind would be comparing the others he met to Odinson. Deciding to test his feeling, he, Happy, Sam and Dugan made the rounds after the fights, talking to each of the trainers for a bit. They were good guys for the most part, though Rumlow rose some red flags.

Odinson turned out to be a very different kind of surprise.

Steve didn’t bother with subtlety. “Why did you throw away your win? You could have incapacitated Happy while Sam was busy with Rumlow and then taken the reprieve from a double attack to incapacitate Sam and win. Rumlow hadn’t shown the same care for you.” No, Rumlow taken Odinson’s sacrifice and ran with it to the finish line. He had used the momentum of Sam focusing on taking down Odinson, finishing off Sam with a hit from behind and then rushing Happy who hadn’t fully recovered from being winded by Odinson.

Odinson gave Steve a shrewd glance, “I don’t believe winning was actually the goal of the exercise.”

“No?”

The Nordic man crossed his arms across his thick chest. “Winning alone means nothing if everyone around you gets killed. We’re here to help you integrate new members into a team and make sure they work together efficiently, make sure your men not only protect themselves but each other. That won’t work if they’re all just looking out for themselves. Or worse, trying so hard to be impressive that they have to get saved.” He said the last bit with an eye-roll in Rumlow’s direction. No love lost there then.

Steve suppressed his grin, nodding and moving on to the next fighter. He had his man.

#reblog if you like #winterironshield #stuckony #thor #sam wilson #james rhodes #rhodey #bucky x tony #tony x steve #steve x bucky #sexy tony #young tony stark #stony #touchinthedark #vengeanceworks

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harrywavycurly · 4 years

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Interview with the Horans!

This is a compilation of questions I’ve received for Niall and Delilah to answer and I did it as if they were sitting down doing an interview, I hope you enjoy and that it helps give you an insight into the lives of the Horans! If you have no clue what I’m talking about Niall and Delilah are from my Insta Story you can find here!

Q: How did you two meet?

Niall: At an after party of a sports event I believe? She’s gonna kill me if I got it wrong.

Delilah: Really? An after party? You’re so annoying. We met at a sports event that I didn’t want to go too but my friend Phoebe dragged me to it and I ran into Niall at the bar it was all super casual.

Niall: Ya sure, if ya call her almost knockin me over ta order a bloody drink casual.

Q: How did you ask Delilah to be your girlfriend?

Niall: Oh god uh I jus sat her down and asked her if she wanted to be exclusive an she laughed at me cos she was like “who the hell uses the term exclusive? you’re such an old man” dat was probably after we had been on like four or so dates. I jus enjoyed bein round her.

Delilah: It was super cute, he gets all blushy and adorable. He was nervous and I have no clue as to why, he had already asked to share my calendar with him to see what dates work for us and everything. Like that’s a pretty big deal.

Q: What’s a normal day in the life like for the Horans?

Niall: nine times outta ten shes up before me, she was like dat even before the girls. She can stay awake till six in da bloody mornin and be up at eight ready to rock n roll. S’a bit disturbin, but our days when M’not on tour are very like every other married couples... jus wit a set of twins.

Delilah: We go on a walk in the mornings, we’ve been doing that ever since I was pregnant, and while on the walk is when we lay out the game plan for the day. So if he has any meetings or anything he’ll tell me so I can plan my day around it. So like yesterday he had a photo shoot for something-

Niall: Cos m’a model now. Just so ya know.

Delilah: Right...so anyway he had his model thing so the girls and I brought him lunch and he was home at a decent time to help with their bedtime routine.

Niall: I feel like we are pretty normal ta be honest like we don’t do a lot of extravagant shit.

Delilah: Not anymore no.

Niall: We were never like jet settin on tons of trips and stuff we’ve always kinda just went from New York to California. We like ta lay low.

Delilah: As low as a former member of one of the largest boy bands in the world can lay....he forgets who he is sometimes. But yes we do kinda just stick to the two places and don’t go out much unless it’s to dinner because I like to eat out a lot. It’s a problem that I’m working on. Oh and Niall likes to go to parties without me but that’s not typically part of a normal day in the life of us.

Niall: M’not even gonna go der wit you.

Q: Speaking of parties, Delilah it’s pretty obvious you don’t like being left at home while Niall goes and has fun.

Delilah: Yeah he’s an asshole. He met Post Malone while I was at home trying to get comfy with my damn pregnancy pillow! And him and Shawn just are super annoying when they get drunk together. But I don’t mind him having his bro time and going out without me, I just like being dramatic.

Niall: Yeah m’da worst at like tryin ta plan parties and invitin her cos half the time they are so last minute and I know she does not do last minute.

Delilah: No I need at least four hours to prepare myself to be around people and to like get dressed and all that not so fun stuff.

Q: Who said I love you first?

Niall: She did. During an argument matter of fact, it was pretty memorable.

Delilah: I said it during a moment of passion Niall James not a full blown argument. it was like a “God why do I have to love you so much?” Don’t make it sound so dramatic.

Niall: M’pretty sure yelling it in the middle of a “passionate argument” is the same as jus sayin it in an argument babe but okay.

Delilah: It’s totally different, you’re just a dumb boy you wouldn't understand.

Q: Rumor has it you two broke up briefly while Niall was on tour just after releasing Flicker. Is that true?

Delilah: Yes it’s true. Couples take breaks. Look at Ross and Rachel, it worked out fine for them.

Niall: Really ya gonna bring Ross and Rachel into dis? They suffered fo a few years before actually bein happy...

Delilah: I mean are you upset that I forgave you too soon?

Q: Why did you two break up?

Delilah: Yeah Niall why did we break up?

Niall: Yer such an arse. Uhhh can we skip dis one? We’re allowed like one skip right?

Delilah: Nope. The people want to know and you always say you’re a man of the people.

Niall: I cheated. Next question please.

Q: What songs on Flicker are about Delilah?

Niall: None of em.

Delilah: Did you hear that world? I was not the muse for that sad ass album so stop blaming me for breaking this man’s heart.

Niall: Slow hands is bout her I guess, it was written after a date wit her to a bar so yeah, slow hands s’bout her.

Delilah: I'll allow that one.

Niall: Oh and So Long. But that’s not on the album so...but most of the songs I didn’t necessarily write wit anyone in mind more of an emotion I wanted ta get across.

Q: When the two of you were dating who was the best at keeping in touch with the other?

Niall: She was at first then I’d say it was pretty even once we got a bit mo serious. We always had a good long chat at the end of each day tho no matter if we only exchanged two texts throughout the day.

Delilah: In the beginning I was just nosey and wanted to know what he was doing all the time. Then I realized he legit is either in the studio or he’s playing golf or at some sort of event. We still do the phone call each night when he’s away.

Q: What’s something you love about each other?

Niall: Easy! Her love of life, she is someone that ya jus wanna be around cos she will make ya smile and makes ya ten times happier jus being in the same room as her.

Delilah: Awe you’re so sweet! I honestly love the fact Niall will never tell you anything just because he knows you want to hear it, he doesn’t sugar coat things and I know that sounds odd to like love that about someone but it’s just refreshing. I love knowing that if I ask him for his opinion it's going to be 100% honest and how he truly feels and sometimes it makes me want to smack him but mostly I just appreciate what he has to say.

Niall: Oh an I love her laugh.

Delilah: Niall also has a very nice ass so you can put that down as something I love as well.

Niall: Delilah Grace...m’not arguing though.

Q: So Niall this is mainly for you, how has it been dealing with how often Delilah posts about your private life since normally you like to keep that to yourself.

Delilah: Ohhhh good question!

Niall: I don’t mind it really, s’not like she posts pics of me doin anythin scandalous. I think she shows another side ta me dat the fans enjoy, it shows them dat I’m like I always say, a normal guy wit jus an abnormal job. Also her captions are jus...somethin else she has such a way wit words.

Delilah: He laughs so hard at the photos I post of him looking annoyed. He loves those the best.

Niall: I’d also say she’s da reason my posts have gotten a bit more personal. She’s helped me realize dat my Instagram an twitter doesn’t have ta jus be all Niall Horan the musician. The fans and everyone wanna jus get ta know me.

Delilah: You’re welcome world.

Q: So you two have been married for almost a year now right? What’s been the best part of being married?

Delilah: I get lots of free stuff, it’s pretty freakin great if I’m being honest.

Niall: Ignore her, yes we’ve been married almost a year now, hard ta believe s’only been a year.

Delilah: I mean having the girls seemed to take up a big part of the year so I’d honestly say the best part of being married so far is just knowing he’s fully mine now and I get to be in his life forever. Sounds lame when I say it out loud.

Niall: I think the best part is jus knowin that she’s there. Like she always has my back on anythin an bein able to point to her an be like “oh dats my wife.” I enjoy that quite a lot if m’bein totally honest wit ya.

Q: So the twins they are adorable by the way, what was your initial reaction when you found out you were having twins?

Niall: I absolutely almost shit myself it took me completely off guard.

Delilah: Same! But really I was kinda hoping I was having twins because lord was I getting huge kinda faster than I had anticipated.

Niall: It’s also in the long run good cos we only wanted two so like boom! One an done is what they say right?

Delilah: No one says that about kids you weirdo.

Niall: S’for sure a thing people say even bout kids.

Q: Who takes care of the kids more?

Delilah: Me, just because Niall has a job while I stay home all day in my sweatpants eating.

Niall: Obviously it’s Delilah, she is an actual angel fo everythin she does for the girls and myself even. An jus fo the record she doesn’t wear sweatpants all day, she eventually puts like dem leggin type pants on.

Delilah: Thanks honey.

Q: So Delilah what would you do if you came home to Niall asleep on the couch when he’s supposed to be watching the girls?

Delilah: It depends. If the girls are also asleep I’d probably cry at how cute they all look passed out.

Niall: Dey are way cuter dan me when they’re alseep.

Delilah: But if he’s asleep and they aren’t...oh hell will be raised in the Horan house. I’d probably smack him with a throw pillow and never let him live that moment down. Like even Shawn hasn’t fallen asleep while watching the girls yet and he’s only watched them after they are asleep so Niall and I can go have dinner alone.

Q: So is Shawn The Godfather?

Niall: Did he tell you to ask dat?

Delilah: He’s one of them yes.

Niall: We have two godfathers and two godmothers.

Delilah: We are just extra like that, don’t even ask why.

Q: Last question, how have you handled the fans response towards your relationship? The overall response seems to be everyone pretty much adore the two of you.

Niall: Oh it’s been great really, only a few people here an there have some shitty remark ta say but it’s always something stupid.

Delilah: I think after the first two years it just switched and it’s been for the most part pretty nice. I think at first the fans just didn’t know how serious this was going to be and everyone legit loves Niall so they wanted to make sure I was worthy of him. But I mean we’ve been together for so long now that they’ve fully accepted me.

Niall: Dey have realized she’s not goin anywhere. I mean she met me when I was still in One Direction like jus before the hiatus so she’s been through a lot wit me and the fans love er.

Delilah: Diall till death.

Niall: Oh yeah dats our Uh..what they call it? Ship name? Diall!

#niall and delilah q&a #interview with the horans #niall and delilah #niall horan instagram #niall horan insta story #niall horan #niall horan imagine #niall horan drabble #niall horan fanfiction #one direction imagines #one direction blurb #my little irish marshmallow #solo niall horan #one direction #one direction fanfiction

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agentmarymargaretskitz · 5 years

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My Name’s Jeff

Happy birthday to my birthday twin @somebodyhelpthenotdeadfreds! I love our shenanigans with Legends and Hannibal and Constangreen and everything. Even though we’re angst monsters, I couldn’t help but make something on the side of fluffy. Here’s to hopefully surviving the finale tonight and angsting and self-projecting on Gary more!

Ao3

“Wakey wakey.”

John sat upright in the armchair he’d crashed in the night before. He had vague memories of splitting one of Rip Hunter’s last bottles of whiskey with Charlie and Mick in the parlor. Based on the minor ache in his skull, he’d had his fair share of it. There had been worse hangovers though,

“What’s happening?” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes to get a clearer image of Charlie perched in front of him. “Did we break time again?”

“Nope,” the shapeshifter snorted. “Another missions. Up and at ‘em, Johno!”

He groaned and rolled off the chair. Mick was absent from the parlor, but soon appeared on the bridge a few moments later looking as miserable as John felt. At least the arsonist had made it to his room the previous night. The rest of the team, including Ava, was already waiting for the three of them to be ready for duty.

“Sharpie,” John raised his hand in greeting. “Good to see you. Where’s the rest of the Bureau entourage?”

“Mona and Nate are holding down the fort,” the director replied curtly. “Gary took the day off. Something about picking up his dad from the airport, but that’s the point. We’ve got a new alert that came up this morning.”

“Well, what’s cropped up this time?”

Ray pulled up a few newspaper clippings on the central console. “Our latest mythtery-”

The reactions to that ranged from cringes to sighs.

“-is in Minnesota, 1989. People in a small town start getting attacked and killed by some kind of wild animal. Authorities are never able to figure out what it is, but people reported hearing dogs or wolves nearby the crime scenes. No normal animal can do this much damage.”

A photograph enlarged to display a severely mauled corpse. It was hard to tell it had been ever been human.

Zari shuddered. “Gross.”

Sara nodded. “Whatever did this wasn’t originally from our world. What kind of creature does this though?”

John walked forward and took a closer look at the pictures. An involuntary shudder traveled down his spine. He had seen bodies in this condition before and knew what could do that kind of damage. The worst part about it was that theses creatures were only able to do bidding for another.

“You recognize it too, don’t you?” Charlie said.

“Hellhound,” John confirmed.

“Those are a thing?” Ray asked.

“Oh, they are,” Charlie nodded. “Except they weren’t in the slammer with me. They’re from-“

“Let me take a wild guess, hell?”

John nodded to answer Zari’s question. “They can be summoned from there, but it takes an immense amount of energy.”

“What’s the point of summoning a hellhound?” Mick muttered. “Get a hitman.”

“Oh, if you really want revenge, then you call up a hellhound,” John told him. “They will do all your bidding and cause as much destruction as your black heart desires. Controlling them ain’t easy, and they can go on a rampage if you lose it.”

“Okay, so now we know what it is,” Sara said, bringing the conversation back to the mission. “So someone could have lost control over the hellhound, that explains the massacre. Four people died in total during this, so any one of them could have been the original target. My money’s on the first dead guy.”

“Makes sense,” Ava agreed. “We find out who did it, get to them, and then deal with the hound. I’m going to have to call Mona and see how much she needs to prep to care for one.”

“Don’t bother,” John shook his head and turned around. “This one is going straight back to hell. You can’t keep a killing machine like this in the Bureau.”

“We’ll see about that,” Ava muttered. “Okay, who was the first victim?”

Ray scrolled past a few articles. “A plumber. He was killed outside his home in the middle of the night. No witnesses.”

“Why would someone want to kill a plumber?” Zari asked as everyone made their way to their seats to strap in for the time jump.

“No idea,” Sara shrugged. “But clearly someone bit off more than they could chew with revenge.”

~~~

The plan was straightforward. Half of the Legends would tail the plumber. The rest of them would search for any sign of the hellhound and piece together the trail of destruction to see if there was any connections between the attacks. Unfortunately, John hadn’t been able to find any sign of a summoning from hell occurring recently. However, there were traces of other magical presences in the town, but John and Charlie couldn’t figure out what it belonged to.

“You sure this is the one who died?” John asked as he, Ray, and Charlie sat out in a car outside the plumber’s house. “He doesn’t seem to have done anything to piss anyone off.”

“Z thinks he’s clean too,” Charlie agreed. “She ran his record. But then again, there’s always something deep down.”

“Hey, he’s coming out,” Ray pointed ahead of the house where their victim was now exiting with a bag of trash. “Be quiet.”

“He won’t be able to hear-” Charlie began as John started rolling down the window. “Hey, what are you-”

“Shhh,” John frowned. “You smell that?”

Ray’s nose wrinkled. “Smells like sulfur.”

“It’s here,” Charlie opened the car door. “Let’s do this.”

The men followed after the shapeshifter as the smell became even stronger. A different man was coming down the other end of the street in a nice suit while the plumber lugged the trash bag towards a can on the burn. From the shadows, Charlie swore someone was chanting in a different language before the pavement on the street cracked. The Legends, along with the men on the street, turned towards it and watched it grow larger. A massive dark beast burst out of the ground, snarling and slobbering. The plumber screamed, but the hellhound was more focused on the other man. Charlie had a sudden realization that they might have been following the wrong victim.

“Uhhh,” the new man took a step back. “Nice dog?”

The hellhound growled and lunged- only to be clipped across the snout by a laser.

“Stay back!” Ray shouted, his gauntlet aimed at the beast as it turned towards him.

“And now you’ve pissed it off,” John grumbled, turning to the stunned plumber while Ray shot the hound again. “Get inside, now!”

The plumber didn’t need to be told twice as he scampered back to his house. Meanwhile, the other man was backing away as the hellhound got back on its paws and crept towards him. Ray hurried forward and did all that he could to keep the hellhound distracted. Charlie made a move to grab the man off the sidewalk and run him back to the car. Ray was right behind with the Atom gauntlet still on his arm and pointed at the hellhound. John was doing some kind of spell, one Charlie recognized would send the creature back to the pits of hell.

Except it wasn’t working.

“John, come on!”

“Hang on!” he shouted before swearing and chanting something else that sent the hellhound flying back into a streetlight.

“Why didn’t you send it back to hell?” Charlie yelled as John ran back to the car and drove inside.

“I couldn’t!” John shot back as Charlie stepped on the gas. “Someone’s keeping it tethered to Earth.”

“Uh, what’s happening?” the man they’d brought from the street whimpered in the backseat. “I don’t know who you people are, but you can’t take me. I have to go home.”

“Do that and you endanger anyone there that you love,” John snapped while they all kept running red lights. “I managed to slow that thing down with a spell. Its tracking will be messed up long enough to give us a day. Sooner or later, it’ll wear off and then it’ll come after you again. Right now, the safest place for you is with us.”

“Oh god,” the man murmured, eyes wide in terror. “I can’t go home. They’ll be in danger. Wait, you’re in danger too now if you’re with me, right?”

“Danger’s just another Tuesday for us,” Ray offered lightly. “Don’t worry, we’re going to help sort this out. Then you can go back to your home.”

“Will my kids at home be safe from the hellhound if I’m not there?”

Charlie frowned at how calm he was while calling the thing a hellhound, but John nodded. “They only go after your live scent.”

“So they’ll be okay. Oh, thank goodness. Wherever you’re taking me, can I get a phone to call my sister? I had a date and she’s the one watching my kids.”

Ray smiled. “Definitely, but don’t mention this whole…situation just yet.”

“Yeah,” the man nodded. “Do you people work for the government or something?”

“In a way,” John shrugged, turning around to the backseat. “You gotta a name?”

“Jeff. Jeff Green.”

Charlie looked away from the road long enough to meet Jeff’s eyes and could tell he was hiding something. “Well, Jeff, don’t worry. We’ll get this all sorted.”

~~~

Once they got back to the Waverider, they put Jeff in the old brig with a cot and a phone that he could call his sister with. The group listened in on the conversation and were relieved that he didn’t giver her too much information about the circumstances. Meanwhile, they all tried to figure out what to do next, since the plumber hadn’t been the target like they suspected. Gideon did find out that the last person to die in the string of attacks had been Jeff Green, and the activity had ceased immediately after. Since the plumber had been saved, they now had figure out how the other two deaths could have connected to Jeff and how to stop all three from being killed.

“The hellhound’s still out there, but he can’t track Jeff right now,” Ray told the others. “John put a sort of spell on it that gives us a day before it strikes again. So it can’t go after Jeff for a while.”

“That’s good news,” Sara nodded. “Can it go after anyone else?”

“It’s like blindfolding someone’s senses,” John told her. “The beast can still run around, but it won’t be certain of what it’s following. Daytime also makes it weak, it’s sensitive to light and it’ll hide. So We’ve just got whatever’s left of the night to worry about now, then time to figure this out in the day.”

“Okay,” Sara nodded. “Ava and I will go stake out the other two just in case for the rest of the night. The rest of you stay on board and see if you can figure out why the hellhound went after Jeff.”

“Speaking of that,” Charlie turned away from the screen. “Either of you boys notice that he knew what a hellhound was, even though we never told him.”

Ray frowned as he recalled the conversation. “We…we didn’t tell him.”

Everyone looked at the screen where Jeff was now pacing back and forth in front of the phone.

“He seemed pretty concerned that he couldn’t go home to his family,” Charlie said. “If I was more a bleeding heart, I would focus on that too.”

“So what, he knows monsters are real?” Mick asked.

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” John sighed. “Town’s got a magical stench about it. There’s more than just a hellhound here. But Jeff is a human.”

“Doesn’t mean he might not know anyone who is secretly a fugitive,” Ava suggested. “Where was he before the hellhound attacked?”

“A date. He was coming back from it, I think.”

“If I might interrupt,” Gideon called. “But Dr. Green appears to be making a call to a second number. Perhaps that will shed some more light on the situation.”

“Turn the audio on,” Sara ordered. “Everyone hush for this.”

On the screen, Jeff stopped pacing and stood where he was in the cell. “Puck, it’s Jeff. A hellhound came after me when I was heading back to my car. I’m safe with some people, don’t worry. I don’t know if you’re in danger because of it, but please be careful. I can’t lose another person I love.”

With that, he hung up and sat back down on the cot.

“Well then,” Sara spun to face the rest of the team. “He does know about hellhounds.”

“And so does this Puck he called,” Ava added. “That’s two people so far.”

Zari cracked her fingers. “I’m going to see if I can find anything on this guy. Or Jeff for that matter.”

“Ava and I will watch over the other two,” Sara told them. “The rest of you watch over Jeff or see if there’s anything to break the spell keeping it here.”

~~~

“How much did you find on Jeff or Puck?” Sara asked as she stumbled into the kitchen at sunrise.

“Nothing on Puck,” Zari reported. “I don’t have a last name, but I can’t find anyone with one that name anywhere in this time. Jeff Green, on the other hand, is about as normal as you can get. He’s a dentist in the town and has no priors, no arrests, not mob ties. His wife died a few years ago and he has three kids, but there’s nothing remarkable about him at all.”

“A hellhound attacked him,” John reminded them. “Which means he did something.”

“Well, he did say he had that date,” Charlie said as she sat on top of the counter with a box of cereal. “And with other magical creatures in the town, it’s possible he could have been on a date with one of them. Maybe it went poorly and this was revenge?”

“Pretty strong revenge,” Sara muttered. “But what if…what if Puck was the date?”

Zari nodded. “Jeff did say he couldn’t lose someone else he loved, right? Makes sense to me.”

Sara yawned. “John, can you talk to Jeff and see if you can get him to tell you anything about Puck? Zari, keep digging, there’s got to be something. Maybe Puck’s a fake name or-”

“Oh, bloody hell!” Charlie slammed her hands on the counter before sliding off and storming out. The others stared in confusion before turning back to each other.

“I’m going to look into Puck,” Zari announced.

“Gonna sleep soon,” Sara yawned. “John?”

“Yeah, I’m going.”

~~~

When John entered the brig, Jeff was awake. He looked up quickly as soon as the doors of the cell opened. The unease on his face was all too obvious. Clean record or not, he’d clearly been involved in something. Time to find out what that was.

“Just me,” John said as he entered the cell. “Captain asked me to check up on you. Quite the scare you had last night.”

“I’m okay. Have you dealt with the thing yet? Not to be impatient, but I really want to get back home.”

“As soon as it’s taken care of, you can,” John promised, pulling out a cigarette. “You wouldn’t happen to know why it would want to attack you, would you?”

Jeff shook his head. “No. Last time I checked, I haven’t pissed off any hellhounds.”

“Okay,” John flicked his lighter and lit the cigarette. “Although we never told you it was a hellhound. You knew it all on your own, didn’t you? Now that makes my job a little easier, but it doesn’t explain why a mortal like yourself knows about them.”

The dentist grinned weakly. “Lucky guess?”

“Did Puck tell you about them?” John pressed, stepping closer. “After all, you did call and tell him about it after you made that call to your sister. How ‘bout you tell me how he fits into all of this?”

“You listened in on my phone call,” Jeff sighed. “Well, he didn’t pick up, so I had to leave a message. He won’t be any help until he gets it. But when he does, he’ll be the one who comes and finds me with the people who took me off the street.”

“Sorry for saving your life,” John muttered as he exhaled a stream of smoke. “But you’re going to need to start telling us stuff. For starters, you know about magical creatures? Was it Puck who told you?”

Jeff nodded.

“He’s one of them, isn’t he?”

“Not my story to tell.”

“Alright, then how about one you can tell? What is your relationship with Puck? Secret lovers? Boyfriends? An affair?”

Jeff stared at him. “Why would I tell you a thing when I don’t even know who you are? Maybe you did save me from getting dragged to hell, but I’m going to need a little more information first.”

“John Constantine. Exorcist, demonologist, master or petty dabbler of the dark arts depending on the day. Also a time traveler, I can add that to the resume. Now with that out of the way, tell me about Puck.”

It seemed to satisfy Jeff, who gave a nod. “Yeah, he’s my boyfriend. We’re not public about it though.”

“Small town problems, right? How long you two been together?”

“Five months next week. We were talking about him meeting my kids soon.”

“Isn’t that charming?” John smirked. “Think they’ll like him?”

Jeff’s lips twitched into a smile. “Levi’s still a toddler, and he’s pretty happy with anyone who doesn’t take a crayon away from him. He draws on just about anything. Paper, the walls, books, his clothes. My oldest could go either way. JJ was so close with Miriam, and he really misses her. But he also told me that he’s glad I’m happier lately. I’d rather my kids remember me being happy in their childhood instead of sad.”

Jeff sighed. “But the middle one…I really hope he likes Puck. He takes more after me than Miriam. I know he’s been having problems fitting in at school and making friends. Hopefully this will be a good thing for him and not make the other stuff worse. He’s got a heart of gold, but he’s so shy and lets himself get beaten down so much.”

John flicked some ash onto the floor. “He might grow out of it.”

“I hope so,” the dentist chuckled. “JJ used to be shy too before he was loud and chaotic, but Miriam was the one who got him out of his shell before she died.”

“Well, losing a mother is hard,” John murmured. “Some fathers become the worst versions of themselves when that happens. But that doesn’t seem to be you. You care about your family. You don’t want them to be in danger. That’s why you came willingly with us, because you couldn’t endanger your sons.”

“Well, they’re the brightest parts of my life,” Jeff told him, opening up his wallet and passing a picture to John. “I want them to be okay and safe.”

John studied the picture of Jeff, a woman who must have been the dead wife, and three boys sitting on a couch.

“Stacey, my sister, took this when Levi was four months old,” Jeff explained, reaching over and pointing out each child. “He’s on Miriam’s lap. JJ’s right next to her. And between him and me, that’s the middle boy. That’s Gary.”

“Gary,” John frowned as pieces started to fit together. “Gary…Green?”

“Yes.”

John looked back down at the picture and little Gary’s face before passing it back to Jeff. “I have to go.”

~~~

“Is there a reason why we’re on the bridge?” Ava asked as she stretched out again. “Did we find a way to corner the hellhound?”

“What about Charlie?” Ray added. “It’s been hours since she left the ship.”

“Yeah, and she still hasn’t come back yet,” John told him. “So I did talk with Jeff. Puck is the one who told him about creatures, so he’s probably one of them. Also, he is Jeff’s boyfriend. Zari, are you sure you didn’t find anything else interesting on Jeff?”

She shook her head. “No, I checked twice.”

“Not even that he’s Gary’s dad?” John challenged.

“We have Time Dweeb’s dad?” Mick frowned. “Ugh,”

“Mr. Constantine is correct,” Gideon confirmed. “Jeff Green is indeed the father of Gary Green. An earlier check of Bureau records confirmed the birth certificate.”

“And you never told me?” Zari exclaimed. “Gideon, come on!”

“Well, you didn’t ask about his children.”

“We know now,” Sara ended the argument. “So Gary’s dad could be killed by a hellhound. Ava, you mentioned that he was picking up his dad from the airport. What else do you know about his family?”

“Ahhh,” Ava frowned. “His mom’s dead. He has a dad. That’s it.”

“Helpful,” Zari mumbled. “Well, I did find out that a street over from the plumber, a man named Puck Shakespeare is renting a house. While I have a difficult time believing that’s a real name, he’s our guy.”

“Could he have summoned the hellhound to go after Jeff?” Ray inquired, eyes moving to the feed of the brig.

“According to Jeff, they were talking about introducing Puck to his kids,” John said. “Things sound good between them. It doesn’t make sense that he’d summon a hellhound because he didn’t want to meet his boyfriend’s kids.”

“Well, we don’t have a trace of the hellhound,” Sara sighed. “Gideon, what’s the effect on the timeline if we don’t stop this?”

“Current projections place Gary Green as an FBI analyst in 2019 instead of joining the Time Bureau,” the AI answered. “Mr. Rory would die at the hands of Captain Lance while she was under the influence of the death totem. Director Sharpe goes missing and the Time Bureau is headed by Director Neil McNeil, who enacts a series of regulations limiting activity of the Legends and prevents you from completing several missions critical to protecting the timeline.”

Sara shook her head. “Things take a turn for the worse.”

“He’s the one who came up with the strategy to track the death totem,” John said. “And he came to you when Ava was missing. Gary’s got brothers too. Gideon, would this impact their timelines?”

“The art community never discovers Levi Green’s works, and a bestselling book is never written. A popular travel vlog, Adventure Man!, is also a victim.”

“That’s Nate’s favorite series!” Ray looked horrified. “No, he can’t lose Adventure Man!.”

“Okay, so we’re saving Jeff,” Sara decided. “Wherever Charlie ran off to, it better pay off in the end!”

“Oh, it will!” the shapeshifter announced as she made her entrance. “Lucky for you lot, I’ve been seeking out help, and I knew exactly who to look for. He’s helped me fill in all the gaps.”

A man entered the room after Charlie, raising a hand in greeting with a smile. Ava frowned, unsure of what his purpose was. John, on the other hand, was regarding the newcomer with open suspicion.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce you to Puck,” Charlie said. “He’s a fairy from the High Court of King Oberon.”

Puck bowed with a cocky smirk, a shower of sparkles falling from his hands.

“Well, the name on the rental agreement makes sense now,” Zari sighed. “Took it right from Shakespeare.”

“Bold of you to assume I copied Billy,” Puck replied. “Without my help and influence, your world would never know of that night.”

“Puck’s an old friend of me before and during prison,” Charlie explained. “His cell was two down from mine. When the jail busted, he ended up here, met Jeff after a while, and started dating him.”

“Speaking of him,” Puck glared at the Legends. “Who’s going to tell me where my boyfriend is?”

“Not until we make sure it wasn’t you who sent the hellhound after him,” John responded, stepping forward.

“I swear by the High Court, by the King and Queen, that I would never do anything to harm a hair on Jeff’s head.”

“He’s right,” Charlie nodded. “He really wouldn’t. Puck likes mischief as much as the rest of his kind, but this isn’t his style. I should know, I was on the receiving end of it and it’s not hellhounds.”

Sara’s arms were folded over her chest, but she did relax somewhat. Ava knew it was a sign she didn’t totally trust Puck yet. “So do either of you know who it is?”

“We do,” Charlie confirmed. “I heard someone chanting when we were stalking the plumber. I didn’t recognize it at first, but then I remembered what it was. It’s Lilim, the language of the demons.”

“Once Charlie told me that was it, I figured out who it was,” Puck continued. “One of my exes was a demon who calls himself Michael. He was with me when we first came to Earth after the prison broke and wanted to get back together. But I refused to let myself fall into his darkness again and rejected him. He’s always been jealous, so it’s most likely he’s the one behind this as an attempt to get me back. Like killing the mortal man I love is going to send me running back into his arms!”

“A jealous demon,” Mick looked interested by that. “Can I kill him?”

“By all means, you may,” Puck nodded, “Make sure it sticks.”

“What about the hellhound?” Ava asked. “It’s still going after Jeff, right?”

“Fairy magic can fix that,” Puck promised. “Just get me close enough to Michael, and I can break the spell. But night is falling soon, which means the hound will return. Now that I’m here with Jeff, it’s likely that Michael will show up.”

Ava sighed. “So that means we’re getting ready for a fight?”

“Indeed,” Puck informed them. “But before we do this, may I please see my boyfriend!”

“John and I will take you,” Sara volunteered, grabbing John by the arm. “Babe, can you get everyone else ready?”

“Not a problem,” Ava looked behind her at the front windows of the ship. “Hey, Gideon, how resistant is the Waverider to hellhound attacks?”

“I don’t know, but I am not ready to find out today, Director Sharpe.”

~~~

John wasn’t sure why he and Sara were both supervising the reunion, but it was shorter than he had expected it to be.

“I was so worried when I got the voicemail,” Puck said to Jeff once the mushy stuff was out of the way. “I thought the hellhound got to you until Charlie showed up and told me I wasn’t too late.”

“Yeah, they rescued me,” Jeff told him. “But the hellhound’s still out there. It wants to hunt me down.”

“It is and it does,” Puck sighed and took Jeff’s hands. “It’s my fault, Jeff. The hellhound is after you because of me. I brought my world into yours, but I’m going to fix it all. I love you, okay?”

“I love you too.”

Puck smiled, but it barely masked the sadness on his face. “Stay here until I get back.”

With that, he left the cell and went out of the room. John and Sara followed after him.

“You really do care about him, don’t you?” John asked as they walked down the hall.

“I do,” Puck nodded. “Which makes what I’m about to do even harder.”

“We have a plan all worked out,” Sara said. “The hellhound will be here soon with your ex, and we’ll send them both back to hell.”

“She’s right, it’ll be a piece of cake with your magic.”

“Oh, I know,” Puck looked back at them. “But loving Jeff and letting him into my world, it’s too dangerous. He could have been killed by that hellhound. I can’t put him in danger anymore.”

John stopped. “Hang on, you’re not letting a jealous ex break up the two of you, are you?”

“It’s more than him,” Puck sighed. “This hellhound would never have gone after him if I hadn’t fallen in love. Jeff will get hurt because he loves me, but I can’t let that happen. It’ll be safer if I leave and take his memories of me away.”

“That would just hurt him more,” Sara said.

John nodded. “You’re going to leave him with a blank space in his memories if you do. Not to mention that you damn yourself to feel the pain of breaking your own heart while he never knows.”

“Listen, exorcist,” Puck snarled. “You and I both know there has to be a balance of the light and dark in the world. Jeff lives in the light. People like you, Charlie, and myself, we are the dark. When we love people who don’t walk our path, it darkens their brightness. Breaking the balance…it hurts them.”

John opened his mouth to argue back, but he couldn’t find the words. Sara gave him a pointed look before leaving him alone with the fairy. The way Puck was speaking had been how John turned Gary away from him. He’d even used the bloody light and dark balance line. John knew he had broken Gary’s heart as well as his own, but he hadn’t wanted Gary Green to become another Desmond, another Gary Lester. But that had been before he traveled with the Legends, before he met Sara and Ava. John knew he hadn’t entirely changed, but some things had.

“Maybe it does sometimes,” he told Puck. “But it doesn’t always.”

The fairy rolled his eyes as if he was dealing with a child. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That’s where you’re mistaken,” John shot back. “Because I do. I know exactly what you think of yourself after what Jeff’s been through!”

“Oh, do you really?”

“Yes! I had someone I cared about too. He’s more like Jeff than you could ever imagine. He cared about me the same way Jeff does with you, but he had so much light that I couldn’t let myself tarnish that. So I broke his heart, gave him the same light and dark speech, and moved on right up until I met Sara and Ava, that other blonde on the bridge. Two different worlds, Sara came back from the dead, and she found she could be happy with Ava. Now I regret what I did because there is no way I can fix it! That’s what’s going to happen to you if you break Jeff’s heart!”

Puck glowered at him before walking away quickly.

“Do you really regret not taking the chance with Gary?”

John hadn’t realized that Sara had been waiting by the corner. “How’d you know it was Gary?”

“The light and dark speech. Gary told Nate, and he told the rest of us.”

“Blabbermouth,” John muttered. “I messed things up with Gary to the point where I can’t fix them. If Puck truly loves Jeff, they can work out. He just can’t see every terrible thing as a sign that it’s not meant to be.”

Sara smirked. “Look at you having hope for Gary’s dad.”

“Don’t ever tell him that.”

“Captain Lance,” Gideon said. “The hellhound is approaching our location, and it’s not alone.”

“Time to get ready for a fight,” the captain sighed. “John, get Puck and the others ready. I’ll be there in a moment.”

~~~

As the Legends and Puck exited the ship, the hellhound was sitting obediently beside a tall man in a blue suit. When he saw Puck, an icy smile crawled onto his face. “Hello, darling.”

“Michael,” Puck’s tone was venomous. “You should have never done this. We’re over. Move on. I have.”

“With a human,” the demon sneered. “Come on, Puck. Really?”

“And you think killing the man I love would make me go back to you?” Puck shook his head, magic swirling around his hands. “Think again. Now release the hound from its bond to kill.”

The smile grew wider as Michael giggled. “I’ll release it!”

He said something in another language and the hellhound was on its feet. With a loud growl, it charged at the assembled group. Mick was the first to fire off his heat gun, eliciting a howl of pain when the flames met fur. It only slowed the creature down for a moment before it swiped at them with a large paw. The arsonist went flying into a tree as the hellhound turned to the next people in its path. When she realized it was them, Zari grabbed Charlie and flew into the air with her totem.

“Okay, you’ve had your fun!” Charlie yelled as Zari tried to avoid the lunging beast. “Cut it out! You’re not going to get what you want!”

“Oh, I’ll kill as many people as I have to in order to get him back,” Michael shouted back. “Starting with you lot!”

Ray and Ava made a move to go after him, but the hellhound cut them off. It was then that John realized Sara hadn’t rejoined them yet. He only had a second to process this before Puck suddenly tackled him to avoid being taken out by the Atom flying back from a blow.

“I need to get closer,” Puck said, getting back up on his feet. “Ugh, Michael had to get a big one. He’s really overcompensating.”

John made a face as he thought through the spells that he knew. Settling on one, he began to chant in Latin, trying to trap the beast in a sigil.

“You’re a clever one,” Michael sounded impressed. “But it’s not enough.”

Michael spoke something in Lilim, and the sigil dissolved. Another phrase in Lilim, this one sounding much like a command, made the beast turn to face John head on. Its eyes glowed like embers as it started running at him. John started to summon up another sigil.

A yell came from behind him. “Hey, pooch!”

The next thing John knew, a rod was being jammed into the hellhound’s eye. It screeched and backed away quickly, the rod swinging around haphazardly. John took the opportunity to run out of the way. Looking up, he saw Jeff standing there, hands shaking and eyes slightly widened. Sara was standing next to him, a proud look on her face.

Michael stared at his hellhound, then back up to Jeff. “The mortal.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Jeff shouted. “I am. Maybe it’s not a demon, or some other magical creature, but I still love him. And I’m pretty sure that he loves me!”

“I do!” Puck appeared from behind Michael. “And I’m not letting anyone take him away from me!”

Michael spun around and Puck grabbing his chest. His hand started to glow as did the demon’s chest, the dark outlines of his ribs prominent. Puck pulled his hand back after a few moments. Michael sunk to his knees and the hound stopped flailing around. It started to whimper in pain now.

“It’s been freed from its task,” Puck announced as the Legends and Jeff moved forward. “Now it’s time for them to return to hell.”

“I’ve got that bit,” John looked down at the demon and started to summon the opening to hell.

Michael scowled up at Puck. “You’ve made a mistake. We’re immortals, he isn’t. You’re from two different worlds. It won’t be a happy ending.”

“So what if we’re not the same?” Jeff asked. “Everything that makes him different is part of why I love Puck. It doesn’t change how I feel about him.”

Puck reached over with a smile to take his hand. “Me neither.”

The portal to hell was wide open now. The hound was cast inside first, then John set his sights on Michael.

“I hope you get what’s coming from your pals down there,” he snarled.

With that, he kicked the demon through the portal and closed it.

“Is that it?” Sara asked as Zari finally made it back down to the ground with Charlie.

John nodded silently. Puck and Jeff turned to each other and started to kiss.

“Let’s get cleaned up and get him home,” Ava said. “Plus, I’m pretty sure Rory has a concussion over there.”

“Eh, he’s got a thick head,” Sara replied. “He’ll be fine.”

“Are we ever going to tell Gary about this?” Charlie inquired, pointing over to Jeff and Puck. “That his dads dated a fugitive and we saved him?”

Ava shook her head. “No. If he remembers this, then he’ll tell us. Right now we just need to get his dad home.”

“And what about Puck?”

Zari’s question had them all looking towards the couple again.

“He hasn’t done any harm,” John murmured. “Let them be happy for as long as they can.”

“For once, I agree with him,” Ava said. “They’re two people in love. They deserve a chance.”

~~~

“Thank you again for saving me. I owe my life to you.”

“It’s what we do,” Sara smiled at Jeff. “Just have a good life.”

“And look after your kids,” Ava added. “They’ve got a good dad.”

“They really do,” Puck agreed with her, kissing Jeff. “I can’t wait to meet them tomorrow. I’ll see you then, my love.”

With a puff of smoke, he vanished.

“Fairy magic,” John shook his head. He gave Jeff a pat on the shoulder. “Let’s get you home to your kids.”

Together with Ray, they loaded into the car they were “borrowing”. The drive to the Green house was silent, save for Jeff pointing out where they’d need to turn. John did catch Ray looking over at him a few times, but he thankfully kept his mouth shut. He was glad for the silence right now.

Once they arrived at the Green home, John got out to take Jeff to the door. “Here you are. Home sweet home.”

“Yeah,” Jeff looked up at it happily. “I’m glad to be back here alive.”

“I’ll bet,” John agreed. “Listen, mate, I have two things I want to say.”

Jeff turned to him, waiting. John exhaled and glanced at the house quickly, wondering what little Gary Green was up to right now while little John Constantine was sleeping with his latest bruises.

“First, don’t give up with Puck. I saw tonight that you two really love each other. Two different worlds or not, you can find a way. Don’t make my mistakes.”

“I won’t. We won’t.”

“Good,” John nodded. “Second, I know you love your kids, and that you’re worried about Gary. You see that he’s going to be amazing, but he doesn’t know that, so tell him. Tell him everyday that he is incredible. Tell all your boys that, but make sure Gary knows it. Someone needs to.”

“I will,” Jeff smiled as he pulled out a set of keys and unlocked the door. “Thank you for everything. Goodbye, John.”

As soon as he pushed the door open, John could see a little boy with glasses sitting on the carpet at the end of the hall. He lifted his head from a book to see who it was. Then his face split into a grin and he ran over to attach himself to Jeff’s legs. “DADDY!”

“Gary!” Jeff dropped down so he could hug his son properly. “Hey, kiddo, I missed you so much!”

“Aunt Stacy didn’t say when you were coming back,” little Gary mumbled into Jeff’s neck. “Where were you?”

“I was with some friends. This is one of them. You’re going to meet another one tomorrow.”

“Cool!” Gary grinned up at John, revealing a missing tooth. “Nice to meet you.”

John couldn’t help but smile back. “You too.”

“Hey, where are your brothers and aunt?” Jeff asked, standing up now. “Are they already asleep?”

“Levi is. Aunt Stacy’s with JJ in the backyard. He climbed the tree and he isn’t wearing pants.”

“Well, we better go deal with that then,” Jeff chuckled. “How about you tell me about that book you were reading?”

John watched them go inside and close the door before heading back to the car.

~~~

“The timeline is back to the way it’s supposed to be,” Sara said once they were back in present day. “No massacre was ever reported in that town.”

“I was hoping serial killer when this first came up, but I’m glad it’s been fixed,” Ava murmured. “Gary’s still at the Bureau, so that’s good.”

“Oh yeah,” Sara’s eyes glinted with mischief. “I made a lie about something being broken and might have told John to check on Gary himself.”

“I suggested it,” Gideon reminded her.

Ava raised an eyebrow. “You’re playing matchmaker with them?”

Sara shrugged. “Maybe a little…”

~~~

John knocked for the third time on Gary’s apartment door. “Oh come on, squire. You better be in there.”

Just then, the door swung open, revealing Gary. “John? What are you doing here? Is something wrong?”

“You know me,” John sighed in relief as he came into the apartment. “You still work at the Bureau, right?”

“Yeah, I do, you know that. I took the day off today, I had to pick up my dad at the airport, although he did have a surprise there.”

John froze. “What kind of surprise?”

“Gary? Who are you talking to?”

“Who’s there?”

John remembered those voices. It had been hours for him, but decades for them. Lifting his head, he could see Puck and Jeff coming around the corner from where Gary’s kitchen was. Jeff’s hair had gone gray and there were more wrinkles now, but he had aged gracefully. Puck looked older too, which should have been impossible for fairies, but his aging looked slower compared to Jeff’s. John couldn’t help but smile when he saw their joined hands.

“Hey,” Gary looked back to his father and Puck, then John. “Uh, John, this is my dad. And that’s Puck. He’s my dad’s boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” John raised an eyebrow.

“We were together for a long time, but then we had a bit of a break,” Jeff explained. “Puck helped me raise Gary and his brothers.”

“But now we’re trying things together again,” Puck finished, smiling lovingly at Jeff. “So, Gary, who is this?”

John glanced quickly at Gary, who cleared his throat. “This is John Constantine. He’s a friend from work.”

Jeff tilted his head. “Do I know you?”

“Just got one of those faces,” John lied.

“I don’t think you’d know him,” Gary told his father. “John’s kinda into the occult.”

Jeff grinned. “Hey, I was in a cult once!”

“Occult, and he doesn’t need to hear that story!” Gary panicked, waving his hands back and forth.

“Hey, Gary, can you give me a hand in the kitchen?” Puck interrupted. “I need to get the rest of the sauce together so it can simmer.”

“Sure, Puck.”

John watched them leave before turning back to Jeff. The older man had a knowing smile on his face.

“It’s been a while, John Constantine. So, are you a petty dabbler or master of the dark arts today?”

“You…” he faltered. “You remember me?”

“Hard to forget an introduction like that after nearly getting mauled by a hellhound,” Jeff laughed. “You and everyone on that ship did so much for me and Puck back then. Not only did you stop a hellhound, but you told us it was possible to be together.”

John glanced towards the kitchen where Gary and Puck were. “Thought you two said you had a break.”

“We did, but it didn’t mean Puck wasn’t part of the family. Besides, we’re giving things a second chance and it’s been amazing.”

“Well, that’s good to hear.”

“Puck told me everything you told him all that time long ago,” Jeff continued. “Including how you let someone go because of your darkness. And then there was the advice you gave me about Gary. Since you told me you were a time traveler, I wondered if you knew him. But Gary was the one you let go, wasn’t he?”

John exhaled heavily. “He was.”

“Do you still really care about my son, John Constantine?” Jeff asked, his eyes steely behind the glasses he now wore.

The question hung in the air before John nodded. “I do.”

“Good,” Jeff smiled. “Because he still likes you too. If you want something with him…well, I think you remember the advice you gave to me.”

John snorted softly. “Time will tell if it works again.”

“So, do it, then wait and see. That’s what Puck and I had to do.”

“Jeff, where did you-” Puck started to shout. “Never mind. Can you give me a hand?”

“I’ll be there in a moment,” Jeff called back, then looked to John. “Good luck. And if you ever break his heart again, Puck will come after you. You’ll get to see the kind of revenge he can dish out then.”

“Not meddling with a fairy,” John promised. “Speaking of which, do Gary and his brothers know about Puck? What he really is?”

“They do, but the secret is safe within the family and it will stay with family.”

Gary came back around the corner. “Hey, Dad, JJ’s calling. Levi’s with him.”

“I’ll get it,” Jeff told his son. “You talk with John for now.”

“Sure,” Gary grinned until his father left the room, then looked back to John. “Hey, he didn’t tell you the cult story, did he?”

John laughed. “Nope. No cult story, but now I’m curious.”

Gary reddened and scratched the back of his neck. “I can…tell you tonight? Puck’s suggesting that I invite you over for dinner tonight. It’ll be them and my brothers here. It’s okay to say no though. My family can be a lot and-”

“No,” John shook his head. “I’d like to stay.”

Gary seemed surprised. “Wha- really?”

“Yeah,” he smiled. “There’s something I want to talk to you about, if you’ll hear me out.”

Gary beamed back at him. “Sure.”

#legends of tomorrow #somebodyhelpthenotdeadfreds #happy birthday #constangreen #john constantine #gary green #team legends #green family #constangreen server #fanfiction

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otterandterrierwrites · 5 years

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{Hungry hearts} X. Sahbiye

A/N: Happy May the Fourth and Scoundress Saturday, and welcome new followers! Like I mentioned in the snippet I posted last week, this story it’s set right before the start of the Annual #3 comic. I’m not crazy about how it turned out, but I’ve been wanting to use this dish from “Honour among thieves” almost since the beginning for reasons, and sadly, it also turned into a bit of an homage to Peter Mayhew and our beloved Chewie. We’re getting closer to ESB so things are turning undefinably weird between Han and Leia!

‘So this,’ Leia said, opening her arms to encompass the desolate landscape before them, ‘is your brilliant secret lair?’

‘It’s not “my lair”?’ Han grunted, coming down from the Millennium Falcon’s ramp behind her. ‘Welcome to Odona, Princess.’

Leia threw him a wary look before stepping down into the dusty land and examining their surroundings. Here and there, crumbling stone structures rose from the ground, looking even older than the Massassi temples on Yavin IV. Massive pillars and half-standing statues guarded the dark mouths of the caves Han had pointed out as one of the key features that made Odona the ideal planet for a new military base.

It hadn't been easy to relocate after Yavin. Dantooine had been the Alliance’s first headquarters, and they had lasted a whole two years there. On Yavin IV, it had been a year and a couple of months. Afterwards, they had split and moved between their other, smaller bases, but this arrangement kept their forces too scattered across the galaxy to launch any major attacks. Leia had hoped that destroying the Death Star had been an opening, a victory important enough to let them strike at a weakened Empire until it fell---but while they’d had a few more wins, they seemed to never make much of a dent. She hoped that would change if they could find a base large and isolated enough to safely concentrate a large number of troops.

Han had mentioned that one of Odona’s polar continents was an abandoned rock with a maze of caves favored by pirates and smugglers to escape Imperial detection, and that it was big enough to establish a new base. The only problem, he’d said, was its extreme weather.

Leia and the rest of High Command had decided it was worth checking out, and that it would be more practical if it was just a small team going in and out quietly. If it was risky, it would be easier to get out. The idea had been to have a commander accompany Han and Chewbacca to Odona. Han had insisted he wouldn’t take any other rebels on his ship but Luke or Leia---and Luke had been away on a different recon mission. When she walked into the Falcon, Leia passed Chewie on his way out. For some reason, the Wookiee was not going with them.

‘The weather is nice,’ Leia commented. The pale blue sky was mostly clear but for wispy clouds, and the morning breeze was pleasant. Nothing seemed to hint at a treacherous climate.

‘Yeah, for now,’ Han warned. ‘You got layers?’

Leia assented; he had insisted on the vitality of wearing layered clothes and carrying warm coats besides.

‘Let's go,’ Han said, and closed down the Falcon before they set out towards the nearest cave, rucksacks on their backs.

They did the trek in silence. Things had been strained lately, more so than usual. Generally, she and Han had a disagreement that became a loud blowout, they spent a few days avoiding each other, then she’d go and ask him to run a mission or he’d invite her and Luke to his ship after dinner and things would go back to normal. For some time, they hadn’t even fought, only bickered, which often turned into friendly banter. Han made her laugh---genuinely laugh---and, surprisingly, he could keep his mouth shut when she just wanted to share a drink with someone and not talk about anything---although they often ended up talking anyway. He was also one of the best partners she’d ever had in the field.

Something had shifted recently, though, and she couldn’t put her finger on what or when it had happened. It was closer to the way they were in the beginning, except back then, she hadn’t cared much whether he stayed or left for good. Now, there was a tension between them while they fought, as if there was something fragile on the line, ready to come crashing down at the slightest wrong maneuver.

The last time they fought, Leia was so angry afterwards. They had been cooking together, talking---she was sure he’d even shared something very private with her---and suddenly he was getting up in her space, acting like he was trying to pick someone up in a bar. When she had pulled back from whatever the hell he had in mind, he’d walked away from her and left her with half a dozen star fritters to finish and a kitchen to clean.

‘Are you sure these structures won’t fall down over our heads the minute we step in?’ she asked as they stood on the threshold of the cave, dark and jagged like the maw of a waiting beast.

‘If they ain’t fallen down in a snow storm, they won’t fall down now,’ Han said, surveying the antechamber-like space that narrowed down into a tunnel. He took his blaster from its holder and turned on his flashlight, then motioned for her to follow. ‘C’mon, get yours.’

Alarmed, Leia drew her blaster and asked, ‘Already?’

‘Just in case we need to clear this out.’

‘I was under the impression there were no living beings in this continent.’

‘Well, you know what happens when you assume things,’ Han said in a tone too flippant to be genuine. Without waiting for her, he crossed the chamber and stepped into the tunnel.

Leia hurried to follow, annoyed.

‘So just to be clear, what kind of beings can we expect to run into?’

‘Hopefully none.’

‘Will you cut out the crap?’ she snapped with an angry huff, tugging at the collar of her shirt. It was no wonder she’d started to feel hot: besides the flush her irritation at Han induced, she was wearing a jacket, a long-sleeved shirt and a tank top underneath.

Han stopped and turned to give her a tired look.

‘Look, Princess, we can stand here fightin’ about what hypothetical creatures might live here or we can get on with the recon and worry about them when we have to. If we have to,’ he added.

‘You should know by now that the way we operate is, we lay down all the intel we have on a planet before we get there,’ Leia retorted, glaring at him.

‘I don't have any intel!’ Han raised his arms in exasperation. ‘It's just stupid rumours!’

He glared back, his jaw tight, and then he breathed out forcefully.

‘It’s been years since anyone’s seen them---no one I talked to was sure they even exist. If you gotta know, some folks talk about big blobs covered in eyes and teeth lurkin’ in these caves. Never met ‘em myself. See why I didn't think to mention ‘em? They're probably a myth, no more’n that.’

It was hard to decide whether she was relieved by Han’s assessment that the creatures were likely to be a fantasy, or worried by their description in case they were real, but at least he was being honest.

‘Let’s move,’ she said, with a nod, and began to walk.

The deeper they went into the cave, the hotter it felt. If Leia didn’t know better, she would have believed they were walking straight into the planet’s core.

‘Are there… thermal pools nearby or something?’ she asked, taking off her jacket. Han did the same.

‘No, this ball’s just starting to heat up.’

Less than twenty minutes later, the cave felt like a furnace.

‘Kriff,’ Han said, wiping off his sweaty brow with the back of his wrist. He stopped and took off his vest, then pulled his shirt over his head and stuffed both of them inside his rucksack. ‘You’ll wanna lose some layers.’

Silently, Leia thanked the heat for justifying her blush. After stripping off, Han was left wearing a plain white vest that clung to his skin in all the right places. She’d seen him wearing less, but that didn’t mean she underrated the image in front of her. And just like she was watching him, wouldn’t he watch her if she took off her shirt? Leia wasn’t vain, but she wasn’t oblivious to her features, either.

‘I’m fine,’ she said, and kept moving forward, pointing her flashlight at crevices she feigned interest in.

It was far from fine. Her clothes stuck to her armpits, her back and belly, and she felt as if even her hair was starting to sweat. They were rationing their water: she couldn’t afford to dehydrate just for the sake of her… modesty or whatever ridiculous nonsense was keeping her fully clothed.

Slowing down discreetly to fall behind Han, she dumped her rucksack to the ground and stripped off her shirt, tying it around her waist. It was inevitable that Han turned to check on her when he noticed she was lagging behind, but Leia looked straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge his expression.

The cave seemed all right... at first. Her instruments didn't register radiation or poisoning elements. If Han was right about them being frequently beaten up by storms, then he also had to be right in thinking they were solid enough to not crumble down on them. It seemed that the weather (or perhaps something else) did take its toll on them, however: here are there they began to find sections where the roof had caved in and huge rocks blocked the passages, forcing them to take a different route.

Leia was growing concerned. The cave was more labyrinthine than either of them had prepared for. Han kept insisting that he would not get them lost, and she wanted to believe him, but they’d had to stray off the main tunnel and had taken so many twists and turns, she couldn’t be sure she’d know which way they had come. She’d taken out her handheld navcomp, but it was having trouble reading the complex terrain. On top of it, the heat was almost suffocating. It was getting on both their nerves.

‘It gotta be that way,’ Han said.

‘Why? Because that rock seems more promising than this one?’ Leia snapped as they stood at a crossroads.

‘Because we don’t know which one to take so we might as well go that way and see!’

‘So if I say let’s take this tunnel instead, you’ll follow?’ she asked, raising her eyebrows.

‘No, ‘cos you’re just bein’ difficult.’

‘Oh, really? I’m being difficult just for suggesting a different route than the one you pulled out of your ass? How manly of you.’

‘I'm just sayin’ that's not what you want!’ he said, refuting her accusation with a raised finger.

‘What do you know about what I really want, Han?’ she spat out. She knew she was blowing things out of proportion, but she was tired of the encompassing darkness of the cave, of its confusing bowels, of the perspiration that covered her head to toes, and she was tired of letting Han lead this dance around each other.

‘Guess I don’t have a kriffin’ clue!’ Han groaned in frustration and turned around. The tired sigh that followed seemed to discharge him of his anger, and when he spoke, it was in a measured tone. ‘Alright, why don’t we stop for a bit? Let’s take a breather and have a bite, and then we’ll discuss which way to go.’

She resented that his alternative to taking her route was basically to let her cool off so that they could go the way he wanted. She wanted to keep yelling at him even if she wasn't very clear on what exactly to yell at him about. The diplomat in her reasoned that she couldn't know that was his plan, and that he was proposing a truce, so she should meet him halfway.

Taking a deep breath, she slid her rucksack off her shoulders and sat down without a word.

‘You said you’d pack lunch for both of us,’ she said dryly. ‘I hope you remembered, or else---Force help you.’

Han snorted. ‘Some faith you have in me, Your Worshipfulness.’

He sat down on the ground next to her, their bare arms brushing. Leia bit down on her lower lip to keep a shiver at bay while Han took out a portable cooler out of his bag, and retrieved a smaller container.

‘Sahbiye,’ he told her, pointing at a mix of soft green leaves and meat bathed in a golden sauce. ‘Chewie made it. Haven’t been cookin’ much myself ‘cos the thermpad’s been actin’ up more’n usual and it drives me crazy, but he said he’d make this for us---uh, well, actually for you.’

‘For me?’

‘You hadn’t tried his sahbiye yet, he said. He doesn’t make it very often. He must like you, Princess.’

‘That’s very kind of him,’ Leia said, taking the fork he offered her. She speared a piece of meat and scooped up some greens, and took a bite. The flavours were rich and comforting, making her tension ease up a little.

‘That’s Chewie. Can’t shake ‘im off once he’s decided to look after you,’ Han told her. ‘Even though you weren’t very kind to him, in the beginning,’ he added.

Leia frowned in confusion. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘You called him a walking carpet. When we were tryin’ to get outta the Death Star.’ Han looked at her. ‘You don’t remember?’

She shook her head, then raised an eyebrow at him. ‘I was a bit too preoccupied with other things at the time as to remember everything I said to anyone.’ Leia looked away for a moment. ‘It wasn’t anything personal. I didn’t expect to get out of there alive, and when the possibility seemed real, I wanted to get back to the Rebellion at any cost, because maybe---maybe I could help them when I---’

When I couldn’t help Alderaan, she thought, but she couldn’t say it out loud. She looked at him again. ‘So I’m sorry if I was a bit---’

‘Pain in the ass?’ Han asked through a mouthful of sahbiye.

She made a face that meant “don’t push it”, but nodded. They’d never talked about it, about what had happened in the Death Star (except for Ben Kenobi’s mysterious, sudden death) and about those less than ideal first impressions. The day had seemed a blur to her afterwards, an overwhelming, deafening whirlwind of experiences, most of which she wanted to forget.

‘Even if I don’t remember what I said, I am sorry to have treated him badly. There’s no excuse,’ she said.

Han shook his head. ‘Not me you have to apologise to. Chewie’s probably forgotten, anyway.’

‘Maybe, but I hope he knows how much I appreciate him. He’s a good fighter… and a better friend.’

‘And a great cook,’ Han added.

‘I wholeheartedly agree.’

A chilly breeze swept through the cave, and she put her fork down to rub her arms. ‘Is it cooling down or am I imagining it?’

‘Weather's turnin’ fast. That's how it is around here.’ Han put on his shirt again and set his jacket and parka out next to him in preparation.

Leia looked at him in disbelief, but she too re-dressed herself as the gust of cool wind on her damp skin had given her goosebumps.

‘We should get outta here in case there’s a snowstorm,’ Han suggested, standing up and packing their things.

The crossroads still lay before them, two different paths to choose from, each with their own undiscovered possibilities.

‘So, which way?’ Leia asked, turning to look up at Han.

‘Back the way we came,’ Han said gruffly. ‘Can’t be worse than anything else.’

#scoundressaturdays #hanleia #han x leia #han solo #leia organa #han and leia #star wars fanfiction #verse: hungry hearts #rated g #period: pre esb #one-shot #2019

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themoonandotherslikeit · 5 years

Text

The Look in Her Eyes- Chapter 6

***White on a case, Dean and Sam meet a beautiful woman, Ava. She makes a large impression on the brothers, and ends up convincing them to take her on the road with them. It isn’t long before the shared experience, car rides, motel rooms, and risky cases pushes Ava and Dean together in an unlikely story of love, family, fate, and friendship. ***

Chapter Six, Stitches

Ava

I felt Deans lips part against mine. It felt good to kiss him. Natural. But that wasn't why we were here. I heard a step behind me, and I pulled away from the kiss. I turned and raised my gun from under my skirt. "Back off, or I'll shoot."

Dean reaches for his knife right as the vampires fangs extended. "It won't do you much good." It hissed.

"Maybe, but it'll slow you down." I said, pulling the trigger. I took out it's right kneecap causing it to fall to the ground.

Sam was behind it, with his machete against its neck. Dean and I rose to our feet. My gun was still pointed at the creature.

"Where's the nest? What are you doing with the women you're taking?"

"You may as well kill me." It spat. "I'll never sell out my family."

"Your wish is my command." Sam said, hacking off its head.

I wiped splattered blood off my cheek and turned away from the vampires wide, empty eyes and turned to Dean. He took his thumb and wiped another droplet of blood off my chin. "You did good." He commented. I wasn't sure if he was talking about the case or the kiss. Either way I was happy.

Sam bent down and felt though the vampires pockets. "Jackpot." He mumbled pulling out the vamps phone. "It has a GPS. I may be able to find the nest by his frequent locations."

"Nerd." Dean said with a grin.

"You know, Sam, in another life you could've been helpful at the station."

"Well, if this career doesn't work out I'll hit you up."

"Can we go back to the motel so I can wash the vampire blood off of me?"

"Yeah." Dean said. "Let's regroup."

We walked into the hotel. "I'm going to shower." I said, avoiding the Winchester's eyes. I shut the door behind me and let out a breath. I stared at myself in the mirror. I was splattered with blood. I closed my eyes. The demons face flashing. His face splattered with my blood. I turned on the shower and slid out of my dress. I had to burn it away. Wash it all away.

I stepped into the hot water, and I fell apart. I held onto the soup holder to keep myself from falling over. "It hurts." I cried out. I wrapped an arm around myself, my fingers grazing my stitches.

I could feel him cutting me. I didn't pass out, not once.

"Ava." Dean was knocking at the bathroom door. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yes." I choked out before crying harder. Shit.

"I'm coming in." He announced, opening the door. I heard it click behind him. "Hey, talk to me."

I slid the shower door open just enough for him to see my face. "Can you take these stitches out? Please?"

"Do they hurt? Are you hurt?" His face was wilting with concern.

"I just... I need them out." Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I couldn't stop them.

"I'll do it." He said, grabbing my towel. I opened the shower door completely and fell into his arms. He wrapped the towel around me. His gaze didn't leave my face the entire time. "Hey Sammy." He called. "Can you give us a minute?"

"Uh, yeah. I'll go get a coffee and work on the phone. I'll be back in an hour."

When the door the motel room closed, Dean scooped me up and carried me into the room. He laid me down on my bed and he took out his pocket knife. "This shouldn't hurt." He rubbed my thigh gently. "But please tell me if it does."

I nodded. I didn't realize I was gripping his shirt, but I couldn't pull my hand away.

He cut the first stitch and gently tugged until it came loose. "Was that okay?"

"Yeah." I exhaled. A little bit of weighted lifted off me with every stitch. "I'm sorry. It wasn't the vampire."

"What was it then?"

"The blood on my face." I admitted. I remembered what Sam said about me being able to trust Dean. After our fake kiss I wanted to believe it.

He stopped for a second and looked at me. "The demon, right? We haven't talked about it yet. Not really."

"You being here is enough."

"So, that was some performance." He said, taking my lead and changing the subject.

"I got an A in drama class." I lied.

"I can see that."

Dean got the stitches on my lower legs and arms. He stood up and grabbed a pair of underwear out of my bag. "I need to do what's under the towel." He said avoiding my eyes. He looked up at me sheepishly.

"Okay." I said, taking the underwear and while he looked away I slid into them, and I snapped on a bra. I sat back down in my black lace underwear. "Nice choice." I said bashfully.

"It isn't like that." He said quietly.

"Your performance was good, too." I looked at him as his fingers rested on the inside of my thigh, cutting away at the stitches.

"You have an easy lead to follow."

His fingers felt warm against my skin. "It was nice for a second. To forget about all the bad stuff. This morning in the water, it almost all felt normal."

"It did."

"You've been quiet ever since you and Sam agreed to bring me." I said reaching out for him so he would look at me.

"When I look at you..."

"You what?"

"I see what that motherfucker did to you. I see you laying there naked and bleeding. Asking me for help, and I'm chained to the goddamn wall watching another good person get torn apart."

I scooted toward him and took the knife from his hand sitting it down. I met his eyes. "I see it too, but not like that. Before you show up when he was..." I looked away.

"Hey." He said tilting my chin towards him. "I'm sorry to make this about me. You can tell me anything."

I swallowed hard. Looking at him I knew he was telling me the truth. "I don't have relationships, Dean. When I was younger..." I sighed.

"You don't have to tell me unless you want to, Ava."

"I do." I bit my lip. "I want to." I touched his cheek. "When I was 18, right before I joined the force I got jumped in an alley. I was raped. It put me in the hospital for a month. He almost killed me."

"That son of a bitch."

"It isn't the fact that it's a demon, Dean. That doesn't have anything to do with it. It's that it happened again." I closed my eyes, unable to stop a tear from rolling down my cheek.

He caught the tear with his thumb. "I'm sorry that happened to you."

I opened my eyes and his face was closer to mine. "I haven't let anyone close to me since. I can't take the risk."

I heard his breath hitch in his throat. "But you're sitting here with me... like this."

"I know." I said quietly. "I trust you. I have since I met you. I know you'd never hurt me. You may annoy me." I smiled a little. "But I know you'll always protect me."

"Damn straight I will." He leaned into my hand, and placed his hand over mine on his cheek. "Let's get all of these stitches out. Lay back."

I followed his instruction and closed my eyes.

"I'm going to touch your leg." He said quietly, as he placed his fingers on the inside of my thigh again. He started snipping away, his fingers leaving little bits of electricity in my skin.

"Dean." I exhaled his name.

"Yeah?" He asked, his hand on my stomach, finishing up the stitches.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." He pulled the last stitch away and leaned in, pressing a warm kiss to the pink scar on my abdomen. "Get dressed." He said standing.

I opened my eyes, chills running down my spine. I stood up and slid into a pair of jeans and a long sleeved shirt.

"Sam will be back any minute." Dean said, as he put his knife back in his pocket. "I need some air." He exhaled pushing out of the motel into the night.

Dean

I needed a cold shower, but the night air would have to do. I walked away from the door to our room and unlocked the Impala, pulling my emergency whiskey out from under the seat.

"How's she doing?" Sam asked as he walked up to the car.

"Not good, Sammy. I think we need to leave her out of this one."

"The vamp scare her?"

I shook my head. "No, actually."

"She's like no other girl I've ever met."

"What? You've got a thing for her?"

"Don't you?" Sam laughed. "I saw that kiss, Dean. That seemed for real."

"We were just acting."

"Keep telling yourself that."

"No matter what it was to me, she told me herself that it was nothing. It's not my place to hope that it's something it's not." I took a swig from the bottle. "Where do I get off thinking someone like her would consider me anyway?"

"Why wouldn't she?"

"Me? With my GED and give em hell attitude? I'm not really someone a girl like her wants to bring home to Dad. Or er... Bobby. Damn I'm going to hell just for thinking about her. I should go to Bobby now, so he can put me out of my own misery."

"Dean." Sam laughed reaching for the bottle. I handed it to him and he took a swig. "I think if you acted happy she was around she may actually like your company, but she thinks you don't even like her."

"Fuck. Of course I like her. What am I? A monster?" Debatable.

"Maybe you should, I don't know, show it?"

I shrugged him off and took back the bottle. "Mind your own, Sam."

Sam smiled at me with a shrug. "I'm just sayin."

"Yeah well keep it to yourself." I took another swig and put the bottle back. I picked up a hair tie that was under the seat and I smiled to myself. Ava. I picked it up and slid it onto my wrist. "Lets go back and make a plan." I said locking the door. "They're probably out on the prowl. We need to find the nest so we can attack in the morning."

We made our way back to the room. "Ave." I said as we opened the door. "We need to talk about the nest."

I looked around the room with a frown. She was nowhere to be found. Even the bathroom was empty.

"Dean." Sam said, kneeling by her bed. He stood up and showed me wet blood on his fingers.

—————-

Chapter Seven, Darkness

Get caught up!

#the look in her eyes #fanfiction #deanxoc #ava langston #sam winchester #OC #mine #writing #supernatural #spn #angst

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tarithenurse · 5 years

Text

Space Nurse 5/?

Fandom(s): Men in Black & MCU! Pairing: (Wait and see) x fem!reader Contents: Probably some cussing and slight bit of angsting. A/N: switching from 1st person PoV in the diary, we now get to enjoy some 2nd pers PoV “live action”! Leave me an ask or reblog to be added to the tag list...even if my writing will be slowing down considerably now that I have to prep for last internship’s exam.

From Nightingale to Sci-Fi

You’re unable to finish the breakfast due to the nauseating anticipation of what’s to come. Good thing you’ll be tending humans the first while, at least their physiology isn’t new to you. Nooo, only all the things they can suffer from in their line of work! You’re far from rested after having spent the entire night studying alien parasites and whatnot. It explains the frequent physicals they need to go through.

Abandoning your futile attempts at finishing the yoghurt with muesli, you stash the tray in the rack and turn around to head off only to nearly slam into the solid shape dressed in a black suit with matching tie which seems to soften and lighten his skin. Looking up into the smiling face of agent Jay, you gravity that tries to pull you stumbling backwards, minimizing the movement to a soft sway.

“Easy there, newbie,” Jay grins as he slips an arm around your waist to steady you, “didn’t mean to scare ya’.”

Slinking out of his steady hold (and tearing your gaze away from his endless eyes), it’s easy enough to deny his claim and if he doesn’t believe you…well at least he doesn’t say it.

“Spend most mornings trying to sneak up on…newbies?” The words fall testily over your lips.

When Jay smirks it makes his feathery moustache tremble. “Nah, only the one’s I’ve been told to assess.”

The two of you’ve started walking and you vaguely recognize the path that leads to the locker room. He’s a relatively tall man, at least compared to yourself and you’re not exactly the tiniest person. Even so, there’s nothing unsettling about walking next to him because nothing about his person carries the air of the other cold and anonymous agents you’ve encountered so far.

“There’ll be one from either bureau evaluatin’ ya work and skills every day. I’ve been tasked to represent Men in Black. Doctor Cho was supposed to be the delegation from Shield and –“

“Wait.” Pausing briefly to look at the friendly face to make sure you didn’t mishear. “There’re two fractions at play?”

By the time Jay finishes explaining about Strategic Homeland-something-or-other and Men in Black, your mind’s fuzzy with semi-political history. Your new acquaintance isn’t clear on who knew about the extra-terrestrials first, but it’s apparent that MiB have specialized on the field and it was a director of SHIELD, a guy called Fury, that arranged for a meeting to build a cooperation. One day, rumour goes, he was sitting in the office of “Alpha”, the chief of Jay’s organisation.

“So…I’m not actually part of neither Men in Black or SHIELD?” Pulling out a set of scrubs from an automated dispenser, you continue into the locker room.

Maybe he doesn’t notice, or he doesn’t care, because he follows dutifully. “Nah, durin’ the trial period y’are in neutral territory. Once assessed, we decide which agency ya’ll fit with, ya know…skills, temper, shit like tha’.”

“Don’t I have a say in it?” you ask, brows raised although he can’t see it because you’ve got the back to him and your head halfway into your locker.

Kicking off shoes, there’s no sign the man will leave, and you decide to change while he keeps talking.

“Ya want a say in – oh okay, we’re doin’ that!” You hear him shuffle about and a glance verifies that he’s turned away. “It’s not that I mind, ya see. Nothin’ wrong with…with…ahm…” The shadows of flailing hands doesn’t provide him with the needed vocabulary. “Aaaanyways! So…erm…well if ya got any preferences, we’ll be happy to hear ‘em.”

The scrubs from the hospital back home used to be white, maybe with navy leggings depending on the model, so it looks odd to you with the pastel yellow. I’m like an Easter chicken! Baggy pants and unshapely t-shirt, at least both have huge pockets for pens, notebooks with charts and vitals, and much more that you’ve come to learn is handy to have nearby during a shift. Pushing the locker-door shut with a dull clang, you straighten up and breathes in deeply in the hope that it’ll steady the nerves once and for all.

“Let’s do this.”

…

With doctor Helen Cho gone one of the people responsible for your introduction (though apparently only for a little while) is a young SHIELD-scientist although her expertise lies in biochemistry, making her less of an obvious choice to work in the infirmary in much the same way Helen’s focus on genetics does. But doctor Simmons in kind and brilliant, and she willingly explains that most of the doctors at this facility aren’t “ordinary” doctors due to the special needs any disease or injury related to extra-terrestrials require. As such, it’s up to you and the handful of other nurses to cover the gap between the professions.

No pressure. Sure, you’ve done your fair share of stiches and cleaning wounds...but you’re no surgeon, of course, and as your mind lists all the manners your expertise can be insufficient you feel your heart fall. Even though you’d been surprised to be offered this job (and since then shocked to find out what it entails), you don’t want to be deemed unworthy. Damnit, you bicker at yourself, if I gotta leave it’ll be me walking out as a protest.

…

You don’t leave that day. Instead, the time is spend doing regular checkups and collecting blood and urine samples from the many (human) employees that have been called in in advance. Some of the equipment might be fancier than at your old job, but the procedures are perfectly familiar, putting you at each and freeing your mind to make small talk with the military personnel which apparently are being checked these days.

A few of the faces are recognizable from the hallways or the cafeteria, there’s even a set of twins (whom you’ve assumed was actually just one very busy guy) that recognizes you from the gym. Red hair and brown eyes equally aflame with joy barely able to mask a glimmer of mischief when they each in turn offer you to join them for training or company at meal time. After seeing the second out, you take the liberty of noting down their names just in case you take them up on their offer.

And so, the day passes surprisingly quickly with you in one room together with the “patients” and agent Jay and doctor Simmons, the two people who has a power over your future, in the lab except when they decide to check up on you or stop by to give you a message. No one joins you for lunch, and by the time the day ends, you’re thankful that neither of the two leaves with you even if it means walking the halls alone.

…

You’ve had an hours rest before needing to be ready for the daily torture at the hands of the trio in charge of your training. Dragging your sorry ass and buzzing mind to the gym, getting insulted and yelled at is the last thing you feel like because even if the day technically speaking has been simple, getting used to a new work place is taking its toll mentally.

Dropping the little towel and water bottle in the treadmill’s holders, you know the first part of the training session you’ll be left mostly alone as long as you don’t run too slow. A few beeps with the buttons starts the preprogrammed, torturous, cardio workout.

15 minutes in, and your lungs are burning as though someone’s filled them with acid, forcing your body to work on anaerobic metabolism and sheer stubbornness. Breathe in while left-right-left, breathe out while right-left-right. On and on, the mantra drones while the empty gaze stays fixed on the barren wall at the other side of the room. Just a…bit more. You know you’re lying to yourself, but it’s easier to handle one more minute at a time than all 15 at once.

By the time the machine slows to a halt, some unknown deity must have taken pity on you to prevent your legs from giving out under you. Wiping the sweat away with the little towel (and stifling a groan of discouragement), the only goal is to drag out the time before one of the three buddies turns their attention to you.

“Hey, [Y/N]. Right?”

The cheery voice right behind you makes you snap around so fast you nearly trip yourself, and four hands shoot out to steady you. What was their names again?

“Woops,” the other twin smiles (or maybe it’s the same that spoke before), “didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Heh. Nono, you didn’t,” you lie with a half-hearted smile, “I was just erm…mentally far away.”

The one you think might be Sean looks solemnly around the boring gym. The place is styled á la minimalist institution with once-white concrete walls and linoleum in some uncanny greenish hue that looks more like mold than anything you ought to have indoors.

“Next time…please bring me along.” The sigh would seem honest if it wasn’t for the twinkle in the brown eyes.

“Oï!” Of course, his brother (possibly named Ian, depending on who’s who) isn’t about to miss out on anything as he elbows his way closer, sending maybe-Sean slightly off balance. “Anything particular in mind? Otherwise I’ll show you the good places around here, just say the word!”

Their enthusiasm and smiles are contagious, rekindling a happiness that has otherwise been dampened since you left home. You’re just about to answer, accepting the offer in the need of having some sort of friends in this foreign place, when Costa sidles over with a brow arched in disapproval. Clad in shorts and a sports bra, showing almost all of her toned body, you’re reminded of the inferior status thrust upon you – and for obvious reasons when it comes to physical prowess. If it was only that, at least. But no. Of course, this warrior-lady somehow manages to look gorgeous and be smart too, and a pang of mixed emotions in your chest prompts you to look away.

“What’ve we got here?” The slightly nasal Caribbean dialect is honeyed. Too honeyed. “The havoc-twins are trying to sabotage my recruit?”

“Ma’am, no, ma’am.” Both guys’ drain in the split second it takes before they answer in unison.

Smoldering eyes turn frosty, freezing the guys and you to the spot. “Good. I won’t tolerate anything but perfection, and if you mess with my work, I’ll make you regret it. We clear?!”

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am!” You bite your tongue not to answer with Sean and Ian.

“You can have her when I’m done.” Costa’s words sends a new wave of heat to your cheeks for no reason you should be thinking of. “Now move.”

Watching the twins scurry off, you wait silently for the punishing rant that must be brewing for you.

Nothing.

No harsh words or degrading comments slip Costa’s lips while she instructs you on the use of some equipment meant to exercise arms and chest. Oh no, her punishment is way more refined, much crueler. From one machine to the next, she pushes you beyond the limits you thought you had in a gruelling manner where raw strength and endurance are brought to the test until you literally pass out, losing your grip on an elastic cord as you slump unto the floor. Weather it’s the sharp whip against your face from the equipment or the impact with the linoleum that wakes you, well that’s impossible to tell. Either way, it’s the burning humiliation that hurts the most as you try to focus on the face of your tormentor.

#Space Nurse #MiB #MCU #Men in Black #marvel cinematic universe #I'm waaaaaaaay too amused #writing #fanfiction #agent J #jemma simmons #SHIELD #Aliens?#extra-terrestrial #Crossover because why the fuck not #mib/mcu

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shield-agent78 · 5 years

Text

Linguistics Chapter 5: One Battle Two Missions

Paring: Bucky X OC (Ema)

Warnings: Fluff, language, PTSD, some jealousy, mentions of sex

A/N: Please tag and re-blog so I can share my work with others. I appreciate any comments. This is also posted on Wattpad Thanks!

Bucky and I had planned to go out two days later, but the world had other ideas. An H.Y.D.R.A. base had been discovered in Siberia. Since, Bucky and Steve knew this area well and had to leave quickly to get the jump on the agents. I was scared for Bucky. I knew this had been an old home for the Winter Soldiers and I didn’t want the mission to trigger his PTSD. I planned on working in my office on my assignments for the mission until they left. Come on Ema get focus. This is an easy task. The map pulled up on the screen in front of me. I stood there biting my lip and scribbling the messages on my IPad. They need you to focus. He will be fine. He's a Winter Soldier. Plus I had already seen him in his new uniform today. It carved his body perfectly. Oh god, help me. When he gets back you can give him a proper homecoming involving more than, my thoughts trailed off. This wasn't helping. Now I was completely distracted, fidgeting with his dog tags and biting my lip. Ugh, this man is going to drive me crazy.

"So do you always bite your lip and fidget with my dog tags when your thinking?" I head him smugly ask. He was standing at my door watching me intently. His blue eyes darkening with each word he spoke. I immediately stopped. The dog tags slipped out of my fingers and landed back around my neck. I blushed getting caught red-handed thinking about him.

"Well I was just ugh going over this code and ugh," I said trying to backtrack myself but it wasn't working. Bucky left out a chuckle. He took three strides and was right beside me.

"I do love it when you ramble and bite that lip doll." He mumbled as he walked up behind me holding me close to him and kissed me on top of my head. "So anything new?" He motioned with his head toward the map.

"Just more location hits. Looks like 35 miles northwest of the closest town. The language is Romanian and German. It tells about other Winter Soldiers, having been station there, and now for some reason the previous unoccupied base is now being moved back into. "

“That’s what we were afraid they were going to do. I remember the place well. I was kept there for so long it’s hard to forget somewhere like that. However, if they think they will be able to trigger me again they have a hell of a fright coming their way. I spent too many years as that guy and under their control," Bucky said coldly. His tone sent shivers down my spine. I didn’t want him to leave like that.

I needed to do something to snap him out of this. "Hey, look at me." Bucky let go of me and leaded against my desk with his legs slightly apart with his hands holding on the the edge. His golden stripes showing through the nenotech. I placed my iPad down on the desk beside him and stepped between his legs and gently stroked his face with my left hand, "You’re going to be fine. Plus you have two missions," he raised a curious eyebrow at me as I continued. "First, to kick butt over there and the second to get back here to me, because you owe me a date, Sergeant. So get going and then come back to me in one piece." I finished and gave him a smile. I couldn’t let him see me upset. I knew I had to be strong for him.

He looked at me and smirked. "Yes ma'am," he said as he leaned over and gave me a gentle slow kiss on my lips. I wrapped my hands around his neck and barred my head in his neck. He ran his hands up and down my back softly for a moment. I knew he could tell that I was worried about him. "Don’t worry Doll, I’ve done this a time or two."

“Yes I know,” I mumbled into his neck. “Just this time is feels different.”

“Ya for me too.” We stood there for a moment in silence.

“Mr. Barnes they’re ready for you,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. stated breaking the silence.

“That’s my ride. I’ll see you in a couple of days,” James said standing up. We kissed again and he left out the door while leave me with butterflies.

(Day 5) Me: I'm worried about you. Goodnight. Keep safe you.

Bucky: Good morning beautiful. I'm fine. Don't worry about me.

Me: Not in my nature Barnes

(Day 12)

Buck: I miss you me more than you know. When I get back we need to talk.

Me: Miss you too Sergeant. Why am I in trouble? I'm completely innocent.

Buck: I know your not that innocent Doll.

Me: You just made me blush and almost spill my coffee.

Buck: Good

(Day 18) My first day off in almost three weeks and of course where was I? Close to the compound just in case they needed me. However the early fall weather had been calling my name and therefore I decided to do some hiking on the trails near the compound. The leaves were just beginning to change into yellow and red hues. I leaned against a tree to enjoy the silence for a moment when my phone began to ring. " This is Jones." I answered quickly not even bothering to look at the ID. I was hoping to try and sound more authoritative especially since I had just been given level 9 clearance with several agents under my control.

"Is that how you answer your phone now?" He laughed.

"Bucky!"

"Hey Doll. How are you?" I knew he was smirking.

"I'm fine and you must be too since ya smirking at me." I smiled.

"Never."

"Sure, right Sergeant." I laughed.

"I've missed that laugh. Hey Em I don't got long honey just wanted to tell you that I missed you."

"I miss you too baby. Please be safe. It's getting rough at least that's what I hear."

"Yes. I will besides remember I've done this a time or two." Bucky stated in his authoritative tone.

"Ya ya I know. Damn alpha male." I received another chuckle.

"Hey honey I got to go. Steve is needing me."

"Ok. Stay safe Buck."

"I will baby. I promise. Bye."

"Bye."

I hung up the phone and stood I leaning against the tree for a moment longer thinking. It's almost over and he will be home. The last time I had felt like this about anyone was when Chris and I had first been together. Before the lies, and verbal abuse and... I stopped no this isn't about him and James Barnes was not that type of man. He made me laugh and smile. He made me happy and I ugh couldn't imagine my world with out him. Oh, god I think I'm in love with him. I shook the thought from my head. Maybe just maybe I was right but the question was did he feel the same about me.

By the 20th day of the mission, and a 18 hour shift the other operators finally convinced me to get some sleep, especially since the mission was practically over. Upon arriving back to my apartment around 6 pm I ate a small bite and then gave a stick command to F.R.I.D.A.Y. that I was to be immediately woken when Bucky and the rest of the task force returned home. It didn’t take long for me to dive into my soft bed falling sound to sleep.

(Compound-1:45 AM) "It ant that bad Steve" I grumbled as he stood there giving me that Captain America look. "Besides I can patch up myself." He pushed open the doors to the infirmary ushering me inside.

"You were shot Buck. Besides you lost a lot of blood that's why we had to give you some on the jet. Now get your ass in there and get checked out. That's an order." He grown with frustration.

"Fine. But call Ema for me would you. She will be worried." I said checking in with the receptionist while she gave me googling eyes.

"Bucky it's almost 2 AM. She's probably asleep. I have to go to debrief. Tasha's coming up soon as well. Just get checked out," He said as he turned and left headed out to the elevator.

About 45 minutes later I was done. Natasha was waiting outside in the chairs to get herself patched up. "You ok Barnes?" She asked not bothering to open her eye. She was probably still dazed from her hit on the head.

"Yes I’m fine Natilia. I'm goin’ home. Get some rest." I received a grunt in response.

(Ema's Apartment) I woke to the sound of the A.I. system say my name. "Ema, Captain Rodgers, and Sergeant Barns had arrived back to the compound." I looked at the clock, 2:00 AM. I quickly dressed into a light blue flowing dress that I had bought especially with him in mind and drove to the compound.

(2:40 AM) Once inside I opened the double doors leading to the hallway lined with situation and debriefing rooms on each side. I had to see him. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and feel his embrace. My eyes scanned the rooms trying to find him. I wasn't looking where I was going and felt myself bump into a hard chest. My eyes shot up seeing Steve standing in front of me he looked weary. I smiled and greeted him. "Hi. Welcome home Cap."

"Hi Ema, what are you doing here?" He questioned me with a very puzzled tone.

"I came to welcome Bucky home. Where is he?" I waited but got no response. Steve gave me a confused look. This can’t be good.

"Steve, what happen? Where is Bucky?" I asked again now with a more demanding tone. I was starting to get frantic. What was he not telling me?

"Ema he's been shot," he stated making sure his words came out slow but clear.

"What the hell? When and why didn't you let me know?! My voice raised as I tried to keep my composure. I think Steve flinched a little. He had never seen me like this.

"Infirmary." He said firmly. My breath hitched some. I felt as if I was caught in the middle of a hurricane.

(A/N listen to this song )

I turned and ran back to the elevator and I headed up to the infirmary. The white walls the clinic's office greeted me coldly. I stood at the reception desk tapping my fingers on it nervously. After what felt like an eternity a receptionist greeted me.

"May I help you Ms.?" She asked smiling at me.

"Where is James Barns?" I asked with a direct tone.

"I'm sorry are you family?" she questioned in her crisp tone.

"No, I'm his girlfriend and you are going to tell me where he is or I will go back there and find him myself!"

"Family only in the back," she said firmly with a slight grimace on her face and turned to leave me standing there. What's her problem I thought. I decided to take matters into my own hands and quickly scared the room assignments listed on the board on the wall behind the desk. Barns, J. exam room 15. I pushed open the double doors leading to the back and headed for the room. My heart pounding in my chest and ears.

"Ms. You can't go back there!" I heard the receptionist hiss from behind me. I ignored her and pulled open the curtain only to find an empty dissolved exam bed with bloody bandages scattering the floor. My heart dropped at the sight. Old memories of a horrific hospital scene played in my mind as I stood there staring at the room in front of me. However, instead of Chis' lifeless body laying in the bed it was Bucky's.

"Ms. You have to leave now." I head her stern voice say behind me snapping me out of my flashback. I just shook my head and walked out the same way I had come. Once outside I rested my back against the door trying to gain my composure. Silent tears began to fall down your cheeks. Where was he? What had they not told me? Breathe. I took a deep breath as tears fell again.

"Ema, get a grip." I heard a voice snap from in front of me. I looked to find Natasha waiting her turn to get patched up. She looked at me for a moment and leaned her head back against the wall closing her eyes.

"Where is he Nat and why and the hell didn't anyone tell me he was shot?" Range and fear began to fill my voice. She looked up at me and just shook her head as she slumped in her seat. I stood staring at her while clenching the material of my dress.

"His apartment," she sighed before leaning her head back again as she closed her eyes.

I turned left running down the hall toward the elevator. I pressed the call button rapidly as I stood impatiently waiting for the elevator to arrive. "Come on come on you stupid thing" I grumbled. It finally arrived and I made my way to the garage level. I only stopped for a moment to grab my keys from the guard before running to my car. Quickly I got inside and pulled out on two wheels driving like a crazy person his apartment. The late hour made the trip pass quickly since there were only a few cars on the road. I felt like I had been caught up into a hurricane and the only way out was through him.

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#bucky barnes #bucky #buckybarnes #Avengers #steve rogers

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bevioletskies · 5 years

Note

Starmora movie-verse prompt: Where the team is celebrating their very first Christmas as both a team and as a family and it nearly goes wrong when Drax accidentally sets the Milano on fire while attempting to make Christmas dinner.

This fic takes place soon after Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 and long before Avengers: Infinity War.ao3 | word count: 3.5k

Time seemed to pass differently in space; it wasn’t the sort of linear calendar that one became familiar with while living on the ground, tied to one address, one city, one planet. There was no weather or cycle that told them when it was, only where they were, provided they weren’t lost, as the Guardians were ought to do. Still, Peter couldn’t help but incorporate some old-fashioned notions of his, and that included Terran holidays. The others entertained him, mostly so they wouldn’t have to put up with his complaints if they didn’t, but it wasn’t surprising that Groot, Mantis, and Gamora were the most interested in his traditions (though Drax and Rocket would deny they cared at all).

“Merry Christmas,” Peter mumbled into Gamora’s hair. It seemed like she had become more of a pillow these days than his actual pillow.

“Why is it ‘merry’, of all words?” Gamora mused instead of returning the sentiment, turning over to face him. “Why not ‘happy’?”

“I think they say ‘happy’ in Europe.” Peter yawned exaggeratedly, rewarding her with a faceful of his morning breath; she winced, swatting at him in disapproval. “Mantis is doing breakfast, right?”

“As per your request, since you can’t be bothered to cook yourself.” She sat up, reaching for an elastic so she could scrape her hair back into a messy knot. “What’s ‘Europe’?”

Peter laughed, both startled by the unexpected question and pleased by her increasing curiosity, leaning over to kiss her sloppily on the cheek. “If we got some time later, I should break out a Terran map, give you the grand tour.”

The two of them left their shared bunk moments later, ignoring the lecherous grin Rocket shot them on their way down the corridor into the communal living space. Groot was sat on the table - not at it, on it - idly swinging his legs over the edge, while Drax was sat in the seat beside him, holding a glittery bauble up to the little one’s face. “But Quill told me it was Terran tradition to decorate a tree,” Drax explained patiently.

“I am Groot,” Groot protested.

“I didn’t mean Groot, dude,” Peter interjected, swooping in to peel off the garland that Drax had apparently wrapped around poor Groot’s tiny torso, swallowing him up in itchy pine needles. Groot harrumphed in Drax’s direction and motioned for Gamora to pick him up, and she immediately swept him into her arms and carried him off before Drax could continue further. “Coffee?”

“Fresh pot,” Mantis called from their tiny kitchenette, where she was only just barely able to scrape together a proper meal on the minimal appliances they had. “Can you not smell it?”

“All I can smell is - ” Peter wrinkled his nose. “Did someone light a candle in here or something? We shouldn’t be doing that with all the engine fluid leaks we’ve been having this week.”

“You said it was part of the tradition,” Drax said defensively. “You informed us that your mother liked to buy candles that smell of vanillem - ”

“Vanilla,” Peter corrected. “And that doesn’t mean we should be lighting stuff when we’ve got gas canisters lying around, we could end up setting the ship on fire!”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Rocket grumbled as he strolled past, wrench in hand.

“Look, Drax, the only thing I wanted you to be in charge of today was dinner. Can you just stick to that?” Peter sighed.

“Of course,” Drax nodded. For one reason or another, the blasé smile on his face didn’t comfort Peter one bit.

The rest of the morning was slow, sleepy, almost comforting in a way that a lot of their mornings usually weren’t. It was typical of them to be in a rush someplace, jamming food into their mouths without much decorum as they scrambled into their seats in the cockpit, with Gamora alternating between reading off the mission brief and scolding Peter and Rocket for arguing over the controls. Today, she was sprawled on the floor with Groot in her lap, gently reminding him to be patient and wait for the others before opening his presents. It felt oddly domestic, and unusual, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

“This can be our tree,” Peter proclaimed, sticking a small ribbon bow on top of one of the pipe valves that ran over their heads, interlocking in one of the few corners of the ship that wasn’t occupied by machinery, random junk, or some combination of the two. “I’ll bring all the presents over here and out of the way, that’ll work, right?”

“I am Groot?” Groot asked, reaching for him. Peter softened, peeling the bow off and gently patting it on Groot’s temple instead.

“How’s that, kid?” Peter grinned.

“I am Groot,” Groot beamed back.

All things considered, the present exchange went smoothly, with only a minor argument between Peter, Drax, and Rocket that, thankfully, didn’t result in anything being thrown. Gamora considered it a victory, though she suspected Mantis had something to do with it, given her antennae were faintly glowing the entire time. After a brief interlude for lunch, though everyone was already full on breakfast and stale cookies they’d purchased from the last planet they were working on, Drax retreated to the kitchenette, claiming he had to start cooking early or he’d never be done on time.

“Keep an eye on him,” Gamora murmured to Mantis. “You know how he is.”

“I do,” Mantis said, nodding dutifully.

Gamora slipped into her bunk, smiling when she found Peter curled up on their bed with a book. He looked quite cozy, tucked under the covers with his socked feet peeking out at the end, the sleeve hems of his sweater pulled over his hands. “Hi,” he said, smiling.

“Hello yourself,” she replied with an easy grin, shutting the door behind her. “I’m surprised at how well everyone’s behaving today.”

“Yeah, well, if Rocket could just relax for a second - ”

“ - or if both of you cared to listen to one another and realize that everything doesn’t have to be a contest, then maybe we’d have less animosity to deal with in the first place,” Gamora interrupted firmly, joining him on the bed. “You said this holiday was meant to be a time for family.”

“And families fight all the time,” he countered. “It’s normal.”

Gamora carefully placed her hand over his. “But there’s always a breaking point, Peter. A moment where we might decide that fighting that much means it’s not worth fighting for. Let’s not push it, push each other.” She bowed her head somewhat, sighing mournfully. “We’ve already lost family, all of us. Let’s not be the cause of losing this one, too.”

Concerned, he cupped her face, tilting her chin upwards so their eyes could meet. “Of course,” he promised softly. “You’re right. We’re all we’ve got, and I’m not about to go and change that.” Peter pulled Gamora into his arms, wrapping her up tightly in his embrace, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I wish your sister was here. So we’d know she’s okay. That she’s safe.”

“I wish she was, too.” Gamora snuggled into his side, finding herself pleasantly drowsy, serene in the way she usually was when it was just the two of them, away from the chaos of everyone else. “Did you…did you do anything like this when you were with Yondu?”

Peter swallowed. “Yeah. Tried to, anyway. I got him all sorts of weird trinkets. When I was younger, I made Kraglin pay for ‘em, but I had to promise to find him somethin’, too, so we ended up gettin’ gifts for each other. And Yondu would always find some random Terran junk at the trading posts, hide it from me until the end of the year so he could give me a whole pile of stuff in one go. Most of it was broken crap, but sometimes…he found some real treasures. And besides, it’s the thought that counts, right?” His voice wavered on the last few words; she patted him sympathetically.

“I like that sentiment,” she said quietly. “Growing up the way that I did…both on my home planet, and with Thanos…you learn to appreciate the little things. The small victories. And the intent, not just the outcome.”

“I like the sound of that, too.” He leaned in to kiss her, briefly but sweetly, pleased by the way her hands automatically came to rest on his torso, then slid around his waist to embrace him in return, bringing them even closer together. Unfortunately, only seconds later, the spell was broken by the sudden cry of Mantis’s panicked shriek.

“FIRE!”

“Here we go,” Peter groaned, scrambling to his feet. Gamora shot him a dirty look before yanking her boots back on and running out the door.

It was, to their dismay, about as bad as they anticipated - for such a small kitchenette that took up a laughably small area within the ship’s common space, it felt like the entire room was on fire, flames burning hot and high, seemingly consuming every moldy cabinet and every crappy appliance they owned. Thankfully, Rocket’s first instinct was to snatch Groot up and sprint the other direction, while Mantis was clutching onto Drax’s arm, trying to keep him calm while he was being far too generous with the fire extinguisher, its contents spraying everything in his line of sight, and then some.

“Watch it!” Peter yelled over the chaos, but it was too late - Drax turned in the direction of his voice, and splat - all across the front of his sweater. “Hey, whoa, this thing was expensive, dude - ”

“For the love of - get out of the way,” Gamora ordered, stepping in front of Peter and snatching the extinguisher out of Drax’s clearly incapable hands. One well-aimed squeeze, and the fire promptly began to die out. The moment the last flame flickered away, Gamora set down the extinguisher with a decisive clank and folded her arms across her chest, shaking her head in disappointment. “Look at this! Half the ship is now covered in foam!”

“Almost looks like it snowed in here,” Peter said, dragging his finger through the mess on his shirt and wincing with instant regret. “Hey, it’s beginning to look a lot like - ”

“Peter,” Gamora snapped. “Drax, what happened?”

“I could not begin to tell you,” he admitted, his voice unusually small. “I’m…sorry, Gamora. And to you as well, Quill. I know how important this day, these traditions, are to you.”

Peter softened, moved by the rare sight of Drax’s humility. “Hey, accidents happen. It’s okay. I mean…hell, this ship gets repaired, like, twice a month, anyways, what’s one more time?” Gamora glared at him. “I’m gonna pay for that comment, aren’t I?”

“We’re all going to pay for it,” she said bitingly, though she unfolded her arms, letting them fall to her sides. “Whatever it was, just don’t let it happen again, okay? And to make up for it, you can clean up your mess, and Peter and I will figure out what to do for dinner since we’ve quite literally burned through all our regular rations, too.” He nodded, smiling gratefully at them both as he got to his feet, reinvigorated.

Meanwhile, Peter and Gamora retreated back to their bunk to change into clean clothes. “Should’ve known somethin’ was gonna go wrong. We can never have just one good day, can we?” Peter sighed, stripping off his sweater and reaching for one of the T-shirts he’d tossed on the floor a few days ago.

Gamora wrinkled her nose in disapproval and pulled a clean one from their tiny closet instead, shoving it into his bare chest. “Something without a stain, please,” she insisted. “And we’ve had plenty of good days, Peter. It’s perfect days that elude us, and even then, I think I’d rather have several good days than a single perfect one.”

“Yeah…true,” he said thoughtfully, smiling. He pulled the T-shirt over his head, yanking it all the way down to his waist and smoothing out the wrinkles. “I can think of a lot of good days, actually. Where we all just kinda…relaxed, hung out, didn’t plan anything huge. Maybe that’s where this all went wrong. Tryna make somethin’ out of nothin’.”

“Your traditions aren’t nothing, Peter. I like learning about everyone’s cultures, holding on to what’s left of them,” she said gently. “We’ll just have to try again next year, but right now, we need to focus on what to do next. When you were a child, what did you do when dinner didn’t work out?”

“I remember Mom burned the turkey one year. First time she tried to do it all by herself,” Peter said, chuckling quietly at the memory. “Grandpa told her not to worry about it and just ordered a bunch of pizzas. But I don’t think we can get delivery in space.”

Gamora cracked a small smile. “No, but we have this ship, and the entire galaxy ahead of us. What’s the next best thing?”

“I’ve got a place in mind, but…you’re not gonna like it.” He wrapped his arms around her, drawing her in close with the hope that she’d be too distracted by his embrace to care. Predictably, it didn’t work; she merely narrowed her eyes at him.

“I know exactly what you mean, and I don’t,” she sighed. “But when have I ever been able to talk you out of anything?”

Three hours later, the Guardians found themselves sitting at a bar with a meager offering of chips, some cheesy concoction of what Peter supposed was meant to be a mockery of Terran pizza, and cheap alcohol served in suspiciously foggy glasses laid out before them. Gamora reached for her drink, took a swig, and slammed it back down on the counter immediately. Despite her extensive body modifications, she could still feel her gag reflex kicking in.

“Contraxia, really?”

“It snows here all the time, it’s the best I could do with where we were and what we had!” Peter said defensively. “No, Groot, don’t drink that - ”

“Think I rather would’ve jus’ eaten the burnt rations instead of this crap,” Rocket said, gingerly picking at the chip bowl with one hand and deftly sweeping Groot away from his beer stein with the other. “Y’know, it’s kinda depressing how we’re still poor as hell after all the stuff we’ve done for the galaxy.”

“Money isn’t the point,” Gamora reminded him.

“Then what is the point?” Drax asked intently, leaning around Peter to look at her. “Rocket is right - ”

“Oh, it’s the end times,” Peter muttered; Mantis couldn’t help but giggle into his shoulder.

“ - we have been a team for almost a year now, and the galaxy never remains saved, nor are they grateful for our efforts,” Drax continued. “I am glad to have you as companions in combat and in life, but…it feels like we will never fulfill our intended purpose.”

“I don’t know if there is a point, Drax.” Gamora stared into the contents of her mug, watching it slowly swirl around in an almost hypnotizing fashion. “As in, I don’t know if there’s a point where this will be…’fulfilled’. Where we can sit back and…watch the sun rise on a grateful universe.” She shuddered, almost like she was remembering her words from someone else’s mouth. “But I would rather say that I tried to do something, than to admit I did nothing. That I got to choose what I did, and I chose right. Isn’t that what we’re all here for, anyway? Because we made that choice?”

“We chose to give a shit,” Peter echoed quietly. “And yeah, that is what matters. Even if we don’t always get the recognition we deserve. Or the money.”

“You’re a bunch of saps, the whole lot of you,” Rocket snorted, shaking his head. “Personally, I look forward to the day where we do a job for someone who actually pays us what they promised, and pays us real well. Hell, enough to retire, even.”

“Then what?” Mantis asked softly. “And then you leave?” Groot sat up from where he was perched on Gamora’s shoulder, looking at Rocket with big, liquid eyes of despair.

“No, I - look, I’m not drunk enough to get all touchy-feely with you guys,” Rocket said uncomfortably, taking another generous gulp of his drink as if he were looking to get himself there. “I don’t plan on going nowhere. Even if we are gonna be down on our luck forever.”

“So what does happen on this hypothetical day of yours? When we get all the money that we need?” Mantis persisted.

“We start with a better ship, for one,” Rocket snarked, clearing his throat. “One with a real kitchen that has a sprinkler system and an actual oven. Bunks that aren’t the size of a closet. Engine that don’t bust on me every two weeks.”

“Fresh food,” Peter added. “Can’t forget about that.”

“A space for physical exercise, to keep myself in peak condition,” Drax said proudly, flexing his arms in a way that made Peter a little bit more than slightly jealous.

“Books,” Mantis and Gamora said at nearly the same time; they exchanged embarrassed, but pleased smiles, and Mantis reached over to squeeze Gamora’s hand in camaraderie. “There is much I have missed out on, living in isolation for so long.”

“You could say the same of me,” Gamora said, smiling ruefully. “It would be nice for both of us to get the education we never received.”

“I am Groot!” Groot piped up, jumping onto the counter and holding his arms out wide. Everyone else exchanged dubious looks.

“What’re you, crazy? No way, kid,” Rocket chuckled, though he patted for Groot to jump onto his shoulder. Groot acquiesced, snuggling into Rocket’s fur affectionately as he did.

“You know what?” Peter said, turning so he could see everyone else. Seeing all their faces staring back at him made his chest feel warm with joy, comfort, all the things he’d tried so hard to recreate on the ship they called home just hours ago, but he felt it here, now, in a shitty bar playing horrible music and serving even worse food. “I just realized we all named a bunch of stuff that’s for us to share. Not…y’know, big houses, fancy clothes, statues, or whatever it is rich folk spend all their units on. That’s gotta mean somethin’ right?”

“That no matter the circumstance, no matter the intent or the outcome…we want to live our lives together.” Gamora held up her mug. “And that, I think, is worth celebrating.”

“Ugh,” Rocket groaned, though he lifted his as well. “You’re startin’ to sound like Quill.”

“Cheer up, Rocket, it is a holiday,” Mantis grinned. “You can be grumpy tomorrow.”

“I’d rather he wasn’t,” Gamora said dryly, a grin spreading across her face as Peter playfully clinked his glass against hers. “Drax?”

They all turned to him expectantly, surprised to find his eyes shining with unshed tears. “Ever since the death of my wife and daughter, I have felt…lost. Adrift in the cosmos, with no single person to find solace in, to share a home and a life with. That has changed with all of you. You, who accept my blunders, my missteps, my history.” He smiled shakily and finally held up his glass to meet everyone else’s. “To my new family.”

“We’ve been a team for like, nine months already - ”

“Dude, don’t ruin the moment,” Peter muttered under his breath, elbowing Rocket. “To family!” Everyone echoed the sentiment with a hearty cry, ignoring the puzzled stares they were getting from other bar patrons, and knocked back the remains of their drinks. Immediately, they all began to cough and splutter uncontrollably. “Aw, man, that’s awful.”

“Never bring us to Contraxia again,” Drax agreed, clearing his throat harshly. “Shall we proceed to the next bar?”

“I’m already out the door,” Rocket said, slamming his mug down and jumping down from the barstool, careful not to jostle Groot too much as he let out a triumphant whoop.

“But you are still - ”

“It is just a saying, Drax,” Mantis said gently, guiding him out the door.

“Hey, you guys didn’t pay - and they’re gone,” Peter sighed, sinking back onto his barstool, only to notice Gamora was already at the register. When she returned, he reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers and leading them both out into the strangely pleasant chill of Contraxia’s ever-present weather. “Always one step ahead of me.”

“Not always, just usually,” Gamora teased, bringing them to a stop right outside. She stepped around to his front, taking his other hand in hers. “Speaking of…promise me that you’ll have a better plan for next year? One that doesn’t involve letting Drax cook?”

Peter smiled down at her, finding it impossible to do anything else. The snow was coming down steady, little flakes landing in her hair and on her eyelashes, her cheeks flushed from the cold. Despite the fact his ship was half-burnt to a crisp and that he could already feel the regret of stale cheese bubbling in his stomach, everything just felt…right. “I’m just glad there’s gonna be a next year. And another…and another,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss her. “And yeah…I promise.”

#ask #Anonymous #starmora #starmora fic #myfic #marvel #last prompt for now! but another christmas fic is coming on monday #have a good holiday y'all!!

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