#Bobbi morse x reader

[florencebirdsong]

I am so normal and can be trusted with marvel women. Please give me marvel women. I won’t bite them. I am so normal about marvel women. Please give them to me

[tvseries-writings]

From a great power comes great responsibilities

Wandanat x Bioquake x Bobbi x reader

Plot: Reader goes beyond her limits with her powers to help others (exhausts her powers)

TW: death for a moment(?)

It all happens so fast that you don't realize it until the building starts collapsing over your heads. You see a chunk of concrete the size of a car fall on top of you, and before your brain can connect, your body acts on instinct, carrying you, Daisy, and Bobbi out of the building. You concentrate on teleporting all three of you, intact, inside the quinjet where Jemma, Natasha and Wanda are running the operation, or at least, were before everything went to hell.

You land on the floor of the plane with a thud, falling forward and coughing hard to expel the dust that has filled your lungs. You glance at your girls making sure they are okay and then, you cross your arms to teleport again but Natasha's hand on your left arm stops you.

"Don’t even think about it, everything is collapsing, you can't teleport in there. It is suicide and you are not going to save anyone if you are dead, do you understand me?"

You swallow, watching the building collapse, and so, with a small smile on your lips, you lean toward Natasha and kiss her. It lasts a few seconds and she is distracted enough to let go of her grip on you.

"I'm sorry but I have to do this," you whisper and then, you close your eyes and feel the earth vanish from under your feet. You focus on the 'one safe place inside the building that you know with absolute certainty will not collapse. The beauty of a secret Hydra base was the bunkers, after all. Those crazy fucking Nazis had thought that sacrificing at least a hundred of their own people was a fair price to pay to take out three S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, and they had blown up the load-bearing walls of the building with a simple and very trivial click. Nazis, they never change.

When you open your eyes again and realize you are not dead or under some boulder, you gloat internally and mentally thank Natasha for forcing you to learn the floor plan of that base. You remember perfectly her stern look when she had presented you with the mission and forced you to learn every single detail by heart. At that moment you had hated it but now...now you really wanted to kiss her.

You raise your hands in the air when you notice a score of soldiers pointing their guns at you, hiding behind them their "incentives," as Hydra liked to call them. Wives, husbands, children, mothers and fathers hid behind those men and women in black with a crest that did not belong to them.

"It's okay, I just want to get you out of here. I can teleport you all but in multiple groups."

You curse yourself internally, you know you'll never be able to take this much effort, the last time you tried to teleport five people together you fainted and were unconscious for six hours you can't even imagine what would happen with forty, including soldiers and families.

You take a deep breath and think quickly about how you can take everyone out of there. The floor under your feet trembles and just as the children begin to cry, the earpiece in your ear comes alive.

"Y/n, damn it, Daisy can't hold it much longer...you have to get out of there, do you hear me? The structure won't hold much longer" Bobbi yells in your ear and you nod, well aware that she cannot see you, before giving her a verbal response.

"I'm trying honey, thanks for the advice though."

You mumble sarcastically, no longer listening to what your girlfriends are shouting at you over the comms and focusing instead on getting the people in front of you to safety. The soldiers lower their weapons and pull off the bands on your arm, throwing them to the ground.

"Are there others in the base?"

"They're all dead, ma'am" the lieutenant, or who you think is the lieutenant, answers you by looking around as if to confirm what she just said. Your stomach clenches at the thought of all those people who died for a cause they didn't even believe in but you quickly shake off that feeling, you don't have time for it. You quickly count them, noting that there are twenty-five of them before thinking about how to get them all out of there safely.

"So… I can take all the children outside."

You point to the little ones; some of them are crying while others are looking at you with wide, fearful eyes but charged with the same admiration and hope with which a child looks at his favorite superhero. There are nine children but you can make it, they are worth four times one adult, right? You can even take four adults with you, then; you have to do it, you won't have the strength to make three more trips, you are sure.

You gather them around you and have each of them touch arms or legs, depending on where their little hands reach, and do the same with the four women, two old and two young, who accompany them. As they say, women and children first.

"Y/n, we have set up a camp out here, four hundred meters from the base in a southwesterly direction."

-What the hell is the South?" you think, before shrugging your shoulders and closing your eyes. The feeling of the floor vanishing beneath your feet is not something you will ever get used to, if you have to be honest. You hear the children scream, whether from excitement or fear you can't tell, and then, in less than a second, you find yourself at that poorly set up base camp Jemma told you about a few seconds ago. A little dizziness forces you to lean on the ground, on the hot sand beneath you, and small drops of blood color the grains beneath your fingers. You raise your hand, reaching up your nose and finding the source of the bleeding. Children are being rounded up by an officer but you fail to recognize him as your girlfriends run toward you. Jemma has a first aid kit in her hand, but before she can set about playing cheerful surgeon with you, you scan to the side, staggering on your own feet.

"I'm fine, I've got to get back in there."

"You can't stand y/n, you can't-"

You frown, noticing only in that moment that Daisy is not there with all of you.

"Where's Dee?"

"She fainted, tried to absorb as many shocks as possible. She's collapsed y/n and that's also what's going to happen to you if you continue, you're already in a very bad way."

Jemma lifts your head, causing your gazes to cross and looking critically at your pupils and the nosebleed that doesn't seem to have any intention of stopping coming out. You back away a few steps, looking into their eyes.

"Go to Daisy, I'll take care of this," you say and then disappear again.

You repeat the same process as before, surrounding yourself with six soldiers and watching the remaining six.

"I will come back for you, I promise."

And as you disappear into thin air, another tremor shakes the ground.

The landing is more abrupt this time. Your heart beats so weakly that you feel as if oxygen is not getting to your brain. Contrary to what you expected, Natasha grabs you by the arms before your face can splat on the scorching sand. You struggle to stay awake and if so out that you don't even notice Daisy, pale, sweaty, and trembling, over the shoulders of the former Russian spy. You blink a few times to focus on the image in front of you and finally the sounds reach your ears again.

"Y/N!"

Natasha shakes you by the shoulders and you awaken from your stupor. The worried gazes of Wanda, Jemma, Daisy, Natasha and Bobbi are fixed on you as Natasha gently lays you on the ground and Jemma places a bottle of water on your lips, helping you drink it. As soon as you remember where you are, you try to sit up but Daisy stops you, simply putting a hand on your chest to keep you down.

"I'm-I'm fine, mm-missing six people-D-I have to an-go."

You stammer, the effort you've put in doesn't even make you able to utter a coherent and clea sentence. Another jolt shakes the floor beneath your feet and Daisy groans in pain, bringing her hands to her head and squeezing her eyes shut. That small advantage allows you to roll over and with an absurd effort you manage to get to your feet and disappear back under their gazes.

When you get to the bunker, the first thing you do is fall to your knees and throw up. You completely empty your stomach under the disgusted gaze of the six soldiers in front of you. You wipe your mouth with your suit, wrinkling your nose at the disgusting taste of vomit in your mouth and leaning against the wall to pull yourself up without passing out. You must hold on a little longer, just a little, and then you can collapse to the ground.

The six soldiers surround you-diligently avoiding the pool of vomit on the ground and the blood that keeps coming out of your nose-and in a moment you are out.

As soon as you hit the sand, you sprawl to the ground. Your cheek scrapes against the sand and this time Natasha is not quick enough to catch you. Jemma drops to her knees next to you, turns you so that your face is facing her but your eyes are closed. She checks your chest and when she notices that the latter does not rise or fall, she checks your pulse before a gasp of terror and fear escapes her lips.

"Bobbi, adrenaline and defibrillator. Now!"

Natasha tilts your head back, her eyes glazed over as she opens your mouth and blows air into your lungs. Jemma begins compressions.

1,2,3,4,5

Nat puts air into your lungs and your chest rises and falls once before falling back inert. Wanda's sobs and Jemma's barely stifled ones are the only sound before a crack makes your girls nauseous.

"It's okay, it happens during compressions," Jemma's voice trembles as she says it and then, she performs another round of compressions. Your arms burn but that pain is nothing compared to the dull ache that is burning in your chest at that moment.

1,2,3,4,5

Natasha forces your chest up again and then Bobbi arrives with defibrillator and adrenaline in hand. She is sweating and her heart is racing. She has never run so fast in her entire life.

"Bobbi, take my place."

Jemma continues with compressions, then, on her go, Bobbi gets in place and follows her own rhythm.

"Come on rockstar, it's not your time yet, come on."

Bobbi's breath barely hides the tremor in her voice but not the tears that line her cheeks. It takes two defibrillator shocks before your heart starts beating again.

"Oh my God" Wanda bursts into tears, leaning over your face and gently kissing your forehead, brushing a few strands of sweaty hair off your face.

"Good, you did great love" Natasha whispers, taking your hand in her own as Bobbi laughs from relief.

Daisy instead stands by, frowning, and Jemma is the first to notice.

"Dee, what's wrong?"

Daisy looks at you and then, nods.

"Something's wrong, her heart, it doesn't have the usual vibes, non-"

And then, your heart stops beating again.

"Fuck, Bobbi give me the adrenaline."

Jemma Simmons never swears but there are always exceptions.

Jemma performs two more rounds of compressions before injecting adrenaline into your chest. She hooks you up to one of the monitors that Fitz had devised a few months earlier, at the request of the biochemist, for just such situations, and when he sees that the line remains flat, his heart, too, seems to stop for a few seconds.

Your body is shaken by the shock emitted by the defibrillator; it arches upward and then falls back to the sand as hard as a puppet whose strings have been suddenly dropped. The line remains flat and Jemma's tears now gush without limit.

"No no, Jem you have to try again. She can't, she can't..."

Wanda bursts into tears, looking at your lifeless body lying on the ground. Natasha punches the ground with such force that the crack that can be heard echoing cannot mean anything good. Bobbi cries as she takes the former Russian spy's hand and gives her a look. Anything not to think about what just happened.

"No, it doesn't end like that."

"Daisy...she-"

Daisy takes your lifeless body in her hands, shaking it by the shoulders.

"Do you understand me? You can't fucking die, you can't. You promised us, you stubborn idiot, you promised us!"

The Inhuman hits your chest hard, her fist closed, and without her really being able to control what she's doing, a powerful jolt goes through your chest and crashes against the ground, creating a small crack beneath you, and then, the flat line of the monitor disappears, replaced by regular little roller coasters.

"W-what?" Daisy whispers, sitting on the floor suddenly much more tired than before from the effort she has just made. Jemma hurries to personally check your pulse and when she feels the pulse under her fingers, a shuddering breath of joy leaves her lips.

"I...I think your tremors got her heart beating again Dee."

Jemma does not detach her fingers from your wrist, lulling herself into the sweet sensation of your heartbeat, albeit weak. Wanda covers her face, bursting into tears, and the other girls also let out a liberating cry, releasing all the tension and fear they had felt up to that moment.

...................................................................................................

Your body takes five days to heal just enough to open your eyes. You realize you are in the Quinjet's medical capsule within seconds, by now you have been there so many times over the years that you know the smallest details: the familiar beeping sound of your heartbeat, the red button to call Jemma just below the lamp behind the back of the bed, the IV that feeds drugs into your veins, and the glass from which Jemma checks that you are not doing anything the doctor has forbidden you to do. A little unfair of her since she is the doctor. You feel as if a truck has hit you and then a car has run over you to complete the job. You raise your hand to scratch your nose but the oxygen mask prevents you from doing so so you squeeze it between your fingers to remove it but just as you are about to do so, a hasty knock against the clear glass causes you to smile a small smile of exasperation. Even before you turn around, in fact, you already know that you will see your beautiful doctor on the other side. To your surprise, however, she is not alone.

"You just woke up and already you want to take off your mask, I have no words really. Who is the doctor here? You have to do what I tell you if you want to get better, between you and Dais I really don't know who is worse."

Jemma admonishes you and you blush, feeling like a child being scolded by his parents.

"Hey, what do I have to do with this now?" Daisy pouts before slinging herself into your arms. You can't help but notice that his forearm is completely bandaged. When he notices where your gaze points, the Inhuman shrugs.

"It was worth it."

She slides the mask off your face, kissing you with so much passion and love that it leaves you breathless for a few seconds before the Inhuman promptly rushes to slip the mask back over your face.

"You scared us malyshka" Natasha approaches you and her plastered hand makes you frown. The Russian blushes, and for some reason you realize you don't really need to ask her how she broke her hand. Wanda caresses your cheek, leaving a tender kiss on your forehead.

"How are you feeling detka?"

"I'm just a little tired but I'm fine; exactly what happened?"

Their faces darken and that joy you had seen quickly fades.

"You collapsed, your heart couldn't take the strain, and we had to revive you twice." Bobbi's voice trembles as she says this and you reach out your hand toward her; the blonde grabs it and intertwines your fingers, turning a small smile to you.

"You were really a rockstar but if you do that again, I think we might actually kill you."

"Oh yes, don't think we haven't thought about what punishment to give you. Besides not being able to use your powers for at least four months-"

"What? Four months? But that's an eternity-" you jerk back to your seat, removing your mask and immediately regretting it as your vision blurs and the pain in your ribs increases exponentially, so much so that you lean to the right and vomit into the only thing you can grab.

Jemma strokes your back while Wanda holds your hair as you empty the meager contents of your stomach. As soon as you finish, you are so weak that dizziness takes over and your head falls back forward. If it weren't for Wanda, your face would be splattered against the floor. Jemma casts a glance at the heart monitor, and the value it reads makes your heart beat so fast you're afraid your chest might explode. She puts on your oxygen mask and then checks your vitals again.

Your pupils roll back, and as you fall helpless into Wanda's arms, the Sokovian panics a little.

"Hey, hey, detka wake up."

Wanda taps your cheeks but the only thing that changes is the further lowering of your heart rate.

"Jem, what's going on?" Daisy strokes your face, putting her hand on your chest to check your heart vibrations.

Jemma rummages through the drawers of the medical capsule and then, at the fifth drawer she ravages for something, she finally finds what she is looking for. In her hands she clutches a small glass case, inside which she glimpses a metal disk less than three centimeters in diameter and less than two centimeters thick.

As soon as she sees this, Bobbi cuts off your suit exposing your bare chest except for the three electrodes and the black bra you are wearing.

Jemma places the diskette on top of your left breast, just above your sternum, and presses the button above it. The disc blends in with your skin, being invisible to the human eye, and your body jerks, before your heartbeat returns to normal. The small jolt causes you to open your eyes and grimace in pain.

"What the hell-" you mutter, reaching out to massage your chest but Jemma stops you before you can.

"Hey, your heart rate was extremely low and I had to put a pacemaker on you. It's not invasive, Fitz designed one that blends in perfectly and doesn't give any problems whatsoever but you'll have to avoid EMPs but you can't take it off love, okay? I think the effort you put in was such that it damaged your heart, and without a peacemaker you could have another heart attack so until we find another solution and until we have done more tests, you can't use your powers."

You nod, squeezing your eyes shut as fatigue takes over.

"Rest now, we're here malyshka."

Natasha leaves a kiss in your hair while Daisy leaves one on your cheek. Jemma dims the lights to allow you to rest and Wanda lies next to you in the crib while Bobbi closes the glass curtains facing outward to give you all some privacy as you fall into dreamland surrounded by your girls.

You don't know it yet but one of those children you saved is going to become one of the best agents S.H.I.E.L.D. has ever had so maybe a slightly battered heart is worth it.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. Leave like, comment and if you like support me on ko-fi. Have a great day!

Taglist: @wandanatsbaby @bioquake-archives @bioquakeweek @daisyjohnsonx @wandanatsgirlfriend @chaekhan @station19 @resilientpendragon @so-no-kissing-then @thearchpitbullmx @ashadash0904 @kingshitonly @alwaysgoodnight @callistic @xjule @yuleni18 @simpforwandanat @alexxislexi @mrsdanversromanoff @coollemonsaresour @hushed-woodsman @razorscooteer @eponine-xx @maniacallinc @michelle170 @classyig @elenaguarnieri @scarletwidow @tati3001 @cristin-rjd @your-my-mission @mr-nicely @hi-i-1 @anniethurs @ktstwice @scarlet-raccoon @maria-403 @goldfishthegr8 @wandanatfan @looiegirl-blog @bioquake-blog @daisyjohnsonx

[redhairedwolfwitch]

Agents of SHIELD Masterlist

Fics are under the 'read more' do not repost any of my fics anywhere, reblogs are allowed but do not claim my writing as your own.

We'll Be Back In A Moment

Surprise - Melinda May x Reader

Christmas Party Reveal - Daisy Johnson x Coulson!Reader

Bobbi Morse

Supergirl’s Sister - Bobbi Morse x Fem!Kryptonian!Reader Supergirl’s Sister Part 2 - Bobbi Morse x Kryptonian!Danvers!Reader Crisis After Crisis - Supergirl’s Sister Part 3 - Bobbi Morse x Fem!Danvers!Reader Survivor - Bobbi Morse x Fem!Reader Colours of Emotion - Bobbi Morse x Fem!May!Reader Slow - Bobbi Morse x Speedster!Fem!Reader Wing-Woman - Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff, Bobbi Morse x Reader Wing-Woman’s Girlfriend - Wing-Woman Part 2 - Bobbi Morse x Fem!Reader Missing Her - Bobbi Morse x Reader Scream - Bobbi Morse x Inhuman!Fem!Reader A Date At The Gates Of Life - Bobbi Morse x Thorsdottir!Reader Bobbi Morse xFem!Reader Soulmate!AU - Tattoos Bathtub Comfort- Bobbi Morse x Fem!Reader Comfort - Bobbi Morse x Fem!Reader x Daisy Johnson Confessions at the Gates of Death - Bobbi Morse xThorsdottir!Reader Cat Eyes - Bobbi Morse x Fem!Reader x Daisy Johnson

Lady Sif

The Strategist - Lady Sif x Thor’s Twin!Reader

The Strategist Part 2  - Lady Sif x Fem!Reader, Agents of SHIELD x Fem!Reader

[untoldreader]

A Fractured Bond

Bobbi Morse x pregnant reader

Chapter 2

The revelation of my pregnancy had brought a momentary surge of joy and excitement into our lives. However, as days turned into weeks, I began to sense a growing distance between Bobbi and me. The once unbreakable bond we shared seemed to be cracking under the weight of unspoken fears and uncertainties.

I watched as Bobbi busied herself with missions, throwing herself into her work with an almost desperate determination. She became distant, often coming home late and exhausted, leaving me to navigate the overwhelming emotions of pregnancy alone.

One evening, after Bobbi had returned from yet another mission, her tired eyes met mine as we stood in the doorway of our apartment. The silence between us was deafening, heavy with unspoken words and unaddressed concerns.

"Bobbi, we need to talk," I said, my voice betraying the ache in my heart.

She sighed, running a hand through her disheveled hair. "I know. I've been trying to find the right time, but everything's just... so complicated right now."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I fought to keep my voice steady. "I thought this would bring us closer, but it feels like we're drifting apart. We're supposed to be partners, Bobbi, in every sense of the word."

A flicker of pain crossed her face, and she reached out to touch my arm gently. "I know, and I'm sorry. It's just... I'm scared, Y/N. Scared that I won't be able to protect you or our child. Scared that I'll fail as a parent."

A wave of understanding washed over me, mingled with my own fears and insecurities. "Bobbi, we're in this together. We can face whatever comes our way, but we have to do it as a team. Our child needs both of us."

She nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You're right. I've been so caught up in my own fears that I forgot to lean on you, to trust that we can do this together."

I reached out, taking her hand in mine, offering a silent reassurance. "We're going to be amazing parents, Bobbi. But we have to communicate, to share our fears and doubts. Our love can conquer anything if we let it."

Bobbi's grip tightened, and she leaned her forehead against mine. "I love you, Y/N. I'm sorry for shutting you out. Let's promise to be there for each other, every step of the way."

A sense of relief washed over me as we stood there, embracing the vulnerability that had momentarily threatened to tear us apart. In that moment, I knew that our bond was stronger than any fear or doubt.

Together, we would face the challenges of parenthood, supporting each other through the storms that lay ahead. Our love, though tested, would prevail, knitting us together in a bond that could weather any storm.

≈========================≈

Note: This chapter explores a period of angst within the story, but it is important to remember that conflicts can be resolved through open communication and mutual support. :)

Bobbi's Masterlist Chapter 3 >

[karaslittlesunshine]

really wanna write an agents of shield age regression fanfic but i dont know if theres an audience for it?? i mean, i think im going to write them for myself because they’re my ultimate comfort right now, but if anyone else would like em i’ll post them?? 

mainly wanna write for jemma simmons (or fitzsimmons), daisy johnson, melinda may, or bobbi morse. but definitely up to writing the whole team too! x little!reader 

[unholyhelbig]

any chance for a kate x reader angst?

Title: Firecrest (Part 1/???)

Ship: Female!Reader x Kate Bishop

Wordcount: 4075

Summary: Kate Bishop and y/n have an unspoken agreement that revolves around being enemies with benefits. But when Kate's new mentor is someone Y/n is very familiar with, things become complicated.

Warnings: Mentions of sexual activities, fire, mentions of childhood abandonment, horrible grammar (I don't proofread lol), and things I'm sure I'm forgetting.

[A/n: how about enemies to lovers angst? How about Enemies to lovers with a little fake dating sprinkled in there? Let me know if this is something you all would like to see continued!]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

Your mother had the in-depth beauty of a street dog. Her features were angular, yet soft and welcoming. People were often tempted to reach and run their fingers through her fur. But she tended to gently correct. She had the perfect demeanor for a government spy. However, you had always known her as a brilliant biochemist. Alluring in her brilliance.

The soft lights of the city shaded her face in the back of the taxi. The air had warmed significantly, but the low hum of the air conditioner made you pull your suit jacket close to your breast. The maroon had felt like too much at first. But the impressed nod from the woman next to you was enough to ebb away any doubts.

Your mother popped open her compact and swiped her finger against the corner of her mouth, taking away the smudged gloss that wasn’t noticeable in comparison to her presence. There was not much you feared in this world, but her wrath. Her annoyance. Her disappointment. None of which she flashed often.

“Remember what we talked about, y/n.”

“Of course. Would you like me to repeat it?”

She snapped the compact and leveled you with amusement. Her eyebrow lifted, the start of a smile at the corner of her lip. She couldn’t be serious. You made eye contact with the taxi driver in the mirror. He showed the same amusement that your mother did, yet somehow, hers stung more.

A groan escaped you, but bled into the mantra that was drilled into you for the past two weeks. “I will be the perfect lady who is grateful for the success of Lance and his political circuit.”

“And?”

“I will not start anything I can’t finish with Katherine Elizabeth Bishop, And I’m an adult perfectly capable of handling myself.”

“That wasn’t part of it.” Your mother corrected softly. Her hands were suddenly on you, smoothing down the lapel of your suit. “But It’ll do. Mostly, because we’re here.”

Eleanor Bishop often held her galas in the historic buildings of downtown Manhattan. There were small pamphlets lingering by the extensive hand-carved doors. They’d detail the rich family that had built it from the ground up. The architecture was always admittedly beautiful, and Eleanor had a subtle, expensive taste.

This venue was no different; stretching hallways and men in suits that mirrored yours in a tasteful black. Your mother never stepped ahead of you, instead holding a hand out and helping you from the back of the taxi. You’d left a generous tip, careful not to shove your hands into your pockets.

“This used to be a museum for fine arts and culture. The last I heard; the city was going to tear it down but made it a historical site. They use it for banquets now, I suppose.”

“Oh? You’ve read the informational booklet, then?”

She jabbed her elbow into your ribs and mocked a scowl. “No. I robbed it. How do you think we paid for your college tuition, kiddo?”

That was an exaggeration. You were 90% sure- maybe 75%. Bobbi Morse was a force to be reckoned with, and that was something you had learned from a young age. She’d let you sit on the counter of her lab while she worked, and you’d watch her with absolute awe.

Your mother had taught you, without fail, a variety of fighting skills. Starting with Aikido and ending with Taekwondo. She was a master at her craft, both in the field and in her lab and had worked with you since you could walk to train you in the same.

“Mm,” You hummed your response, “Which priceless painting did you take?”

“It was a vase, smart-ass.”

You pulled in a breath to retort before effectively being rendered silent by the performance hall. Eleanor Bishop had gone all out for the benefits that she backed. This was a vast space that was adorned in white sheer and glittering lights. A slideshow of the sponsored bird sanctuary flashed on the televisions scattered throughout the space.

There was a band on the stage, string instruments that you could feel in the center of your chest. The low notes shuddered through you as you took in the crowd. There were few that you actually recognized, usually hazed in expensive alcohol and lingering by the food, or some form of fresh air.

“It’s ironic that it’s about birds, right?”

She leveled you with an unimpressed look and squeezed your shoulder fondly. It didn’t take long for Lance to make his way over to the both of you. His eyes lit up and a smile spread across his freshly-shaved face. He gave you a small wave, gently exiting the conversation he was having with a congressman, a millionaire, or an architect that was just the right amount of desperate.

Lance Hunter had stolen your mothers heart when you were ten years old. You always assumed it was the accent, but the more you got to know him, the more you understood his charms. Lance had never forced things with you, had never claimed to be your father.

There were quiet moments when he’d join you on the wrap-around porch of your family home and just sit. The two of you would watch the way the sun dipped behind the horizon, sipping on syrupy cans of soft drink. Eventually, you talked to him, and he listened with diligence.

“My girls,” he said, placing a chaste kiss against your forehead before sidling up next to Bobbi. They had effortlessly matched in a deep and royal blue that contrasted the ignited red of your own suit. You were the perfect epitome of a political family.

Eleanor Bishop had given you a brief nod of the head, signifying your presence. It was a silent warning told through blackened eyes: Behave.

Her diligent attention was enough to split your family up. You preferred to linger away from the stuffy socialites. Bobbi and Lance were required to mingle. You plucked a flute of bubbling champagne from a passing tray and moved towards one of the elegant support beams decorated with what you now learned, was real foliage.

The floral scent tickled the back of your throat, so you took a generous swallow and let the alcohol warm your stomach diligently. There had to be something interesting around here, away from the rest of the party. A plague or two that would further explain the venue.

A burst of forced laughter greeted your parents as they sidled up next to Jack and Eleanor. Lance had produced some campaign buttons, which the group took without hesitation. You had to admit, he was loveable and politician-worthy.

“Look at us, we match.”

You swallowed back a groan, not bothering to look over. A small noise still escaped you, and the grumble conveyed your exact disposition towards Kate Bishop. Disgust. Annoyance. The slightest bit of attraction. She overwhelmed your senses with her crisp, winter scent.

Eventually, curiosity got the better of you and you glanced over at her. She was in red too, incredibly vibrant against her soft expanses of exposed skin. The dress had a dipping neckline, revealing the freckles that created constellations against her collarbone. She beamed with irritation. You’d never admit that she was captivating.

“I thought you were given explicit instructions to leave me be.” You said between gritted teeth.

She hummed and grasped the drink from your hand. Kate was calculated in her movements, wrapping her lips around the smudge of lipstick that you’d already created on the rim of the glass. She didn’t break eye contact, those slate orbs boring into you.

“We both know you’re the most interesting thing at these parties.”

“I’m not falling for your… charms, Kate Bishop. Your mother may have bought you out of our consequences last time. But, I have more at stake.”

She scoffed and set the now empty glass down on the nearest table. You knew damn well that Kate wasn’t absolved of accountability after your run-in a few months back. She held herself differently now, and it was a minute expression of her posture that caught your attention.

There was a small split at the corner of her lip, and a healing bruise just at her hairline. She’d attempted to use makeup to cover the abrasions, but you had a trained eye. You were your mother’s daughter. These were defensive wounds. And for just a moment, you worried that the Bishop’s had a heavier hand than you’d anticipated.

But then, Kate’s muscles flexed and her head lilted to the side, dark curls splaying over her shoulders. She had grown stronger. It wasn’t noticeable, or at least, it shouldn’t’ have been. But you knew every inch of her body and despite your forced separation, she’d grown steady of herself.

“Why should I be punished, when you’re the one who set the curtains ablaze.”

You leaned close enough to feel her body heat. To her credit, she didn’t step back. A ghost of a smirk was on her lips. You snarled your words. “And who’s fault was that?”

“I don’t see how I was supposed to know you’d get trigger happy with your powers when I went down on you.” She gave you a cocky pout. “Is that a new thing, or have you never been able to handle yourself in moments of pleasure?”

You couldn’t stop yourself from grasping at the strap on her dress, pulling her closer to you out of a burst of anger. The phantom look of confidence spread into a full-blown grin. You were exasperated, the familiar heat burning just under your skin.

It was true, you’d lost control for just a moment, with Kate Bishops head between your legs, one hand buried deep in her mess of tangled hair. As an orgasm washed over you, thighs shaking, your other hand had drifted too close to the drapes and had caught them ablaze.

Despite the both of you being adults, you were separated within an instant. Dragged embarrassingly away by your respective parental units after the fire was put out. The last you’d seen of her was reflected with the flashing red lights of a rumbling fire engine.

Kate had a devilish look in her eyes. “Harder, baby.”

“Ladies,”

It was a resolute sound that had you pulling apart as if she was a toxic entity. In your book, she was. Both hands landed in your pockets and the two of you looked sheepishly at Eleanor. She’d been keeping an eye on you, you were sure. And had made a direct line to you the second Kate had given you that salacious look.

“Good evening, Mrs. Bishop. It’s a pleasure to see you.”

Kate coughed out something that sounded like ‘Kiss ass’ and covered it up with a doe-eyed look of innocence. She may not have been afraid of her mother, but you were terrified. Bobbi had a soft hand. It commanded you like a weapon, and you were happy to do what you were told.

Your own punishment had consisted of heavier training. Both mentally and physically to perfect control that you’d had mastered years ago when you were nothing but a girl with streaks of tears dripping from your chin. The fire had been too strong then, overwhelming and horrible.

“Good evening, Miss Morse, I trust you’ve found a way to entertain yourself during the benefit that isn’t antagonizing my daughter.” Before you could answer, she turned her attention to Kate. “And you. I specifically allowed you to bring a guest in attempts to keep you away from Bobbi’s little arsonist.”

She had been under the full impression that you’d taken a zippo to the hanging drapes. It was the white-hot flames that leaked from your own fingers that had done the damage. Kate was thankfully tight-lipped about the fact, and you let the socialite think whatever she wanted. She hadn’t pressed charges.

Kate pulled her shoulders back, almost looking offended at the name you were tagged with. Almost. “Clint got stopped at the front for an autograph, mom. I’m just biding my time.”

“Bide it somewhere else. We’ve talked about this.”

Eleanor gave you a tight-lipped smile that had noticeably softened compared to the venomous expression she held for Kate. A light squeeze was delivered to your arm. It had always scared you how quick she could switch like that. Her shoulders pulled back as she wandered back over to her group.

Lance lifted his chin in your direction. Silently asking if everything was okay, and it was. His quiet reassurance brought the heat licking at your stomach to a bubbling halt. Why you cared more about Eleanors disposition towards Kate, then her acidity directed at you, was beyond something you were willing to confront.

“Who’s Clint?”

“Why? Jealous?”

“Can we have a normal conversation, please. Is it so shocking that I’d take interest in your friends?”

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Yes. If you must know, he’s not a friend. He’s a mentor. He’s, my partner.”

Both of your eyebrows lifted. Partner in what? It wasn’t something you would audibly voice, save you show any concern past the normal amount that you usually had for Kate. The tautness of her muscles, and the superficial injuries made that discomfort return to the pit of your stomach.

Kate was an archer. You knew such from the trophies that littered her dresser the one time you’d been privy to her room. Truth be told, you hadn’t paid much attention. You were backed against her door and her teeth were scraping against your pulse point. But the little gold figures and the child-sized bow on the wall was enough to of a giveaway.

You only knew one archer, and you knew him distantly; from photos that your mother had blacked out with a sharpie. She’d later told you that she regretted the fact because the memories of the three of you would always remain.

The taste of bile filled your throat and Kate lilted her head to the side, like a golden retriever that had heard a piercing noise. There was a surprising amount of concern in her voice. “You okay? You’re looking a little green.”

“Hm? Yeah. Totally. The champagne is just sitting weird.”

A frown had found its way onto your face, and you directed your attention back to the crowd. It seemed that Eleanor was satisfied enough with the two of you lingering in silence. You were trained to know where the exits were in any venue. Kate’s stare shockingly darted in the same pattern as your own.

People had trickled in until the floor was bustling with conversation. You let your shoulders relax in the slightest bit, swallowing back the acrid taste in your mouth. Eleanor had lost her viewpoint of you and her daughter, and you weren’t much in the mood for fighting her on pure proximity.

“There you are, god, I didn’t know this many people cared about birds.”

This time, you couldn’t stop your narrowed eyes from flashing to the intrusion. Whatever distracted Kate was enough to be deemed a savior in your book. But the voice was familiar, painfully so. It was as if your body reacted by busting out in goosebumps, chills rushing down your spine.

Now, you wanted your mother to be able to see you. You were a strong, and capable adult that knew at least six different ways to kill a person without a weapon. You’d gone on missions with your mother, with your Aunt Daisy, too. A simple man in a simpler suit should not make your knees weak.

Yet- here he was. In a charcoal black ensemble with a pocket square that was a flash of purple. It was a color you’d grown to despise. It was an eyesore, as was the man that stood at a height taller than Kate, but just a few inches.

You’d found a singular picture of him that wasn’t defaced in your mother’s nightstand. A polaroid of the three of you on the beach. The sun had turned your cheeks a flushed pink. He had you in his arms and beamed at the camera. Eyes matching the blue of the ocean.

They were the same now, the same vibrancy that you’d thought about. He looked other, worn from parenthood and the effects of time. Of course, you’d seen him on television, but Bobbi had always been quick to flick it off, only lingering during the Sokovia accords.

His mouth fell open in disbelief, but you were careful to keep your jaw stock still. You weren’t going to give Clint Barton the satisfaction of rattling you. Not here, not if he ever decided to show up when you had a family of your own. Not on your deathbed. He couldn’t invoke that from you.

Kate had learned to pick up on body language, and she had learned fast. Her stare shifted between both you, and Clint. She had the right amount of perception to keep her mouth shut, even taking half an inch step back. She was in a position to hold the two of you apart, if need be.

“Holy shit,” He breathed out, “Sparky.”

“Don’t call me Sparky.”

You were taken aback by your own ability to produce words. They were pinched and had dropped down an octave to true anger. Not the type that Kate Bishop was used to. Sure, you had aggravation directed towards her, but nothing short of teasing.

Clint took a slight step towards you, and you took a large one back, nearly bumping into the support beam wrapped with vines and vibrant flowers. Your hand reached out to grab onto it for support, but Kate’s fingers wrapped gently around your wrist. Right. Yes. That would be the safe bet.

You needed to find Bobbi.

Chances were, Clint hadn’t seen her with the growing attendance. You could slip out through the large storm doors that were a few feet behind you. At least then, you could burn scorch marks into the grass and not into this historical building.

“What is happening?” Kate said, refusing to remove her hand from your wrist. You didn’t wrench it away, either. It was a force, a grounding factor. You refused to let the fire move past your fingertips in fear that it would burn her. “Clint?”

“She uh… She’s…”

The words died in his throat. You couldn’t’ stand looking at him, pale as ice and wringing his hands nervously. He couldn’t hold still, but you were like a stone. Almost as if he would vanish the second you averted your stare.

“I’m his daughter.”

Kate’s hand did move from your wrist and to your hand, almost out of instinct. Your relationship, or lack-there-of, had never required this kind of closeness. But She was hanging on tightly, nails digging into your skin. The slight sting brought you back.

Clint croaked “How’s your mother?”

Kate winced and you felt the spring in your spine loosen. He was more nervous than you were and that gave you an advantage. “You can ask her yourself. She and Lance are mingling.”

“Lance is here?”

“Of course.”

He was running for congressman. It would damage his campaign if he hadn’t shown up. The gossip blogs that followed the lives of New Yorks Elite had picked up on the rift between you and Kate. There were a few grainy photos of the two of you standing shoulder to shoulder, wrapped in foil blankets that made you look like Baked potatoes. There was soot on her chin, and you had wiped the darkness away with your thumb. Of course, that had been the moment they caught and wrote about, and plastered all over the internet.

Clint worked his jaw and cupped the back of his neck with a tepid smile. It wavered incessantly. He was boyish in his charm and that would always be the case, no matter how old he got. You knew he had a family now. A real family that didn’t’ consist of a secret agent and their match-happy daughter.

You gave Kate a squeeze with your free hand, signaling that you were fine. The last thing you wanted to appear was weak. She seemed to get the message loud and clear, wrenching her touch away with a nervous clearing of her throat.

“I’m sorry… Can we back up for a second?”  

Clint had a dejected look in his eyes that almost made you feel a twinge of guilt. Almost. Your own ego often got in the way of things, and this was one of them. There was a flood of emotions between both of the archers, a silent pleading to hear him out.

“You and Mrs. Morse dated?”

“They were married.” You snatched another glass of campaign, this one all for yourself. You swallowed the acrid drink and let the bubbles assault your throat. “When did the divorce finalize, again?

“Y/n”

“No, I was never really privy to the details myself.”

“We shouldn’t do this here.”

You finished off the rest of the drink, a certain amount of your defenses lower. You felt warm, but not warm enough to do something stupid. He was right. You shouldn’t do this here and if you had your way, you wouldn’t’ do it anywhere. You were perfectly content to let this man slip back into oblivion and train the Bishop heiress that you had a habit of bedding.

Clint seemed to let out a sigh of relief when you nodded in agreement. He scrutinized you both, the rush of initial shock ebbing away like a melting lake. Chunks of ice broke off and gave way to the familiarity and closeness the two of you held. It was relaxed, despite the rivalry that landed you here in the first place.

“No,” he drawled out, “No, no, no. Kate, you didn’t’.”

The tips of her ears were red enough to match your suit and the color that painted her own lips. She hid her face in her hands with a groan. But you wrapped your arm around her waist and pulled her against your side.

“Does that bother you, old man?”

It clearly did. Kate leveled you with a delicious glare that was unmatched but didn’t’ move from your hold. Was she letting you have this? You weren’t entirely sure. He was whipping his head back and fourth with enough force to break his own neck. It was making you dizzy, but giddy all the same.

Your moment of joy at his dismay was short lived. You caught the sharp scent of your mothers perfume. She’d cut through the crowd and furrowed her brow at your closeness to Kate. It took her a few moments to realize that Clint was here. To realize that he was the man that had spurred your act of rebellion in doing the exact opposite of what she’d requested at the start of the night.

Her cool eyes took him in just as yours had. Kate was still next to you, swallowing a dryness in her throat that you could nearly hear. Bobbi didn’t attempt to separate you as Eleanor had. Instead, she gave you a quiet stare. “Darling, I think it’s time we go. There’s a situation we have to attend to.”

“Of course. It’s been a pleasure.”

It hadn’t been, but you shocked yourself and Kate by leaning in and pressing a kiss just behind her ear, still blazing with blush. She froze but gave you the slightest bit of nod. Clint opened and closed his mouth like a surfaced fish, but kept quiet.

Your mother walked with a purpose, her shoulders pulled back and an elegance to her sway. You didn’t look back, keeping time with her as she weaved through the crowd and towards the lobby that was ten degrees cooler and much, much more welcoming.

“Is there actually a situation, or is this your attempt at a rescue?”

She ignored your question, stopping and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with a soft look in her eyes that made your stomach squirm. “Are you okay, sweetie? I had no idea that he’d be here. I never would have made you come.”

“I’m fine, mom.” She didn’t seem convinced, so you added “Really.”

Eventually, Bobbi relented with a shaky sigh and cupped your cheek in a comforting manner. “Good. Okay. Good. Because we do have a situation.”

[captainsophiestark]

Recruit

Grant Ward x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2024!

Fandom: Marvel

Day Six Prompt: "I'm not giving up."

Summary: Grant and his mostly ex girlfriend have a long history together. She's spent months trying to live two lives, one staying in touch with him post-Hydra and the other as a member of the original SHIELD team. Now, SHIELD's on the path to kill Grant once and for all, and she's gonna have to make a choice.

Word Count: 2,521

Category: Angst, Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I sighed, trying hard not to roll my eyes as I stared straight ahead. A little over twenty minutes ago, some Hydra higher-up had come in to bark orders telling us to keep our backs against the pillars and not flinch. This was the next in a line of ridiculous recruitment tests, but for me, it would hopefully be the last.

The sound of tires screeching on the concrete floor on the other side of this massive, abandoned warehouse told me I might just get lucky.

Barely a moment later, I saw a bright red car darting between the pillars not too far from me. Every single recruit stayed stock still, not even their eyes tracking the car's progress. I was the exception. I couldn't help but follow the car as it sped between pillars, trying to get a glimpse of the man I was looking for.

The car took a corner a few rows away from me, and I finally got a clear look. Some former Hydra exec was holding onto the hood for dear life, screaming his head off. A big, burly Hydra enforcer I'd seen a handful of times before sat in the passenger seat. And the man of the hour, leading a coup within Hydra, drove confidently even in the narrow space.

Grant Ward.

As soon as the car was out of sight, I took a deep breath. Weeks of undercover work had led to this moment, finally. Grant had always been hard to find if he didn't want to be found, but since Daniel Whitehall's death and the downfall of the old Hydra, he'd had no choice but to open himself up to more risk of discovery. Hard to build an organization if you won't talk to anybody or list an address.

The car took a tight corner much closer to me than before, and I could see Grant talking to the guy in his passenger seat. They disappeared from my view again, and I tried to track their movement by sound only. Still, when he came flying around the pillar I had my back to, it surprised me. I didn't look down, but I could've sworn Grant came within a few inches of running over my foot. I couldn't completely hold back a flinch.

The red car came to a screeching halt. I glanced down without moving my head and found tire skid marks on the concrete. The guy on the hood had gone flying, but Grant hadn't moved. Finally, after a few long moments, he shut of the engine and stepped out of the car.

The enforcer in the passenger seat stayed where he was as Grant started heading in my direction. I returned to staring straight ahead, back straight against the concrete pillar. This time I didn't flinch, not even to glance at him when he stopped so close to me that my arm was brushing his chest. I glanced over at him, meeting his eyes briefly, then snapped back to staring straight ahead.

"You flinched," he said simply, his voice low. Still, I had no doubt it was echoing through the entire room. I didn't look at him as I replyed.

"...You got pretty close to me on that turn."

"Absolute faith is required from recruits," he snapped, almost before I'd finished speaking. I bit my tongue to keep my mouth from twitching into a smile, then replied.

"Yes sir."

I heard Grant huff through his nose, and in any other situation, I'm sure he would've been rolling his eyes. Years and years of SHIELD training were the only things keeping me from cracking a smile. The rest of the warehouse was deadly silent, as if the other recruits were holding their breaths. Grant didn't bother to address them as he grabbed my bicep tightly and tugged me away from the pillar.

"Kebo," he barked to the guy still sitting in the car. "Handle the rest of this for me."

"Yes sir."

Grant set a brisk pace through the pillars of recruits, his grip never loosening on my arm. I actually struggled a little to keep up with him, and every Hydra recruit we passed seemed a more unsettled than they'd been with Grant driving between them at Mach 10.

Before long, I realized we were heading for the elevators at the back of the warehouse. Grant pulled me inside with him, punching a button and then staring straight ahead, his grip like iron on my arm, as the doors slid closed on the warehouse floor. We started moving down, and I realized this must've been one of the last levels of Hydra recruiting, since they seemed to have a whole base set up here.

I let the silence hang in the elevator for about two seconds, then I took a breath to speak. Before I could get a word out, though, Grant cut me off with a squeeze of my arm. I knew him well enough to know that meant not here.

The doors to the elevator slid closed at last, and Grant pulled me along with him, through a deserted hallway lined with doors. Each door had a keypad on it, and honestly, the setup rivaled some of the things I'd seen at SHIELD bases.

Finally, Grant stopped outside a door at the very end of the hallway. With his free hand, he swiped a keycard and opened it, then pulled me in after him. He turned to shut the door, giving me a shove further into the room at the same time.

I caught my balance and came to a stop in the middle of a living room. Apparently, we'd ended up in the master suite for the brand new head of Hydra.

"How the hell did you get here?"

I turned around to find Grant standing a few steps in front of me, his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face. I put a hand on my hip and raised an eyebrow.

"You posted a pretty broad open-call for new recruits. Believe it or not, I've got the skills to impress a base-level Hydra recruiter."

Grant huffed and rolled his eyes, an incredibly familiar reaction. Since I'd met him at the Academy, Grant had been giving me that look.

"So you spent the past three weeks going through the trials with the rest of my innagural class of Hydra recruits? Why?"

"Because you've been ridiculously hard to find lately. And you haven't been answering my calls."

"I thought you were getting tired of the double-life. Checking in with me and then going about your day with the old team like nothing ever happened. I thought you'd be relieved."

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes.

"You going radio silent on me is not a relief, Grant. Especially now."

"Why especially now?"

I sighed, crossing my arms and taking a second to look away from Grant. So far, I could more or less pass this all off to Coulson and the rest of our team as an attempt to get inside info on Hydra. It might raise a few eyebrows, but nothing I couldn't talk my way out of. If I kept going from here, I might not be able to go back.

I'd spent three weeks literally fighting my way here, through a sea of other Hydra recruits and a bunch of bullshit challenges. Honestly, I'd been walking the line for too long now. Grant and I had been through everything together since our Academy days, when we were barely adults playing at superspies. I'd loved him for a long, long time, and I couldn't just hover between him and my friends anymore hoping for the best.

I looked back at Grant. He stared me down, waiting patiently for whatever I was about to say. I'd tried a few times before now to get him to come back to me, and so far, I hadn't been successful. He'd done some truly terrible things, but all the same, I knew I just couldn't let him go.

"The rest of the SHIELD team's about to come at you a lot harder than before. They smell blood in the water with Hydra, and after what you did to Bobbi..."

Grant's jaw clenched, and I took a deep breath.

"That sucked, obviously, but... it's part of why I'm here. I've never seen the team so bloodthirsty, Grant. And I can't just stand in the room and do nothing while they're planning ways to take you out."

"Why don't you say something while you're in the room, then?"

"Don't you think I've tried?" I took a deep breath, fighting to keep my emotions in check. The team didn't know how much contact I still had with Grant, but they did know how I felt about him. They knew our history. But this time, it didn't matter. "Nobody's hearing it. They've held back from a kill shot for my sake before, but this time they won't, Grant. Nobody in there cares who or what you are or were to me. They're coming after you to end this, once and for all."

When I met Grant's eyes again, he actually looked surprised. I was fighting back a few tears, especially at the memory of the fight I'd had with Coulson about the fate of the man before me, and he looked shocked that I cared.

"Sweetheart..." he sighed, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head. I saw the wall go up on his face, trying to block out me and any feelings he had that might force him to an epiphany. I frowned. "I am not a good man. Coulson, Fitz, the rest of our team... whatever they're saying about me, they're right. What's it going to take to get that through your head?"

"What's it going to take to get it through your head that I won't buy it!" I cried, moving forward until Grant and I were chest to chest. He didn't back down an inch, and neither did I. "These past three weeks, I've done the stupidest shit in my career since the hazingin my first year at the Academy. I've spent months lying to my closest friends for the sake of staying in touch with you, and dammit Grant, it was not so I could stand here and have you tell me you're not worth it! You're wrong, you are! We've spent more than a decade of our lives together, hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder, or back to back through literal hell. I know you've had opportunities to take me out the way you've tried to take out other members of my team, but you've never taken them. And frankly Grant... I don't care what you've done. Maybe that makes me a bad person, but I love you! I'm not willing to lose you. I'm not giving up."

"So how exactly do you see this going, then?" he asked, his voice grim and quiet, especially contrasted with mine. "What do you think happens next, huh? You think you bring me back to SHIELD? You did it, you saved me, and now the team welcomes me back with open arms?"

"Of course not!"

"Then what? What are you expecting? You want to join Hydra? I find that very hard to believe-"

"No! I want to run! You and me, getting the fuck out of here! Grant, I'm sick of spending my days hunting somebody I love. I'm sick of worrying every day that one of my closest friends is going to find him and kill him, despite knowing how I feel about him. Honestly Grant, I'm done with it! Let's just get out of here! You and I both know we're good enough to completely disappear if we want to. Hell, if you hadn't been actively recruiting, I don't know if I would've been able to find you!"

"...You can't be serious."

"And why the hell not?"

"Come on. You're seriously willing to abandon SHIELD for me? To become fugitives for the rest of our lives?"

I reached out and took Grant's hands, pulling them around my waist until he got the hint. He held me tight on his own as I put my hands on his shoulders and stared straight into his eyes when I answered.

"Yes. Absolutely yes. Look, if I'd been willing to join Hydra, I would've done it a long time ago. But I'm also not willing to be a part of the team that kills you. I can't stay with SHIELD and get what I want. So, honestly, what better time for the both of us to get the hell out? We were going to need an exit strategy eventually, right?"

Grant huffed a laugh, and even though he shook his head, his expression told me he was on the brink of giving in.

"The exit strategy we used to talk about included a nice retirement plan."

"Grant. We're spies. The peaceful retirement package was never anything more than a pipe dream."

The coner of his mouth pulled up in a smile, and I grinned right back at him. His arms tightened around my waist, pulling me into him, and I let my hands roam across his shoulders and the back of his neck.

"You're sure you want to do this? If you run away with me, you'll probably never be able to go back to the rest of the team."

"If this stupid revenge cycle goes any further, I'm not going to be able to go back to them anyway. Besides, I've put in my time. I think I've earned my retirement. I was thinking... somewhere tropical?"

Grant finally broke, the last of his resolve giving way as the small smile turned into a grin. He pulled me tightly against his chest and leaned in to kiss me, and damn if it didn't feel good. I'd missed being with him like this, the two of us on the same side, happy, and with a plan in place ahead of us. I deepened the kiss, and Grant got the message immediately.

His hand moved up on my waist to just barely slip under my shirt, but then he pulled back. I frowned, worried he'd started second-guessing our plan, but he quickly set me straight.

"If we're doing this, we need to go. Now. Kebo won't stay busy upstairs forever, and he'll start to wonder where I disappeared to. As much as I want to keep this going... I also don't want him interrupting us."

"You know, I have to agree. Besides, we'll have plenty of time for everything we want to do once we're out of here."

"Yeah. Yeah, we will."

Grant and I shared a smile, then I helped him make quick work of packing up the handful of things we might need. We slipped out of the place less than ten minutes later, both officially disappearing from our old lives without a trace. SHIELD and Hydra could fight it out without us. Finally, I had Grant back, and we were going to build our own happy ending. Together.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

Marvel Taglist: @valkyriepirate @infinetlyforgotten @sagesmelts @gaychaosgremlin

[siriustaylorsversion]

you ever like a character and get jealous of any potential love interest for them, but then start loving their partner more?

[itsanerdlife]

Wicked Intentions 9

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader // (Seriously close) Steve Rogers x Reader // Clint Barton x Reader // T’Challa x Reader.

Warning: Violence. Language. Bullying. Girl Fights. Name Calling. Degrading Comments. Angst. Degrade of Woman (to a point). Criminal Life. Illegal Shit. Fights. Alpha Males. Stalking.

Characters: Peter Stark. Howie Stark. Bucky Barnes. Steve Rogers. Clint Barton. TC (T’Challa). Ben Reilly. Cledus Kasady (CK). Brock Rumlow. Gwen Stacy. Wanda Maximoff. Becca Barnes. Amore Lorelei. Kitty Pryde. Frank Castle. George Barnes. Joe Rogers. Winni Barnes. Pepper Stark. Wade Wilson. Eddie Brock. Warner Strucker. Barney Barton. Bobbi Morse. Pietro Maximoff. Logan.

A/N: This is a Bully Romance. High School setting. Mafia Family Life. Woman are on a lower level than males in their world. Just a heads up. This is the third installment of the series. Bad Intentions, Cruel Intentions, and Wicked Intentions.

Credit: Huge shout out to @ml7010 for all the help, pushing, hyping up, putting up with my changes midway through. If it wasn't for this peach, y'all never would have gotten this series or nearly as far as I am now.

He sits, glaring.

Pietro is twirling his fiancée around the dance floor. The two of them laughing close together.

“Don’t do it.” Peter chuckles sitting down next to him.

“Give me one good reason.” He cuts his glare to his soon to be brother-in-law.

Peter sighs. “Pietro is a big cat in the game. You don’t need that smoke. We don’t need it with all we have going on with our sisters.”

Bucky cuts his eyes towards the two.

“Not enough of a reason.” Bucky shrugs, standing up.

“Oh. Oh!” Peter jumps up with him. Hurrying after him.

He closes in on the two. Pietro stops dancing, hand on the small of Y/N’s back, she looks almost smug. Pietro cuts his eyes between the two of them.

“Oh!” Peter cuts between Bucky and Pietro. “Hey now.” Peter pats him on the chest, a little out of breath.

“Problem?” Pietro asks in his stupid Russian accent.

Peter cuts him off before he can speak. “Buck here, was just hoping to get a moment of your time, have a small conversation.” Peter fast talks.

Y/N rolls her eyes. He glares at her.

“Of course.” Pietro removes his hand from Y/N stepping away. Peter stays between them till Pietro is a few steps away.

“Problem?” Y/N sasses him, folding her arms over her chest.

He chuckles. “You’re next.” Following Pietro.

Peter sighs, dropping his head back. “Come on, you can’t just not do this to me?”

“You act like I don’t know how Gwen got pregnant.” Y/N laughs, hearing her heels walking away.

“It’s different you’re my baby sister!” Peter calls after her, before hurrying after him. Once they’re through the side doors to the sitting room, something like a lobby or waiting room, off the ballroom the reception is being held in.

He unbuttons his suit jacket, pulling it off, he tosses it at Steve. Pietro meets the center of the room, turning to face him. Bucky’s fist follows through, decking Pietro in the jaw.

“Really?!” Peter huffs behind him. Bucky shakes his hand out, adjusting his button-down sleeves.

“He had his hands on my fiancée.” He glances at Peter.

Pietro rubs his jaw, opening and closing his mouth for a moment, working his jaw. “Hella, swing you got there Barnes.” He nods.

“Can you imagine what their kids will get?” Clint’s brows jump up.

Steve and Peter stop, staring into space.

“Oh fuck.” Steve whispers.

“People are going to die.” Peter breathes.

The door opens and Howie steps in, late to the party.

“What did I miss?” He looks around.

“We’re having nightmares about the swing our nieces or nephews will get between their parents.” Steve catches him up.

Howie stops in his tracks thinking about that. “Oh fuck.” He spoke softly.

“Apparently people are going to die.” Bucky rolls his eyes.

Howie shrugs, joining the others on the side. “Smalls, right hook, your follow through, yeah they might actually kill someone.”

“Barneys going to love your family.” Clint chuckles softly.

“He already does.” Peter, Howie and Bucky comment together.

“So, you’re the one.” Pietro smirks, turning their attention to him.

“Marrying the woman you just had your hands on? You’re fucking right.” Bucky replies with irritation.

“Oh shit, I missed a lot.” Howie mumbles.

Pietro chuckles softly for a moment. “I meant the one Satan will be tormenting to death for life.”

Bucky’s head tips. The guys next to them all slowly nod in agreement.

“Does she still run around beating people up?” Pietro wonders.

“She starts before nine in the morning some days.” Clint sighs.

Pietro chuckles.

“How do you know that?” Bucky asks.

“She has been my twin sisters’ best friend since they were little.” He explains. Bucky looks from Pietro to the twins.

“Don’t worry they barely know me.” Pietro sighs. “Wanda has been kept from the business, unlike your Satan.” He waves his hand to the side.

“Wanda is a wife?” The three of them gap at him for a moment.

Pietro chuckles. “Shocking, yes. For best in our line of business.”

“What line?” Steve wonders.

“Drugs.”

“How is she married to Sam?” Clint’s brow drops down.

“That was a conversation I was hoping to have with some Stark’s.” Pietro looks to her brothers.

“We work for Smalls.” Peter shrugs.

“And she’s going to be a Barnes.” Bucky corrects.

Pietro nods slowly. “Perhaps we can talk?”

Buck looks from him to the guys. They nod.

“Fine.”

Together they all take a seat settling in.

“Wilson was not the first pick for my sister.” Pietro starts. “Someone else showed interest and pushed hard for her.”

“Who?” Peter asks.

“Someone you boys know and dislike. Eddie Brock.”

Its silent for a moment.

“Eddie put a bid in on Wanda?” Steve leans forward.

Pietro nods.

“How does Eddie know your sister?” Clint wonders.

“Maximoff’s run drugs, Eddie is a seller.” Howie explains for them.

“Oh shit.” Steve whispers.

“Wait, wait.” Buck puts his hands up. “The story, from when your sister and I started out. You messed up a deal for a pipeline, for Eddie. That got Gwen’s dad killed, and you guys sent to reform.”

“See Eddie wants to be a big cat.” Peter sighs. “He needs a line, to funnel more drugs, to be a top supplier to smaller dealers. He gets from the Maximoff’s and wants to hold over the smaller timers.”

“He needs a line to do that. That connects him to smaller dealers, in other areas.” Steve nods slowly.

“To make good without the line, he would have to marry your sister.” Clint connects.

“I denied his bid.” Pietro nods. “I picked Wilson, because of his tie to The Brothers.”

The three of them look to the twins.

“You know Sam from before?” He asks.

They nod. “We do business with Sam’s father, and now Sam.”

“Now Sam? He’s already taken over?” Clint wonders.

Howie nods. “His father passed just after his promising to Wanda.”

“Shit.” Bucky breathes, unable to imagine.

“We had no idea.” Steve shakes his head.

“Not many know.” Peter assures them. “He doesn’t talk about it. That’s just how his father was. We do shipments with the Wilson's.”

“Shipments?” Bucky wonders.

“Heavy weapons.” Howie replies.

“Is there anything the Stark’s aren’t involved in?” Steve smirks.

“Weapons, drugs, underground fights, laundering, money, the table.” Clint grins.

“Been busy boys?” Pietro smirks.

“Smalls created her own mafia.” Peter grins. “We got into bed with The Saintz. Opened a lot of channels.”

“Perhaps there’s room for another?” Pietro glances around.

The four look over at him. He takes a breath, nodding slowly. “Touch my fiancée again, and your body will be in a shipment back to homeland.” He settles a look on Pietro.

Pietro grins at him. “No wonder she picked you. You two will make a ruthless couple.”

“Make? They already are one.” Peter sighs.

“Literally.” Steve shakes his head.

Bucky smirks, shrugging. “We’re not that bad.”

“We’ve seen our baby sister lick you, over a girl watching you.” Howie points out.

“I broke John Walkers arm for touching her for you.” Clint comments.

“You killed CK, for trying to take her.” Steve snorts.

“She smashed up Sina for touching you.” Peter nods slowly.

Bucky grins as they stand up, licking his lips he chuckles. “And you wonder why I won her in the bid?”

“Like anyone else had a chance.” Clint laughs.

“We would have burned the town down if she didn’t get her way.” Howie sighs.

“It worked out for more than her though, you’re marrying his sister are you not?” Pietro looks to Howie as they head for the doors.

“Yeah of course, we just, we were talking about them.” He splutters.

“Howard.” Bucky pauses, but Howie is out the door hurrying away from them.

“Did I say something?” Pietro wonders.

Peter sighs. “No, he’s going through something.” Hurrying after his brother.

“Another promise broken.” Y/N sasses as she walks past them.

The four of them exchange a look, three laugh.

“Excuse me boys, I have Chaos to wrangle.” He takes his suit jacket from Steve, heading for his fiancée.

“Oh no you don’t.” He chuckles, catching up to her, he grabs her waist, shifting her and tossing her over his shoulder.

“Boss man!” She gasps.

“You’re going to yell at me and I’m going to kiss you till you shut up.” He chuckles, walking out the of the reception with her over his shoulder. He passes Tony and his father, together they laugh.

“No take backs. She’s yours.” Tony calls after him.

“Hey!” She huffs loudly. He laughs harder, heading into the hotel hall.

---------- Everything Peaches 12/8/22 @mo320 @ml7010 @babizza @kmc1989 @joannie95 @coley0823 @rileyloves5 @sexyvixen7 @duckestylez @abschaffer2 @drayshadow @shirukitsune @xoxabs88xox @carostar2020 @rosalynshields @hookslove1592 @royal-sunflower @iwillbeinmynest @bellamy-barnes @geeksareunique @happydeanpotter @fanfic-n-tabulous @steel-blue-eyess @mariekoukie6661 @bless-my-demons @notyourtypicalrose @lets-talk-about-xyz @loving-life-my-way @shinycupcakebaker @also-fangirlinsweden @stupendous-science @daughterofthenight117 @dandelionsmarkthegrave @physically-a-cheesecake @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked

Bucky 'Fuck Me Up' Barnes: @nickyl316h @jbbarnesgirl @lets-roggerthat @this-is-mycrisis @kaylaphantomhive

Series tags: @sebastians-love @otterlycanadian

[soulofapatrick]

Birthday Surprises - Pedro Pascal x Reader

Summary: Oscar gives you the task to distract Pedro so they can break into his  apartment and set it up for a surprise birthday party - both you and Pedro get more than you planned for

Words: 2.4K

Warnings: none I think

Notes HAPPY BIRTHDYA TO THE BEAUTIFUL AND HUMBLE MAN THAT IS PEDRO FUCKING PASCAL

--------

Y/N’s POV

My heart pounds in my chest as I knock on Pedro’s door, Oscar having given me his address with one specific detail: get Pedro out of the house by 1pm and keep him out until 6pm. It’s his birthday and we want to surprise him with a small gathering, knowing he’s been stressed recently with The Mandalorian and The Last of Us press tours and the fans wanting to know his every move. 

Before I can have any doubts about this the door swings open and a very sleepy Pedro appears. He looks fucking amazing in just his shorts and a loose lakers tee shirt, fluffy hair standing up in all different directions as if he’s just run his hands through it. He seems to light up when he sees me, the frown slipping from his soft features as he ushered me in. The door shutting with a soft click and he’s herding me to the kitchen where I see a massive stack of pancakes ready to slide off the plate. 

“Happy Birthday Pepsi,” I laugh softly, turning to face him and pull him into a hug. I’m not much of a hugger but Pedro… I will never say no to a Pedro hug. His chest rumbles with laughter as he wraps his strong arms around my shoulders and rocks us on the spot as he presses a smiled kiss to my temple. I don’t know how long we stand there but we only separate when Pedro suddenly lets me go with a cry of ‘save the pancakes’ and I’m just watching him race around the island and steady the pile with one fatality. 

He’s laughing and pointing towards a cupboard for me to get another plate, “Come on sweetheart, we’ll share the birthday pancakes. I made too many for myself anyway!” 

“Alright but I have an afternoon planned for us and you can’t say no.” I shoot back, grabbing another plate and helping Pedro dish out the pancakes before both plates get placed on the island. He buzzed around the kitchen, grabbing all sorts of things like whipped cream; sugar; lemon juice and syrup before joining me, “That’s a lot of sugar.” 

“It’s my birthday.” He grins around a mouthful of pancake and whipped cream, bright and bubbly like a child. I can’t keep the fond smile off my lips, shaking my head fondly at him as he giggles. Fuck me he’s so cute and I wish this was everyday life for me, getting to wake up and have breakfast everyday with him and be able to kiss the bit of whipped cream from the corner of his mouth but this isn’t my life. I’m just here to help a few friends out and before I can stop myself I’m swiping the cream from his lips, going to wipe it on my jeans when those very same lips wrap around my thumb and his tongue darts over the pad of it before he’s pulling back with a ‘pop’ and a cheeky grin, “I’ll go get dressed.” 

*

Despite being spring the breeze was still cold and harsh, rustling hair and tugging at our coats that are tightly wrapped around ourselves. Pedro is telling me how last year he had a quiet birthday with his family who came to visit him and he made them a traditional chilean meal, it was apparently his mother’s favourite meal. My hand found his when he told me that, the sadness in his voice evident despite how hard he’s trying to hide it, gently squeezing his large hand comfortingly and getting that softest smile in return. 

I had definitely had reservations about becoming an actress when I had seen how pompous and self-centred they could be, scared I would end up just like them but I quickly found my group of people who I couldn’t live without. I met Pedro through Oscar Isaac after being an extra in Star Wars, not sure why Oscar decided to become my friend but here we are now years later. I owe a lot to Oscar as he got me my role as Bobbi Morse aka Mockingbird in Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D and it was my breakout role really. I wouldn’t be where I am right now, having worked with major stars I could only have dreamt working for, and currently walking along side the most humble and warmhearted celeb I have ever met. 

Pedro is currently eyeing up a cafe across the street from us, eyes flicking between the cafe and me with his bottom lip jutted out in a pout and his honey eyes all wide and innocent as he flutters his eyelashes at me. A simple look would have gotten me to say yes but what he’s doing in making me weak at the knees so I just fake sigh and pull him towards the cafe, hearing the triumphant sound he lets out. 

The coffee shop is a cozy haven tucked away on a quiet street corner. Pedro moving closer to me in excitement as we step inside, the sweet aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling my senses, instantly calming me. The shop fills with natural light streaming through the large windows, creating a warm and welcoming atmosphere and none of that fake brightness lightbulbs give in quaint places like this.

The walls are adorned with local artwork and framed photographs, giving the space a personal touch. The wooden floors creaking underfoot, adding to the charm of the place. The furniture is an eclectic mix of cozy armchairs, wooden tables, and benches that looked like they had been there for decades. Behind the counter, a barista greets us with a smile, ready to take our order. The menu written on a chalkboard, which I take the time to look art despite knowing exactly what Pedro and I will have to drink. We get the same things every time so I go ahead and order.

“Hey! Could we get a caramel macchiato and an iced quad espresso with extra ice and six shots please.” I tell him and he raises an eyebrow at Pedro’s six extra shots but a warm smile replaces it when he sees Pedro staring at the pastries and small cakes with his face and hands practically pressed to the glass. It catches me off guard as it’s the smile you give a couple when you see them do something cute and deeply romantic. I should correct him and tell him he’s wrong but instead I add to my order. “Could you add two caramel doughnuts to that.” and I don’t regret it when Pedro’s face lights up even more. 

Pedro is practically bouncing on the spot as we wait for the coffee and doughnuts, watching the barista prepare them with such love and care while I scan the cafe, It’s quiet and calm with the only other occupants being a group of friends huddled together in a corner, chatting and laughing and a couple sat across the cafe, lost in conversation. The sound of clinking cups and spoons fill the air as I thank the barista and grab our cups while Pedro practically snatches up the doughnuts, having already taken a bite out of one of them before we can sit down. 

“Mmmmm, so fucking good, we - me and you -“ He waves a hand between us, almost knocking his coffee over, “We are coming here very often.” 

“I can get behind that.” I agree as I take my first sip of my macchiato. It’s the best macchiato I’ve tried, the rich and complex flavours making me groan lightly into my cup and I don’t miss the way Pedro’s honey eyes sparkle with amusement. It’s too damn good to care, I’ve made my fair share of coffees as a barista before I became an actor and no way have I ever been able to make one this good. The smooth and velvety texture of the steamed milk adds a layer of creaminess that beautifully balances the espresso's bitterness. It is like a dance between the two flavours, with each one complementing the other perfectly. But the real star of the show is the caramel syrup. It is sweet and slightly nutty in flavour which adds such a warm and decadent sweetness that lingered on my taste buds. 

“You’re making out with that coffee.” Pedro smirks and I’m spluttering. 

“Just because I have actual coffee and not six shots of hyper,” I retort, sticking my tongue out at him, “Whatever this barista has done it’s really fucking good. Like a fucking work of art, a symphony of flavours perfectly crafted and blended to make this-“ 

“You’re cute when you nerd out. You know so much about coffee.” 

“I was a barista before I became an actor.” 

The afternoon continues like that, Pedro and I finding topics to discuss or bicker over but each of us avoiding the topic of our shows and movies. We have an agreement that we talks about normal things, like we aren’t famous or noticeable. Pedro tells me all about his family and I always listen intently as they’re such great people and he seems so close to them it makes me a little jealous as I broke a lot of bonds with my parents when I became an actress. I think out of everyone in his family I would love to meet Lux as she is crafted by the gods themselves and she just seems such a strong and passionate woman with a lot to say and no fear in saying it. She seems dedicated to what she does and seeing pictures and videos of her and Pedro I can see an unbreakable bond that I can’t wait to see in person if Pedro would ever allow me. 

I had told Pedro about my parents and how they had reacted badly to it all. My dad wanted me to become a machine and sit at a desk doing a nine to five job until I get old and die. My dad kicked me out while my mum had shook her head and let me pack my bags, not knowing that I had sent a message to my older brother. My brother had become my pillar of support and Pedro had sat there with pain in his eyes and a hurt look on his face when I had told him everything. He  had promised me that he would always be there for me and I could always find him if needs be which really solidified the growing feeling I have towards him. 

We were on our second round of drinks when my phone buzzes with a message from Oscar. 

‘Mission birthday boy is go.’ 

Then another comes through before I can text back, shielding my phone from Pedro despite the small pout on the older man’s lips as I never hide my phone from him, I could never as I have nothing to hide from the man I am head over heels for but right now Oscar needs me to be secretive. 

‘That means get your asses here now.’

‘Be there in 10.’ 

*

Pedro turns his key in the lock and swings the door open to darkness. He frowns at me, raising an eyebrow in question as we step inside but I stay silent, seeing the smallest amount of movement as I shut the door. As soon as the door clicks shut the room lights up and erupts with cries of “SURPRISE!” 

The birthday boy lets out a shriek of surprise before accepting the hug Oscar pulls him into, the pair laughing and hugging. I think they probably would have stayed like that for longer if Sarah hadn’t wrangled Pedro out of Oscar's arms. All I can do is watch: the apartment filled with weighed down balloons; birthday banners strung up and a small feast of food spread out upon the kitchen island while Oscar joins me leaning against the wall by the door. 

“You did good,” He bumps my shoulder and I laugh softly, taking the beer he’s holding out and leaning my head on his shoulder. There’s not many people here, around 25, and they’re all giving their birthday wishes to Pedro who is practically bouncing off the walls with excitement. I can’t stop the fond smile as he is so happy, eyes sparkling and hands flailing excitedly while Oscar turns his head and presses a kiss to my hair before mumbling, “There’s a surprise for you too.”

“For me?” I frown up at him but I don’t get to pry more when Pedro makes his way back over, a grin so wide I think his face may split into two. He pulls me away from Oscar who takes my beer from me, shrugging with fake innocence when Pedro stops us by the floor to ceiling windows he has in his top floor apartment. His large and soft hands slide up my arms, stopping when they’re cupping my jaw. 

“You organised this for me?” His voice is low and gentle, eyes wide in awe and I go to protest but I realise what Oscar meant so I just nod, scared to see his next move. His ducks his head a little, nose bumping mine a little and I can’t stop the squeal of surprise when his nose is cold and the feel of his warm breath ghosting my face is almost overwhelming. My heart jackhammers in my chest, my eyes slipping shut at the first brush of his pillowy lips in mine. It’s a gentle kiss, full of tenderness and love, nearly knocking me off my feet and how he can make it feel like nothing else matters as I melt into his embrace. It’s just him and me, lost in the passion that comes with a first kiss. 

But the cheering and whooping brings me back to reality, my face heating up and I’m hiding in Pedro’s shirt as he chuckles. Mixture of emotions fill my chest: excitement, nervousness and a rush of adrenaline. His heart is racing just as fast as mine, a small moment of pure intimacy despite the many people observing our interactions. The hug is long and lingering, and as we pull away, I look up into his warm honey eyes and see a mix of emotions there as well. It’s like we both know that something special had just happened between us, and we are both feeling the weight of the moment, knowing we’re in this together and all of our friends couldn’t be happier for us. 

“Happy Birthday Pepsi.” 

“Best birthday present mi cariño.” 

----------

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[tvseries-writings]

And he is back

Wandanat x Bioquake x Bobbi x reader (soulmate au)

TW: suicide

Plot: In a nightmare, you see Hive whose persuades Diasy killing herself and now he is in your mind, again.

You see him, behind her back, the great and powerful Hive. The shadow of a sadistic smile painting his monstrous face as he whispers in her ear. He did it to you too, and now he's doing it to her. You scream at her to stop but it's no use, she can't hear you, no matter how hard your vocal cords vibrate, begging her to stop, not to listen to him. Daisy, the inhuman who stole your heart, stands in front of him, her back to him as she puts a gun to her temple, her finger firmly on the trigger.

You scream, tears streaking your cheeks as you try to get closer but some kind of barrier prevents you. You slam your hands on that invisible wall; once, twice, three times but nothing you do seems to get his attention.

"Daisy, please," your voice is hoarse and trembling and the Inhuman looks at you but her eyes are glassy, the effect of Hive's drug clouds her mind and your heart aches, you know what she is feeling and you know the effect her control has on Inhumans like you.

"Daisy, look at me, don't do it, love. There's me, there's Jemma, Wanda, Natasha, Bobbi, May, Coulson, Fitz, Mack...please Dee, don't do this."

You plead with her, falling to your knees as your tears fall so profusely that they pool in a small stain at your feet. Your heart clenches as you watch her grip the gun tighter.

Hive walks over to the hacker and girds her hips, bringing his mouth closer to Daisy's neck.

"They'll be better off without you; think about Lincoln, Trip..."

He whispers it as glibly as if he were speaking words of love as he looks at you with dark, malevolent eyes that pierce your soul. He looks at you as if he were addressing those words to you as well.

Daisy looks at you one last time before unlocking the gun's safety.

"You'll be better without me."

You scream and your heart stops when a shot rings out in the dark gray cell where you stand. You fall to the ground and watch the blood gush from her lifeless body. You watch his face quickly turn to ash gray.

"Do not despair, you will soon meet his end, inhuman."

Hive approaches you and, finally, the barrier that separated you from Daisy shatters. You start to run toward her but Hive grabs you by the arm, forcing you to turn toward him.

"Your time has come."

"No!"

You scream and as he makes you dependent again, your concern goes to Daisy's body lying on the cold concrete floor and the only desire that pervades you, before Hive takes over, is to hold her in your arms and hear her laugh once more.

………..………………………..………………

You wake up drenched in sweat and with your heart beating wildly. Your chest aches and it takes you a few seconds to realize that what you experienced was nothing but a terrible nightmare.

Chills run down your spine as you sit up; your pajama shirt is so wet that the cold air outside the covers makes you shiver at the mere touch.

You search frantically for Daisy with your eyes, and when you see her chest slowly rising and falling and her light snoring, you breathe a sigh of relief and your heart finally begins to calm a little. You bring your knees to your chest, looking at Daisy and not taking your eyes off your girlfriend. You struggle to extricate yourself from Bobbi's grip and step over Jemma to get out of bed. You need to get some air and you don't want to sleep, not anymore. You don't want to see her face again and, most of all, you definitely want to get the image of Daisy out of your head and- and.

You shake your head, gritting your teeth and trying to breathe deep to get the image of the gun pointed at her temple out of your head.

You look at the nightstand where Bobbi always rests her gun, despite your protests, Jemma's protests, and Wanda's protests. Natasha, on the other hand, along with Daisy, fully supported her. You don't think twice before taking it in your hand, squeezing it with more force than you should. If Hive is back, if he has entered your head again...No, he is dead, Lincoln sacrificed himself to make him dead. His sacrifice could not have been in vain, not-

You can't freak out, not here, not with them sleeping so you touch your bracelet, activating it, before teleporting to the gym. You sit on one of the mats May uses to meditate, turning the gun over in your hands, savoring its weight and the coldness of the metal. You sob, thinking back to the nightmare and what Hive put you through, put you through. You remember vividly the dazzling withdrawal his lack of touch caused you; the physical pain he caused you, not to mention the mental pain. If he came back--you look down the barrel of the gun and turn it toward you,toward your face. If he came back, your last moment of lucidity will lead to your death, is a promise.

"What the hell are you doing?"

May's voice makes you wince and you drop the gun to the ground. May quickly approaches you, kicking the gun away and trying to meet your gaze.

"What the hell were you doing with a gun pointed at you?"

May repeats, punctuating each word harshly as she watches your every movement.

"I-it's not what it looks like May."

You whisper; you don't make eye contact with her, yet you feel her gaze burn into your back.

" Y/n, I really don't think it can look like anything else right now."

Flashbacks of your nightmare return to cloud your mind. You don't even realize that you tried to reach for your gun again and were stopped by May.

"Y/n, y/n! This is not real, what you are experiencing is not real. Listen to me, follow my voice, let's go."

May is frightened, you don't seem to be listening to her, and the Caveman is particularly startled by the blank look on your face.

"Agent!"

May shouts, shaking you by the shoulders, and Hive's face in front of you turns into the face of your SO.

"M-May?" you whisper, your voice shaky and broken as you cling to her as if she were your only lifeline.

"It's all right, it's all right. It was all in your mind."

It takes you a few minutes to realize that you are clinging to your SO; although you see May as a mother -- well, she must not know that. You pull away from her and swing from one foot to the other, looking out of the corner of your eye at the gun a couple of feet away from you.

May follows your gaze and quickly reaches for the gun, taking it in her hands and slipping it into the empty holster on her right thigh.

"Are your girls awake?"

You open your eyes wide, shaking your head firmly.

"No, no May, you don't have to tell them anything. Please May."

The officer sighs, crossing his arms and looking at you with a raised right eyebrow.

"Y/n, you're clearly having problems and you need to talk to someone about it, okay? They are your partners, if-"

"It's Hive!" May stops and you sigh, before continuing; your back hunches, as if you are bearing the weight of the world on your shoulders, "It's Hive, May. He's back, he's entered my head again, he's brought Daisy to-a-"

Tears line your cheeks, you no longer know what is real and what is not.

May looks at you confused and shakes her head as she tries to move closer to you, unsuccessfully as you pull away from her touch.

"No y/n, Hive is dead, Lincoln sacrificed himself to make this happen...Daisy is fine and he is not in your head. Not anymore."

You chase away the tears, wiping them away with your pajama sleeve but they continue to fall copiously; again and again as your body shudders with each sob you emit.

"Rockstar?"

Bobbi's voice makes you hold back a sob. You turn to her, noticing that she is not the only one who has noticed your absence in the bed. After all, your soulmates feel, at least in part, the feelings you have; especially if those feelings are as strong as the ones you are feeling right now.

"We didn't find you and we got scared," Jemma whispers, moving a few steps closer to you.

"And Bobbi's gun was not in its usual place."

The Inhuman approaches you and, before you can pull away, draws you into a hug.

"You dreamed Hive, didn't you?"

You stiffen under her touch as soon as that name slips from her lips. It feels wrong, poisonous, you want to suck it away once and for all. From yours and his mind, knowing the pain he has caused you both.

You nod, slowly. You lean into her touch, tired of bearing all that suffering alone, like so many times before. Daisy caresses your face, brushing a rebel lock from your forehead, before leaving a tender kiss on it.

"He's dead love, he's dead. He will never come back; I will not let him hurt you again, do you understand? Never."

Jemma, Bobbi and May watch the intimate moment between you and Daisy. Although Jemma and Bobbi are dying to hold you in their arms, they understand that in this moment Daisy is the only one who can truly understand your pain.

May approaches the two biochemists, handing them the gun she had previously hidden in her holster.

"I believe this is yours, Bobbi. I would advise you to put it in a safer place, you never know what might trigger an attack, you know."

Bobbi nods, quickly taking the gun and putting it in the back of her pants only after setting the safety. Jemma looks at the gun, looks at you, and then turns her attention to the older officer.

"What did he do? Why doesn't the gun have the safety on anymore, May?"

May sighs, shoots you a look and then drags Bobbi and Jemma away from you and Daisy.

"She...had the gun in her hand and was pointing it at herself."

Jemma gasps, as does the blonde. The weight of the gun, now, is a hundred times heavier and almost seems to drag her down.

"No May, you're wrong, she wouldn't, not-" The biochemist shakes her head, clinging to Bobbi's arm and looking at the blonde for confirmation, a hint of reassurance that, however, does not come.

The blonde agent looks away, thinking about how much Hive's addiction upset you, just a few months earlier, and how you became a different person under his control.

"Bobbi? She can't, right? She can't have done that, not-"

"Jem, remember what Hive did to her, how her powers rebelled against her own control...And now think if she thought she was at his mercy again, unable to do anything. I don't doubt that she could have, though it hurts to admit it."

You only seem to break out of the little bubble you and Daisy have created when Jemma emits her first sob.

Daisy's head snaps toward the biochemist; her gaze is a mixture of concern and confusion as she searches for an explanation for the fact that one of her soulmates is in tears. Bobbi shakes her head, mimicking a "we'll talk about it later" with her lips before leaning close to Jemma's right ear and whispering something that neither you nor Daisy can hear but that makes her stand up and leave the gym.

"Bobbi, what-?" you ask, confusion painting your face as you force yourself away from Daisy and toward the blonde.

"It's okay rockstar, she's just worried about you, we all are really. What do you say we join her in bed? It's four in the morning and I think we all need a good night's sleep."

You're not convinced by his answer, but he's right about one thing-you do need sleep, and even though you're afraid Hive will come back to haunt your dreams, you fear you have to do it anyway. Or at least, you have to pretend you do otherwise your girls will never leave you alone. So you nod, nod a small smile at them, say goodbye to May and leave the gym, joining Jemma. Daisy, Bobbi and May stand there and watch you leave, avoiding talking until your silhouette disappears from their sight.

...............................................................

You are holding Jemma in your arms when you see Bobbi and Daisy enter your room. From their looks, you can tell that May has told them everything.

Bobbi stares at you for a few seconds before setting the gun down on the same nightstand from which you borrowed it not an hour earlier. You stiffen a little at the thought of the talk the girls are about to give you and shudder at the mere thought of having to tell Daisy about your nightmare. The girl you're holding in your arms notices; in fact, she lifts her head and looks you in the eye as she lovingly strokes your back two, three, four times before the other two girls also join you on the bed. Bobbi sits cross-legged on the bed, inches from you and Jemma; Daisy, on the other hand, sits beside you, taking your right hand between her own.

"Honey, what did you dream? Did you dream Hive?"

You nod, stroking her hand and playing with the ring on her index finger. You focus on the warmth emanating from her body, on her face, on the face no longer as pale and lifeless as that has invaded your mind in the past few hours.

"L-he...he killed you, Dais. Or, I, he had you under his control again and convinced you to-"

Although you are trying to hold them back, tears line your cheeks ignoring your concern, "I saw you put the gun to your temple and pull the trigger."

The three girls remain silent and you turn away from them.

"And I couldn't do anything, I couldn't teleport, you couldn't hear me and- and finally, he made me go to you and I held you in my arms but it was too late."

Sobs shake your body as you approach the bedside table. Bobbi follows you, not for a moment leaving you uncontrolled.

"Y/n..." the blonde whispers, starting to move, slowly, toward you.

"I can't let him control me again, I can't, he's still inside my head, I-I love you, I really do, but I won't survive if he controls me again."

Your thoughts race frantically, so much so that your hands shake and you suddenly find yourself on the opposite side of the room. You fall to the floor with a thud, watching your girls, previously inches from you, more than a couple of feet away.

"Fuck it, fuck it, it's messing with my head, I can’t even control my powers anymore!"

Tears roll down your cheeks; you jump to your feet and shake your head furiously, over and over again. The last time you weren't in full control of your powers, it was under the influence of Hive. You no longer have doubts. You're not thinking clearly, otherwise you wouldn't do what you're about to do. You sprint towards the nightstand and, despite Bobbi trying to get there before you, you manage to grab the gun and remove the safety.

“What-no, stop!”

Daisy is moving towards you, Jemma is petrified and Bobbi is analyzing the situation trying not to panic.

"I'm sorry, I love you"

You pull the trigger and wait for the gunshot and the pain but none of that happens. The screams of your girls are the only thing you can hear.

"What the hell did you want to do"

Natasha stands in the doorframe, her voice shaking at the sight of the gun pointed at your temple. Wanda, however, is right behind her; her face is pale and her eyes are red as she uses her magic to keep your index finger from pulling the trigger. You look at your hand, see it covered in Wanda's red magic and your heart stops for a while when you realize that you haven't completed your task yet. Bobbi lunges at you, tackling you to the ground and throwing the gun away, but not before stuffing the magazine into the back pocket of her jeans. You collapse against the floor, surrendering under the blonde's grip with the hope that what is happening is nothing more than a nightmare. You could use your powers to free yourself from her grasp but you don't want to hurt her in any way. And suddenly, despite months of therapy, you fall back into the depressive state that Hive brought you to during his time on earth. You remain helpless in Bobbi's arms; your gaze is glassy as Bobbi talks to you, shaking your shoulders when you don't answer her. Your body moves back and forth, with the same ease of an unconscious body but you, on the other hand, have your eyes open, wide open, even if the emotionless and apathetic look in your eyes worries your girls greatly and Wanda does this that you think is best for you. She kneels next to you, caresses your temples and puts you to sleep with her magic.

“What the hell is going on?” Natasha whispers, breaking the silence as all the girls look at your unconscious form in Bobbi's arms.

“I… I think she has some Hive residue in her mind,” Jemma says, knowing she's just released a bombshell. They have to help you, whatever is happening to you, they will help you.

Thanks for reading! I don’t even know what is this but hey, at least it’s something :)- Have a great day and, if you want, you can support me on ko-fi. ☕️

Taglist: @wandanatsbaby @bioquake-archives @bioquakeweek @daisyjohnsonx @wandanatsgirl @chaekhan @station19 @resilientpendragon @so-no-kissing-then @thearchpitbullmx @ashadash0904 @kingshitonly @alwaysgoodnight @callistic @xjule @yuleni18 @simpforwandanat @alexxislexi @mrsdanversromanoff @coollemonsaresour @hushed-woodsman @razorscooteer @eponine-xx @maniacallinc @michelle170 @classyig @elenaguarnieri @scarletwidow @tati3001 @cristin-rjd @your-my-mission @mr-nicely @hi-i-1 @anniethurs @ktstwice @scarlet-raccoon @maria-403 @goldfishthegr8 @wandanatfan @looiegirl-blog @bioquake-blog @daisyjohnsonx

[luimnigh]

What do you think is the most common superpower for girls? I think it's telephathy because then the girls are dainty enough for the male readers

While I do agree that powers like telepathy and empathy are likely skewed towards women due to pre-existing gender biases, I don't think it would be the most common. That's a fairly rare power, with telepathy in Marvel almost the exclusive domain of X-Men characters.

Honestly? I think the most common superpower for women is probably the most common superpower point-blank: super-strength.

Just off the top of my head: All the Spider-Women, Spider-Gwen, Silk, Rogue, She-Hulk, Captain Marvel, America Chavez, every female Asgardian, White Tiger, Bobbi Morse, Misty Knight, Bloodline, Squirrel Girl, Emma Frost, Gamora, Nebula, Tigra, Jessica Jones, Laura Kinney, Wonder Woman, Power Girl, Supergirl, every single Amazon, Starfire, Artemis, All the Wonder Girls, Mary Marvel, Big Barda, every female New God... I'm absolutely missing dozens here.

[untoldreader]

A New Beginning

Bobbi Morse x pregnant reader

Chapter 1

The moon cast a soft glow as Bobbi and I walked hand in hand along the quiet streets, enjoying a rare moment of tranquility. The cool evening breeze brushed against my cheeks, bringing a sense of calm amidst the chaos of our lives. Little did Bobbi know that this peaceful walk was about to take an unexpected turn.

As we turned the corner, I took a deep breath, gathering the courage to share my secret. The words felt heavy on my tongue, and I wondered how Bobbi would react. Would she be overjoyed? Would she worry about the challenges we might face? Only time would tell.

We reached a small park, where a bench beckoned us to sit and take a moment for ourselves. Bobbi, ever the observant one, noticed my unease.

"Is everything alright, Y/N ?" she asked, concern etched in her voice.

I smiled, trying to ease her worries. "Yes, everything's fine, Bobbi. There's just something I need to tell you, something that will change our lives."

Her eyes widened with curiosity, and she squeezed my hand gently. "You know you can tell me anything. What's on your mind?"

I took a deep breath, my heart pounding with anticipation. "Bobbi, I'm pregnant."

A flicker of surprise danced across her face, quickly replaced by an overwhelming joy that mirrored my own. She wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into a tight embrace.

"Y/N, that's incredible news!" Bobbi exclaimed, her voice filled with elation. "We're going to be parents!"

Tears of happiness welled up in my eyes as I nodded, feeling an indescribable bond forming between us. In that moment, the worries and uncertainties faded into the background, replaced by the sheer excitement of the new life growing within me.

Bobbi kissed my forehead, her eyes sparkling with love and tenderness. "You're going to be an amazing mother, Y/N. And I promise you, I'll be there every step of the way."

Her words washed over me like a soothing balm, erasing any lingering doubts. I knew that together, we could conquer any challenges that lay ahead. Parenthood would be an adventure, and I couldn't imagine a better partner to embark on this journey with than Bobbi.

As we sat there, basking in the joy of our shared secret, I couldn't help but marvel at the surprises life had in store for us. Our lives were about to change in the most beautiful and profound way, and I couldn't wait to embrace every moment of this new beginning.

≈========================≈

Note: This chapter is a work of fiction based on the Marvel Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. universe. The character Bobbi Morse and the events described are fictional and not based on any specific canon from the show. :)

Bobbi Masterlist Chapter 2 >

[writerofadream]

Can u either do Nat x Reader oneshots, or Clint x Reader oneshots.

And have a powered reader, with gravity manipulation

(seriously best power ever ngl)

Of course I shall, mi amor, I'll do whatever your heart desires. I'll be starting off with Natasha first!

If I am being totally honest, you kind of didn't know what to think of Natasha Romanoff at the begining.

I mean how could you? She came up to you with her beautiful red hair and amazing voice.

You didn't know what to do!

But Natasha knew exactly what to think of you from the start.

Fury had told her exactly what you deal was and why you were there in the Avengers just like her.

You worked with Bobbi Morse, and when she went undercover at Hyrda... you did as well. But you didn't make it out.

A year later, a girl named Daisy Johnson pulled you out, and well the mess you had been undone to, wasn't pretty.

When you became even the slightest upset everything around you seemed to drop to the floor, people, animals, picture frames, food, the list went on.

So when you found out that SHIELD wanted more from you, that they wanted you to join the fucking Avengers?

"There ain't a chance in high Hades I'm going ANYWHERE, with you." Is exactly what you screamed at the poor intern assigned to picking you up.

... There's a chance that you may or may not have pushed him twenty feet away from you with a flick of your wrist very soon afterwards.

So Natasha came next.

Well, after an hour of... talking, you joined, and let me tell you, the ammount of god damn JOKES Tony made about you 'Shaking his world.' made you want to drop him through his building to the bottom floor, no scratch that, through the bottom floor.

When Natasha asked you out, it was- something to say the least.

Nat at 3 a.m: *Knocks on your door* You opening the door yawning: What the fuck- Nat quickly looking at a spot on the wall behind you: Do you want to go out yes, or no? You tired out of your mind: Sure? Nat: *slams door*

When you did start going out Clint and Tony made about a million bets (Who'd kiss the other first, etc.)

You did, you kissed her first, (cue sounds of Clint clapping in the background and Tony crying) and it seemed to be the only thing that kept your emotions in tact

Natasha loved you, she loved the way you looked at her, the way your mouth smiled, she loved each of your scars, she loved you, and that meant every part.

Now here comes the true oneshot time.

You were not a cuddler, but surprisingly, Natasha was, after the redroom and all that time with Drakov, and not truly ever knowing the way a loving touch felt, meant she loved whenever you held her, or whenever your shoulder brushed hers, any simple touch, made her so happy.

Natasha had a tiny secret, which was that she loved cooking, her best memories where when she was younger with Yelena, and her parents were at work so she'd cook up something special for her younger sister, but you on the other hand, were terrible at cooking, the one time Clint tried to convice you, you got so pissed off the entire refrigator began floating and getting suspiciously taller then Cint.

Nightmares were a common thing between the two of you, but on days were it was truly terrible, the entire bed would lift off the ground and you'd scream these horrible words, and when you woke up? All you'd do was stare at your hands and rock back and forth.

Natasha's nightmares on the other hand were always silent, but you weren't used to silent, the tower was always bustling even at nightime, no matter if it was the familiar pang on the window as Tony's pet project The Spider would come in to repair his suit, or if Clint was pacing in the vents, or if Thor and Loki were fighting over Uno... again, or if Steve and Bucky were sparring with Wanda, and finally Natasha's familiar snore, it was soft, but whenever it stopped you woke up quickly. When she woke up it was different, she'd wave you worried hands away and tell you nothing happened.

When you guys fought, it was deathly silent, aside from the gentle hum of raw energy in the air. If she was to blame you'd just stare at her and with a whisper of despair all you'd manage was "Why?" and if you were at fault you'd get the cold shoulder, she'd change bedrooms, and wouldn't tell you what you did wrong.

she proposed because god knows your not risking rejection from the god damn black widow of all people

Now it is Clint's turn.

He screamed at you the first time you met.

Okay let me explain.

You had walked into the compound on your first day after a workout session at the gym, and it had been fucking four in the morning (You had sleep issues), and he was just laying half in-half out of the vents, and when his half opened eyes saw you...

Well he screamed.

Loudly.

Surprised by the action, a chunk of the wall fell down and you cursed, and made the concrete rise back into its place in the wall, and you stitched it together, Clint watching you silently the whole time.

When you finish, you give him a slight glare and walk off

Hes in love

Your hot, powerful, and hate him??? literally on his knees

He fell first, and he fell hard.

You didn't fall in love till around age of ultron.(at least that is what you told him)

But you ask him out first, and you do it at the worst time possible.

*during a fight* You as you bring down a building with a snap of your fingers: Just curious, you free saturday? Him blowing up some bad guys with his arrows: Yes- why? You: We're going on a date then and just wanted to make sure.

... does natasha give you the shovel talk?

...kinda...??

one night you go to bed and wake up somewhere in the middle of isreal tied up with a large piece of paper sitting in front of you that says "fucking watch yourself."

and then y'know, u quicly become besties... somehow

clint hates it (but he likes that it makes you both seem brighter)

now heres the real oneshots

he's not the best with kids, but you are, yet kids make you worried

the first date is a movie and dinner

he doesn't visit your part of the tower till the fifth date ;)

after the loki incident and even before that nightmares were common with clint, he was even more paranoid the nat

there was a gun underneath his pillow, a smoke bomb on the dresser, a comprresed bow and 15 arrows in a basket by the bed

and ofc his gravity girl <3

(thats ur name on his phone)

(his name on urs is: hawkie xo)

he loves cooking, like it borderlines crazy,

"hey babe, do you want to go out tonight cause i dont wanna cook?"

clint crashing out of the vents screaming his head off: FUCK NO. IM ABOUT TO MAKE THE MOST SCRUMPTIOUS SHIT YOU'VE EVER TASTED

and then- and then somehow he does??

your a super big hugger, but he's not.

none of the avengers have noticed the fact u 2 r dating

steve catches the signs though

he notices the way you 2 act after rough missions

You had been ignoring everyone on the way home, the avengers has went after a sex trafficking ring and you had stumbled on a room full of what the children called 'the miss behaviors' it was a room full of twenty-three children dead, with one bullet in their heads.

Now you sat in the kitchen your head in your hands. "What can't the big bad, Gravitas, deal with it?" Clint teased. "Fuck you, Barton." You hissed at him, about to stalk upstairs. "Wow, the great Gravitas can handle everything but emotions can't she?" He laughed at you and Tony was about to tell him to screw off, but Natasha grabbed Tony's arm and shook her head.

Suddenly a kitchen knife flew at Clint and he deflected it quickly. "Oh come on, such a cry baby." He smiled wide and joyfull. You were standing in the hallway shaking quietly and when you turned around you were smiling.

You were fucking pissed. You launched yourself at him, and the entire compound shook. But Clint didn't return any of your punches. He either took them or blocked them.

Finally you just stood there, your fists clenched. "Come on gravity girl. You'll be alright." He whispers.

Then... you break.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Would you consider doing a Bobbi Morse x Daisy x Reader either as one of the pairings for kinktober or later on whenever you have time? Understandable if not tho!

Hope you are having a beautiful day/night

Hi sorry um I'm pretty sure those are characters from agents of shield but I've actually never watched it. The names are familiar enough but I'm unable to write for these characters

[unholyhelbig]

So excited for the end of firecrest!!

Title: Firecrest (Part 7/7)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven]

Summary: Kate Bishop and y/n have an unspoken agreement that revolves around being enemies with benefits. But when Kate's new mentor is someone Y/n is very familiar with, things become complicated.

Warnings: Horrible parenting, hospitals, bad language, needles, cannon-typical violence, drinking, guns, death, horrible grammar we know I don't beta read!

[A/n: First of all, thank you guys for your patience while I worked on this last chapter. This story hits kind of close to home. Not the fire powers, obviously, but the parental issues. It's one of my favorites and I hope I didn't disappoint.]

It was a gunshot that pulled you from your haze between sleep and alertness. It’s a distinct noise that seemed to echo off the very structure that you were trapped within. The iron bars that caged you chattered with the same ferocity as your teeth.

All at once, you registered the intense warmth of Kate pressed against you, and the quickness of her heart pounding close to your own. She lifted her head from your chest with a frown, sleep clinging to her stare. Her fingers gripped at the fabric of her own jacket that you’d slipped on sometime during the night.

Another shot rang out, pulling the two of you apart with as much quickness as you could muster without the pain becoming too much. Still, a grunt of discomfort escaped you and Kate’s stormy stare, still heavy with sleep, widened. She pressed her finger against her lip, signaling her plea for silence.

You flushed red and nodded, following her quiet order. Kate was surprisingly nimble for someone who you’d never known to be quiet. She’d gotten to her feet, her booted feet barely making a sound against gravel. The commotion was coming from the far side of stables, and it was moving closer.

All at once, you felt an indescribable fear and a relief that was unmatched. There was no way for you to protect yourself. One of your eyes had swollen shut and though you hadn’t tried standing yet, you were sure that it wasn’t an option on unsteady feet. Kate would gladly nudge herself under your arm, take your weight and haul you from the premises, but you would just the same encourage her to leave you behind.

You were a liability like this and if those gunshots had lodged deep into the flesh of the wrong side, then it was the two of you that would suffer in an almost poetic end. Like most hired captors, yours suffered from the same lack of foresight. They’d released your coordinates for dramatic flair, but a flare it was. Streaking the sky in sparks of red and orange and leaving behind a foul-smelling trail of smoke.

Kate frowned and crouched low to the ground, pressing her palms into the clay earth. You couldn’t help but find her stunning like this; focused, locked-in with a deep scowl on her features. The sun had just risen, and it cast her in a ghostly blue light. The green in her eyes suddenly reflected the red of a scope.

You gave in to instinct much before you registered the sealed wounds tearing back open with a searing squelch. Little pin-pricks of red LED had swarmed Kate’s chest like a colony of ants, circling until they’d found their target right above her heart.

She’d barely registered the lights before you’d tackled her to the ground and pinned her under your body. You were doing that a lot lately, pinning her somewhere that neither of you wanted to be. She broke her own rule of silence with a grunt of surprise and a breath that splayed against your chest. Everything thrummed with your heartbeat as you clenched your eyes shut and waited for the blinding white pain of a reign of bullets.

That never came. Instead, Kate’s arms were wrapped carefully around you like a solid force that was not to be reckoned with. You heard her exhale, a rush of air like a waterfall with your ear pressed this close to her chest. They weren’t shooting. Why weren’t they shooting?

You grimaced in pain and detached yourself from the archer, plopping ungracefully onto your back next to her. You stared up at an unblinking agent, dressed head to toe in a tactical uniform. Their gun was lowered, the scope light dancing against the gravel and dust. Once more- you recognized the hazel in the eyes, even before a gloved hand removed the mask covering the lower part of her face.

“That little show was very valiant of you, buddy.” She said, not trying to hide her shit-eating grin. “Totally unnecessary, but I’m sure it won you points with Artemis here.”

A groan that was mix of pain and embarrassment pushed past your lips. You used the last of your strength to bury your blush-bloomed face into the crook of Kate’s neck. Your Aunt Daisy was the last person you’d ever want to see you curled up with a Hawkeye, nonetheless. But you were aching too much to care. Too relieved that they sent in SHIELD.

Things began to move fast, despite the pain in your bones making a slow descent from your head down to your toes. Kate had been rendered speechless by the Director of SHIELD herself coming in for the rescue and comparing her to Greek Goddess all in the same breath. You, on the other hand, swallowed down the taste of metal as you were hauled to your feet.

She had a lemon scent to her that was an instant comfort. You fell into Daisy’s offer of solace, insistent that you could at least walk to the waiting ambulance with her help. She was much too patient with you, just like she had always been.

“We’ve kept the media pushed back to the end of the drive, but they’re vicious these days.” She mumbled against your blood encrusted temple. The two of you stopped just short of the mouth of the stable. She sensed your exhaustion and let you ease yourself down onto a bale of hay.

A set of eyes were on her at all times, and she waved a command at them that was nothing short of a signal to bring the help to you. She was perfectly content to let you lick your wounds and press your fingers to your ribs in the only security you’d been able to hold onto.

“I’m shocked they sent you. Not that I’m not stoked to see you, it’s been too long.” You appended your statement quickly.

“They didn’t send me. The department was taking too long, so I stepped in. I hated when Coulson would pull that Director bullshit, but it comes in handy sometimes. They can’t really say no to me. Especially not when my niece is being held hostage and they’re not making a move.”

You frowned and stared at the tightly packed hay. It was taking on a strawberry quality under the assault of your blood. A SHIELD agent with a medical badge around their throat knelt in front of you and waited for the slight nod you gave to start assessing the brunt of the damage. You flinched at the cold when Kate’s purple jacket was stripped away.

“That woman…”

“Is going away for a long time.” Daisy assured in a steely voice. “He didn’t make it. Might have been dressed like a cowboy but he certainly didn’t know how to shoot like one.”

You hummed in something that could only be deemed sick satisfaction, too exhausted to find your voice. You let yourself slump against Daisy’s shoulder, her fingers coming up and tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as the medic worked. You were cold; numb.

Still, across the chaos, and the sound of a news helicopter that had somehow started to hover low enough to flip the leaves of the surrounding aspens onto their white bellies, you found Kate; wrapped in a blanket and shaking from the rush of cold that she’d tried to smother. A pulse ox was on her finger and she flinched when a thermometer was shoved under her tongue. She rolled her eyes, offering up a small wave.

You smiled at her, waved back like the two of you were adjacent in a school yard and not separated by 500 feet of agents of crime-scene tape and people you’d be hard pressed to recognize.

Daisy scoffed, “You Morse women and your Hawkeyes. If this one breaks your heart, I’m breaking every arrow in her quiver.”

They’d waited until you’d slipped back into sleep to smear the alcohol pad against the building vein in your hand and slide the needle past skin. You’d fought them hard on being taken to the hospital in the first place, fought them harder when they moved you to a secure wing that was separate from even Kate.

Eventually, as Daisy smoothed her hand down your back and nudged you in the right direction like only family could, you relented. They’d posted guards in front of your door to keep Cindy Moon and her blood thirsty interns from sniffing you out.

Before you’d succumbed to unconsciousness, you were getting nervous. You had yet to see Bobbi or Lance. Even Clint would have been a warm welcome compared to the near-empty room. They’d taken what was left of your clothing. You were entirely too exposed in nothing but your boxer shorts and a sheer hospital gown that was open along the back.

The pinch in your hand elicited a groan, and then another. There was fuzz at the edges of your vision, and you’d known that some degree of morphine was pumped through you. There was a weightlessness to your being, even as you blinked your eyes open and were met with ones that reminded you too much of Kate’s, but not quite there.

“Mm, Mrs. Bishop?”

The socialite froze in her movements. You frowned, stretching as much as your body allowed it. She was one of the last people you wanted to see right now and she was much too close to your IV stand for comfort. She turned with a stiffness and placed her cold hand on your arm, a move that was supposed to convey comfort but did the exact opposite.

“Oh, baby, you should get some rest.” Her fingers moved up to your forehead, brushing back strands of hair. “You’ve been through quite a lot these last few days. You had us so worried.”

Suddenly, you felt an unbelievable tug at the center of your chest, a grief that was so palpable. It was a feeling that you had only experienced once or twice during your short life, but one that rocked through every part of you all the same. You wanted your mom.

In this moment, you were six years old again, in the sterile lab with tears dripping sloppily down your cheeks and breaths impossible to pull into quivering lungs. You were scared and the only thing that would stop the rush of fear was the warm, encompassing embrace of the woman who brought you into this world. Only she could stop the thing trying to take you out.

Eleanor clocked the rigidity in your stance, letting out the slightest breath before lowering herself onto the corner of the bed. “Has Katherine ever spoken about her father?”

You shook your head. This didn’t’ seem like a conversation you should be having without the archer aware or even present. You ached for her, keeping your fists bunched and your eyes trained evenly on the woman who had somehow conned her way past the agents at the door.

“Derek’s nickname in high school was Icarus. Most people, most sane people, would find that to be an insult but Derek saw Icarus as an innovator. He didn’t look at the melting wax wings and the plummet to a bloody death as a bad thing, because for just a moment, he was flying.”

You swallowed the dryness in your throat, nearly choking on your own saliva. There were flashes of the man, usually smiling, his wrists weighed down by heavy watches and expensive shirts tucked into pleated pants. Kate missed a month of school when he died and was never quite the same following the battle of New York. None of you were.

“Politics, darling” she touched your knee under the layers of blankets “are filled with Icarus’s all chasing the same sun. Sometimes, someone who can see the bigger picture needs to step in and give them something other than wax to sculpt with. Are you following me?”

It may have been the morphine talking, but you simply chewed on your bottom lip, a glassy look in your eyes. “No?”

And truly, you didn’t. Though, you were a bit admonished by the look of annoyance that flicked past her features. Again, you saw a little of Kate in her stare that made you long for the girl that you’d barely had a chance to see in the last twenty-four hours. You had the sudden urgency to rip free of all the wires like the Hulk himself and go to her, wherever she was.

“Okay,” Eleanor stood, suddenly exasperated by your lack of understanding. She’d be a horrible teacher, lacking the patience even in your inebriated state. She sidled up next to your IV again and you tracked her with your stare. “We’re going to make this painless, because I’m afraid my Katherine won’t forgive me if I go about it any other way.”

She dug into her bag that cost more than your collage tuition and produced a syringe. The object conjured an acute fear in you, a fight or flight that you’d exhibited in the waiting room and again before they brought you up here and let you have your way.

“Seriously?” You groaned, throwing your head back into the pillow “What is with people and drugging me lately? It’s not creative! And if you take one more step, I’ll blow us both to bits!”

The words escaped you with such a nonchalance that Eleanor lowered her hand with the needle and blinked at you in disbelief, cocking her head like an animal hearing a high-pitched noise. It was a bluff. You hadn’t felt that familiar itch of fire under your skin since dinner.

Still, all it would take was a spark and the quick removal of the oxygen under your nose. She eyed you with all the conviction of a mother challenging her child ready to throw a tantrum and a lazy smirk twitched at the edges of your lips, too exhausted to fight. To really fight.

“You don’t have a lighter.”

The sound of a crack filled the room, a metal and hollow noise that made you jump back as Eleanor Bishop fell to the floor in a heap, the plastic needle sliding far enough away from the piping of your IV to finally bring comfort.

Kate stood in her place, holding a dinner tray in a defense position. “She doesn’t need one, bitch.”

The smile on your face was genuine this time, hands making quick work at removing your IV and detaching any sensors that were keeping you bound to the bed. They beeped in protest, but you couldn’t, and wouldn’t give a damn. Kate was in an equally as exposing hospital gown with a dopy smile that was unmatched.

She dropped the tray, bending down with careful ease and connecting her lips to yours “hi darling,”

“Hi baby,” You kissed her back hungrily, savoring the sweet taste of her “God, you’re warm and you smell so nice, and I know Artemis was really into chastity, but please don’t make me wait.”

Kate scrunched her nose and pulled back with amused raise of an eyebrow. “You doing okay?”

“Morphine.”

“Ah… well, we’ve already had sex. A lot. And right now, we need to focus on getting out of here. Turns out Mother dearest was colluding with some very unsavory people who aren’t happy about your aunt’s intervention.”

You nodded, staring into Kate’s slate eyes, they searched your features, the plumpness of her lips, the constellations of her freckles. You wanted to trace and every one of them with the pads of your fingers. Her knocking out her mother with a dinner tray was quite possibly the most attractive thing you’d ever seen her do.

You rose on shaky feet, blinking the confusion from your eyes. You wanted to curl back into the warmth of the archer that was at your side in an instant. She wanted to cling to you, to steady you when you threatened to sway, but swallowed it back.

The urge to protect her outweighed everything else, knowing full well that she could protect herself just as much as she could you. When the door to your room creaked open, it revealed the agents slumped against the wall. They hadn’t done you much good, but you still knelt down and checked for a pulse. Weak, but still there, so Eleanor wasn’t entirely lost.

Kate’s fingers slotted with yours and she silently led you through the quiet hallways. There was a sterile detachment to the hospital at this time of night that unsettled you and brought back that same cloying feeling that made you weak. You wanted your mother. Hell, you wanted your father too. Your hand tightened around Kate’s and for the first time since a needled had been shoved into your neck, that familiar edge of fire reared its ugly head.

Your thoughts were racing listlessly. There was no safety for purchase. The media had been interested in your relationship with Kate to begin with but now that the two of you had been thrust into the spotlight for something akin to an action movie, all eyes would be waiting for an update. Something that had been nagging at the back of your mind for the past few days, just like the dull ache in your bones.

Kate moved towards the elevator, but you stopped short, shaking your head in a heavy silence before taking the stairwell instead. It was freezing, goosebumps rising against your skin. The constant hum of the hospital was instantly silenced, jolting you into another world entirely. Kate looked like a phantom raised from a grave.

She narrowed her eyes at you, sinching the back of her gown together with her hands. “Stop that.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Katie. You look cold.”

Your words were sluggish, the past week catching up to you as you clamped your hand together with hers once more. You didn’t have much energy behind your gift, but what little you did, you directed towards Kate. She shivered, a low gasp escaping her as she pushed closer to you.

Fire was often seen as something of destruction, but it was also the ultimate source of warmth and in a moment where the two of you had never been so vulnerable, so smelling of sick and so frozen from the inside out, you wanted nothing more than to be a comfort to the girl you loved. The girl you had just admitted to loving.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” Kate breathed out.

“You don’t know a lot of things about me. But, I promise, I’ll tell you everything as soon as we get out of this mess. Who is behind all of it, anyway?”

Your hushed voices still echoed in the vastness of the stairwells as you padded down them with as much quickness as your feet would grant you. There was an emergency exit on the ground floor that set off a blaring alarm but deposited you directly into a damp alleyway that was a few degrees warmer than the hospital was. You both breathed in sour relief as a charge nurse inhaled on a cigarette with widened eyes.

“Hey, uh, what hospital is this?” You asked, brushing your bare foot free of gravel.

“I’m not paid enough for this.” She sighed out a puff of smoke, but in the same breath “Parker Memorial.”

“Oh sick, walking distance.”

Kate’s elbow was bony as it slammed into your ribs, but she made up for it by gently taking your hand and setting the pace towards what you assumed was her penthouse. It was easy to get turned around in the city. No one batted an eye at the two girls wandering the streets in hospital gowns.  

“This past winter, my mother got into some shady stuff, and I overlooked it. I had a lot going on myself and I didn’t want to believe that the one biological parent I had left standing would fall into the dark underbelly of New York just like every other rich fuck in the city.”

You blinked hazily at Kate. At this angle, she was shaded by the passing yellow lights of the traffic, of the storefronts and the food carts that wafted greasy scents. It once produced a comfort but now filled you with a roiling nausea that was hard to swallow down. You felt the undeniable warmth of wounds reopening and the sticky discomfort of the thin hospital gown adhering to your skin.

“I let it go because suddenly there was Clint and it was hard not to fight for his attention which is not an easy thing to win. I was relentless and eventually my mother and whoever she was talking to late at night was an afterthought. She got careful or I got careless, or maybe it was both. But either way, she started backing Lance because… Wilson Grant Fisk wanted him to win.”

You stopped abruptly enough to feel the sidewalk dig into the soles of your feet. It reminded you of scraped knees and haphazardly applied bandages, of summers when the streetlights would come on and you’d race home to wash up before dinner. Kate stopped too, hunched into herself, trying to seem smaller than she was.

“How do you know all of this?”

“There were bits and pieces. I eavesdropped on a lot of my mothers conversations, and then when she caught on and life got complicated, I started to take notice of the people that would attend benefits. I never, ever thought they would pull something like this. That they would hurt you.” Her voice tightened, and she glanced away before her eyes could mist over. “I would have paid better attention if I had just fucking known.”

You tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, despite your unsteady hand. Her grey stare a shock to your nervous system. Tracks of tears ran down her cheeks, streaking the blushed red that you wanted to kiss away. “None of this is on you, okay? Katie, we can’t be heroes all the time. For now, we can just be thankful that we made it this far, and that we made it together.”

“Yeah,” She sniffed, her delicate touch moving to your wrist, fingers tracing the blued veins that were barely visible under the lights. The maps that could mirror the subway systems under the city, or the constellations of stars. “And that we got this far without being too much like our parents?”

You scoffed “That too.”

Exhaustion had all but overtook you by the time you had made it past the doorman of Kate’s building. She had clocked his cold, unfeeling stare and her fingers dug warningly into your ribs. She was holding you up dutifully.

It wasn’t the usual guy, that much you noticed. The last time you had been in this elevator with Kate, it wasn’t your Kate and the guilt still tasted sour on your tongue. This time, the two of you were washed pale in hospital gowns and bare feet that had been torn to shreds. Where was SHIELD when you needed them? Fighting off the media circus and an imminent alien invasion now that you had been secured.

“What are the chances that we can get into your place without a fight?”

“Maybe 80%” She brought her hand up to the small of your neck, ghosting her fingers over the soft skin there. You fought off the chill that pushed through you. “I didn’t hit my mother that hard, so chances are she’s come to and has called Mr. Fisk already. If they’re planning to kill us, they’ll do it here.”

“It just doesn’t make any sense. Wilson wanted Lance to win, so he hires someone to kidnap and torture me, give him a valiant rescue, but then, what? Gets cold feet and keeps him here instead?”

Kate hums furrowing her brow. “Unless it wasn’t him at all and my mother went rouge, hired them to take both of us.”

The mechanical whir of the elevator jolting to a stop and opening pulled the two of you apart. Kate still steadied you with her stone touch. It opened directly into the penthouse, which was eerily silent. There was a distrust embedded deep within your stomach. Kate glanced at you uneasily.

Instinctively, you wished to reach across her as if you’d slammed too hard on the breaks of your car, her head jolting quickly towards the dash. Instead of risking a fractured skull, you risked questing her ability which you would never do. Kate could handle herself and could certainly handle herself better than you in your current state.

She dug quietly through the umbrella bucket by the mouth of the elevator and produced one of Jack’s swords, sheathed of course, until she pulled the leather casing off. You stifled your smile. He might not be smart enough to see the blazing red flags that his second wife was waving around erratically, but at least he did this.

Kate was an expert swordsman; this you knew from the countless times she had you pinned to a blue mat with the tip of foil shoved against your torso, the shaft bent like an arch and an overly cocky expression on her face when she pulled off her mask. Her cheeks were always a delicious shade of red, hair mussed with sweat. She’d even reluctantly taken lessons with Jack once she’d realized he had a few helpful tricks past showmanship.

You hesitantly took a step back from Kate and let the fire that had been bubbling below your skin, biting and growling like a dog on a chain, free. Your hands were engulfed in a dull yellow that flickered against the expensive art in Kate’s foyer. The closer to your skin, the bluer the flames. Kate’s gaze reflected the color brilliantly, and the small nod of understanding she shot your way made your heart flutter. You’d torch the place if you had to.

Muffled voices hit your ears first, the contrast of cold between the patio doors being open and the fire that poured out of you. When you both emerged from around the corner all of the commotion in the room seemed to come to a halt.

Clint was sitting on a piano bench in the far corner, massaging his temples. He hadn’t changed out of his dinner clothes but had shed his jacket. It was draped across the back of the couch that looked worse for wear as if someone had tried (and failed) to get some rest.

Bobbi was silhouetted by the cityscape behind her, a menagerie of unblinking eyes. This was the first time that she had ever exhibited any signs of her age to you; wrinkles, and pale skin, nails bitten down, hair greasy and worked through in a clear pattern of anxiety.

She was wrapped in a cardigan and hunched over as if she were fighting the biting cold of a winter storm. The only force holding her up was Lance. His strong hands braced on either side of her arms. His eyes were rubbed a raw red, damp with what seemed like a fresh display of emotion. He had worried his lip to the point of drawing blood and had scratched nervously at his throat until that too was a mess of red claw marks. Something that he hadn’t done since your first day of high school.

Both you and Kate frantically searched every inch of the room. This was it. This was it? There was no Wilson Fisk with his horribly gaudy cane, or another cowboy that sought to brand you with a rusted blade. Not a mother with a poison-dipped tongue (though you weren’t thrilled about Clint), or even a step-father who could be none the wiser to the situation.

Neither of you relaxed your stances.

“Kid,” Clint spoke in a calming, gravelly voice, Kate’s head turning. You didn’t’ look at him. Eyes trained on your parents instead. You were breathing heavy as if to combat the cement filling your lungs and hardening by the second. He spoke again, firmer this time. “Kid, look at me.”

This time when you snapped your eyes over to meet his, unwanted tears trailed down your cheeks. You didn’t want to cry in front of him. These were meant to be for the relief of Bobbi and Lance, they were in reaching distance- they are right there God damn it, let me go to them, this isn’t about you.

“Everything is fine, take a deep breath and put the fire away.” He attempted to soothe.

Kate made a quiet noise in the back of her throat and tightened the grip on the hilt of the sword. She stared at Clint incredulously as if telling him to stop. You respected her attempt at mediation, it was much more than fake Kate had done, but he was terrible at reading social ques regardless of which partner he was dealing with.

“What, you don’t think I can control this?” you asked, lifting one hand up and staring at the flames as if it were an alive creature, jumping from fingertip to fingertip. “You’ve always been afraid of fire, haven’t you, dad?”

Lance tightened his grip on Bobbi’s arms. The words tasted like acid in your mouth. She watched the interaction as if she were viewing it from outside of the house, hand pressed up against the window. She was locked out but could hear every single word. She made no attempt to break it open despite having every tool at her disposal. This was something you had to do.

“I’m not afraid of fire.”

“Sure, you are.” You stepped down into the living area, the simple motion tugging at your body in all the wrong ways, but you still swallowed back the pain. The weaknesses that had been bestowed upon you by the hands seeking so hungrily for political gain. “Everyone is, it’s a natural human response to destruction, and that’s all fire does, that’s all it is. A form of dismantling whatever environment it’s placed in.”

He swallowed dryly. The two of you must be quite the unhinged sight; bruised and bloodied, feet cracked from the cold city streets. You were in hospital gowns and shivering as the adrenaline and medication wore away from your bones like a ratty old coat. The tip of Kate’s sword was drooping and you could feel the fight slowly start to drain from you.

“You know something, though? I spent my entire life trying to come to terms with being a monster. Being that destruction. The chaos that scares everyone away that I couldn’t see the one person that never left my side. The one person who didn’t send me to specialists, or didn’t walk out on me because it was easier. The one person who was never afraid of fire.”

Clint couldn’t look you in the eyes. Not even as the flames left your fingertips. You couldn’t hold it anymore. The tension in your hands was too much, the heat in your veins nothing but a dull tap at the window of the house now. You wanted your parents. You wanted a shower. You wanted sleep. You needed to finish this.

“Clint,” You choked out, his stare raising sheepishly from the finish of the floor. “We can stop pretending that you’re here for me. It’s okay to love Kate Bishop. I sure as hell do. But just because you’re in her life, does not mean you can come here and uproot mine by trying to be something we both know you’re not. Am I clear?”

Three things happened at once; He nodded, your legs gave out, and Kate’s sword fell to the floor with an undignified clang. You figured that you would be right there with it, but Bobbi, with her learned reflexes had reached you before that outcome was possible.

Lance was at Kate’s side in a matter of moments, making sure she didn’t succumb to the same exhaustion as Clint blinked tepidly at the entire situation that moved around him. They hadn’t hesitated for a moment, and you almost regretted leaving the hospital, had it not been for your girlfriends (was she really?) mother trying to exterminate you.  

For now, you enjoyed the cold contrast of the wooden floor and the innate warmth of your own mothers embrace. She carried her signature scent of warm citrus and the unfamiliar one of bourbon. Your nose was buried in her neck as you sobbed, careful to find her pulse point with an accuracy that she taught you, just to make sure she was alive. That she was there.

She was whispering something, pressing tender kisses against your forehead and using her thumbs to wipe away the tracks of tears that muddied your face. But you couldn’t discern her words, not over the pounding headache and the sudden need to sleep.

Clint Barton was the first thing you opened your eyes to. His smiling face with a glass of milk and a horrible painted white mustache above his lip. The comically written ‘Got Milk?’ slogan was next to his head and strategically placed around his quiver and arrows.

The groan that you produced caused the warm and heavy arm around your midsection to tighten. You knew that Kate was awake due to her breathing pattern. It was a hazy time in the morning where the sun was too bright for her to remain asleep no matter how exhausted, though she still snuggled close to you to keep you appeased.

“Is this hell?” You mumbled into the floral pillow.

“Close. It’s my childhood bedroom.”

You turned in her arms, not an easy task considering you were in yet another twin bed. This time it was four posts and fitted with thousand-thread-count sheets, so it was a clear upgrade. You didn’t mind the way you had to tangle your legs with Kate’s, how she had to ensnare you in her strong embrace to keep you from falling off the edge of the bed.

Kate’s eyes were clouded with sleep, her freckles catching the rays of sun. Up this close, you could see every grey and blue shift in her iris. You wanted to trace the exposed surfaces of her face and learn every detail that was on display. For now, you settled on running the tips of your fingers over the split in her eyebrow, careful not to press down to hard, you didn’t want to cause pain.

The two of you had been intimate in many aspects (on many surfaces) but this was only your second time waking up next to Kate Bishop formally. Not in a jail cell, or with her rushing to get dressed so the two of you could put on a charade for your families. You wanted this every day. You wanted her every day.

She gently took your hand and placed a kiss against your fingertips. “How are you feeling?”

“Like we probably should have stayed at Parker Memorial.”

Kate giggled and started to nervously play with your fingers. The two of you stayed in relative silence for a few moments, listening to the sounds of the city and what sounded like someone cooking breakfast just past the confines of her bedroom. The world could wait, just for a little bit.

“How are you feeling? Horribly staged kidnapping aside, some big things happened with Eleanor yesterday. We don’t have to talk about them if you don’t want to. But that offer you made in the boxing gym all that time ago works both ways. You can talk to me.”

She huffed out a breath that fanned against your chest at the memory and tucked her head within the small of your neck. The two of you had been gifted with normal clothing that you didn’t even want to begin to speculate on how you’d gotten into. But feeling the coolness of her nose against your throat sent shivers down your spine all the same. When she spoke, it vibrated close to your skin.

“Part of me feels sorry for her. She’s always justified her behavior by the nature of her cause, you know? But that’s not how the world works. Doing horrible things for good reasons doesn’t change the fact that you’re doing horrible things. Paying someone to kidnap your daughter and her girlfriend for political gain is fucked up even if you write it in pretty font.”

She stiffened suddenly, pulling back and looking at you with widened eyes, her jaw clenched as if she had just ripped a sloppy set of stitches. It took you a moment to catch on to her quick change in demeaner. The way her own hand tightened around yours.

“I didn’t mean to say that.” She rushed out, cheeks suddenly a violent cherry red. “That just came out. All the other parts, those are totally true.”

You couldn’t help but smile at her. “Is that so?”

“Yeah! Yes. Unless… you liked the way it sounded. In that case, I meant every single word.”

You mocked a frown, and stretched out a little, watching as she held her breath. The redness in her face kept growing different shades like a sample card at a paint store. You were enjoying this way too much. “I don’t know Katie. If I say yes, does this mean I get to see more of those fun toys you have hidden away in your closet?”

Another shade of red was accompanied by her flopping down gently and mumbling an undignified ‘yes’ into the fabric of your shirt. You patted the back of her head with a chuckle before gently guiding her stare back up to yours, sufficiently happy that she was breathing fairly normally again.

“Kate Bishop, I would love to be your girlfriend.”

You tamped off her sigh of relief with a soft kiss that soothed all of the nerves that still ached in your body. You were perfectly content to stay in her childhood bedroom for the rest of the day, the rest of the week- maybe even forever. Just wrapped up in her warmth and her scent. It was all you’d ever wanted; right in front of you and you’d been blinded by smoke this entire time.

“Thank god,” She mumbled against your lips “Could you imagine bringing anyone else into my family?”

Bobbi dug absently through her pocketbook searching for a mint wrapped in cellophane that was hidden amongst photo ID’s and credit cards. It wasn’t a deep clutch, but it could have been endless based on her searching. “Remember what we talked about y/n?”

“Of course,” You reached in your pocket, produced your own tin of mints and handed enclosed her fingers around it as if it were routine. At this point, it had become one. Over the last two months she had resorted to wearing glasses, finally giving in after Lances poking and prodding. She often forget them at home. “Would you like me to repeat it?”

She did not dignify you with answer. This conversation was all too familiar, just like these awful events were. Instead, she offered up her arm and you took it great fully. Despite the exhaustive days of physical therapy, you were still working on getting up to speed with the full use of your right leg, an injury that adrenaline had hidden well and good until you put your full weight on it.

After Lance had won his political race by a landslide victory, things seemed to move at a whirlwind pace. Interviews and cameras, and reporters that were much too interested in the sudden arrest of Eleanor Bishop. Ultimately, she had been pinned with the criminal kidnapping of both you and Kate. SHIELD made sure to clean up the rest, no mention of the Cowboy or the woman in the mask.

You squeezed your mothers hand once before she was whisked away to another section of the grand house you had been invited to. It was spruced up with fall decorations and smelled too much like nutmeg. But champagne was passed around on trays and you were careful to pluck one off with the tact that you were ushered into. Still, amongst the chaos, Lance made a point to meet your eyes from across the room, lifting his own glass with a solemn nod and a loving smile that you returned.

You’d found your way out of the crowded foyer after a few polite hellos and into a quieter part of the house. A darker library that had a few groups talking amongst themselves. The scent of cigars outweighed that of pumpkin and the warmth settled against your shoulders comfortably.

Your fingers moved across the spines of the books tracing the gold and reading the beautifully crafted titles as you took small sips of your drink, letting the alcohol warm your stomach and the carbonation burn your throat.

“Look at us, we match.”

Kate’s voice reached your ears before her touch against your waist. All the same, her presence encompassed you with the sudden bliss of calm. The two of you did, indeed, match. She wore a midnight blue suit sprinkled with small stars against the collar, constellations that you could only see when you were close enough to kiss her. Galaxies of possibility.

She’d chosen your own blazer, laying it out on her bed and giving Lucky instructions to keep his paws off, which he shockingly did despite the lint roller you had on hand in case anything went awry. Kate pressed a quick kiss to your lips, grasping your drink all in one motion, a sly trick that you never commented on, content to be dazed in your own right.

“What are you looking at?”

“A collection of Shakespeare’s best.” You moved your index finger against another forest green spine. “He once said ‘Be stirring as the time, be fire with fire, threaten the threatener, and outface the brow of bragging horror; so shall inferior eyes, that borrow their behaviors from the great, grow great by your example and put on the dauntless spirit of resolution.’.”

Kate took two swallows of campaign, a healthy tint to her cheeks as she lowered the glass. There was admiration in her eyes. “I love it when you talk dirty to me.”

“I’m serious, Katie” You chuckled, stealing your drink back.

“Me too,” She grabbed the lapels of your jacket, pulling your close, nudging her nose against yours. “Say the word and we can go back to my place right now.”

“As much as I would love that, I promised Lance that we would stay through dinner.”

She huffed but nodded all the same. “Okay, okay. Explain to me then, the beauties of Shakespeare. Why that quote? Why now?”

You shook your head and traced the grouping of stars on the collar of her jacket that was closest to you. It was a feeling that you couldn’t explain. You had been in mostly bliss for the past two months. Despite the arrest of Kate’s mother, the back of fourth of Clint still being in your vicinity but pointedly staying away from you. Things had been good. They’d been great.

But something still didn’t make sense.

“I don’t know,” You sighed out, “I just feel like we’re not getting the full picture. I’m glad that Lance won, but at the same time… What if we were all just pawns in something bigger?”

Kate’s tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, knitting her eyebrows together. “Pawns rarely know they’re being moved around the board. I think maybe we just have to wait. As hard as it is. I’m a selfish girl, y/n. For now, I’m happy that we’re both safe. If Fisk is going to drop another shoe, we’ll just have to keep an eye out for it.”

“You’re right,” You swallowed thickly, trying to ease the tension from your shoulders. “I just worry that he’ll throw the shoe at full speed through a windshield, you know?”

“We’ll be okay, you know why?” Kate smirked devilishly, curling her finger under your chin and lifting your gaze just enough to stare into her cornflower eyes. “Bishop always takes King.”

“Oh, that was awful,” You pulled away from her, shoving the empty champagne flute into her hands. “You’re finding another ride home tonight.”

“Come on, I was kidding. I don’t even know how to play chess!”

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