#a dish that you love. small moments of happiness where all the outside is gone and youre actually HAPPY

[jewishdainix]

This is hilarious

[brbsoulnomming]

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 1

By the time Eddie is twelve, going to live with his uncle in a trailer in Hawkins, he only has a dozen or so words from his soulmate.

It used to make him guilty, that his soulmate was the kind of person who rarely lied, getting stuck with Eddie who spit lies out like they were the shells of sunflower seeds. Then it made him angry, that he only had a handful of shit like he did it! and I already washed my hands. A small spattering of normal kid shit, while Eddie had to say things like no, officer, I don't know where my father is and Mom's just not feeling well today, Mrs. Anderson.

Then, a year or so before his dad got caught for good, he got It's nothing, I just tripped and Yeah, Mom, I understand, I know he won't do it again and he thought - maybe his soulmate is the kind of kid who knows sometimes it's just better not to say anything.

Eddie can understand that.

Living with Uncle Wayne is - hard. It's hard because it isn't hard, not the way it should be. It makes Eddie say more things that he knows his soulmate will see on his skin, things like I never wanted to be here anyway, and I want to be alone, just leave me alone.

His uncle is endlessly patient, and it grates on his nerves because he wants it. He wants it so bad to be real, but he just - keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something to be too much.

For Eddie to be too much for him.

It comes to a head one night when Eddie's mad at him over something or other, asks why he's doing all this.

"You're my kid, and that means I'm not going anywhere," his uncle says, all gruff and raw honesty, and Eddie can't bear it.

"You don't think your soulmate's going to get tired of all these lies that keep showing up?" he snaps, even though he regrets it the moment it's out of his mouth.

He regrets it even more when there's a heavy, aching silence, and he finally looks up at his uncle, eyes wide and terrified as he thinks this is it, he's finally gone too far -

"It's not a lie," Uncle Wayne says finally, holding Eddie's gaze. "You hear me? It's not a lie. I'm not going anywhere."

Eddie nods, and his uncle relaxes a little, then grimaces, like he isn't sure he wants to say anything else.

"I don't have anyone for lies to show up on, anyway."

He says it like it doesn't matter, but Eddie bursts into tears anyway.

Not everyone has a soulmate. The majority of people do, but it's not uncommon for people to never have words written on their skin. In school, they teach that it doesn't mean you can't be happy, it doesn't mean you can't find love. They teach about soulmate bonds that didn't work out - there's whole plays and novels and movies written about that kind of tragedy and misery, after all.

But sometimes there's still an undercurrent of pity, of bitterness. Outside of school - or inside it, when it isn't the teachers talking - some people say there's something wrong with people who don't have soulmates, some people say that they were meant for bigger and greater things.

Some people say that soulmates are supposed to be between a man and a woman, and every time someone who's queer gets a soulmate, it's because they stole them from someone else.

And Eddie doesn't believe that, not really, but he can't help but wonder if maybe his uncle does, and he can't stop crying.

Now his uncle is the one who looks terrified.

"Son, come here, it's all right, it really is." Uncle Wayne gathers him up in his arms, holds him close the way no one's ever done for him before, and just lets him cry and cry and cry.

Later, Eddie thinks about just letting it go, but - he has to know, he just does.

"Do you think someone stole your soulmate from you?" he asks as he's washing dishes, not looking at his uncle and hoping it doesn't sound anything like do you think someone like me stole your soulmate from you?

Uncle Wayne scowls. "That's a load of horseshit, is what I think. No one can control whether they have one soulmate or two or none, and it doesn't make someone greedy or a thief."

Eddie opens his mouth, then closes it again. He's known about people with two soulmates before, of course, the same way he knows about people with none - and he's heard the comments about them being greedy same as he's heard comments about them being lucky, or a dozen other things people've theorized to explain it. It's just that it doesn't really tell him what he'd wanted to know, and he can't figure out how to ask without being more specific.

Uncle Wanye is looking at him real close, though, and there's something like a quiet acceptance that flashes over his features.

"No one can control who their soulmate is," he says softly. "Whoever yours is - they were meant for you in a way they aren't meant for anyone else. Love like that can't be stolen, kid, it can only be given."

He thinks about that for a long moment, then nods. "Okay."

"Good," his uncle says gruffly. "Now finish those up and get off to bed."

------

First part of a Steddie and platonic Stobin soulmates AU I'm working on, where any lie you tell gets written on your soulmate! No idea how long this is going to be - it was supposed to be a oneshot but it just keeps growing, so I wanted to share at least the first bit of it.

Now with Part 2

[yourgentlegirlfriend]

Apple pie

my loves!! FIRST OF ALL AS I FINISHED WRITING THIS I NOTICED I HIT 700 FOLLOWERS? I do not deserve the support you guys give me.. AT ALL. Please enjoy this chapter i love you guys so much :((

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DISCLAIMER: IF YOU WERE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH NSFW/DARK CONTENT OR ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18 PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT WITH MY BLOG. MUAH.

Warnings: LOTS of angst, mentions of shooting, stabbing, cleaning wounds, and blood. proceed with caution.

Word count: 2,606

“Four is way too early to be here.”

Your coworker Jasmine laughs as the two of you finish doing the dishes together; you nod your head in agreement as you wipe your wet hands onto your apron. The shifts are always like this, though—you, Jasmine, and Fred, the cook.

“Alright, well, that’s enough for me.”

You yell from the break room as you pull off the apron around your waist and hang it onto the hooks by the door. It’s nights like this where you think about Leon. He’s been gone for almost two weeks now, your eyes wandering over his closed windows whenever you’re outside.

The kiss runs through your head every single day,

the way his lips were so soft even though they looked chapped, his fingers gripping your cheeks so gently, yet it felt like he didn’t want to let you go. The long honk pulled you from your thoughts, looking up to see the green light. You put your hand out the window as an apology before speeding through the street, happy to see you were finally on your road. You are the only person on the whole street with a nice lawn. You pull into your driveway, sighing as you tug the keys from your car before you step out and lock it. Usually, in your routine, you start watering your lawn. But your heart pounds in your chest at the sight of Leon’s front door wide open, the hinges broken and the sides of wood cracked and torn. Leon would’ve called you dumb, running towards his house at the sounds of grunting and loud thumps.

Then silence.

The moment you walk into his house it’s just quiet. There’s a bottle of whiskey on the ground shattered to pieces. Leon’s house was huge, the long hallway leading to two other hallways and multiple rooms. You clutch at your purse in fear as your shoes click against his wooden floors. Where did he go? His car is in the driveway.. the doors open.. What if somebody killed him? What if he’s hurt? Your throat goes dry at the thought. Even though you guys haven’t spoken for two weeks, you still couldn’t help but care.

“Leon?”

You’re stupid. You’re so stupid. Your heart was beating so fast it was blocking your capability to hear a scream trying to come from your mouth as a large hand smacked over your mouth. A cheek pressed against the side of your hair as you got dragged into a room, the door shutting. The only sound in the room was your heavy breathing against this hand.

—————————————————-

Leon always stays up, at least till you get home. He knows your shift ends soon, his arms pressing into the cool counters in his kitchen as he pours the whiskey into his cup. Staring down at the dark liquid. The sound of tires rolling makes his head snap up, thinking you were finally home but a black truck rolls just in front of his yard, parking against his curb.

“Son of a bitch…”

His footsteps are fast and heavy. His hand reached down to pull at the small door under his couch, tugging at the duffel bag and grabbing the pistol, checking to see if he had put bullets in the mag. There hasn’t been an incident like this in a long time, he was just thankful you weren’t home. His arms raise as he aims at the door.

But everything happened too fast, coming in from almost every direction, and he could only fire so much. A loud grunt left his lips as one of the much bigger men punched him across the face; Leon’s lip instantly started bleeding as he kneeled over, wiping at his lip as he stumbled through his spare bedroom door. The house was pitch black which made the whole interaction so much more fun, didn’t it? The noises of multiple footsteps running up his steps made him sigh in relief as he pressed his forehead to his door.

“Leon?”

Hearing you call out his name caused every muscle in his body to contract, swinging the door open to see you stepping down the hallway, still in your work uniform. He sees you gasp at the body on the floor, and being the idiot you were, you bend over to check his pulse and see if this stranger is okay.

He read your body language so well, seeing you start to panic as you stand up again, going to call out for him again. He stepped forward, his large hand clamping over your mouth as he dragged you towards the spare bedroom. Idiot. Leon’s never felt himself shake like this, his strength fighting against yours before he shoved you into the wall as quietly as he could, his hand still pressed over your mouth as you panicked against him.

“Are you fucking insane?”

Leon’s tongue is sharp, your eyebrows frowning in concern as you mumble against his hand, reaching up to touch his bleeding lip. Leon grumbles as he turns his head away from you, his hand tightening before he turns back at you.

“Just- don’t talk. Stay silent. Do I make myself clear?”

You’ve never seen this side of Leon. You’ve seen him petty, bitchy even, but never stern. Your head nodded at him before he rested his forehead against the side of your face, pulling his hand off.

He was injured; his cheek was obviously bruised and his arm was cut. He was still in his pajamas, his gray t-shirt lose on him as he caught his breath leaning against the wall. He immediately stands up straight at the sound of shuffling down the stairs.

“He’s gone, we can’t wait, he probably already called in backup.. Let’s leave.”

Leon stood behind you, staring at the door, his finger ghosting over the trigger as he listened to the large group of men shuffles out of his house. The two of you stand there in silence, the sun starting to rise through his curtains as he takes a deep breath, pointing to the bed.

“Sit down and just- stay here. Do not move.”

Leon watched as you walked to the bed, sitting down as your eyes retraced his hurt frame. Leon pressed his ear against the door before he cracked it open and stepped out the door.

You sit in your own silence for what feels like forever, biting at your nails nervously as you listen to the house's silence. A loud thump made you spring to your feet, pushing the door open as you run to the the living room.

You frown as you see Leon holding onto the couch, his chest heaving as he grabs at his ribs.

“Leon..”

For once, he lets his guard down, feeling your hands grab at his shoulders. He immediately reaches for you, allowing you to help him up. He’s much heavier, but that’s too much to think about now. Your hands wrap around his waist as he grips your shoulder as you walk him carefully down the steps, your hand grabbing his as he groans with every step.

When you do reach your house, he’s trying to push you off. Your hands grip him tighter as you drag him to his bathroom.

“Enough, Leon.”

To your surprise, he sits there, your shaking hands digging through your cabinet for your first aid kit. Just stay calm. Stay calm for his sake. You had so many questions, but cleaning him up was the primary importance. You stand up, leaning against your sink as you close your eyes to think for a second.

“Just listen-“

“Shut up, I'm thinking.”

Leon sits quietly, just looking at you, your hands gripping at the sink as you reach past him, turning on the shower. Your hands wiping against your work pants as you grab Leon’s arms, helping him up. It wasn’t in a sexual manner, though you knew Leon probably wasn’t thinking about anything other than the burning pain in his ribs. Your hands tug at his shirt, your eyes growing wide at seeing his bruised ribs. Your fingers gently graze over the patch of bruised skin already forming, Leon groaning as he leans his head on your shoulder.

“It’s okay.. You’re going to be fine Leon.”

You lean him carefully against the sink as you tug down his pajama pants, looking up at the ceiling as you do so.

“C'mon, slow steps..”

You drag Leon by his shoulders as you step him into the shower, your fingers checking the temperature as he stands against the wall. You lean forward, carefully rubbing the water into his arm so the blood can somewhat go away and make cleaning easier.

Leon just watched. Your black long sleeve gets wet as you wash at his skin. He’s a grown man, he shouldn’t be letting you take care of him, not like this.

“Off me..”

Leon groaned as his eyes squeezed shut. He felt the gentle touch of your fingers vanish as you stepped back from the shower. Just don’t bother him. You're silent as you pick up his pajamas, shutting the bathroom door. When he’s in the shower, you run across the lawn, Leon’s blood still all over you as you walk through the destroyed house. When you find his room you dig through his drawer, just grabbing as many clothes as you can.

This is when you realize Leon Kennedy was more than just your neighbor. You didn’t even notice the blood staining your hands. You shook your head as you ran back to your house, locking the front door as you heard the shower stop. You stand outside the shut door, your knuckles brushing against it before you knock quietly.

“Leon? I have some clothes-“

The door swings open, all your first aid materials spread out on the counter as Leon stands dripping wet from the shower, his hair soaked.

“I don’t know what the fuck I'm doing.”

“I noticed..”

You laugh softly as you walk into the bathroom, grabbing the towel that hung from your shower. Leon sits on the toilet again. He couldn’t help but take in the smell of your shampoo from the towel as you rubbed the fabric into his hair and carefully down his arms. You lay the towel carefully onto his lap, covering him hoping to make him more comfortable as you lean down, grabbing the bandages from your counter. You look up at him as you reach behind him.

“It may hurt but lift your arms a bit.”

Leon listens- shockingly. You wrap the bandage around his ribs, pressing the small sticker into the bandage to make it stick. Your hands press at his elbows to lower his arms as you stand up, grabbing the alcohol.

As you clean the cut in his arm, you think about the first night you guys met. The dinner you cooked him, and the way he left.

Leon thought about it too, staring down at the ground as you wrapped bandages around his bicep, just like you did around his ribs.

“Look at me.”

Your voice is so smooth, so calming. He hated to admit you were an angel, and he needed you every single day so badly. And you somehow knew he did every time. Leon looks up at you, your cheeks flushed from moving around so much.

You grab the wet washcloth, straining it into the sink as you lean over, patting the cloth into his lip. Your thumb brushes against the bruise on his cheek. Your other hand reaches up, brushing his hair back as you pull yourself back, grabbing the black shirt you got from his house.

“You went back to the house? You’re so stupid-“

You shake your head at Leon’s words as you lift his arms for him, tugging his shirt onto him before you hand him the sweatpants. You turn yourself to the wall, listening to him tug his sweatpants up as he sighs in pain.

Leon finally gets a look at you, covered in his blood, your hair a mess and your face still flushed. Leon stumbles a bit but manages to stand up. Unlike him, but he follows you like a stray puppy, watching you flick on the bedroom light as you pull the comforter back. It was odd to him to see your room in person. The photos of you and your coworkers all over the wall by your vanity.

“Lay down, I'll get you medicine.”

Leon watches as you walk past him. This was what he was afraid of. Exposing you to things like this, literally covered in his blood and taking care of him. It wasn’t what he deserved.

“I think I'm just going to go home.. It’s early and you work-“

“Leon. Please.”

Your voice was strained, your body stopping in the middle of the hallway as you took in a deep breath.

“Just, lay down.”

Leon’s eyes rolled in frustration as he sat himself down on the bed, groaning as his legs pressed against the soft mattress. The whole room smelled like you, his fingers grazing over your silk pillows, a slight smirk ghosting over his face as he saw the teddy bear on your bed. You’re back fast, faster than he would like because he would’ve loved to admire your space more. You hand him the glass of water and the white medicine.

“Hydrocodone.”

You speak as you hand it to him, his eyebrows raising.

“How do you have hydrocodone..”

“Have you always talked this much?”

Leon laughs as his hand pressed against his ribs, nodding his head as he takes the medication.

“I deserve that.”

You just stare at his hunched-over frame, the slight stubble gracefully growing on his face. How did this happen? If you told yourself a month ago that Leon would be in your bed, you would laugh.

“I’ll be on the couch. Call my name if you need me.”

Leon feels an unfamiliar warmth in his chest as he watches you turn from him. His chest rattled as he stood up, the pain radiating through his body at the sudden movement, causing his head to snap back at the man in confusion.

He just stares at you, your eyes watching him as your chest rises and falls with your tiny breaths. Leon shrugs as he looks down at the bed, his face twisting in confusion as his mouth opens to speak

“Can you just stay? Just till the sun rises fully?”

You look at him in shock before you nod your head slowly, walking to the other side of the bed and laying yourself down. The bed dips as Leon lays himself down looking up at the ceiling. His arm moves to the center of the bed, the rough padding of his fingers brushing against the back of your hand. Your fingers lift slightly as your fingers intertwine with his. The bed shifts as he moves in closer, your arm lifting as he lays his head against your chest, your arm laying against his back as you pat the back of his head, the two of you soaking in the comfortable silence.

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[sunshinesickies]

Warrior Nun Ava x Beatrice Sickfic

Could We Be More?

(Set during their time in the Alps aka when they’re both actually happy)

“Uh…boss?” A deep voice comes from behind Beatrice. Setting down her pencil, she looks up at him from where she sits, prompting him to continue with a slight raise of her eyebrow.

“Ava has a shift today, right?” Hans questions and Bea feels her heart skip a beat at the mere mention of Ava’s name, though her expression remains neutral. No such signs of her sudden emotions. “Yes…” She glances at her watch, “her shift started 30 minutes ago.” She informs, looking back to the Swiss bartender, her heart rate beginning to rise.

His hand moves to rub the back of his neck. “That’s the thing, well, I know you don’t like to reprimand her when she’s late but um, well, she’s still not here.” He ends with a nod, saying what he needed and swiftly turning on his heels, heading back down to the bar, leaving Beatrice’s heart pounding. Ava was never this late. She’d been so caught up in counting inventory that she hadn’t noticed the younger woman hasn’t shown up yet. How could she possibly lose track of her? It was her job to keep the Warrior Nun safe.

W-what if…no. No what ifs. Not until necessary, Bea thinks. Taking out her phone, she calls Ava, once, twice…three times, going to voicemail each time. Okay, maybe now she can worry. Immediately she shoves her things into her bag and rushes downstairs.

“Hans, you good by yourself today? I’ll double your pay and you can have all the tips from tonight.” Beatrice offers, having no doubt he can handle the bar alone, but feeling bad leaving him to do everything.

He simply nods. “Sure. Thanks boss. Did you contact Ava? Is she alright?” He anxiously asks about his friend. The young woman always seems to bring a sense of light and joy wherever she goes and her absence so far is definitely starting to be noticed by the bar’s regulars.

Beatrice lets out a sigh. “Thanks, Hans. You’re the best. And no, I’m going to look for her now.” With that, Bea rushes outside and runs practically the whole way back to the small, old apartment she’s been sharing with Ava. She actually does run the whole way up the three floors of stairs to get to their door. Stopping a moment to catch her breath, Bea then quickly enters, her bag being thrown on the kitchen table as her wide eyes scan the small apartment.

There’s no evidence that Ava’s still there. Nothing misplaced, no dishes in the sink. It was easy to see that she wasn’t in the adjoining living room or dining area. That leaves the bedroom. Bea is across the room in seconds, pausing outside Ava’s closed door and giving a gentle knock.She lets herself in when there’s no response. Squinting her eyes in the sudden darkness of the room, her eyes quickly adjust and easily make out an Ava-sized lump in the bed.

Beatrice’s whole body relaxes as she lets out the breath she’d been holding. The sight of seeing the sleeping Halo Barer, safe and sound brought her emotions back to normal. Swiftly and silently, she crosses the room and Ava’s face domes into view as she stands by the side of the bed. The younger woman is still asleep, which Bea finds odd. She knows Ava loves to sleep in occasionally but so far, during their life here in the Alps, she hasn’t missed work once.

Though, Bea thinks, she did seem abnormally tired last night. She’d skipped dinner and immediately gone to bed the second they’d gotten home, something Bea should have caught on to let her know something was off. Bea knows Ava’s been pushing herself during training and working extra hard at the bar, but the dirty-blonde always seems to have an unlimited supply of energy, always enjoying it all.

Bea watches the gentle rise and fall of Ava’s breath, looking so peaceful as she sleeps. All relaxed and adorable, curled up cozily in the blanket. Beatrice has to stop herself from reaching out to touch Ava’s face. She longs to graze her fingertips along the skin which she knows will be soft as silk.

Turning around, Bea has to tear her eyes away from Ava in order to keep control. But as she starts to walk away, leaving her to her obviously much needed rest, a small sounds stops Bea in her tracks. She turns back to see Ava’s eyes scrunch tighter, the rhythm of her breaths changing as her face twists into a distressed frown and her brows furrow slightly. The older woman immediately knows what’s going on and her suspicions are confirmed a moment later when Ava lets out a few more whimpers and starts tossing around, twisting herself deeper into the blankets as she continues to sleep.

She is having a nightmare. Bea knows them all too well. Many a night she would either wake up to a still dreaming Ava who thrashed around or a shaking Ava who had been startled awake by her night terrors. Each and every time, Beatrice is there to comfort her and it always works. Bea has learned that if she holds the Halo Barer tight and whispers soft reassurances in her ear, Ava always calms down in moments and is usually back to sleep not long after.

Reaching out a hand to gently cup her face, Bea lets her fingers graze along her cheek before ending up tangling them in the other girl’s soft, sandy brown hair. Her fingers gently scratch against her scalp in a soothing way that Ava must recognizes even in her sleep because she stops moving, quiets down and is breathing normally not even a minute later.

However, as Ava starts to relax, Beatrice’s worry only increases. The second she had touched her hand to Ava’s cheek, she’d noticed a strong heat radiating off her skin and when she felt her hair, it was slightly damp from sweat. Now Bea also notices the small beads of sweat that drip from Ava’s temples and the harsh pink blush that paints her cheeks behind her paler than normal skin.

Moving her hand to her forehead, Bea confirms that Ava is sporting a rather large fever. Everything clicks into place now and Bea sighs. She’s sick. “What am I going to do with you, Ava?” Bea speaks barely above a whisper as she gently slides her hand back down to Ava’s cheek, her fingertips as delicate as a butterfly’s touch.

It’s a useless question. Bea knows exactly what she’s going to do, she’s good at this sort of stuff. She’s going to take care of Ava to the best of her abilities. With yet another sigh, a thought bubbles in her mind. She should have known this was a possibility. While The Order doesn’t know everything about the Halo, they know it grants the barer extraordinary abilities, the ability to heal and come back from the dead. But since whatever bug Ava has isn’t life threatening, the Halo must not be doing much to ward off the sickness.

Silently, Bea carefully takes her finger from Ava’s face and walks to the door, but Ava, who must be sensing the lack of her presence, makes Bea stop in her tacks for the second time when she hears a small groan from behind her. “bea?” Ava’s voice is a raspy whisper that makes her throat catch, sending her into a small coughing fit. In the blink of an eye, Bea is by her side, her hand rubbing the girl’s back as the fit forces her into a sitting position.

“Shhh, you’re okay, breathe for me, Ava.” Beatrice takes slow, deep breaths, gently urging Ava to follow suit and soon the fit fades away. Bea holds Ava tight as she slumps against her strong body. Ava tries to murmuring something but with her dry throat and strong fever, it comes out as a raspy mix of slurred words that Bea can’t make out.

“What was that, darling?” Bea finds herself saying before she can stop herself from using the pet name, which fall from her lips so naturally, as if she’d been calling her that for years and not for the first time ever. Ava doesn’t seem to notice or react in anyway and Bea wonders if the feverish girl even hear her at all, but then Ava shifts slightly against her chest, her lips parting. “Can I have some water, please?” She whispers in a strained rasp that makes Bea wince ever so slightly at how painful it sounds. “Of course.” She speaks softly back, making quick work of untangling herself from Ava’s heavy limps and moving her so that she’s lying gently back against the pillows.

“I’ll be just a moment.” She promises, her fingers brushing a small, damp strand of hair from Ava’s face before walking to the apartment’s adjoining kitchen. Bea glances at Ava and sees her watching her, though her eyes flutter, fighting to stay open. Bea makes sure to stay in her view as she gathers a glass of water, some medicine and a cool damp cloth.

Ava watches Bea, never taking her eyes off her though it was getting harder and harder to keep them open. She’s not sure what’s going on or why she feels like this. Like she’d gotten super drunk then hit by a bus and punched into a wall. Ava tries to sit up a little straighter as Bea walks back over. She can see the worry on the older girl’s face. Ava hates that look. She hates to worry people. Hates being a burden. So she flails against the pillows for a moment, trying to get her clumsy limbs to cooperate until she’s sitting up a little more than before. Her chest feels heavy as she breathes and she’s surprised at how little energy she has after such a small movement.

As Bea approaches the small twin bed, she places a small tray on the side table, carefully holding a cup of water out to Ava. Ava mentally wills her arms to work as she reaches for the glass but Bea shakes her head, gently lowering Ava’s hands back down to her lap before bringing the glass to her dry lips. Ava takes a few slow sips, the cool water momentarily dulling the dry ache in her throat. She closes her eyes as she takes a few more and for a moment she thinks she should feel like she’s back at St. Michael’s, being bitterly taken care of by the old nuns, but she doesn’t. She wonders why the familiar action isn’t stirring up her trauma, until she opens her eyes again and meets the soft, caring gaze of Beatrice.

Beatrice. That’s the difference. Ava has never felt uncomfortable in her best friend’s presence nor has she ever felt like a burden to the quiet girl who seems to be a natural at taking are of her in a numerous amount of ways.

Ava pouts when Bea lifts the glass away from her lips and if she’d been more aware, she might have noticed the small flicker of a smile appearing and disappearing in the corner of Bea’s lips. “You have to take it slow, okay, Ava?” She sees Bea’s lips move but doesn’t quite register her words so she just nods slightly, willing to trust anything and everything that Bea has to offer. She really hasn’t known Beatrice all that long, but she’s the best friend Ava has ever had and she knows without a doubt that she would follow Bea to the end of the Earth if she’d ask her to. Ava feels her eyelids grown heavier, each passing second proving harder and harder to keep them open.

“No no, Ava wait.” She faintly registers someone’s soft voice say her name and she forces her eyes open to see a blurry Bea in front of her. Ava offers a small and her head droops slightly but she feels gentle fingers tilt it back up. “Just a moment, Ava. Then I promise you can sleep, okay?” Bea’s accented voice cuts through her foggy brain. She nods weakly, blinking fast to try and un-blurr her vision.

“Swallow this please.” Bea speaks and Ava opens her mouth, feeling Bea place a small pill on her tongue and for a second, panic swells inside her, her eyes widening, but her friend is quick to calm her. “It’s alright, Ava. I promise it’s only going to help you feel better, to help with that fever of yours.” Beatrice hums sincerely with a nod then holds the water back t Ava’s lips. “Good girl.” Bea praises when she drinks and swallows, coughing slightly as the pill feels like a rick in her tight throat. “Just rest now, Ava. Your body needs sleep.” Ava nods, her eyes already closing as she shifts to lay back down.

“Wait, Bea?” Ava mumbles, not sure what the other woman’s plan was, but hoping it doesn’t involve leaving. “Yes, Ava?” She sighs in relief when she hears Bea’s soft answer. “Wi-will you stay with me?” She pleads and immediately feels the bed dip as Bea sits down near her feet.

“Of course. I’m not going anywhere, Ava. I promise.” Bea’s words are enough for Ava to finally relax completely and she no sooner feels something soft and cool being set gently to her forehead. It feels so good against her hot skin. But as much as her body yearns for sleep, there’s something missing, something off, keeping her awake.

After a few minutes, Beatrice can tell she hasn’t fallen asleep yet and for a moment, she isn’t sure what to do before her desire gets the best of her and she place’s her hand gently to Ava’s flushed cheek, her thumb once more grazing along her fevered skin. “Is there anything else you need?” She hums quietly as to not startle the sleepy woman. Ava is silent for a minute and Bea almost thinks she’s fallen asleep after all but then she speaks, her voice tired, slurred and maybe even a little shy.

“Will you hold me?” Ava whispers and Bea’s breath hitches slightly at her request, her heart beating a bit faster as Ava’s hand reaches out to find her own. “Please?” She adds and Be mentally kicks herself for taking too long to answer and making Ava think she wouldn’t. Of course she would. She would do anything for the woman laying in front of her. Bea smiles at Ava who looks up at her with such pleading that it breaks her heart. She nods. “Of course, Ava.” She immediately moves to get into bed next to the now contented Halo Barer. Ava’s face visibly lights up when Bea does so.

The nun pulls the blanket around them, tucking it cozily around Ava as the exhausted woman lets out a happy sigh and leans into the warmth of her friend’s comforting arms. Her head rests atop her chest and she closes her eyes. Bea’s impossibly delicate fingers start to soothingly massage her head and as awful as Ava feels, she decides right here and now that there’s no where else she’d rather be than with Bea and her kind, gentle, loving touch that she’d been void of her while life brings her an immeasurable amount of peace.

As she drifts off to sleep, a faint thought settles it’s way into her head, whether it was in a dream or not she didn’t know, but she wonders if this could possibly be more, if they could ever be more and with that, she feels Bea softly kiss her hair before sleep finally welcomes her body home.

[dreadsuitsamus]

Hi! Can I request a human!reader teaching Goku how to cook so he can impress Chi-Chi? I love to cook myself, so I thought it'd be a cute idea!

Bone App the Teeth | Goku & Reader |

author's note: i was actually in the process of writing a goku fic when i got this request! i also happen to think it's a cute idea and absolutely love the idea of goku and the reader being old pals spending an afternoon together to get goku out of the doghouse :p i hope you don't mind i added a slight bit of vegeta x reader as a background pairing to add more to the story!

pairing: goku &fem!reader (it's platonic!) vegeta x fem!reader, goku x chi-chi

warnings: goku being a terribly cute student, vegeta being a little jealous, small mention of trying for pregnancy, in general just some fluff between two old friends!

You're reading on the couch when you get Goku's phone call. He's speaking incredibly fast and fumbling his words, which sounds alarm bells in your head. It can't be something super serious, after all, since you would definitely not be the first person he'd call for help. You set aside your book and take a deep breath.

"GOKU!" You yell, succeeding in getting him to stop talking for a moment.

"Why'd you yell at me?" He whines pathetically.

"So I could tell you to slow down and start over!"

"Oh, sorry about that!" Goku laughs and then sighs. "I really need your help."

"Tell me what's up."

From there Goku launches into a tale of what essentially boils down to him needing a way back into Chi-Chi's good graces after an incident the night before. He didn't go super in detail, but to you it sounded like he'd gone and ruined dinner last night with his ravenous Saiyan appetite, and he wanted to make it up to his dear wife.

Only problem was, he had no idea how to cook.

"So that's where you come in!" Goku says, and you can literally hear that big smile on his face. "So whaddya say? Can you help me?"

"Of course I will!" You smile. "Come on over and-"

"I'm here!" Goku now stands in front of you, hands on his hips and his eyes smiling, no doubt excited to make up his mistake to Chi-Chi.

You scream, holding your hand to your chest. "Goku! You can't just-"

There's the sound of shouting from outside, and then Vegeta is suddenly in the living room. "Who the hell dares attack my w- Oh, it's Kakarot." He scowls, arms crossed over his chest.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare ya!" Goku rubs the back of his neck. "Hey best buddy!" He waves at Vegeta.

"No." Vegeta glares at Goku. "Why are you in my house?"

You stand up, your heart back to a normal beat. "I'm teaching him how to cook, sweetie. Would you like to join us?"

"Tch. I'll pass." Vegeta turns and heads out to resume his training. You shake your head and pat Goku's arm and lead him to the kitchen.

"So, when do you think you'd wanna make this meal for Chi-Chi?"

"As soon as possible!" Goku says. "I wanna make something she'll love."

"Hmm..." You put a curled finger to your lip, thumb pressed to your chin as you consider something that you know your longtime friend loves. "Last time she and I went out with Bulma, we went to this really nice restaurant and she tried something called 'chicken cordon bleu' and she said she really, really liked it."

"Chicken what?"

"Cordon bleu." You repeat. "It's a simple dish that I think you'll be able to make just fine! It's chicken wrapped around ham and cheese, which is then breaded and fried or baked. I've had it a several times before myself and it really is a tasty dish."

"Then let's get to it!"

You smile softly. "Alright, let me make sure I've got everything we'll need first."

You hum softly and start looking through your refrigerator and cupboards, Goku scratching his head as you pull more and more out onto the kitchen island. "I thought you said this was simple."

"It is, I promise. Most of this is just seasoning that's gonna make it taste better."

Goku grins. "In that case, the more the merrier!"

"That's the spirit." You chuckle and fish out everything else, happy that you didn't have to lug Goku to the grocery store. (Or worse, be instant transmissioned there with him.)

"First, we wash our hands." You remove your wedding ring and set it aside, and Goku washes his hands right after you. "And now we'll prep our chicken."

As you show Goku how to properly clean and prep the chicken thighs you had tucked in the fridge, Vegeta peeks inside through the window above the sink, a frown on his face. He sees your wedding ring off to the side and scoffs. He knew he should've gotten you one with a larger diamond...

He swears to himself and flies away, angrily punching a tree before going into the training room Bulma had built for him in your backyard. (In actuality she'd built it for you, knowing full well how irritating her ex could be at times so you could shoo him away to train when he was on your nerves.)

Back into the kitchen, you've just laid a piece of plastic wrap over one of the pieces of chicken. "Okay, you'll probably like this part. The chicken is too thick to roll up, so we need to take this little meat mallet and flatten it out."

"Oh, I can do that easily!" Goku picks up the mallet and smacks it against the poor piece of chicken, splitting it in half. "Uh... Oops?"

You rub your forehead. "Not so hard, Goku."

You set him up to try again, and this time he tones down his strength and flattens the chicken with the mallet until you stop him. He smiles, proud of his handiwork, and repeats the process until there's no more chicken to flatten.

"You've always been a quick study." You comment fondly and clean up the island to move to the next step, encouraging him to add some more seasoning to the kitchen while you set up the ham and swiss cheese.

"This part here is probably the hardest thing about the recipe, and it's still super easy."

Goku nods and his eyes are trained on your hands after he's washed and dried his again. You lay out two layers of ham and cheese and then carefully pinch in the sides of the chicken and roll it up, leaving the seam side down against the plate. "After we roll them up we'll bread them and get them in the oven."

"Okay!" Goku smiles and attempts rolling one up himself, but some of the filling ends up sticking out. You unroll it and put your hands over his, helping him to keep it all together like the one you had previously rolled. "Keep it neat, Goku. Presentation matters!"

"I guess that's true." He concedes. "Chi-Chi makes the most delicious looking food! And it smells good... But most of all, it tastes good!"

"And that's why we're gonna give all three of those qualities right back!" Goku's smile makes you laugh, your chest light and mind at ease. You always loved having one-on-one time with your friend.

You wash your hands again while Goku very carefully rolls all the chicken up, setting up the breadcrumbs and mixing them with paprika, and then adding some water to beaten eggs. Goku's just finished with his latest step and instinctively washes his hands, rushing back to the island and bouncing with eagerness.

"How much left?"

"Almost there, buddy. Now we're gonna dip them into this egg mixture and roll it in the breadcrumbs after, and after that they go into the baking dish!"

"Chi-Chi's gonna love this." Goku smiles and takes initiative this time, picking up a piece of the chicken and dipping it in the eggs. You instruct him to let some of the excess drip off and then switch hands to roll in the breadcrumbs.

"A wet hand and a dry hand is the best way to bread something. It keeps things as clean as possible." You explain, greasing a casserole dish. "Maybe next time we make this I'll teach you how to pan-fry, but today we'll stick with baking the chicken."

"Oooh, getting stronger in the kitchen? I like the sound of that."

You laugh and the two of you finish prepping the meal in a companionable silence. You think back to when you met Goku all those years ago. You'd reunited with Chi-Chi, an old friend you hadn't seen since childhood, and learned that she was married to none other than the boy she was adamant was going to marry her even back in the day. Goku was looking around, undoubtedly bored, and complaining about being hungry. That's when you'd invited them over for dinner, and ever since then Goku would come over for a meal anytime he was hungry after Chi-Chi had closed down the kitchen for the night.

"Thank you for doing this." Goku says softly after he's washed his hands for the last time. "You're really helping me out here. You're always here when I need you. You're really the best."

You smile at your old friend. "You've saved the world countless times, Goku. I'll help you with anything, cooking or not, anytime. Hell, you're the reason Vegeta and I got together. I basically owe you the whole world for that alone."

Vegeta, who has come back to listen at the window after being unable to focus on his training, crosses his arms and smirks proudly. For all the times you roll your eyes, mutter things under your breath and ignore him as he rants about his Saiyan pride... You still find him worth more than the world. With that, he stands and strides into the kitchen and grabs your waist, pulling you in and pressing a firm kiss to your temple before striding right back to train, this time his mind clear.

You raise a brow, and Goku can't help but laugh. "I don't wanna throw him under the bus, but..."

"He was listening at the window." You conclude, shaking your head fondly.

Goku helps you wash dishes and the two of you trade stories you've both heard hundreds of times before, laughing so much that Goku has to catch you from falling onto the floor at one point. You wipe your eyes, body still shaking from laughter, and then dry your hands, clearing your throat.

"Alright, now we'll make the sauce for the chicken and make some rice, and then you should be good to go."

You set Goku up to grate the parmesan and you fix the rice up in the rice cooker, and with some dijon mustard, butter, flour and milk, you help Goku make a lovely sauce. You get some on a spoon and hold it out to Goku, whose eyes light up at the flavor. "Man, you never stop amazing me with your skills!"

"I'd hope not, since I used to be a chef." You laugh.

"I've been meaning to ask why you stopped." Goku sits on one of the island stools while you start fixing up a quick pot of green beans.

You chop up a bit of bacon and onions, adding them to the pot with some garlic. "Well, for starters, I was just so stressed and tired all the time, which was fine when I was single. But then when I got married and became a step-mother it just wasn't working well anymore. When I'd get home, I'd start arguing with Vegeta and it wasn't healthy for our marriage, not to mention I wasn't getting much quality time with Trunks. Plus, I wasn't getting to go to birthday parties or holiday gatherings anymore since I started working at my last restaurant. And when Vegeta said he was wanting to have kids..."

Goku's eyes widen. "Wait, really? Vegeta wants another kid?"

You smile softly. "He does. I'm sure Trunks would love a sibling."

"That's really great!" Goku grins. "I'm happy for you guys."

"Thanks, Goku. Not pregnant yet, but we're working on it." You add some tomatoes and then the green beans to the pot, stirring and then leaving it to simmer. You turn and sit on another stool, opening a drawer on the island and pulling out a game of cards.

"It'll be some time before everything is ready, so why don't we play your favorite card game?"

Goku gasps. "Yes, I love Go Fish!"

You laugh and deal the cards out, and after a few games (poor Goku never stands a chance against you) you pack up his meal to take home to Chi-Chi and Goten. "You're all set, bub."

Before he teleports home, Goku gives you one last hug, and you smile and hug your friend back tightly. He presses a quick kiss to your head and pulls back, picking up the containers and within a flash, he's back home to set up for Chi-Chi.

You're in bed with Vegeta that night when you get Goku's next phone call.

"She loved it!"

[starhaloequinox]

Momentary Dinner

Crossposted on Ao3. Mother's day Fic but is not posted on Mother's day on tumblr.

A girl with blue grey hair went over to the kitchen where she was cooking food from her Homeland. She checked the food inside the pot, lifting the cover and feeling the hot steam on her face as she peered down to see if they were ready. The food looked just about right and ready to be eaten, so she turned off the stove's heat, lifted the pot and placed its contents into a different bowl, bringing this last pot over to the table that had already had their food readied. "Master, dinner is ready." She called her master.

"Yes, I will be with you shortly." A woman with similarly colored hair replied from above in her study. She closes the laptop she was working on, fixes her papers to be neatly stacked up, and heads down stairs to eat.

Descending down the stairs she could already smell the food Lixue cooked up. “Mmm, it smells lovely, Lixue.” As she enters she takes a whiff of the kitchen, which has the strongest scent in the house, her Lixue’s cooking.

Though she wasn't home often, she treasured everything her Lixue makes for her and everything she's achieved.

The two of them sat on the opposite side of the dining table, their table wasn't big, they didn't expect guests to come by often as the ones living in this house weren't very social people, and matters they have to attend to happen outside and not indoors, so something small and comfortable was enough.

Lixue had made a feast for them tonight, there was food from their Homeland and food that came from other countries. "Lixue, where did you learn to cook these dishes?" Fu Hua questioned, as she had never taught her how to cook western foods.

"Ah…a friend —a colleague— of mine taught me how to make them." She looks down on her food. 2 days before she had asked the girls from the Snow Wolf Squad for recipes from their home countries to cook for this day, she wanted to savor this day and enjoy it with her master.

After a while they chatted about anything that's gone on in their lives, Lixue had been so busy with Schicksal and her master being away very often left little to no chance to have a get together. So these moments were sparse yet cherished.

“The soup you made is wonderful…” her master smiled as she took another sip of the soup.

She felt like crying, this moment didn't feel real to her at all, the smile her master had on was genuine and true.

At this moment she was happy.

[gentlemancowboy]

For @sobernatural’s milestone party. Congrats on 2k, Sana ♡ Here’s a silly little fic in which Dean adopts a cat and Cas doesn’t handle it very well.

Read on ao3

Things were more or less back to normal, or about as normal as could be expected given everything that had happened. Chuck was gone. Jack was running Heaven. Castiel now had his very own room back at the Bunker (though he still didn’t sleep).

But Castiel didn’t know where he fit in Dean’s life now that his feelings were out in the open. He loved Dean more fiercely than he ever thought possible. That was one thing that hadn’t changed, and he knew it never would. He was content to love Dean unrequitedly until the day he ceased to exist. He had made his peace with that. And yet…

It was selfish, really, and he knew it. But Castiel had hoped that eventually, Dean would say something—anything—on the subject, one way or another. He could live with knowing, no matter what that knowledge provided. But since his daring rescue from the Empty, after Dean had wrapped Cas in his arms with a, “Let’s get you home,” Dean had resorted to ignoring the elephant in the room completely. So here was Castiel, biting his tongue and reminding himself that just being with Dean was enough.

That is, until Dean brings home a stray kitten that he’d found wandering outside the Bunker.

“Dean, you’re allergic to cats,” Castiel had reminded him when he first found Dean cradling the shaggy, matted calico in his arms. “You can’t possibly want to keep her.”

“Minor inconvenience,” Dean had replied, eyes already red and puffy. “They have those allergy shots now, don’t they?”

Castiel had met this response with an eye roll, but because he would do anything to make Dean happy, had reached out and summoned a small amount of his remaining Grace to cure Dean of his so called “minor inconvenience.”

So that’s how Carmen Electra became the newest occupant of the Bunker. And Castiel was finding it… difficult to adjust.

It isn’t that Castiel doesn’t like cats. He actually has a special propensity for these particular creatures compared to their dog counterparts (Miracle, for instance, still growls at Castiel whenever he enters a room). And Carmen is a good cat. She loves to curl up in your lap, and follow you around the Bunker. She chirps at you any time she wants something to eat or a belly rub, and she never scratches at the furniture.

Even so, Castiel had been feeling slightly out of sorts since Carmen’s arrival, and for a reason he couldn’t quite place, “just being” with Dean was become something that was easier said than done.

It all comes to a head one day when Castiel finds himself in the kitchen with Sam and Dean.

Dean had just finishing feeding Carmen her favorite meal of salmon in gravy, and was now retreating to the library, Carmen following hot on his heels. Cas looks after them and scowls without really meaning to.

“Man, I never pegged you for a cat critic,” Sam says with a small chuckle.

“I am actually quite partial to cats,” Castiel replies, still looking off into the hallway where Dean has just disappeared, before turning to give Sam a weak smile.

“Huh, could have fooled me,” Sam shrugs, but then seems to dwell on it for another moment. “Wait, are you jealous?”

“Carmen likes me just as much as she likes Dean,” Castiel says as he gathers up the dirty dishes and places them in the sink.

“Cas. I don’t mean jealous of Dean,” Sam pauses. “I mean jealous of Carmen.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Sam,” but Castiel’s cheeks are suddenly burning hot, and he’s glad his back is now to Sam. He clears his throat. “What reason would I possibly have to be jealous of a cat?”

“Gee, I don’t know, Cas.” Castiel can hear the amusement in Sam’s voice. “Maybe because she’s taking all of Dean’s attention?”

“Kittens require a lot of care,” Castiel says through gritted teeth. “I think it’s nice that Dean is taking on that responsibility.”

Sam snorts. “Okay. Sure. Whatever you say.” And that ends the conversation.

Except, Castiel spends the rest of the day thinking about what Sam said. Is that what he’s been feeling? Jealousy? He knows he’s experienced similar feels when Dean has mentioned, well, any of his past romantic prospects. But that’s not what Carmen is at all. So what’s he jealous of?

He’s still mulling it over when he walks past Dean’s room later that evening and stops short at the conversation he overhears through the half-open door.

“Come on, Carmen. Catch the string. Can you ca—there you go! What a good little hunter you are. Yes, you are! Love my smart little hunter!”

And Castiel doesn’t know what comes over him, but suddenly he can’t help himself. He bursts through the door, causing Dean and Carmen to startle.

“So, is that what I need to do?”

Dean stares up at Castiel from his seat on the floor next to Carmen, seemingly thrown by Castiel’s hostile tone.

“Uh, I don’t…” confusion is written all over Dean’s beautiful, stupid face. “I’m not sure what you’re asking me here, Cas.”

Castiel huffs and gestures to Carmen, currently batting at the piece of yarn Dean is still dangling in front of her.

“That. What she’s doing.”

Dean blinks twice. He looks at Carmen. He looks at Castiel. “Who, the cat?”

“Yes, Dean, the cat.”

"Uhhh, still not sure what the question is."

“Do I need to roll over on the floor? Do I need to play with a ball of yarn?” Castiel can feel himself getting more and more exasperated but he can’t seem to stop himself. “Do I need to chase my tail? Do I need to… to… lick my own ass?! Is that what I need to do, Dean?”

Castiel is vibrating. With rage? Embarrassment? He’s not quite sure, but Dean is suddenly standing in front of him, hands on his shoulders, and Castiel’s head snaps to face him. Dean is looking utterly bewildered.

“Hey, hey slow down, okay?” Castiel feels himself begin to relax under Dean’s grip. “Deep breaths, okay?”

Castiel inhales slowly, followed by a shaky exhale. He continues to match Dean’s exaggerated breathing.

“Now, you wanna try that again?” Dean finally says, giving Castiel’s arms a light squeeze, letting them slowly graze down the length of his arms before dropping to rest at his sides. And Castiel suddenly feels impossibly small.

“What do I need to do for you to love me?”

It comes out as barely a whisper, and Castiel can’t believe the words are even his. Dean freezes, his eyes going wide. He takes an uneasy step back, out of Castiel’s space.

“I, uh…” Dean swallows down his unspoken words, and here is goes. Castiel knew this day would come eventually. He should have been content to just be, because now he’s not sure if the knowing is worth it.

“Cas, I don’t know how to say this...”

Castiel’s stomach drops.

“Right. I understand, Dean.” He steps further away from Dean, head down.

“Agh, wait no. Ah, shit.” Dean fumbles trying to grab Castiel’s arm and catches a handful of his sweatshirt instead. He pulls Castiel back towards him but doesn’t loosen his grip. When Castiel meets his eye, Dean is staring earnestly back.

“That came out wrong. Can you just, hold on. Can you sit down?” Dean asks, guiding Castiel down to the edge of the bed. Dean starts pacing back and forth across the room, muttering to himself. He looks to the ceiling and takes a deep breath in before turning to face Castiel.

“I’m, uh, not very good at this,” Dean rubs at the back of his neck. “You know, talking about feelings and stuff.”

“Dean, you don’t have—“

“No, Cas. I do,” Dean interrupts him, and Castiel snaps his mouth shut. He scans Dean’s face for some tell, but for the first time, he’s having trouble reading his expression.

“So, the thing is, I didn’t know you could feel that way, you know? Especially about, well, me. And then suddenly you did and then you were gone and when you got back I… I don’t know. I still couldn’t believe it. Especially because I had spent so long telling myself I would never have you like that, have you feel the way I did but I… shit man, if you’re asking what you need to do for me to love you, you don’t need to do a damn thing because… I already love you. I love you so much it’s actually kinda stupid, and I didn’t know what to do with that at first but—“

And Castiel is suddenly on his feet, closing the space between them and he doesn’t hear anything else Dean is saying, all he hears is Dean’s sharp inhale as their lips collide and all he feels is Dean’s body pressed against his and then their mouths are dancing together and their hands are in each other’s hair and it’s heated and urgent and perfect.

When they finally break apart, Castiel is seeing stars, and Dean is laughing.

“Jesus, man,” Dean finally catches his breath, and frames Castiel’s face with his hands. “I can’t believe you thought I loved a cat more than you.”

And from the ground, wrapping herself around both their legs, Carmen gives an affirmative meow.

[babygirlwolverine]

Many special happy birthdays today! Happy birthday Cas! And happy birthday to @you-cant-spell-subtext-without and @reblogging4thewin!

"There's been a lot of firsts this year," Dean said, pushing a pumpkin across their outdoor table towards Cas with a soft smile.

Cas traced his hand along the ridges of the pumpkin; the one he'd picked with Dean at the pumpkin patch that morning. Even though Dean had said it was far too early in the season for pumpkins, he'd still smiled warmly as Cas wandered around the maze of fruits choosing the ones he wanted.

Shifting his eyes to the orange and yellow pansies and dahlias they'd both just spent the last hour planting, Cas let out a content hum. Every day felt like a new first, and Cas wanted a million more firsts with Dean.

"And today is one of those firsts?" Cas asked, even though he knew it was. He'd known from the moment he'd opened his eyes that morning; a single rose perched on his nightstand with a little note from Dean that said, 'Meet me in the kitchen, handsome.'

Pancakes with syrup and French Toast covered their newly painted sky-blue kitchen table, and when Dean had pulled him into a soft kiss, Cas had almost melted at the tender way Dean's fingers stroked along his jaw. "Happy birthday, Cas," Dean had murmured against his lips, and God, Cas swore he fell even more in love with Dean at that moment.

"Yes, today is one of those firsts," Dean said, shaking Cas from his reminiscing of their morning together. He watched for a moment as Dean picked up a knife and cut along the top of the pumpkin until he could reach inside.

"And why is that?" Cas asked, copying Dean's motions until he'd taken the top of the pumpkin off and started to spoon out the pulp into the bowl Dean had brought outside for them. Something about wanting to use the pulp to make Cas a pumpkin cake for his birthday. When Dean had proposed the idea that morning of baking a pumpkin cake for him, the thought had been so endearing that Cas had leaned across the kitchen table to kiss Dean once… okay maybe twice. Alright, maybe a dozen times. Maybe he just liked kissing Dean.

Now, Dean reached out across their patio table, locking their fingers together until their rings clinked against each other. "It's the first time we're really celebrating your birthday. 13 years ago you came into my life and became part of this family. And now it's special because this is the first time we're celebrating your birthday as husbands."

As if to emphasize the words, Dean tugged on Cas' hand until he could brush his lips over the ring on Cas' finger. Their hands were messy from the pumpkins but Cas didn't care. Not when Dean's lips pressed so tenderly against his ring finger before light kisses were dotted across his knuckles.

"The first time we're celebrating Halloween together, here, in our first home," Dean continued, gesturing to the pumpkins they were carving into Jack-o-lanterns. Decorating together even though Halloween was still weeks away, because they could do that now. Here, in their little house they were slowly renovating. Here, where they were starting their future together. They could celebrate anything they wanted.

A cool breeze wrapped around them, causing red and orange leaves to dance along the grass and up towards the table. The perfect autumn weather.

Cas was happy. Really happy. And he'd known that for a while, but the slow-drawn realization was enough to steal the air from Cas' lungs. When he looked up at Dean, it was like seeing him again for the first time; a bright radiating soul bursting with love and potential. When Cas had first laid eyes on him, he'd had no idea what that potential was going to blossom into. That it would create love and happiness and family.

"When is Jack coming back home?" Cas asked, suddenly filled with an urge to have his family close, not because they were in danger, but just because he loved them.

"Sam and Eileen said they'd bring him back from their last minute birthday shopping trip in less than an hour. So we'd better hurry up and carve these pumpkins so we can get some space for them to make their own Jack-o-lanterns when they get back," Dean said.

And there was that smile again on Dean's face. The same soft smile had been on his lips all day, as if Dean was seeing him for the first time in a whole new light. Awe and adoration. Love and sheer bliss.

Thirty minutes later, they were still carving pumpkins (they might've gotten a little distracted when Dean tugged Cas around the table and pulled him down until he could kiss Cas slow and deep) Jack came bounding into the garden with a large bag in his hands. "Happy birthday, Dad," Jack said, placing the bag in front of Cas. Wiping his hands on a towel, Cas reached into the bag and pulled out a collection of gardening tools designed with bees. Handles on tools shaped like bees, overalls with little bees dancing across the material, and a small ceramic bee to keep in the flowerbed. "Your two favorite things, bees and gardening."

Cas felt his heart swell in his chest, and he placed a gentle kiss on Jack's forehead. "Thank you, Jack."

"Alright, Kid, grab a pumpkin and let's get craving. Unless you don't want to help me bake Cas' birthday cake?" Dean teased.

Jack quickly scrambled to grab a pumpkin, sitting down next to Cas and copying him as he began to carve his pumpkin.

Sam and Eileen quickly joined the carving festivities, until 5 large pumpkins had been carved and a massive bowl had been filled with pulp and seeds. The pumpkins were decorated with ghosts and faces, sigils and even their names. Dean nudged his carved pumpkin over to Cas, and Cas felt that overwhelming love burning in his chest again. Dean and Cas Winchester was carved into the pumpkin; a little candle flickering inside and lighting their names up in a warm glow. Just another reminder they really were married. Cas kissed Dean like he had on their wedding night; achingly slow and full of every last drop of his love.

Baking the cake turned into a family affair, with Cas watching from the kitchen table and laughing as everyone made a mess. Dean kept sneaking over to Cas and kissing him every few minutes, until Cas snagged Dean and pulled him down into the chair; watching Jack and Eileen decorating the cake, which included Jack shoving as many candles as he could into the top with a playful laugh.

Wishes were made, cake was eaten, and Cas felt more loved than he'd ever imagined he could feel.

Once the festivities had wound down, with Jack off to bed and Sam and Eileen back at their own home, Cas sat in the kitchen watching as Dean cleaned the dishes. He ran his fingers over the handle of the Angel blade Dean had gifted him this morning; tracing his fingertips over the engraving.

Cas Winchester. Husband. Father. Brother. Angel, you are our family.

The gifting of the blade wasn't lost on Cas; a callback to Dean stabbing him in the heart 13 years ago. Except now, all these years later, Dean has gone and stolen his heart. And Cas wouldn't have it any other way.

When Dean joined him at the table a few minutes later, tilting Cas' head to nudge him into a breathtaking kiss, Cas sighed blissfully. "I love you,” he whispered.

Dean shook his head, kissing Cas again and again until Cas felt dizzy. “I love you. Happy birthday, Cas.”

[anneimaginesundertale]

hello!! can you do underfell asgore where asgore gradually falls in love after you comfort him?

You were just a cog in the monster embassy’s machine. You had a job title, but really your job was to provide all the higher ups with snacks and drinks. You filled the vending machines. You ordered the tea and the coffee. You made sure the candy dishes were filled. You also went around and collected the dirty dishes and brought them back to the cafeteria to get cleaned. It wasn’t a bad job. You got to try a lot of cool monster food and your tea collection had doubled since you started. You also got to see some of the most important monsters around, even if you were just cleaning up after them. Your days followed a predictable routine and you were pretty happy.

One morning, as you went around with your dish cart, collecting coffee mugs, plates, and tea cups, you heard sobbing from the king’s office. The door was open just a crack. The sound tugged at your heart. You had never met the king, had never even been in his office, but you couldn’t just walk by. You pushed your cart up against the wall, out of the way, and carefully pushed the door open.

The king of monsters knelt on the floor by the window, his great head bowed. You could see his tears falling onto the dark carpet. He didn’t seem to hear you come in. The sight of him made you want to rush to his side, but he didn’t know you. You couldn’t just go and hug him, even if it seemed that a hug was exactly what he needed. You settled for saying, “Your Majesty?”

He looked up at you, his red eyes filled with sorrow. “What are you doing in here?” he snarled, running his great hands across his face to wipe the tears away. “No one comes in here without my permission.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I was coming around to get tea things and I heard you crying. You left your door ajar, sir, and…I just wanted to see if you were all right.”

“Of course I’m all right.” He adjusted his crimson cloak and stomped to sit behind the desk. The chair creaked as he sat down. “Next time you hear sounds from inside this office, walk by. No one comes in here without my permission.”

You nodded. You regretted your decision to come in in the first place. It wasn’t any of your business, even if he had been crying. “I won’t do it again, sire,” you said. “I’ll go now.” You headed for the door.

“Wait,” he said, just as your hand touched the knob. You turned and looked back at him.

“You bring the tea.”

“Yes.”

“Bring me a pot.”

“Yes sir. Right away, sir.”

He nodded and you took it as a dismissal. You scurried back into the hall and closed the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once you were gone, the king laid his head on the desk and covered his face with his hands. You had caught him in a moment of weakness. In the midst of his grief, you could have come in and murdered him. He would not have noticed you if you hadn’t spoken. And yet, you had spoken, and you’d spoken kindly. You’d clearly only come in to check if he was all right. He could not think of the last time someone had done that.

The pot of golden flower tea appeared outside his door, prepared exactly the way he liked it. There was a small note on the tray, just the word “Sorry” in slightly messy handwriting. Asgore tucked the note into a drawer in his desk.

Over the next few months, he found he could not get you out of his head. He began to notice when you came around to bring him tea or take his empty trays away. He made excuses to leave his office to watch you walking the halls. It didn’t take him long to realize that you knew everyone. You knew them and their food and drink preferences. You were always polite and kind, even when some of the monsters fussed or shouted at you. He began to try to find a reason to speak with you. Some days he just said thank you for the tea. Some days he asked you a question. Why were you wearing that shirt? You changed your hair. Why? Small things. Small questions. Small compliments.

Eventually, there came a day when you spoke to him first. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” you said. “We’re out of golden flower tea today. I’ve ordered more, and I’ll run home on my lunch and get some from my stash, but I had to make you something else this morning. It’s pretty similar. I hope it’s okay.” You held out the tray for him and he could see you shaking just a bit.

“You like tea?” he asked, taking the tray. Whatever you had brewed smelled sweet.

“I love tea,” you said. “I didn’t really get into it until I took this job, but now I’ve got all kinds at home.”

“Come in and tell me about this.” He spoke it as an order, then belated added, “Please.” You followed him into his office. He offered you a chair. You sat. The two of you had your first real conversation. By the time you realized you had to get back to your rounds, an hour had passed and the tea pot was empty.

“I’ll bring you another pot this afternoon,” you said as you hurried out the door. “Golden flower next time, from my personal stash.”

“That would be fine,” Asgore said. “I will look forward to it.” He smiled at you and you smiled back, and something stirred in his chest that had not stirred for quite some time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That’s where I’m going to leave it for right now, but you can bet that these two keep bonding over tea. Eventually Reader will walk in on Asgore crying again and this time they won’t hesitate to hug him.

[roscgcld]

ZEN’IN NAOYA || husband’s duty

request: omg if it is okay can i ask for a part 2 of sweet little things ���

note: you definitely can, love! honestly this definitely cracked my head a little since we didn’t get to explore naoya too much as a character, underneath all that complexity that makes him up as the man we saw in the manga. But I am not gonna sit here and say I do not simp for him AHAHAHA - that would be a huge lie. But we shall see, no? I feel like I made him too soft though, but I live for soft!Naoya - so do not touch me T^T 

part one

warning: suggestive scene throughout, but nothing happens really. just naoya being an ass lol

pronouns: she/her

A content sigh left Naoya’s lips as he leans back into the warm water of the bath, his eyes slowly sliding shut at the warmth that surrounds him. Today has been a long day on the office - with back to back meetings and piles of paperwork on his desk, he was just ready to land into his bed face first and sleep the evening away. 

“What do you want for your onigiri filling tomorrow? The farmers that produce that special rice you like sent a bag of rice to us earlier today.”

Your soft and sweet voice was what broke him out of his tranquil trance, yet he doesn’t find himself getting angry. Instead he hummed as he leans towards the direction of your voice, seeming to melt further in the steaming water when your soft hands immediately rest themselves against his broad shoulders. Fingers immediately getting to work on the knots that had started to build up since the afternoon. “Hmm...unagi filling sounds good.”

“I’ll make some for your bento tomorrow then,” You reassured him with a warm smile as you started to work through the knots on his shoulders, making sure to not accidentally dig your short but well kept nails into his skin. Whilst Naoya enjoys leaving marks of ownership all over your person, he does not appreciate having any scars left on his skin. And although he does not voice his disapproval, you know your husband well enough to know that unless he is in the mood, you should be careful about things like your nails scratching his skin. 

The idea of you making one of his favourite dishes for him, knowing that he has to deal with more paperwork and calls tomorrow has him smiling softly in response. He would not voice out how your little actions causes his usually cold heart to skip a beat; instead he just leans back a little when he heard you collecting some water from the tub with the wooden shower pale. Relishing in the feeling of the water being poured over his two-toned hair, along with your soft fingers gently running through the strands. 

Many people feel bad for you, since everyone knows what kind of man Naoya is. Everyone knows that he is nothing more but a skirt chaser, a man who views women as nothing an accessory to hang off his arm. Whose purpose is to provide strong heirs, and nothing more. You knew of the man even before you met him the first time on your family estate - listening to your older sister rant about how much of a myogenetic, rude, and disgusting excuse of a man Zen’In Naoya is. You’ve heard of the whispers from the other women whenever you would join a jujutsu event where the Zen’Ins would be in attendance. You knew that the moment both your fathers shook hands after Naoya shows great interest in you, your future was sealed to be with a man who seems to be every woman’s living nightmare.

And yet, for the last 4 months of marriage life, things have been...pleasant.

Naoya knew from the moment that he spoke to you that he needed to act ‘softer’ in order to gain your trust. That he cannot be his full self around you for at least the first month of your marriage in order to make him trust you; or until his patience runs thin from acting. 

However, even though he has promised himself that he will drop the act after the first month; here he is, 4 months into your new marriage. Still finding it almost natural for him to act softer and more...kinder around you. Maybe it is because he finds your personality just so soft and welcoming that it just...felt right to treat you differently. Maybe he is just trying to reason to himself that as his wife, you should be treated differently from the common folk outside of your private home; after all, as long as he keeps you happy, he can get away with pretty much anything. 

And yet...he has yet to find it in him to actually act like his usual self around you. Almost as if he was afraid of scaring you, or fearing that you’re scared of him. It’s laughable - how a man who was so self centered and only cared about himself and no one else, seemed to be so worried about what his wife thinks about him. He had reasoned to him that this is normal; that any husband would want their wife to fear them. 

But just...it was odd to him. How he chooses to act differently around you, and not feel like he is forced in any way.

His opened his eyes to take a peak at you when his thoughts start to wonder, scanning over your concentrated features as you carefully worked the shampoo through his hair. Somehow just seeing you so focused on making sure that he was enjoying his bath had his heart skipping a beat; something that would have scared him if it were to happen with anyone else. 

Yet, instead he found himself letting a small but genuine smile tug against the corners of his lips, one that immediately catches your attention as you carefully wash the studs from his hair. “What got you so happy, my love?,” You asked him curiously as you carefully ran your fingers through his hair, making sure that all the studs were gone. Instead of answering he just reached his hand up to grab your wrist in his gently, pressing a soft kiss against the inside of your wrist. 

Naoya isn’t a man to convey his emotions often. He doesn’t necessarily view emotions as weak; he just sees no reason to show others around him how he feels unless it brings him some form of advantage. Other then that, he just puts up an arrogant and unbothered front for the most part. But with you...well, you were different. You are his wife, and in order to be a good husband, he needs to show you that he is willing to show you what is underneath his mask. Or so, he thinks that is what he needs to do. 

The feeling of Naoya’s lips against your skin send a set of shivers down your spine, your eyes shyly glancing away from his handsome face as you felt the tips of your ears warm up. Just seeing how bashful you were about something as small as showing you emotion had him smirking against your wrist, immediately wanting to see just how far he can push his luck. 

And he knows exactly what to do. “Get in the bath with me.”

You immediately snapped your shocked eyes back at your husband in shock, immediately feeling your cheeks warm at how he was staring at you expectantly. Although you’ve seen each other naked before, with him being so obsessed of having an heir of his own - it would be a surprise if you haven’t see him naked in all his glory. It wasn’t like he was bad to look at either - from all the training puts himself through to perfect his Technique, you would be lying to say that you’ve never stared at his strong back or broad shoulders whenever you two are alone. 

It was just...so sudden. And you immediately knew what his intensions were, yet you just pouted softly as you quietly pulled yourself up from the steps you were seated on. Just seeing the soft pout tugging against the corner of your lips had Naoya biting back a smile as he watches you strip from your kimono, carefully folding the expensive fabrics to the side. 

Soon you carefully made your way up the wooden steps of the traditional bathtub, thanking your husband quietly as he held a hand out to help you into the tub. You awkwardly knelt down between Naoya’s knees, still a little nervous to touch him even though he was the one who invited you into the bath with him. Naoya found your fear quite amusing, and without missing a beat he grabbed your hand in his before he pulls you close; chuckling at the squeak you let out when you landed against his bare chest. 

“Don’t need to be so scared, my wife,” Naoya mumbles with a smirk, hands trailing down your soft back to relish the goosebumps that appear on your skin; his eyes glancing away from your shocked face to your fists resting against his chest.  “After all...if there is one person worthy enough to be by my side, it will be you,” He mumbles, hands that seem even warmer than the water surrounding you two resting on the small of your back.

A combination from his soft touches, to his overly sweet but frank words had your face burning up once more as you whine and bury your face into his neck, your actions causing Naoya to let out a soft but genuine peel of laughter come from his chest. “Did I startle you?,” Naoya asks in amusement, already knowing the answer to that question. Yet he wanted for you to answer the question yourself, since he lives for seeing you getting embarrassed over the smallest of interactions with him.

You fluttered your eyes close to try and calm you rapid heartbeat, yet you nodded your head gently to answer his question. “A-A little..,” You mumble back quietly against his skin, heart skipping a beat a little at Naoya’s soft chuckle that he breathed against the shell of your ear. Naoya did not want to admit it, but he finds this subconsciously clingy side of you quite endearing. Whilst he hates it when others touch him, even if they grazed him by accident; he does not mind it when it’s you.

Maybe he has gone a little insane after marriage. 

After you’ve managed to gather your wits, you quietly pulled away from him before you reached back to grab the wash towel you had grabbed from earlier, Naoya curiously opened one of hi eyes when you shifted against his chest. Just having you pressed up against his chest, along with the warm water surrounding him had lulled him into a tranquil and sleepy state. But he didn’t stop you as you wet the wash towel before you carefully lathered his body wash into the fabric. 

Quietly you started to wash his body like you would usually every night, yet this time it was a little different since now you were in the bath with him. Something that he has never really allowed before, since he views his bath time as his personal time. You would usually help him bathe before you leave the bathroom to prepare for bed and whatever wifely duties you need to fulfil for the night. 

But if you were being honest, as you carefully washed your husband clean, you did not mind a change to your routine. Yet you did not voice your inner thoughts as you continue gliding your hands over Naoya’s arms, making sure to keep quiet to give him the silence he enjoys whenever he’s in the bath. However, Naoya was in the mood to talk today. 

Whilst you were carefully washing his chest, Naoya’s hands started to wander along your body once more once more. “So, what did you get up today whilst your husband was out at work?”

You blinked up at your husband curiously, to which he just raised an eyebrow in response at the look you threw his way. “Can a husband not know what his wife gets up to when he slaves away at his desk?,” Naoya asks with a soft raise of his brow, his words causing you to widen your eyes as you shake your head immediately. Not wanting him to think that you’re questioning his authority. “O-Of course not! I-I just...thought...you’d like some quiet in your alone time..”

A soft sigh was your only response, to which you awkwardly looked away from your husband’s eyes to stare at his hard chest; worried that you’ve angered the man. “You know...I want to hear about your day too,” Naoya mumbles after a few tensed seconds of silence, a finger gently crocking under your chin to coax your eyes to look up at him. He did not have a smile on his serious face, yet there was a soft look shining in his usually hard eyes. “I get curious sometimes when I have time to breath...what does my beautiful wife do at home when I am away? Does she miss me? Does she take the free time she gets to pretend that she is not my wife? What could you be possibly be doing when I am away from home..?”

When you heard his words, you tilted your head softly as you scanned his face, trying to understand the meaning behind his message. He wasn’t dumb - he was more than aware of the whispers of the maids that thought he was not around, how people feel bad for you that you are married to a man like him. He honestly doesn’t care what others have to say about him - he never cared about what others have to say about him. Because he knows that when they need power or need something to get done, they will always turn to him with fake smiles and praise dripping from their tongues.

However, he was genuinely worried about you - he was worried that the whispers of his past will start to scare you away. Make you think that you are an idiot for marrying a man like him, and slowly but surely take you away from him. For once he was worried that you are going to leave him, because for once in his life, he finally understand what it truly means to be home. The very thought of you leaving him shakes him down to his very core, and he will do everything in his power to prevent that from becoming his reality.

“I don’t...think like that, you know.”

Your soft voice snapped his train of thought as he glances back into your eyes, blinking when your soft hands rest against his cheeks gently with a soft smile gracing your features. “I knew the type of man you were before you came to my family estate that day, and I have heard of all the rumours of your attitude even whilst you were courting me. But that didn’t change my decision because I genuinely enjoyed having you around.”

Your words had Naoya widening his eyes as his mind went blank at your confession. And seeing your usually stoic and arrogant husband looking stunned had you giggling as your thumbs started to stroke at his high cheekbones. “Yes, you may be a little colder and stricter then I am used to, but you are still a good man. You’ve been nothing but a good husband to me, and far from the rumours paint you to be. So don’t worry too much about my thoughts on our marriage, because I am nothing but happy to be your wife.”

Quietly you gently tugged his face close, resting his forehead against yours with a smile. “I know that you grew up in a different world from I did, and that you were brought up with different morals from mine. But I also know you’re trying for me, and that is more than enough for me at the end of the day.” You mumble softly, revealing to him that you were more observant than you let on. Yet you faked ignorance for his sake because you genuinely cared for him as a person. “Because at the end of the day, a wife is knows all of her husband’s sides the best.”

For once Naoya was completely stunned into silence, having never expected for you to be so candid about your feelings. Your response to his stunned silence was a quiet giggle as you lean forward to press a soft kiss against the tip of his nose. The feeling of your warm and soft lips snapped him back into reality, and upon realising how close you were, his pale cheeks flushed up from embarrassment. Immediately one of his hands pulled itself away from where they were resting against your bare hips to cover his cheeks with the back of his hand, eyes darting away as he leans away from you immediately.

“I-I want to get out of the bath now...”

You let out a giggle at the sight of your husband so out of character, yet you made no other comment as you nodded with a smile. “Lets get ready for bed then, my love,” You hummed out as you carefully got out to grab the towels for the both of you, biting back your smile at how cute you find him to be as you dried yourself before you did the same for him. 

It was only later into the night, long after you’ve fallen asleep when Naoya really calmed down. You had long fallen asleep, face tucked away underneath his chin whilst your arms wrapped around him loosely. He knows he needed to sleep in order to function properly tomorrow, but his mind has been racing the moment you two got out of the bath to prepare for bed together.

He still cannot wrap his head around the idea that you willingly stay, even knowing that there is a chance you might see a less ideal version of himself. You choose to stay knowing all of the rumours about him and his, admittedly, horrendous behaviour and morals. And whilst he does not know what was it that he did that had you landing in his life, he is 100% sure he will never let you go.

Quietly he presses a soft kiss against the top of your head, a soft but content sigh leaving his lips as he closes his eyes to try and get some sleep before his alarm would go off later. Signaling to a start of another long and boring day away from you once more. 

“You’re the best thing that has happened to me,” He mumbles softly into the quiet bedroom, a soft admission to you whilst you’re far away in dreamland, dreaming of things unknown to him. But the least he can pray for is that he wouldn’t become the enemy in your nightmares.

Because at the end of the day, it’s a husband’s duty to protect the happiness of their wife from the evils of the world. Even if the biggest evil in their lives is themselves. As long as he is your husband, you will have nothing to fear.

He will make sure of it.

© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform.

[darling-i-read-it]

Peace

Karl Heisenberg x reader, Ethan Winters and the other Lords x platonic!reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR RE8!!, insinuations to smut, talks about having children

Author’s Note: this is so wacky and i just now finished it. Its just for fun and an excuse to write domestic resident evil 8 characters. I had a blast doing it. Also it was loosely influenced by @/nerdymixedpan on tiktok who makes this kind of AU stuff! Highly recommend their tiktoks

Summary: An AU where Ethan didn’t kill any of the Lords and was convinced to stay, leave Mia (the crazy chick who tried to kill him and also worked for a sketchy company prior to that) and raise Rose with the Lords and the reader.

Genre: fluff

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

You were walking around Dimitrescu castle, as you often did. You hopped between places when you could. You always went to sleep at the Heisenberg factory but you did get along well with the other Lords and liked to pay them a visit when you could.

It was actually Cassandra who asked for your presence. You had heard of course that the village was being attacked but you didn’t mind too much about that at the moment. Cassandra wanted you over at the castle, to try and talk some sense into Ethan Winters.

You had heard of Ethan at that point, of course. Everyone had. The father of the infamous Rose. But you didn’t think you would get to meet him.

So you came over there and knocked on Alcinas bedroom door. She swung it open, gazing down at you. She was no longer surprised when she came over and usually was quite pleased to have someone to talk to. Rarely did she speak to people outside her daughters and Mother Miranda and she had a responsibility to those people. She didn’t have a responsibility to you.

“What brings you along here? We’re a bit busy. I assume you’ve heard Ethan WInters has escaped Heisenbergs grasp.” You let out a huff of air and nodded.

“Yes, he was not pleased when he came back home. Cassandra called, said I should try and talk to him.”

“Cassandra wants him murdered.”

“Maybe she has some sympathy because of the baby,” you suggested. You gestured to the large castle. “Any idea where I can find him?” She shook her head, exasperated.

“If I had any idea, don’t you think I would have gone to find him already?” You nodded stiffly.

“I will look for him myself then. If you find a short person not in robes, double check to make sure it’s not me before you claw them,” you told her. She gave you a small smirk before you turned around and started back down the stairs.

You had free reign of the castle and had learned its insides and outs at this point. On occasion the girls asked you to stay over and hang out for a little while longer so you had slept there as well.

You started to check a couple of the rooms, walking around haphazardly. It was when you came to a room on the main floor that you found the Duke. He sat there and raised his eyebrows at the sight of you.

“You aren’t Ethan Winters,” he said.

“Ah so you’ve seen him. Care to point me in the right direction?” Duke shrugged a bit.

“He’ll be here eventually if you care to wait.” You let out a sigh. You could go searching but it was a sure bet that he will return to this spot. You pulled up a chair from the table there.

“Alright then. You selling any good food?”

=====

Ethan came running into the room as you were enjoying a nice dish. You stood up quickly, putting your dish down on the table. He had his gun up but dropped it at the sight of you.

“Are you a villager? Do you need help getting out?” he asked, clearly out of breath. You scoffed and shook your head.

“No, no. I’m here to talk to you Ethan.” He was still clearly frazzled. You grabbed your dish and held it up to him. “Care for some food?” you asked, hopefully as a peacemaker. He looked between you and the food and saw that you at least looked human.

He put his gun in his holster and took the food from you.

“Alright. What do you want to talk to me about?” he asked, sitting down at the table. “Who are you anyway?”

“This is Karl Heisenberg's pet,” said the Duke. You scoffed.

“Shush up, you’re not helping.” You sat beside Ethan. “Ethan, I know where Rose is.”

“You know where Rose is?! Where is she?!”

“Shush, let me finish.” You cleared your throat. “This whole thing, all of it, is about Mother Miranda. She took the place of Mia to try and take Rose away. She believes Rose will be a good vessel. Ethan, Lady Dimitrescu, Karl, none of the Lords are your enemy. It’s just Mother Miranda.”

“Well it looks like everyone is trying to kill me.” You shook your head.

“If you helped them kill Mother Miranda, they will let you keep Rose. In fact, I have it on good authority that most of them would love to help take care of her.” Ethan stared at you for a minute and leaned back. He had some food on his chin. You handed him a napkin and he took it gratefully. “And Ethan...Mia told Mother Miranda that you...you’re not exactly human.”

His eyes went wide.

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re mold Ethan.” He was silent for a very long time. Everything raced through his head. Why would he want to stay here? Granted the castle was nice...and these people did know how to save Rose...it would protect him from anything else Chris had planned that he didn’t know about.

And apparently, Mia had been keeping this secret for God knows how long.

It all seemed like too much for him.

“Take a second to take that in. I don’t want to rush you but I have to talk to the daughters about it.”

“You swear they’ll help me with Rose?”

“No one wants her to die, Ethan. We want Mother Miranda gone.” He leaned back in his chair.

“Why should I trust you?”

“I’m human. I’m not mold, I’m not an experiment. Just human. If I could live a happy life here, why can’t you and Rose?”

That made sense. If anything made sense, that did. Ethan took a deep breath.

“Fine. What do you need me to do?”

======

Some Time After The Death of Mother Miranda

“Have you seen Rose? She’s getting bigger everyday.” Karl was speaking when he walked into your room. You were sitting on the bed, flipping through a book. You looked up at him, a teasing smile on your face.

“What, now that you’ve killed Mother Miranda you’ve moved on to caring about the village baby?” you questioned, putting your hand in your palm. He gave you a look but you ignored him.

“You act as though you don’t want a baby every time you see her,” he commented. You scoffed.

“And it always ends up being pretty pleasurable for you doesn’t it?” You grabbed his hand and pushed him down on the bed so that he was sitting on the edge. You wrapped your arms around him from behind.

“You’re damn right.” He brought your hand up to kiss it. “Ethan’s going to Moreaus today, to swim around with Rose. He invited you,” Karl said. You raised an eyebrow.

“Did he invite me or do you want a nice night again?” He kissed your hand again and then kissed your wrist.

“You won’t know until you get there.”

“Fair point my love, fair point.” You kissed his cheek and got up. “I have lunch with Donna but I’ll try and catch up with Ethan afterwards. I may make it, I may not.” You slid off the bed. “Guess you’ll just have to wait to find out.”

He wanted to get up and drag you back but you were already walking out the door.

====

Ethan was by the water, holding Rose in his lap. She was truly getting bigger every day. Moreau was standing beside them, dry now. Ethan’s hair was damp. They must have just gotten done swimming.

“Good of you to join us,” Ethan said as you walked over.

“Salvatore, Ethan…” You leaned over Ethan to look Rose in the eyes. “Little Rosey. How was swimming you guys? Sorry it took so long, I was with Donna and lunch went overtime.” You sat down beside them.

“Rose was perfect,” Moreau said. “She’s a quick learner!” You nodded, looking over at her. You brought your finger up to her and she latched onto it.

“I believe it,” you said. Ethan locked eyes with you.

“I wanted you to come because I heard that Chris was trying to get into the factory.” You raised an eyebrow. You wrapped your arms around your knees and leaned against them.

“He’s still trying to get in here? I thought once Miranda was killed he would leave us alone.” Ethan shook his head.

“Apparently he wants Rose because she’s an asset now,” he muttered but he was looking down at his daughter who was reaching up to his face. He sighed. “She’s getting hungry.”

“You should probably take her back to the castle then.” That was where Ethan usually slept with her. He figured it would be easiest to keep Rose safe with four vampires around at all time that adored her.

“Yes my sister will be wondering where you are,” Moreau said. You nodded in agreement.

“I’ll tell Karl about Chris although I don’t think he’ll get past the Lycans. Then he has to worry about the machines that Karl makes and those are a hassle too. Not the brightest, but a hassle,” you admitted, standing. “I’ll walk you back.” Ethan nodded. You turned to Moreau. “I’ll see you later as well. Try to catch up on the TV show we were watching, I don’t wanna miss anything.”

“I will, of course!” he exclaimed. You smiled and then turned back to walk with Ethan and Rose back up to the Castle. You got into the boat.

“Can you hold her while I steer?” Ethan asked. You nodded and took Rose from him, cradling her in your arms. She was looking around, ever the well behaved child. Ethan started the boat and then you were off.

There was a few minutes of silence as he started to catch his bearings and you played with Rose. You and Ethan had grown close over the weeks he had lived there. He rarely knew peace and didn’t trust it that much but you always assured him that it would be alright.

“I was thinking of maybe starting to rebuild the village,” you said, looking up at him. He raised an eyebrow.

“By yourself?” You scoffed.

“No, obviously not. I’d get the help of everyone. Donna and Angie already wanna pitch in and I figure I could guilt trip Karl into helping, with his whole telepathy thing. I think it could be a fun project. Plus if you accidentally lose a hand you can put it right back on.”

He nudged you, laughing.

“I don’t think it’s a bad plan but who will live there?”

“Us maybe. Separate housing of course but it could be a home away from the Lords. And any villagers left stragglers around.”

“I don’t think there are any left,” he told you.

“Well have you checked?” He was silent. “Exactly. Rose may want a place for herself one day, who knows.” You looked back down at her. She was reaching up to play with your ear.

“She’ll need friends her own age one day,” he said, solemnly.

“We’ll see to that when it comes.” He looked back at you.

“Have you and Heisenberg ever talked about kids?” he teased. You laughed.

“We have our hands full with Rose and the thousands of metal children he makes on the daily,” you admitted. You glanced down at Rose again. “But maybe one day. He seems to be hinting at it and I don’t know...maybe it’s not such a bad idea.”

Ethan glanced back at you and then quickly looked away. You looked happy, curious, wondering.

“If it’s any help...I’m glad I had her. Even if she got me into this whole mess,” he said laughing a bit. You smiled up at him as he pulled into the dock.

“You want a little Heisenberg running around?” Ethan scoffed.

“I wouldn’t mind a little you. Rose could have a friend.” He got out of the boat and you handed him Rose. You got out as well.

“We’ll see. Karl may be banking on it.” You both started to walk back into town. At the castle entrance you had to part.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, if your legs still work.” You gasped, shoving him.

“You have a mouth on you Ethan Winters for living in a house with four other grown women,” you said. He laughed and went into the gate without saying anything else.

The walk back to the factory was a pleasant one. The sun was setting and the breeze was nice. Not too hot, not too cold.

You made it back to Karl in record timing. He wasn’t in the room so you went looking for him. He was in one of the work rooms, leaning over one of his new inventions. You walked up behind him and leaned over the head of the machinery.

“Hey there kitten! Back up, it might come alive at any second,” he muttered, moving you back. You nodded, stepping away from the table. He turned off his recording and turned around to look at you.

“Well how was swimming with Moreau?”

“And Rose and Ethan. I caught the tail end. She had fun though. You’re right, she is growing everyday.”

“I take it by you referencing our earlier conversation you remember how it ended.”

“I’m not doing it if this machine will come alive half way through and kill us.” Karl scoffed and took your hand.

“Up to the bedroom it is kitten!” You scoffed but let him drag you along, giggling the whole way up.

[imaginingmanyfandoms]

Paul's Lullaby | part two

<previous | next>

It had been a few days since your attack on the beach. Since then, Paul really didn't like when you were home alone. Or walking to work alone. Or anywhere alone really. It didn't have to be with him, but he needed to know he, or someone he trusted could get to you in time.

He was worried that the leech had caught your scent, and would come back. Sam didn't think so, Sam was under the impression that this person was actually testing their lines, and he wouldn't let the same mistake happen again. You were still waiting for Paul to tell you the whole truth, but you were being patient, as he had been with you. It was clear that whatever it was, was hard for him to say.

Your couch was permanently occupied by Paul, who picked you up from work to drive you home. And if he couldn't make it, he'd send one of the pack, or one of the imprints to pick you up and bring you to Emily's house.

You were cautiously optimistic about where things were going with Paul. There was still some trust issues, but you were working on it together. And no matter how much Embry or Jared talked about Paul's anger issues, you didn't really see it.

Currently, you were at Emily's, sitting on the couch and trying to stay awake until Paul got there. He made you feel safe.

"Have you seen this?" Emily asked holding a newspaper. There were missing people all over Seattle. It's what had Paul working overtime. He was pulling more than his fair share, and you knew that had to do with you. But you didn't understand what.

"Is anyone ever going to tell me what's going on?" you asked, but your tone was light, joking. Emily laughed, and sat by your legs on the couch.

"Paul really is taking his time, huh?" She gave you a sad smile. "He's doing that for your benefit."

"I know, I know," you said. "I'm just really confused. I swear the scenarios I'm making up in my head must be worse."

"Probably," she said. You both laughed this time.

"Well he better snap to it."

"I'm heading to bed," Emily said, patting your leg over the thin blanket. "You okay out here?"

"Yeah, thanks Em. Goodnight," you said.

"Goodnight."

"Wake up honey."

Paul was gently shaking your arm. He was sitting on the edge of the couch, trying to wake you up as nicely as possible. Jared laughed in the background at how soft Paul was around you, but quickly said his goodbyes as he took the night patrol. It takes a tough guy to make fun of someone and then rush out the door. But Paul didn't care.

"Paul?" you asked, finally coming to. "What time is it?"

"Late, it's very late."

"Take me home," you said, holding your arms out to him.

"I like you when you're sleepy, you're very nice." Paul picked you up, and said a quick goodbye to Sam as you closed your eyes again. It made Sam smile.

Paul carried you to his pick up truck, and got you settled into the passenger seat. He even did up your seat belt. You woke up a little more, but your squirming and stretching was the cutest thing to him. He was so enamoured with you. He didn't really care how long it took until you trusted him. Or even if you never wanted to be with him, he didn't care. As long as he got to be around you, he would be fine.

"Let's watch a movie tonight," you said, yawning right after.

"I don't think you'll be able to stay awake," he said, smiling.

"Can we try?"

"How about we watch something tomorrow, after work?"

"Okay," you said, closing your eyes again. "Tomorrow."

You fell back asleep before you got home. Paul was driving slowly, and the cool air was filtering in through his open window. He was listening to some folk band, and the whole thing just lulled you to sleep.

When he parked the truck, he did everything he could to get you into your room without waking you up, and he was pretty successful. But as he was tucking you into bed, you woke up a little. He moved to leave but you grabbed his wrist.

"Goodnight Paul," you said, not letting go of his wrist.

"Goodnight honey," he said, daring to lean down and kiss your forehead. You made a happy sound as you rolled over, getting comfortable in bed.

Paul would've done anything in the world to crawl into bed with you and fall asleep. But he was happy just to be here.

So, Paul went back to the couch. And got as comfortable as he could, and fell asleep, reminding himself that you were safest when he was here. And that he was doing a good job protecting you.

The next morning went better than most mornings. You woke up in a good mood, and decided to make breakfast for Paul. He'd been working so hard to protect you, that he deserved at least a fraction of that devotion back.

You made the lot, pancakes and eggs. A small fruit salad and a plate of bacon. While the pot of coffee finished, Paul wandered into the kitchen stretching.

"Mmm," he groaned, "something smells good."

"I made you breakfast," you said, a smile on your face.

Paul was in love with you, that much he knew for sure. And today he got his first sign that maybe you were at least starting to fall for him too. It was a good day.

"Eat up," you said. "I have to work in a few hours."

"You're going to eat too, right?" he asked.

"Of course I am," you said, stopping before you left the room. You turned on the radio against the wall. It was some band you'd never heard of, but it was nice enough. Paul was already filling his plate, but you went to pour two coffees. "Cream, sugar?"

"Just black," he said, mouthful of food. "Just come sit."

"All right," you said. "But for the record I wanted the coffee."

You chose the chair beside him, instead of across from him, and he took note of that but didn't say anything. You smiled at him, and he smiled back, like he always did.

Breakfast was relatively quiet, you made small talk about what was going on that day, but mostly you just enjoyed the silence. It didn't feel awkward, it felt right. It felt comfortable. When you were done, Paul wasn't. So you carried your plate to the sink, and rubbed your hand across his back as you passed. His breath hitched slightly, and it made you smile, thinking about how different Paul was.

Maybe it was time you cut him a little slack.

When he finished, Paul helped you clean up. And even shooed you away to get ready for work while he did the dishes.

"Thank you," he said, as you walked back down the hallway. He wiped his hands on a dishcloth and dropped it back on the counter. He leaned back, and you couldn't help but notice how beautiful he is.

"Thank you for being here," you said, suddenly self conscience under his intent stare at you. You pulled your sweater sleeves over your hands, keeping the fabric pinched between your fingers.

"I uh, packed up the rest of the fruit salad. I thought you might like to have it at work." Paul had one of your Tupperware containers sitting on the counter.

"And the bacon?"

He looked guilty. "I ate it."

"It's okay!" you said, laughing at his face. "It was made to be eaten."

He drove you to work, and although you missed to walk, you knew you'd get back to it eventually. When he dropped you off, you hesitated to leave. Paul sat patiently, giving you a moment to collect yourself.

"I want the truth tonight," you said.

"Honey..."

"Just, think about it from my perspective. I have no idea what it is I should be scared of, I have no idea where you work or why you're gone all the time. I'm worried about you, and I'm scared."

"I'm scared too." Paul took a deep breath. "I'm scared that something will happen to you. But mostly I'm scared that if you know the truth you'll be scared of me."

"I wouldn't."

"You don't know that," he said, he looked terrified. "You hated me earlier this month. Couldn't even look at me throughout high school and I am so embarrassed about that. And it's going to be even more embarrassing when I tell you everything because then you'll know that we didn't make eye contact from two years attending the same school."

"I'm sure we made eye contact," you said.

"No." He looked at you, and you could see the pain in his eyes. "We didn't." The look on his face made you hurt. It made your heart deflate, and you would've done anything to see him smile again.

You unclicked your seat belt, but didn't move as it sprang back into place. It didn't feel right to leave the air like this.

The heat he gave off seemed to float right into your space, and there was something about his presence that made you feel more settled than you had in a long time. You wanted to touch him, so you leaned across the middle seat, and placed a tender kiss against his cheek.

"Just think about it," you said, sliding back towards the door and starting to get out. You didn't want to leave him feeling sad, but you had to get to work.

"Have a good shift," he said, watching you leave. He hated watching you walk away.

"You too."

Work had been horrible. Your boss was kind of a jerk, and waiting tables had really lost it's appeal. You'd been serving tables in La Push's best diner, but when the new owners took over, it quickly began to lose it's charm. You wanted to buy it when they were selling, but coming right out of high school you didn't have that kind of cash.

You just felt kind of miserable, so when you saw Jared and Kim waiting for you outside, you just felt annoyed. You were under the impression you and Paul had made plans.

"Hey," Kim said, smiling from the passenger seat. You got in behind Jared. "Don't worry. Paul said another hour, tops."

"Can you guys just take me home? I had a long day and I just want to relax," you asked, pulling your upper body between Jared and Kim's seats.

"I don't know, Y/N," Jared said, making a worried face. "I don't think Paul would like that."

"C'mon Jared," you said. "I'll lock the doors, and I'll call you if I get nervous."

"Jared, she wants to go home." Kim smiled at you. You really liked her.

He rolled his eyes and started the car. "When he freaks out on me, I'm throwing you both under the bus."

"He won't get mad at us," you said, "he said himself. An hour tops."

Jared and Kim were actually really great travel companions. Kim always made sure you were included in conversation, and Jared was not afraid to sing at the top of his lungs which was hilarious. They really cheered you up.

And of course, they waited until you were in your house to pull away.

Inside, you were tired, and cold. And you had wanted to spend some time with Paul. But he said an hour, and you figured we wouldn't lie about that. It wasn't too late that you couldn't give him some of the patience that he had given you.

So you spent the time bringing out some blankets, and pillows. When that was done you made some popcorn and fresh lemonade.

Paul should've been there any second. So you just spent some time tidying up the place. You saw some fabric poking out from under on the blankets, and you yanked on it, pulling out one of Paul's shirts. You laughed. Because it seemed rare to even see him in a shirt.

You pulled your shirt over your head, and put on his instead. Your shorts were hidden by his baggy shirt, even baggier on your small frame.

Twigs snapped outside the window, and you gasped. You knew you locked the door, but decided on checking the windows too. Just so you could say that you did. They were all locked. When you walked back into the living room, Paul was standing there - jaw clenched tight just like his fists were. But you could see the restraint. You could tell he was actively calming himself. You took a step closer.

"Don't," he said, voice cracking. He closed his eyes, hating the way you stop dead in your tracks. He didn't want to scare you. "I told you that I didn't want you here alone for a reason."

"I was so tired after work," you explained. "I wanted to sit on the couch and watch a movie like normal people do."

"I am trying to make things as normal as possible for you," he said, the anger was already washed away, but it wasn't gone. Not entirely. "You just have to trust me."

"How can I trust you when you don't trust me?" you said, voice starting to raise with unavoidable frustration.

"You think that I don't trust you?"

"I'm not allowed to be by myself, how else would you like me to interpret that?" You felt tears brimming at your eyes, the confrontation bringing out your anxiety.

"If we're going to fight, I need you to take three steps back."

"For what?"

"Your safety."

"What does that mean?" you shouted. "Are you scared you'll hit me?"

"I would never hit you," he shouted back. "How could you even think that?"

"I don't want to argue," you said, quietly. "I'm sorry I shouted."

He saw the sad look in your eyes, and could've kicked himself for driving you to this. He nodded, prying his eyes away from your sad ones to look anywhere else. He looked at your shirt, for the first time, and even though he was angry with you, he loved the sight. It calmed him down knowing it was you, in his shirt, a couple feet away.

He held his hand out, palm up for you to take. You did, and he guided you, as if you were dancing - not fighting, to the couch. You sat beside him, and he kept your hand in his.

"I need you to really listen to me," he said, his eyes glossing over with the realization that if he loses you, he'd never be whole again. "For now, I need you to follow all my rules. Even when they seem excessive, or dumb. And in return I will explain everything. And I won't keep any secrets from you."

"I can do that," you said. "If you're always honest with me, I'll be honest with you."

"Okay, tomorrow I'll explain everything. You're off, right?"

"Yeah," you said, shuffling over so you could lean your head against Paul's shoulder. "Can we watch our movie now?"

He put an arm around you, and you fit to him. Like you were always meant to be there. Well, technically, you were.

"Yeah, honey. We can watch a movie now."

[if you want to be added to a taglist for this story then let me know :-)]

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Heart-Shaped Box💟9/End

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), forced pregnancy, some violence, intimidation, some elements untagged for sake of plot.

This is dark!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Sister Series: Get Your Fix

Summary: You accept a job as an au pair, but not all is as it seems.

Note: Finally finishing this one up. Sorry it took me ages but I’m doing my best to go back and wrap up whatever I can.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Masterlist

Bucky pulled out of you as he held your head down, bouncing the bed beneath you as he pushed himself onto his back. You panted as your sweat dampened the sheet beneath you and he leaked between your thighs. You winced as you rolled onto your side and slowly sat up. 

He had you whining loud enough that you had no doubt your guests heard it all. It only seemed to encourage his partner-in-crime as you soon heard a similar scene on the other side of the wall. You were sickened by that noise and stood warily as you cupped your hand over your cunt and scooped up his cum before it could drip onto the floor.

“I told you to keep it down,” he snickered and sat up, his muscled back to you as he stretched his arms above him, “get the shower started, I’ll be in shortly. You girls have a lot of work to do today.”

You grumbled and dragged your feet to the attached bathroom. The low buzz of the pipes filled the silence and you stepped under the steamy water. The moment of calm broke sharply as Bucky appeared from the other side of the curtain and stepped in behind you. He had you clean him with a lathered loofah and you bore it only for the eventuality of time away from him.

The other woman meant you wouldn’t be trapped with just him. It was little help or hope but it was better than your former solitary torture.

You dressed in black dress with daisies and made yourself look like his perfect housewife. You couldn’t hold the smile and make him believe it all the way but he wouldn’t anyway. He flicked your chin and clicked his tongue.

“Mmm, you’re getting there,” he mused as he dropped his hand and reached around to slap your ass, “better go get breakfast on. I’ll check in on our guests.” He squeezed and winked, “be a good girl.”

Those words made your insides curdled but you swallowed your disgust and nodded, “yes, sir.”

He stepped out behind you and watched you go down the hall to the stairs and you heard him knock on the door as you descended. You went to the kitchen and pulled out the frying pan and the coconut oil. You lined up the ingredients for crepes on the counter and took two bananas from the yellow bunch. Your mother used to make the oversweet delicacy and you needed a reminder that you were still that girl.

You stopped as you searched for something to keep the crepes warm after you assembled them, a lid that could fit over the plate or something akin to it. The lower cupboards you rarely opened. Bucky left the cleaning supplies on the counter with your chore list every day and you never bothered to look for anything else.

You stopped and stared at the drain cleaner and the can of toxic oven spray. Well, that wouldn’t be subtle enough, would it? They’d smell either of those a mile away. Anything under the counter would be easily discovered but it did give you an idea.

You closed the wooden door and went back to your task. You heard the voices in the next room and the scrape of the chairs on the floor. Steve’s girl appeared in the doorway, rubbing her stomach as her face contorted.

“Smells sweet,” she said as you simmered the bananas with brown sugar, cinnamon, and a little butter, “almost too sweet.”

“Morning sickness?” you asked innocently.

“All the time sickness,” she sighed, “anything I can help with?”

“Do you know how to make crepes?” you asked as you whisked the batter.

“Not really,” she shrugged, “but I can learn.”

“It’s easy. Takes less than a minute,” you waved her over and tested the temperature of the pan with a flick of water, “so you wanna put just a little batter in…” you ladled in a careful dollop and lifted the pan, “you spread it like this,” you tilted it so the batter spread all around, “you just use the spatula a little on the edges to make sure they don’t stick and you flip.”

It was like second nature and she nodded quietly as she watched. The crepe cooked quickly and you threw it onto a plate and put the pan back to the burner.

“You think you can handle that?” you covered the plate with the lid of a pat to keep it warm. “Then we put some of the bananas and wrap them, bit of cream on top and some icing sugar…”

“You like to cook?” she wondered as she added batter to the hot pan.

“Not particularly, but my mother taught me,” you shrugged, “she can cook anything.”

“Oh,” she flipped the crepe and glanced at the door, “I suppose… it keeps him happy.”

“He’s never happy,” you murmured and cleared your throat, “so, you must be excited to move in!”

“I guess,” she slid the crepe onto the plate as you lifted the foggy lid, “you know how it is.”

You smiled and she tilted her head as she squinted at you. You went to the drawer where there was a box of blank recipe cards and continued speaking as you fished out a pencil from another.

“It’s always nice to get settled,” you said as you wrote, ‘they can hear us’.

“I suppose, nice to be in one place,” she replied stiffly as her features relaxed.

‘I have a plan,’ you wrote and raised your voice just slightly, “oh, you know, we didn’t even get you a housewarming gift. I’ll have to remind James.”

You went to the burner and held out the card under the coil until it caught. You threw it into the sink and watched it burn and curl. You ran water over it as it turned to ash and washed it away. You nudged the bowl towards her and leaned on the counter, “need help with that?”

“No,” she said as she started again, “I’m getting the hang of it.”

💟

You looked around the front room of the house next door. Steve’s girl opened one of the stacked boxes. For once, the men were gone and you could just enjoy their absence. 

Bucky agreed that a gift was in order and Steve had mentioned wanting to explore their new hometown. You tried not to seem eager but even the small walk across the lawns enlivened you. How long had it been since you’d been outside?

You started with the pictures. You left the frames in a stack as she assured you Steve would put the nails in and hang them. Then you moved onto the kitchenware and you kept her from lifting the heavy box of dishes. She seemed to forget about her condition and the reminder made her frown.

You stood behind the counter and set the dishes in the cupboards one at a time, the plates clacking one on top of each other. She watched from the other side as she arranged the silverware in the plastic tray.

“Can you do me a favour?” you asked as you kept on.

“What?” she asked as she dropped a butter knife with the rest.

“I know they’ve locked us in but can you check the garage door? Can we get in there?” you asked evenly.

“What?” she blinked and pushed herself straight, “even if we can, they won’t have been stupid enough--”

“That’s not what I’m worried about. I know we can’t get out that way either. It’s the same at our house. Everything is bolted up tight.” You assured her, “just go and check while I get these sorted.”

She left you and you snapped shut the door and finished with the utensils. You slid the tray into the drawer as she returned, rubbing her stomach.

“Yeah, we can get in but it’s mostly empty,” she said, “so…”

“Mostly empty?”

“Yeah, just the car--”

“The car,” you rounded the counter and curled two fingers for her to follow you.

You headed for the plain white door that led to the garage. You hopped down the steps as she remained at the top and watched you tentatively. You went to the car as she crossed her arms.

“He took the keys,” she said.

You tried the handle and the door opened. “I know,” you said as you put a knee in the front seat and peered into the back. Nothing. 

You felt around under the dash and found the lever for the trunk. You pulled it and it popped. You shut the door and went around the back of the car. You felt around the spare tire and your hand felt something plastic. You grabbed the handle of the half-filled jug and pulled it out.

“Hey,” you held up the bright blue anti-freeze, “do you wanna cook dinner here tonight? A housewarming dinner?”

Her brows knitted and she gave a long blink. Her lips parted then curved.

“You can’t mean--” she let out a scoff.

“It’s sweet. Hopefully they won’t notice if I add enough sugar to the cake,” you breathed, “we can’t let them settle. This is our chance.”

“I don’t-- I don’t know. What if it doesn’t work?”

“Then we’re still in the same boat,” you turned your free hand out, “that man has drugged me for months. I think it’s only fair that he gets a taste of his own medicine.”

She swallowed and looked down at her stomach. She inhaled and cradled her bump. “It can’t get worse than this, can it?”

💟

You spent the day unpacking, the distraction not much of one as you thought of the bottle you hid at the back of the cupboard. By the time the men returned, you were ready to move onto the second floor. 

Bucky offered a bottle of non-alcoholic wine and basket of expensive macarons as your gift to your new neighbours. He forced a kiss from you before he let you follow Steve’s girl upstairs.

You sat in the bedroom and heard the men ascend shortly after. You peeked in on them as you opened the linen closet to shove in the spare sheets. They were hammering together a crib. You knocked lightly on the doorframe as you watched them.

“Huh, what’s going on?” Bucky looked up from the directions.

“Um, we were just… thinking, we could have dinner here tonight? A little housewarmer? I could grab some ingredients from ours--”

“Give me a list, I’ll grab it,” Bucky puffed as he bent to help hold the rail in place for Steve, “that sound okay?”

“Fine by me,” Steve smiled, “it’ll be nice to have our feet on solid ground.”

You left them and returned to your only ally as she sat on the bed and stared at a packet of pills. She crushed it in her grasp and huffed. She flicked away tears with her knuckles. She tossed them over her shoulder.

“He kept them,” she snarled, “it’s like he’s mocking me.”

“What?” you neared her and sat carefully beside her.

“I never… I worked with him, you know? He brought me these drinks and I didn’t realise he was dosing them. The stuff, it made me itchy… it made me so hot and I just needed anything. I hopped on him I was so desperate and-- I told him to stay away. I realised what he’d done and I told him to leave me alone and you know what he did,” she crossed her arms over her stomach.

“No, I--” you touched her elbow.

“He broke into my apartment and replaced my pills. And he didn’t leave me alone,” she spat, “he did this all and he still has the goddamn pills like they’re some sort of trophy.”

She hung her head and grunted in frustration. You leaned against her and put your arm over her shoulders. She let you and the tension drained from her body.

“Even if we get out…” she whispered, “I’ll always have this piece of him.”

She pressed her palms to her stomach and you frowned. There was nothing you could do or say. You’d been lucky so far, even if it only fed your suffering. You didn’t have another life to worry about.

“We don’t have to if--”

“I want to,” she hissed lowly, “I want him dead.”

💟

Usually, you tasted the icing and licked the spoon. Not that night. The blue shade of the frosting was anything but suspicious as you spread it over the fluffy cake. It was a perfect disguise. You topped it with blueberries to add to the theme and dusted on a few coloured sprinkles. You stood back and admired your work as the smell of garlic filled the kitchen.

“I know it’s not much,” Steve’s girl said as she stirred the sauce, “but it’s what I can manage.”

“I’m sure it’s great,” you said as you took the meatballs of the burner and tested the spaghetti, “noodles are perfect.”

You strained the pasta and helped pour the meatballs into the sauce. You mixed it up and poured it into a large glass dish and the noodles into another. You brought them out to the table and called the men to dinner before you fetched the wine, both alcoholic and not.

Steve’s girl sat as you poured a glass for each of you and the men sat. You set the bottle down and nestled in next to Bucky as he served himself. When the plates were full, the other woman nudged Steve and whispered in his ear.

He cleared his throat and stood, “um, I know it’s just us but I guess I should say thank you for all the help and we’re excited to be neighbours… can’t wait for the kids to be running around these halls together.”

“Mmm,” Bucky lifted his glass, “hopefully…” he muttered doubtfully and looked at you, “that better be what she’s having,” he nodded to your glass.

You held it out for him to sniff and he gave you a sour look. He tutted and sat back to twirl noodles around his fork as he set aside his glass. You took a sip of the gutless wine and speared a meatball on your tines. You chewed and looked at Steve’s girl. She let Steve rub her thigh under the table and forced a smile.

She was playing it well and you felt as if you would fall apart. You felt as if Bucky would see right through you the minute you walked in with the cake. What would he do then? Steve couldn’t hurt his girl, she had the baby, but you, Bucky could replace you still. Maybe that was for the best but it didn’t mean you weren’t scared shitless.

You cleared the plates and retreated to the kitchen. Just you. You’d gone over it, you didn’t want them to catch on. You didn’t get too close with them around, you acted like strangers, you really were after all.

You sliced the cake into careful portions and came out with two plates at a time. You put them in front of each chair and sat. As you did, Steve’s girl covered her mouth and gagged. She pushed herself up unsteadily.

“Honey?” Steve asked as he rubbed her lower back.

“It’s the baby I--” she gulped sickeningly, “I gotta--”

She rushed out and Steve gave a look, “nausea. It’s been like this for weeks.”

“I’m going to make sure she’s okay,” you stood, “go ahead and start without us.”

You went down the hall and as you neared the bathroom, Steve’s girl opened the door and pulled you inside. She looked genuinely sick and you smelled vomit on her breath. She turned and rinsed her mouth and shuddered. 

“I didn’t actually feel sick until I got in here,” she wiped her face with the hand cloth, “when I realised--”

“Everything’s in the trunk,” you assured her, “once they’re out, we get the keys and go.”

“How do we know--”

“Retch,” you hissed, “we wait until we’re sure.”

She gave an exaggerated hurl and you heard the clink of porcelain and silver and the drone of voices. You listened through the door as she watched you in the tight space of the half-bath.

“I’m thinking about getting her an… exam,” Bucky’s deep tone carried, “maybe she can’t…”

You let out the breath you were holding and closed your eyes. Just a little longer. 

When you heard a sudden lull, your eyes rounded and you turned the handle and let yourself out into the hall. She crept close behind as you peered through the open archway. Both men had their faces on their plates in the crumbs of vanilla cake and smears of blue icing.

“Let’s go,” you went to Steve and shoved your hand into his pocket, “shit, they’re not here.”

“Here!” she pulled her hand from his jacket hung on the rack, “you think they’re dead?”

You looked from one to the other and shakily felt along Steve’s neck. “Still a pulse. I think maybe… they’re only knocked out.”

“The serum,” she shook her head, “means we have to go quick.”

You hurried after her and followed her down into the garage. She climbed into the driver’s seat and moved it back as her stomach pressed to the wheel. You got in the other side as your body trembled with adrenaline. She hit the button attached to the keys and the door slowly raised behind her.

As she reversed, you felt a sudden shock around your neck and yiped. You’d forgotten entirely about the necklace. She stopped suddenly and watched you writhe in agony.

“Shit, shit,” you leaned forward until the shock stopped, “the necklace.”

“Fuck,” she reached for it and you batted her away.

“No, you’ll get zapped,” you gasped as you pulled on it desperately. It was too tight to get past your chin but too strong to snap. 

She took the keys out and tossed them in your lap. You lifted them and twisted the necklace around the house key but there was no give. You sobbed and dropped your hand.

“I can’t,” you looked at the bent key, “you gotta go without me.”

“What? No, I can’t--”

“You have a baby,” you said as tears burned in your eyes and your throat tightened, “go, please.” You dropped the keys on the dash and opened the door. “I can’t--”

“No, you have to come with me,” she begged.

“No, you have to go before they wake up,” you got out as you grasped your neck, the searing pain still hot on your flesh, “I’ll… I’ll survive. I have this far.”

“N--”

“Shut up!” you slammed the door and hit the hood, “go!”

She stared at you and her lip quivered. She gave you one last sad look and grabbed the keys. She sniffed as she gripped the wheel and backed out down the drive. 

You fell to your knees and sat back on your ass as you watched her drive away. You shook your head and held it in your hands as you sat behind the invisible wall of your prison.

The tires screamed at the end of the street and the noise of the engine faded into the distance. You laid on your back across the concrete and covered your face with your arm. At least you could live with knowing you got her out. Well, you couldn’t really say you’d be living. You’d be alive but little more than that. 

But you’d survive knowing that you kept one person from that pitiful fate. Even if it wasn’t you. Even if you knew that you would pay for it in the end. Even when those men woke up and found you laying in the garage, the sweet flavour of antifreeze on their tongues as the bile of their anger overflowed and drowned you. 

You couldn’t do anything but wait. If you were lucky, they might just kill you and that in itself would be freedom.

💟 💟 💟

END

[randomshyperson]

Wanda x Reader - The one and only

Gif is not mine, another day falling in love with her.

Summary: You have always loved Wanda in secret. When Vision dies, she loves you back. But you are also the one who can bring him back. Prompt from @stay-casual

Warnings: Fluff, angst, death, insinuation and brief mention of smut (no sex though)

Words:  13.036k // Read on AO3 too

Marks: @mionemymind @abimess

Notes: Hope everyone like this, let me know if you don’t. Sorry for any typos. 

//-//

You loved someone who was not meant for you.

It was a bitter truth you had to accept.

Being an enhanced human, a Hydra experiment, and having spent years under physical and psychological torture by Nazi doctors, pain was not exactly something you were unaware of. You got used to it. You were always down to earth anyway, accepting things as they were.

When you joined the Avengers, you just hoped to help those in need, figuring your days of emotional stress were over.

But then you met Wanda Maximoff.

She was something you didn't understand in the first instant. When she tried to get inside your head, fighting as your enemy, you resisted and almost broke her neck. You saw fear in her eyes, and realized in that second that you would never again try anything that would hurt her. When her brother fought you, and you saw her worried expression, you surrendered. Steve and Tony scolded you for letting them get away, but you just tried to understand why your heart was racing when the witch looked at you before she escaped.

You fail to save Pietro however, and had to watch Wanda collapse. Never, even after so many battles, you felt so helpless. 

But you did everything in your power to be there for Wanda. S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't want to allow it, but you used all the favors they owed you to get Pietro's body not treated as an experiment, but as a civilian. And then you organized the whole memorial service. You didn't speak to Tony for two weeks, because he simply wasn't interested in the matter and you wanted to punch him in the face every time you remembered.

The ceremony was simple and small, and while Wanda was finishing paying her respects alone, you took the dirty dishes into the kitchen. Natasha was sitting at the counter and nodded slightly when you entered.

"You care about her." She said after a moment. You continued to wash the dishes, without sketching any reaction.

"Yes."

"No denying it?" she teases, but you remain impassive.

"I have no reason to lie to you, Natasha." You say with a smile. "We are friends, I trust you."

"Are you complimenting me to make me feel guilty for teasing you?"

"Maybe." You say laughing lightly, and Nat smiles.

"Something's bothering you." She says after a moment. You sigh, finished washing the glasses to turn around. You cross your arms and lean your back on the sink.

"If I hadn't organized everything, you would all treat Pietro like an experiment." You say seriously and Nat looks away. "I guess I was just disappointed in the way you all acted about it. Pietro was our teammate, and he sacrificed himself for Clint. If I didn't say or do anything, he'd be in a lab right now."

"You're right." Nat says next, holding your gaze. "But I don't know what to say. Everything has settled down now, and honestly most of us wouldn't have the power to get his body back."

You let out an impatient sigh.

"Right, Natasha." You interrupt and she blinks at your serious posture, but you just have an almost disappointed look on your face. "I should have known that you guys pick the fights you're going to fight. I just hoped that all members of the team would have the same importance."

"Y/N..."

But you just give her a sad smile, and turn around, leaving the kitchen. When you walked back to Pietro's grave area, you noticed that Wanda was kneeling on the ground, leaving some flowers. Vision was beside her, and when she stood up, she allowed him to hug her. Swallowing the bitter feeling in your stomach, you forced yourself to think that you were glad that he was there for her.

//-//

It doesn't take long for you to realize that you are in love with Wanda. It's not in your place to confess it, though. 

She is your friend, and your teammate. And more importantly, she is in a relationship with Vision. You were never the jealous type, because you were never possessive, and honestly, you just hoped that Wanda would be happy. And if Vision was responsible for that, that was enough for you.

When Steve and Tony start fighting, and the team splits up, there is not the slightest possibility that you will stand up to Wanda. So you throw your weapons on the ground, and Tony looks at you incredulously.

"Have you lost your mind?" He asks.

"I'm not going to fight with my friends." You say simply turning your back on him as you walk to the other side of the parking lot.

"She really changed sides in the middle of the fight?" You hear the boy dressed in red ask impressed. But you don't care.

"If the deal divides us, there's something wrong with it" You tell Steve when he accepts you as an ally. He smiles and then you are helping him, not fighting any of your companions, just deflecting blows and preventing them from hurting you.

Natasha lands a punch to your face, and your natural instinct is to knock her down. Before you can apologize, she assumes a provocative expression.

"Too bad I wasn't Wanda." She sneers and you roll your eyes, assuming a defensive stance as she stands up. 

"I don't want to fight you, Tasha" You say as you defend the blows. "Please, this isn't right."

"You don't just want to stand against your girlfriend." She taunts almost hitting a blow to your face, but you hold her leg up in the air.

"Why are you insisting on this?"

She releases herself from your grip, and you return to defending her attempts to punch you. 

"I just don't think it's fair."

"What are you talking about?"

"You should tell her. Wanda should know." She explains and then you hold her fist closed, preventing her from hitting you. She tries with her other hand, but you stop her again, restraining her. Your faces are close together. 

"No." You say seriously as she tries to break your grip. "She doesn't need to know."

"You deserve to be happy too." She says before breaking free by hooking her legs around your waist. You loosen her wrists to avoid being knocked over as you struggle.

"Tell her" Nat ordered again and you let out a sigh, knocking her to the floor and falling on top. 

"She has already found her soulmate" You reply with a sad smile, immobilizing Natasha "Now please stop fighting".

Nat hits you in the ribs, and you let out a grunt of pain. She manages to immobilize you next.

"You are unbelievable." She comments with a slight smile, and then she lets you go. "Always making me make the worst choices, darling."

You laugh  in surprise when Nat helps you up. You think Tony is complaining that it is not fair that people switch sides in the middle of the fight, but you are not listening. You watch Vision and Wanda interact from some distance away. And then you are helping Steve to the plane.

//-//

The fight is over and you are laughing, but not with happiness.

The government wants to arrest anyone who didn't escape from the parking lot, and they are coming. So you are holding Tony Stark by the neck.

"No one is going to touch her." You warn him, and there is only fear and surprise in the man's eyes, "How can you treat your friends like that?"

You saved James Rhodes' life during the fight, and so this is what you use against Tony.

He laughs when you put him down.

"What exactly are you asking me for?"

"Time." 

"You made that choice when you chose your side."

"That's too easy for you to say, isn't it, Tony?" you retort with irony. "If you take off the armor, you are no longer Iron Man, and the deal doesn't affect you. We don't all have that choice."

Tony looks at you with annoyance. And then he puts his hand to his ear.

"They've gone north." He warns the agents over the communicator. You look at him one last moment before turning, running back outside.

"Vision, let her go." You warn the man and he looks at you in surprise, probably trying to understand why Tony let you go. 

"I don't understand."

"They're up north, Vision." Tony says appearing at his side. "We couldn't reach the fugitives in time. Our colleagues have fled north."

Vision gives Tony one last look before letting go of Wanda's arm. 

As Wanda walks over to you, you signal to your the rest of the captain's team that you have also been contained. You find the Ant-Man is injured. 

"They also stole the transport vehicle in warehouse 23, the keys were in the cabin." Vision says next and you exchange a look with him, thanking him. And then you run.

//-//

Being an out-of-state fugitive is quite stressful, but you get used to it. 

There are no fixed locations, or very long term accommodations, but you try to stay positive about the whole thing.

You all can't stay together, so you have a cell phone that connects to Steve's and Sam's. You stayed in the same hotel room as Wanda for three weeks, then Vision contacted her.

They were trying, and then you let her try it alone. Natasha agreed to run away with you, and you made sure to check on Wanda every week, but she was always fine. 

T'Challa agrees to let you stay in Wakanda for a while after the government almost captures you. 

Your powers are difficult to control after the agents hit you with a strange weapon, and the people of Wakanda seem to be the only ones able to help you.

You don't like to owe favors, but you think they are good people. 

Bucky is free when you meet him. You become close again, and it is good to see him rest.

It is Shuri who discovers where your abilities come from, and you finally understand why you have always felt connected to Wanda and Vision. Your energy came from one of the jewels, as did their power. You don't know how Hydra got access to this, and you don't understand why Thor doesn't tell you all the things humans don't understand, but you realize that these mystical stones are too dangerous.

You talk to Shuri, and then to the council and the king of Wakanda. They all agree that no human should have access to such power. You help her build a machine that can separate the stone and Vision's body. 

"How do we destroy it?" you ask her as you are putting the finishing touches on the equipment.

"Maybe you can." She says and you deny it with your head.

"No, I don't think I can." You say. "But maybe Wanda can. It's her thing, and it's her stone too."

Shuri nods and you get back to work.

Unfortunately, events move faster than you do. 

//-//

There is an army controlled by a purple man. 

That is the only information Steve gives you through the communicator. You hugged Wanda tight when she arrived in Wakanda, and she was happy to see you, but she also seemed upset. You knew it was because of Vision.

"Hey buddy, it's going to be okay." You told him with a smile as you helped him climb into the machine you built.

"Thanks, Y/N" Vision said to you.

You didn't stop fighting for the next few hours.

There was a moment, on the battlefield, that you felt something in the pit of your stomach. When you destroyed your opponent, your hands and eyes were glowing even after you stopped throwing your power. Your stone was here. 

You knew something was wrong, so you ran to where you were being pulled.

Some opponents tried to hold you back, but you defeated them easily, feeling much stronger than you ever had.

"No!" you exclaimed angrily as you launched your energy at the creature that was supposed to be Thanos, preventing him from reaching Wanda. He used the golden gauntlet to hold his power, but you kept him busy long enough for her to destroy Vision's stone, an energy field pushing you away when she did. You fell to your knees afterwards, exhausted from having held out against your own stone for so long.

Thanos slowly walked over to the redhead, and you struggled to move toward her.

"I understand, child. Better than anyone." He said and you choked, fearing that he was going to hurt her. 

"You could never." She replied angrily still on the floor.

"Today I lost more than you could ever imagine".

"Leave her alone" You muttered stumbling toward her. You are feeling a sharp pain all over your body, but managed to stand. Thanos smiled at you wryly.

You raise your fist toward him, but he just raises his golden gauntlet.

"I felt you." He with a wry smile. "In my hand"

"You will feel my fist on your face in a second." You retorted angrily and he laughed. You are almost reaching for him, but you frown when you notice the green glow on his gauntlet. The time stone.

"One second is all I need."

You blink, and you're not there anymore. You are halfway again. And then you understand what he has done. When you run back to where Wanda was, a golden light throws you away. This time, it wasn't Wanda who destroyed the stone. 

"No. No" you repeat to yourself as you run back, your body no longer aching like before, and you stumble among the trees.

You were going to attack Thanos as soon as you saw him, but Thor hit him first. Then you were running to Wanda, kneeling beside her.

"He's gone." She cried beside Vision's body. You couldn't feel his stone anymore, and your own face was wet with your tears.

You placed your hand on top of Wanda's next, and looked forward. Thor had struck Thanos in the chest and was saying something to him. 

Then you gasped in surprise as the titan raised his fist. 

"No!" you exclaimed getting up, but he snapped his fingers. You launched a wave of energy at him, but he used his gauntlet to defend himself. "What have you done?" you shouted rushing to reach the fallen titan. 

"The necessary thing." He whispered before using his last breath of energy to teleport away. 

You turned to Thor at the same instant, but he is not looking at you, but at Steve. 

"Steve?" A male voice calls out, and you watch Bucky walk toward you all. But he turns to dust midway.

"W-what?" you whisper breathlessly, taking a step forward. Steve kneels on the ground in the same place your friend was and looks at Thor in confusion. 

You look at Wanda immediately and feel your heart soar when you notice that the same thing is happening to her.

"Wanda?" You cry running to her, but by the time you arrive, she is gone. There is only Vision's body.

You can't feel either of them anymore.

//-//

The world is in complete chaos during the blip. There is no more S.H.I.E.L.D, and many other deals. And then there's a company that wants to take Vision's body away, and you destroy their trucks, and Steve has to calm you down for twenty minutes.

"No one is going to touch him." You say only as you release yourself from Steve's grip, and ignore the startled looks from the agents of S.W.O.R.D. You kick them out of the Avengers compound, and say that Tony Stark may be dead, but they had no jurisdiction there. If they had a problem with that, they could fight you.

It took 23 days for Tony Stark to come home. You hug him first when he gets off the plane. And you are impressed that it barely takes two hours for him to start talking shit.

"I told you guys we needed armor around the world..."

"And here we go again." You mumble impatiently as you take the focus away from the discussion to the tablet in your hand. 

You are startled when Tony collapses to the ground, and the team moves to rescue him. You don't worry, because you feel he is fine.

"Tony always has to make a scene." You comment to yourself shaking your head slightly. "Hey, you," You call out to the metal girl you don't know while the other avengers are out of the room, "help me find your dad."

//-//

The team is trying to locate Thanos by analyzing planets that fit Nebula's description. You feel a sharp twinge in the back of your neck and then you are getting up towards the scanning equipment.

"Y/N, what is it?" Steve asks worriedly as he notices her movement.

"I found him." You say a moment later. 

The team is impressed, but you swallow dryly.

"I felt my stone." You explain to them. "And then I didn't feel anything else. We need to go to him."

The Avengers exchanged worried looks, fearing what you were implying.

Soon you were all on a spaceship, heading for an unknown planet.

When Thanos confirmed your suspicions, the stones were destroyed, you sobbed.

"Wanda. She..." You said breathlessly turning to leave the cabin. You sat on the ground, trying to normalize your breathing. She's gone. Your friends are gone forever.

//-//

Your way of experiencing grief is unconventional.

You try to balance managing the chaos that the world has become while splitting chores with Natasha, and going to a few community therapy sessions. Steve is acting strange, but you make sure he eats properly.

There are no tears. You feel that if you start crying you won't stop, so you just work. And you help those who need it. And you have movie nights with Natasha, and you try to remember things that are worth living for.

There is a secret project too, something that is not progressing, but that you don't give up on. The machine you created with Shuri in Wakanda was destroyed in battle. With the world in complete chaos, you didn't have enough time to put it back together, especially with the current state of Wakanda. But you kept the projects going. Part of you didn't know if your lack of absolute dedication was because you believed Vision wouldn't want to live without Wanda. You wouldn't and you didn’t.

So there is this side project, to rebuild the machine and try to restore Vision, but it falls by the wayside after a few months. You keep the papers in a safe in your room, and start accepting more missions.

Tony has given up the hero's life, just as you always said he could do. You are not angry with him, though. And you visit him not so regularly, and agree when Pepper says that Morgan is the cutest kid in the world.

Steve becomes a kind of group therapist, and you want to tell him he needs a degree, but Natasha pokes you in the rib, and you just nod as you listen to the story.

Clint is different too. Losing his family has completely messed him up, and he has become a vigilante of sorts. You find Natasha crying often after you discover that he has been murdering people, and you always hug her until she stops. 

As time passes, your pain becomes numb, and your nightmares stop happening. You think it is because Natasha lets you sleep in her bed now.

//-//

Five goes by much faster than you realize.

You are somewhere in Georgia, investigating a lead on a possible terrorist group forming, when Nat calls you. Scott Lang was alive.

When you return to New York, you discover that you have to go back in time.

Your friends want to know if you know anything about how Hydra had your stone, but you have no memory of that time. And with no time, they decide to just follow the right date and place that Rocket provides. You accompany Nebula, because it might be helpful to get a feel for where your stone would be.

You hug Natasha before she leaves with Clint to get the soul stone.

"You're getting sentimental" She teases when you let go of her.

"I know" You retort with a smile. "Just be careful, Tasha."

"I'm usually the one who tells you that." She says in the same tone, squeezing your hand lightly before turning away. 

When Nebula takes you and James to a place called the Temple of the Power Stone, you can barely breathe. 

"I can feel it." You say to the two of you as you walk to the stone. 

"How are we going to get it?" James asks as he looks at the repository where the stone is placed.

Nebula is sticking her hand in the protective flame next second and you let out an impressed hiss.

She hands the stone protector to you, and you nod in appreciation.

"Let's synchronize then." You say as you form a small circle. 

"Wow, that always feels weird" You joke as you appear in the Avengers compound again, now on your time. But your smile dies when you look around, and can't find Nat. "Clint...where?"

He just denies it with his head, and you feel your heart soar. This can't be true, you think in desperation. 

"No. Nat... She can't." You say breathlessly, falling to your knees. Steve is touching your shoulder next. But then you release yourself from his grip, rushing to get out, feeling yourself suffocating. 

You end up on the pier of the complex, thick tears streaming down your face.

It doesn't take long for the team to catch up with you.

"What do we do now?" You hear Tony ask. Steve sits down on one of the empty benches.

Bruce, in his Hulk form, is further away and looks just as upset as you.

"Did she have a family?"

You let out a short laugh at Tony's question.

"She had us." You retort trying to control your tears. 

"Why are you guys talking like she's not coming back?" Thor asked angrily. "We have the stones, we will bring her back."

"It can't be undone." Clint said next, nipping in the bud the shred of hope that had risen in your chest. You sobbed. "She sacrificed herself for the stone, her soul was the price." He says looking forward. He lets out a breathless sigh. "It should have been me."

"You bet it did." You retort bitterly as you get up and walk away. No one follows you this time.

You go directly back to Nat's room. And you stay there for two days. When you calm down, and decide to take a shower and try to eat something, on the way out of the bathroom, you stop in front of her closet.

She would hate for you to take her clothes without asking, but you are wearing one of her leather jackets anyway. Wanda used to steal them too, and you both used to joke that it was because Nat had a wonderful fashion sense. 

Now you had lost your two friends, and you were alone. You tried to control your sobs. Her sacrifice had to be worth it. So you put on her clothes and went out into the living room.

//-//

The team was arguing when you came in. You just blinked in surprise when you noticed the iron gauntlet. Tony really did it.

You tried to argue that you could handle the gauntlet's power too, but Bruce insisted that since he was made of gamma ray in his Hulk form, that was what he was there for.

And then he snapped his fingers. 

You looked at Clint in surprise when he took a call from Laura. 

"Honey?" He whispered tearfully and you felt your heart soar. And then something exploded and you were creating a force field to save Clint from the rubble.

When you were finished falling among the remains of the completely destroyed Avengers compound, you checked to see if the archer was okay, sighing with relief when he opened his eyes.

"Stand up." You ordered helping him to stand. "We have to find the others."

"The gauntlet." He warns pointing to something among the stones that glowed in the dark a few feet away from you. Before you could walk towards the item, a noise caught your attention.

Clint aimed an arrow from the direction of the sound, and you choked as the space creatures moved in the dark.

"Go." You shouted to him before starting to attack the beings as he ran to reach the gauntlet and leave the place, you following him with some delay.

You almost died a couple of times though. And when you reached Clint again, there were two Nebula's with him, and a green girl.

"What's going on, people?" You asked confused, and then let out a surprised exclamation when you realized that one of the Nebula's had a gunshot mark on her chest.

"I'll explain on the way, we have to get out of here." Clint spoke pulling you through the halls.

"Wait, she killed her past self? Isn't that going to be a problem?" You exclaim as soon as Clint explains it to you and he shrugs his shoulders. "May I ask why you are green?" You say to the strange girl next to you and she looks at you reproachfully.

"Why aren't you?"

"Touché" You retort smiling, "I am Y/N."

"Gamora."

When you reach the battlefield, things are chaotic and you barely have time to notice your surroundings and you are already fighting again.

Your heart races when you realize that everyone is back. But you don't have time to talk to anyone now, as you are busy fighting.

A red glow catches your attention, however. Completely taking your attention is the right thing to say.

"Who's got the gauntlet?" You hear Steve ask over the team's communicator, but you don't wait for the answer; you're headed toward Wanda.

When you find her, she has the titan trapped in her magic. You choke with excitement at seeing her again, feeling your eyes water.

But then a loud explosion catches your attention. Thanos has activated the airstrike, and you are running toward Wanda, reaching her just before one of the missiles reaches you two.

"Whoa, hi!" She greets you in surprise as you roll on the ground together. A mixed force field between your and her magic surrounds you, protecting you two from the attacks. You let out an exclamation of happiness, raising your hand to her face, wanting to confirm that she was really there.

"God, it's really you." You gasp with emotion, letting your tears flow. Wanda probably doesn't understand what is happening, but she hugs you back as you bury your face in her neck.

This can't last long, though. You take one last look at her face before standing up, the force field still surrounding the two of you as you help her to her feet.

However, when you go to ask her how you could take down the ship, someone does it for you.

"Wow, that's cool" You comment with a smile watching Carol destroy the entire ship with one blow.

"I think you're drooling." Wanda scoffs lightly making you laugh awkwardly. 

"Shut up."

And then you are fighting again.

You have the impression that you are losing. But then Thanos' army is turning to dust before your eyes and you are exchanging a confused look with Wanda.

"Tony snapped his fingers." Steve says into the comm and you choke in surprise. Then you are running halfway across an open field until you catch up with your friends.

Pepper is kissing her husband's cheek when you arrive.

"S-Steve, what?" - You ask and he just shakes his head, thick tears in his eyes.

You gasp and then there are arms around you. It takes a moment for you to hug Wanda back. And when Steve takes Tony's body, she holds your hand.

//-//

Your hands are shaking as you step out of the shower. 

You are staying at Tony's house, as are some of the others, while the compound area is being restored and Pepper organizes the funeral. 

The laundry on your bed is Natasha's last set of clothes, and you don't want to cry anymore, but your face is wet anyway.

You finish getting dressed, but remain sitting on the bed in the room you are sharing with Wanda. The redhead enters a moment later, but you don't look at her.

Wanda sighs slightly and sits down beside you.

"Do you also have the feeling that everything is a bad dream?" She starts after a moment, you blink in surprise feeling a bit distracted and forcing yourself to pay attention. "Like the pain is so overwhelming, it's easier to think it's all temporary. Because there' s not the slightest chance you can survive this for much longer."

"Yes. I feel exactly like that." You agree smiling faintly. "But that's grief. No matter how impossible it seems now, it gets better." 

"How can you know that?"

"Because I already lost you once."

Wanda blinks in surprise and then looks straight ahead. You don't face her either. 

"How was it?" she asks after a moment, almost in a whisper. Clearly not exactly sure whether to ask that or not. You let out a dry laugh, running your hand over your face to wipe away the tears.

"What kind of question is that?" you retort and Wanda lets out a sigh, apologizing, but you shake your head. "You know exactly how I felt Wanda. Because you lost Vision too."

Wanda swallows dryly, looking at you with a frown. You stand up, leaving no room for questions. 

You leave the room next, it was better to try to eat something.

//-//

Steve Rogers is going back to the past. And he will stay there.

He confesses this to you on the eve of Tony's funeral, and you push him by the shoulders, before hugging him tightly. Bucky also cries when he tells him.

No one else must know, not yet. You go back into the room you share with Wanda and mask your tears. She probably thinks it's because of Nat, so she doesn't press you to talk.

When the ceremony takes place the next day, you entwine your arm with Steve's. You were about to lose the three leaders of the Avengers all at once, and it looked like your heart couldn't take it.

But Steve smiles, and squeezes your hand lightly, before going to talk to Potts. You walk to the edge of the lake at the cabin, joining Clint and Wanda.

"I wish there was a way to tell her." Says the man after a moment. You clench your jaw, knowing exactly who he is talking about. "Of telling her that we won."

"Natasha was sure we would make it." You say half hoarsely, trying to hold back the cry. "She trusted us. That's why she did what she did."

Clint nods slightly, not holding back the tears that were falling from his eyes.

"She knows." Wanda said next. "They both know."

Clint slung an arm around Wanda's shoulder and one around yours, embracing you both. You allowed yourself to cry some more.

//-//

There are no more Avengers. At least not for now.

The world is in complete chaos with everyone coming back after five years.

You don't want to think about how many responsibilities you will have to take on when you are a hero again, you just want to get some rest.

Your first stop is Vision's grave. The restoration of the complex took a few weeks, but Potts was kind enough to take care of everything.

You took Wanda there as soon as everything was ready.

"I know we haven't talked about this yet, but, I got it back." You tell her as you walk together to the spot Potts showed you on the map. "After Thanos activated the missiles, I worried that something had happened, but the restoration team was able to map everything out again." You counters by leading her around the place. 

Wanda just listened to your words, saying nothing. She seemed surprised by everything.

You reached a small hill, where there were two small metal and rock tombstones. On the first gravestone you made a few years ago completely recovered by Potts' team and already with slightly rusty lettering, it read "Pietro Maximoff - Brother, Friend and Hero. You are loved beyond words and lost beyond measure." On the second, a newer metal, and with gold lettering, it read "Vision Maximoff - Friend, Lover and Hero. To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die."

"I used to bring flowers, but..."

You fell silent as Wanda hugged you. You reciprocated the hug for a moment, until Wanda let go, smiling weakly at you before turning around, kneeling on the graves.

As she ran her fingers over the letters, you cleared your throat.

"I know you two weren't married, but since Vis didn't have a last name..."

"It's okay." She interrupted in a whiny voice. "Thank you."

She stood there for many minutes. You don't mind waiting. And when she allowed it, you hugged her again, wiping away her tears.

You returned to the compound just as the sun was setting.

//-//

You were going to help Wanda to have a proper grief.

She had the same quirks as you, unhealthy habits of disconnecting from reality. 

You wouldn't want that for her. Vision wouldn't want that.

The day after you took her to Pietro and Vision's grave, you appeared in her room in the morning. A tray of breakfast in your hand. 

"I don't want to get up." She grumbled against the pillows when you entered the room without knocking, opening the curtains.

"I know, but it's almost ten thirty and you need to eat something." You said, leaving the tray on the bedroom table.

The first day she resisted. But two weeks later, she was already on her feet when you came into the room. You always ate together, and you made a point of taking her for walks, and spending time doing the things she liked, for example watching old TV series together.

"Potts called me." You said as you two shared coffee. "She wants me to take over the compound."

Wanda let out a surprised exclamation and you laughed lightly.

"Yeah I know, it's a lot." You say. "But Tony left the command to Steve. And Steve left it to me."

"Are you sure you want this?" She asked looking at you. You shrug.

"It's not about wanting it, Wands," you say. "I am who I am after all. These powers are with me for a reason. Maybe I can use them to do something good."

Wanda nods slightly, looking at you in a way that makes you embarrassed.

"And what does the government think of all this?" She asks and you sigh, running your fingers through your hair.

"They want to control everything of course." You tell her. "Potts is trying to keep everything classified as private property, but after Thanos, that's pretty unlikely."

"I guess the treaty of Sokovia was inevitable after all." She then comments, and you grumble in agreement.

"I would like to enjoy the rest of my vacation, though" You say with a smile, making Wanda look at you.

"What do you want to do?" 

"I'm torn between a quiet weekend at a spiritual retreat or getting completely drunk in Las Vegas."

Wanda laughs.

"Okay." She says smiling, "Let's do both then."

"Oh, you like both then?"

"Oh, yeah."

Wanda replies wryly, and you notice her cheeks flush slightly, suggesting that she understood your insinuation. You laugh, going back to eating.

//-//

Sam has been calling you for a few hours, and you left an automated message on the answering machine that says "I'm on vacation, if it's life or death, send a letter".

You are driving to Las Vegas now, humming a pop song on the radio with Wanda in the passenger seat.

 "Now that you are Tony's heiress you will spend the money on gambling, I suppose" She teases making you laugh.

"I'm not Tony's heiress." You counter laughing. 

"Oh, yes, sorry, Miss Avengers leader."

You laugh at the teasing, then turn up the volume. You and Wanda sing at the top of your lungs.

When you park in front of the first big casino you encounter, Wanda has a mischievous grin on her face.

"I bet I win more games than you do." She says stopping in front of you.

"Can we use our magic?" You ask in the same joking tone, and she nods. You let out an excited exclamation. "Game on."

//-//

You two are thrown out of the casino a few hours later.

You both laugh as you run away from the angry security guards and get into the car quickly, many small coins falling out of your pockets. You drive through town, until you find a bar that seems crowded.

"Ready for the second half of your vacation?" Wanda asks with amusement as you get out of the car, making you laugh. Parties aren't really your thing, but you had said you wanted to drink after all.

The girl at the door looks at your clothes with a judgmental eye, but you think Wanda may have used her powers to get you two into the club.

The atmosphere is extremely noisy and with lots of lights, but you are not bothered when you start drinking.

"I think this is the worst way to go through grief" You comment before you and Wanda pour a shot of vodka together.

She laughs lightly afterwards.

"It's fun though." 

And then she is pulling you onto the dance floor. You are too drunk to care about the closeness. You laugh as you dance together.

As the nightclub is beginning to empty, you and Wanda stumble out, visually drunk.

"Where's the car, Wands?" You ask between giggles, Wanda shrugs her shoulders, leaning on you to be able to walk.

It takes many minutes for you to find the vehicle. And when you do, Wanda passes out in the back seat. You use the rest of your sobriety to throw a jacket over her body, before sitting down in the front seat and falling asleep.

The next morning you both have a very bad migraine, and decide to have breakfast at a dinner on the way back to the compound.

Sitting on opposite sides of the same table, you drink some orange juice while Wanda steals a piece of your pancakes. You don't mind.

"Where are we going to spend the last stage of your vacation?" She asks curiously, and you rest your face on your hand while propping your elbow on the table.

"I don't know." You say. "I don't think I know anywhere quiet."

Wanda stands thoughtfully for a moment.

"We could rent a cabin."

"I make minimum wage."

Wanda laughs rolling her eyes. But she becomes quiet next, her expression serious.

"I can split the bill with you."

You raise a curious eyebrow.

"May I ask where the money comes from? Please don't say drug dealing."

Wanda laughs, looking away. 

"Shut up." She retorts the next moment. "So what, you'll take it?"

You look at her suspiciously. You weren't going to pressure her into telling you what she didn't want, wishing to give her privacy. 

"All right, Wands."

Wanda smiles at you, raising her hand. You give a "Hi-Five" and the waitress looks at you curiously.

//-//

Maybe renting a cabin with the woman you've secretly loved for years wasn't your best idea, but you're handling things well.

You were only going to stay three days, and if you could disguise that you completely melted when Wanda touched you or how cute she looked when she woke up, you'd be fine.

The cabin had two rooms, which was the best thing for your sanity.

After you had finished unpacking, you decided to prepare something to eat.

"How do you know how to cook this?" Wanda asks in surprise as she joins you in the kitchen. "By the way, how do you have the ingredients to make it?"

"I bought it on the way, smarty pants" You replied with amusement, moving around the kitchen to prepare the Sokovian Stew. "And I've cooked it for you before, I don't understand the surprise."

Wanda laughed lightly, remembering.

"Sorry, you're right." She says leaning against the countertop as she watches you cook.

"Come here and see if the seasoning is good." You tell her a moment later as you are stirring the pots. 

You raise the spoon toward Wanda, expecting her to take it. But she just brings her mouth close to the cutlery, and looks at you as she tastes the food. You swallow dryly, feeling your heart race at the intensity of her gaze. You almost choke when she lets out a groan of satisfaction.

"It's delicious."

"Uh." It is the only sound you are able to produce, as Wanda looks up at you with an innocent smile. You quickly face the pot again, trying not to embarrass yourself so much.

"I'll set the table for us."

//-//

"Are you sure food is not your love language?" Wanda asks suggestively when you hand her a mug of hot chocolate. You are on the veranda, a few hours after dinner. You laugh lightly.

"My what?"

She settles into the seat she is sitting on, turning her face to you as you sit down next to her.

"Your love language." She explains with a smile. "There are several, one of them is cooking for the people you love."

You frown slightly, growing thoughtful.

"That's hardly mine, Wands." - You reply. "I hate cooking."

"What are you talking about, you always cook for me!" She retorts with a mix of confusion and humor in her voice, you shrug.

"It's because it's you." You say looking away.

"What does that mean?" She asks and you sigh lightly, taking a sip of your chocolate. Wanda looks at you incredulously. "You're not going to tell me then. Okay."

"Tell me more about these love languages." You ask next trying to change the focus of the subject from yourself. 

Wanda seems excited to talk about it.

"Okay, I think there are five kinds." She starts with a smile, you're just happy to hear her say anything. And she sounds absolutely adorable when she talks about something that gets her excited. "They are words of affirmation, quality time, touch, acts of service, and gifts."

"What happened to cooking?" You tease and she pats your shoulder, laughing.

"I guess it comes into gift giving" She says thoughtfully. "But I read somewhere that it was like a sixth language".

You make an understanding noise with your mouth, but Wanda interprets your lack of reaction as a lack of interest, and apologizes that she is boring you. You frown.

"Hey, what are you talking about? I love this idea!" You assure her, and she smiles shyly after a moment. "I was just wondering which language I fit best in. That is, if I'm the one who decides that?"

"It's not a decision really." She says. "It's more of an analysis in how you behave. Usually the people around you notice."

"Oh, right." You grumble in agreement. "You really would make a terrible analyst then." You tease and Wanda laughs, pushing you lightly and making a face when she almost knocks over your hot chocolate. You laugh. "That story that I cook to show my love, not a thing."

Wanda rolls her eyes amused and then looks at you curiously.

"Oh yeah, and what do you think your language is then?"

You think for a moment.

"I have no idea." You confess and Wanda laughs looking away, "That's harder than it sounds."

"Take a guess."

"Um... I don't think they are words of affirmation." You say and she looks at you expectantly, wanting you to talk more about it. You smile awkwardly. "I never know what to say, so that would be the last language I would think of."

Wanda smiles, biting her lip and shaking her head slightly.

"What else?"

You inhale deeply, thinking. 

"Well, I'm not the best gift-giving person." You counters. "Maybe quality time is a good option, but I'm not sure either. I'm pretty anti-social."

"I think quality time might be your thing." She says with a fond smile.

You raise your eyebrow curiously.

"Why do you say that?"

"Look around you." She replies with a smile, and you understand that this is exactly what is happening now. You give a shy little laugh.

"Can I make it official then?" You ask and Wanda laughs.

"I don't know, don't you like the others?"

"I forget which ones they are." You confess and Wanda laughs. 

"Touch and Acts of Service." She clarifies and you nod in understanding.

" Okay let me think about it." You begin running your fingers through your hair quickly. "How can anyone know that touch is their thing?"

"I guess if the person likes to be touched." Wanda says and you raise your eyebrow in confusion. "Like, if you like to give hugs or cuddle."

"Do some people not like that?"

Wanda laughs.

"I think we have an answer." She says and you smile, shrugging.

"No, seriously. I don't know." You speak. "I guess I have no problem with touching people I like, but I can't tell if that would be my language."

"Okay." Wanda says and you look at her curiously as she picks up your mug and places it on the table along with hers. She moves a little closer to you, and entwines your hands together. You swallow dryly.

"Do you like that?" She asks gently, and you look into her eyes, glowing green. You nod shyly, and Wanda smiles. She releases your hands to slip her arms over your shoulder, and you melt into her embrace almost instantly. "Is that good?"

"Yes." You whisper with flushed cheeks. Wanda releases you next.

"I think we have a winner." She jokes, and you giggle awkwardly. 

"What about you? What's your language?"

"Definitely quality time" She says and you smile. 

"I think words of affirmation are your thing too."

Wanda looks at you curiously.

"Why?"

"Because you're nice." You say. "You say nice things all the time I mean. You are an affectionate person."

"Maybe words of affirmation are your thing." She hits back with flushed cheeks, you laugh awkwardly looking away.

"What happens if people have different love languages?" You ask after a moment. "Do they fight?"

Wanda sighs lightly, thoughtfully. 

"I don't really know." She replies. "I think they each show their love in a different way, and if they talk, there's no reason to fight."

You nod in agreement and then straighten your posture, extending your hand to Wanda.

"Miss Maximoff, I swear I will try to show my affection to you with words of affirmation and quality time" You tell her in a fake serious tone, and Wanda joins in on the joke, agreeing to shake your hand.

"I swear I will try to show my affection to you with touch and also with quality time." She repeats the pledge, and you both look serious for a second, before laughing.

Neither of you realizes that by proposing to act outside your comfort zone for each other, perhaps acts of service are the best suitable love language for you two.

//-//

The second day at the cabin is like heaven on earth.

You wake up early, have coffee with Wanda, and walk a short trail with her until lunchtime. You cook again, and she teases you about it. In the afternoon you play monopoly, and cards. She makes you tea, and then you two sit on the sofa, each with a book, just enjoying each other's company.

It must be about ten o'clock at night when Wanda starts to yawn. You two are already lying on the couch, and you poke her ribs with your foot and she laughs lightly.

"Go to bed." You tell her with a smile, and she looks quickly at you.

"I don't want to sleep." She says and yawns next, making you laugh.

"Of course you don't."

Wanda laughs and then closes the book, placing it on the small table beside the sofa. She buries her body against the cushions afterwards. You laugh as you look at her.

"What are you doing?"

"I don't want to get up." She replies by closing her eyes. You laugh, closing the book and sitting down. You place the book on the coffee table, and when Wanda yawns again you sigh. 

"Come on you big baby, I'll take you to bed." - You tell her as you approach. Wanda lets out an exclamation as picks her up and carries her, blushing as she places her hands on your neck. You were laughing and didn't realize it.

When you reach your bedroom door, Wanda uses her powers to open the door, and you look at her quickly to thank her, which is a mistake, because you realize how close you are. It's hard to reach the bed without shaking now.

"Here we go." You mumble clumsily as you lay her down on the bed. Wanda doesn't let go of your neck however, and you swallow dryly. "Wanda?"

"Can I kiss you?" she asks breathlessly, and you feel your stomach drop. Your bodies are very close together, as you bent down to place her on the bed. Your hands are stretched out beside her neck, to keep you from falling on top of her.

"Are you sure?" You reply in the same tone, your voice husky. Wanda nods biting her lips lightly, her face very flushed.

You slowly advance against her and she meets you on the way. You both sigh as your lips touch. It is as overwhelming as you ever imagined it would be.

Wanda nuzzles the back of your neck lightly and you slide your tongue against hers, changing the intensity of the kiss.

She sighs, pulling you down and you shiver as you rest your weight against her.

When you pull away to take a breath, your foreheads stay together.

"Wanda..." You start breathlessly, trying to decide what to say.

"I like you." She confesses in the same tone, her voice husky. You feel your heart race. "Is that okay?"

You let out a short laugh, nodding. You kiss her again, smiling against her lips. 

You kiss for several minutes, and when your lips are swollen and you are hot, you part. It's still early for this, you don't want to press Wanda.

"Maybe I should go to my room" You whisper against her lips, finding hard to reason with such closeness. Wanda kisses you again, making you sigh. You are almost giving up on the idea of getting up when she breaks the kiss, biting your lip as she does so.

"Goodnight, darling" She whispers and you melt at the nickname, but smile, starting to get up. Wanda is still lying there, just as affected by the make-out session as you are, and you just smile shyly at her as you say goodnight and go back to your room.

You both have silly smiles on your faces as you fall asleep.

//-//

There is a delicious tension in your relationship with Wanda now.

You got up early on your last day, and went into the kitchen to make breakfast for the two of you. While you were preparing coffee, Wanda woke up.

She stretched, and seemed to hesitate slightly about what to do next, but you were already handing her a cup of coffee and kissing her cheek before walking over to the table. 

You sit in silence, glances and smiles stolen between the small talk.

When you have finished eating, you turn on the television, and Wanda sits down next to you. 

"Come here" you ask softly, and she smiles as she approaches, cuddling up to you. You watch some silly movie together, and you like to feel Wanda laughing against you.

In the afternoon, Wanda is the one who prepares lunch, and you lean on the counter when you finally decide to look at your cell phone. You sigh as you look at the number of missed calls and notifications. There are at least a dozen messages from Sam saying that something was wrong.

"What is it?" Wanda asks when she notices your expression.

"Dever calling us" You reply with a mixture of weariness and irony, shaking the cell phone. Wanda exchanges an understanding look with you, and you put the cell phone on the counter, sinking your face into your hands. She gives the pot one last check, and you are slightly startled when she moves in front of you, gently pulling your hands away from your face.

"I just wanted to stay here forever" You confess and let out a short laugh "I know it's selfish, but I just... it feels like my whole life I've been fighting." You tell her with a sad smile. "This must be the most at peace and content I've felt in a long time"

Wanda raises her hands to caress your cheeks.

"It's not selfish." She says tenderly. "I know exactly how it feels, darling. Ever since I was a child, Pietro and I went from one fight to another." She tells you and you let your hands rest against her waist. "I can't thank you enough for giving me moments like that."

You smile, shaking your head slightly. Then you sink your face into Wanda's neck and she hugs you back.

Now that your cell phone is no longer on silent, it doesn't take long for another call to come in. You grumble when you let go of Wanda to answer it. 

Sam is saying something about a new Captain America and you are frowning, but smile when Wanda presses her fingers against your forehead to get you to stop grimacing.

"Are you listening to me?" Sam asks half impatiently on the other end of the line. You had been silent because Wanda is the most beautiful woman you have ever seen and she is standing right in front of you, smiling.

"Of course, Sammy." You then reply, raising your free hand to Wanda's cheek caressing her skin. "I'll come back to the compound tonight and then we'll talk better."

"Okay, just hurry please." He asks and looks tired. "Things are a mess".

You hang up and move forward, kissing Wanda intensely. She sighs against your lips, and you wish you could call Sam again and tell him you're not going anywhere. 

//-//

When you return to the compound again there is a lot of work.

You find out that Sam is going to become the new Captain America and you couldn't be prouder.

You are no stranger to the idea that he should be the new leader of the Avengers, as Steve was. It feels right and you tell him so.

He seems surprised that you refuse the leadership, but you assure him that it was never really your thing, you would be happy in solo missions and other activities. 

Besides this, things with Wanda were going in a direction you never imagined.

Part of you kept repeating that she would never look at you if Vision were alive, but you suppress these thoughts as much as you can.

You start going out frequently, casual encounters that leave you two with flushed cheeks and racing hearts. There are some kisses. But in general, Wanda is already so much a part of your life that nothing has really changed. You live together in the complex, and spend almost all your free time together. 

There are many missions now, many people needing help.

Four months after you started to go out, Shuri calls you.

She apologizes for not getting in touch sooner, explaining how complicated things have become in Wakanda as well. You assure her that it's okay and that you would like to visit her when you can. She has a mysterious tone when she says that she needs your help with a project, and that she would have more information in a few days. You are curious and thoughtful as you hang up the cell phone and walk back to your room.

Wanda is strangely quiet the next day. You don't understand what is going on, but when you check the calendar, you bite the inside of your cheek. It was the anniversary of Vision's death. For you it had been five years, but for her, only a few months. Sighing sadly, you prepare something hot for her to eat.

When you arrive in her room, she has a sad and thoughtful countenance and is slightly startled when you enter without knocking, but you just smile and put the tray of soup on the table.

"I brought you some food, baby" You say tenderly and Wanda looks at you just for a moment. You notice a piece of paper in her hands and have a curious expression. "What's that?"

Wanda's eyes immediately fill with tears, and you blink in concern. She holds out the paper to you.

It is a house plan. It is stamped "property sold" with the date close to when you traveled to the cottage. You understand where the money came from now. But what catches your eye is the scrawl in red in the center, which reads "To grow old together, V."

Swallowing dryly, you fold the paper again, leaving it on the table before returning to Wanda.

"I'm sorry, I just... I just miss him and it seems like everything changed all at once"

"No, Wanda. It's okay." You assure her as you sit up and wrap her in a hug, which made her cry, but also relax her immediately. "I wish I could take this pain away from you, but I can't. I'm really sorry for the life you two couldn't live together."

Wanda sobs against your T-shirt and while you soothe her to sleep, you decide what you are going to do.

//-//

Shuri called. So you were going to Wakanda, Bucky next to you on the plane. 

You teased him one last time about his new name "white wolf" before you got off.

You hugged your friend tight before you two left for the laboratory.

"I managed to recover the wreckage of your machine" She tells you with animation. You push down any insecurity as you smile, and hand her the projects that have been locked away in your room for five years.

You will work together again. It will take some time, due to the amount of tasks, but you will have this as your main project.

After three days, you and Bucky return home.

Before you enter the compound, he calls out to you.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asks with a worried look, you nod.

"They belong together, Buck." You say with a bitter taste in your mouth. Bucky has an almost pitying look on his face and you hate it, so you are changing your stance. "Don't say anything to Wanda, though. I can't give her hopes like that and fail. She can only know if I succeed."

Bucky nods in understanding and you walk back.

//-//

Your heart and your body belong completely to Wanda Maximoff. You eventually realize this when you return to the compound, and even though you are secretly working to resurrect her dead boyfriend, you can't resist her.

Perhaps the best choice would have been to end things between you, but all you can do is completely melt in her presence. You laugh at her jokes, engage in her conversations, and fall apart in her kisses.

The trips to Wakanda become more frequent over the next month, and you begin to miss Wanda terribly when you are away, but you use this frustration to work.

It's May, and you'll need to travel again just three days after you arrive, and by the way things are going well, this should be your last trip to Wakanda. 

"Okay, Shuri, thanks for letting me know. I'll get everything ready." You tell her through the hologram in your room and she smiles before hanging up. You are startled when you notice Wanda at the door.

"Are you leaving again?" She asks annoyed and you nod sadly. 

You hope that Wanda will not be as upset as she has been the last few times. You obviously don't tell her the reason you go to Wakanda so much, and Bucky covers for you by saying it was confidential. It has been enough to maintain the logic that the less people knew, the less dangerous it was, and Wanda believes it.

"I'll call you while I'm there" You tell her trying to soften her annoyance as she walks into her room closing the door.

"It's not the same." She mumbles moving closer only to pass her arms around your torso. "I miss you."

You feel your heart soar as you hug her back. You know that the sentence refers to the new distance you have put between you, and part of you wants to confess everything. But you hold your words back.

"Everything is going to be okay, Wanda." You tell her disguising any sign of your recent need to cry. "This is going to be the last time."

Wanda then releases you, looking at you tenderly. You smile back, and she moves in to kiss you.

You know those kisses. The ones she only gives when you are alone, or when you have been apart too long. Kisses that are dangerous to cross barriers that you didn't know if she was ready to cross, and that also make your body hot and take your breath away.

Going out for almost seven months, this was the only line you hadn't crossed yet. Honestly, your cuddling sessions were borderline. But there were so many other things about your relationship that sex really wasn't the focal point. 

And then you had Wanda kissing you like this and you couldn't resist.

Letting your hands slide down her body, you felt her sigh against your lips as you squeezed her ass, pressing her forward against you.

You began to walk with Wanda around the room, exchanging passionate, hot kisses, until she stumbled on the bed and you fell over her body on the mattress.

When your clothes came off, you reached for one of her hands and entwined it in yours on top of her head, kissing her neck as you trembled at the sound of her moans.

Wanda came on your fingers, moaning your name with her eyes closed and mouth open as you kept your free hand entwined in hers. You looked at her with adoration, thinking she was absolutely perfect.

You came against her thigh, and then she came in your mouth a few moments later. You repeated it one more time until your bodies were too tired to do it again. 

You woke up first the next day, and while preparing coffee, you felt your face getting wet. You were going to lose her again. But you quickly wiped the tears away. She was never really yours to lose.

//-//

Bucky didn't come back to Wakanda with you, and you figured he had some other mission. You also insinuated that he was spending a lot of time outside the compound with Sam, and laughed when he got flushed and told you to go fuck yourself.

When you arrived at Shuri's lab, you didn't sleep properly for two weeks.

//-//

Non-Reader Pov

Bucky nodded slightly when Wanda entered the kitchen. She had been really upset these days, feeling lonely. But Y/N made the soldier promise to check on her girlfriend often and keep her company, so that's exactly what he's been doing.

After coffee, he suggested that they walk around the compound for a while, and the witch accepted.

"You know, I think Nat would like to see you two together." Commented the soldier with a smile. Wanda grumbled in agreement, slightly distracted, but then she assumed a confused expression.

"What do you mean?" She asked and Bucky blinked curiously. "How did Nat know that Y/N liked me?"

Bucky let out a short laugh also confused by the conversation.

"What do you mean, Wanda? Everyone knew all along."

Wanda stops walking, blinking with confusion.

"Bucky, what? No, Y/N and I only fell in love after Thanos, what do you..."

Bucky laughs in disbelief and confusion.

"Whoa, she really didn't tell you." He says surprised and at Wanda's expression, he straightens his posture, putting his hands in his pockets as he looks at her. "Look, maybe it wasn't the best idea for me to be the one to tell you, but I imagine since you're together now it won't make much difference." He says, sighing slightly. "She's been in love with you ever since you joined the Avengers. You were the reason she fought alongside Steve when he defied the law for me. Everyone always knew."

Wanda shook her head, surprised and incredulous.

"Bucky what are you saying?" Wanda muttered more to herself than to the soldier. Bucky just looked at her curiously.

"All these years, and you never knew." He said surprised.

Wanda felt her eyes fill with tears.

"But... Why didn't she say anything?" She asked holding back the tears. "I... She's been with me all this time, and... how could she not have said anything?"

Bucky shrugged. 

"You had Vision, Wanda. She didn't want to make things awkward." He says. "She used to tell Natasha that loving you was enough. She never needed you to love her back."

Wanda gasps in surprise and cries, running her hands through her hair. Thousands of memories flashing through her mind at once. All the times Y/N was by her side, their escapes from the tower, their pranks, their jokes. The way she always stood up for her, helped her on missions, in training. How she blew up the TV set in the briefing room the day the government agent broadcast the report of what happened on Sokovia to the team in an attempt to shock them with Wanda's mistake. Pietro's grave, the way she took care of everything and assured Wanda that she was happy to help. But mostly in the way she always smiled when Wanda told her about Vision, how she supported her when they were on the run, and how she didn't leave her side when she was grieving. 

Wanda couldn't imagine how much it must have hurt to watch the person you love, loving someone else.

Wanda let out a dry laugh, finally letting the tears flow. 

"All this time, and she loved me in secret." She mumbles breathlessly. "How could she bear it?"

Bucky looked away.

"Well, she's always tougher than most."

Wanda shook her head, laughing sadly.

"Take me to Wakanda."

//-//

Reader Pov

You did it.

"Shuri, is this really happening?" You ask with a mixture of surprise and excitement. Your eyes completely glaze over in front of you. 

The door to the machine you created then opened, a metallic noise filling the room. It took the machine man a few seconds to open his eyes, and when he did you held your breath.

"You really did it." Shuri said to you impressed and looking forward as well.

"We did." You retorted taking a step towards the being that was looking at you with curiosity. He seemed to be getting used to the idea of being online again. "Vision?"

The question escaped your lips firmly, although your heart was racing.

Vision moved out of the machine, looking around.

"I'm confused." The male voice filled the room. "I think I've been asleep. My last memory is of a field."

You gasp, feeling your eyes fill with water.

"I can't believe you're here, buddy" You tell him, stepping forward to hug him. Vision doesn't respond however, still appearing to be in shock.

When you let go, you are smiling.

"I'll explain everything to you, Vis."

Shuri leads you to a meeting room, and she keeps checking Vision's functionality signals while you talk for a bit. You tell him about the blip, about his death, and a little about Thanos. He is different, maybe it is the stone. He seems more mechanical and logical than ever, talking about statistics and asking about social impacts. You just think he needs to get used to the world again.

"There's someone coming to see you" Shuri announces after a moment while fiddling with her computer. 

"T'Challa wants to check if we are eating properly again?" You joke and Shuri laughs, but then she frowns.

"Actually it's..."

The door to the room then opens. You get up from your armchair in surprise to see Wanda standing there. She looks at you with adoration in her eyes, but her expression falls completely when she notices who is beside you.

Her face is a mixture of surprise, disbelief, and confusion. You swallow dryly, ignoring the urge to cry, and force yourself to smile shyly.

Wanda walks towards you slowly.

"I've been working to bring him back, Wanda." You explain in a husky voice. "To bring him back to you."

Wanda's eyes are filled with tears, and she gasps as Vision rises from the armchair, looking at her curiously. 

"How...?" Wanda asks breathlessly, but she sobs then moves forward to embrace the robot. 

You feel your heart break, because it is over. You smile however, nodding to Shuri lightly as you leave the two of them alone.

When you reach the hallway, your hands and legs are shaking and you lean on the wall to keep from falling to the floor. Bucky is joining the two of you as Shuri looks at you with concern.

"Everything okay?" She asks touching your arm lightly. You nod frantically.

"I did what I had to do." You say breathlessly, holding back tears. "She...She's happy."

Bucky exchanges a look with Shuri and then he is asking if he can hug you. You nod slightly and when he does, you collapse.

//-//

You are avoiding Wanda.

It's childish, but you feel your heart ache every time you think about seeing her, so you're trying to buy time to only talk to her again when you can show that you're happy for her.

It has been two days since she arrived in Wakanda.

You and Bucky are in rooms in the same hallway, and you know that Shuri has set up facilities for Vision and Wanda to be together. You haven't seen her yet, and it's all due to the fact that you accepted whatever task the king had to keep you well away from the castle.

You returned very late to your room on the third day, and Bucky was waiting for you in the hallway.

"You two need to talk." He said, following you into the room as you sighed.

"I know, Buck." You grumble taking off your jacket. "I just need time, I...I think I'll crumble if I see her again"

Bucky runs his hand across his face, slightly impatient. 

"No, you don't understand." He says. "You just brought her dead boyfriend back, you can't just ignore her."

You throw yourself on the bed, closing your eyes.

"I'm really considering alcoholism now." You grumble, and Bucky laughs lightly. 

"Talk to her." He says before turning to leave.

You take a while to fall asleep after that.

//-//

You see Wanda again. At a safe distance. Your heart feels like it is going to jump out of your chest.

She and Vision go out for a walk just before lunchtime. You look at them from the balcony, their silhouettes in the field of flowers. It's beautiful. You don't realize that you are crying.

Walking to Shuri's labs, you intend to accept some project, but she has a worried look on her face when she looks at you.

" There' s something wrong." She comments by showing you a graph that you don't understand at first. "While you were behaving like a child, we had some problems." The teasing makes you blush slightly, but you are too worried to respond. 

"What happened?"

Shuri sighs weakly.

"Wanda and Vision talked for a few hours. And then she realized what we didn't anticipate." She explained as she changed the chart. "Without the mind stone, Vision is just a computer program. There's nothing human in him anymore."

You blinked in confusion, and let out a short laugh.

"What are you talking about?" You ask, but before she answers you are talking again. "Vision was always a computer. His love for Wanda was his humanity."

Shuri shook her head in the negative.

"The mind stone created a connection with Wanda." She explained. "Without it, he is just a set of algorithms. He remembers everything he experienced, but he can no longer feel."

You gasp in surprise and then sit down on the floor, trying to understand exactly what you had done.

"I think our mistake was not accepting death." Shuri said after a while. "We can't reverse something like that. We should know."

"I can't believe I did that." You commented with a dry laugh. "I brought him back only for her to lose him again. My god what the fuck is wrong with me?"

Shuri walked over to you, kneeling in front of you, and placing a hand on your knee.

"You didn't know, okay?" She said trying to reassure you. " Your intentions were the best".

"That doesn't matter now". You grumble bitterly.

Eventually you get up, and decide that you should apologize.

Shuri tells you that she will handle everything with Vision, that she would ask him if he would like to continue to exist, if he had a purpose, or if he would like to be deactivated. You told her to make sure that he knew that he would always have a place on the Avengers team, and she smiled saying that Wakanda would also accept him.

//-//

Your heart was racing when you knocked on Wanda's door.

She used her powers to open it, and you walked in, finding her sitting on the bed, pensive.

"You finally decided to talk to me." She teased looking at the television. You swallowed dryly, twiddling your fingers nervously.

"I talked to Shuri." You begin with emotion showing in your voice. "She told me about...about everything. I'm so sorry Wanda." You cry. "I didn't know this was going to happen, I didn't mean to hurt you..."

Wanda blinks confusedly getting up as she approaches you, raising her hands to your face.

"It's okay." She assures wiping away your tears.

"No, it isn't. I brought him back only for you to lose him again, I can't believe I could do that to you, I'm sorry..."

"Stop. No." Wanda says shaking her head, her eyes filled with tears. She swallows her emotion as she looks at you tenderly. "You gave me a chance to say goodbye to him."

"Wanda..."

"I didn't have that chance before." She continues with a sad smile, "I am grateful for it."

"W-what?" you sigh breathlessly with incredulity.

Wanda smiled, stroking your cheek lightly.

"All this time, and you've been loving me in secret." She spoke tenderly, and you felt your face heat up.

"How...?"

"It doesn't matter." She interrupts shaking her head slightly, the look in her eyes is one of pure adoration. "I still don't understand how you can hide this from me, and..."

You shake your head, letting the tears flow.

"I just wanted you to be happy, Wanda." You interrupt with a smile. "It didn't have to be with me."

Wanda gasps slightly, and moves forward to kiss you on the mouth. The kiss doesn't last long, however, and she breaks away to bring your foreheads together.

"I love you." Wanda whispers against your lips, you sigh in surprise. "Sorry it took so long."

You let out a short laugh, hugging her. When she hooks her arms around your neck, you lift her off the ground, and Wanda lets out a giggle. You spin around, smiling, your chest exploding with happiness. 

//-//

On your last day in Wakanda, you visit Vision.

He is in one of the castle rooms, looking contemplative, and pours you a cup of tea.

After you talk about what he wants to become, you hug him goodbye and he looks at you curiously.

"I never directly asked you what your motivation was for doing all this." Vision begins with a curious posture. "Shuri told me about your affection for Wanda, but I never understood precisely."

You look away from the floor, kind of awkwardly.

"I thought you two were soulmates." You say to him, and Vision observes you for a few seconds before speaking.

"How could we be soul mates, if I never had a soul?" He asks and you raise your face in surprise. Vision just smiles slightly as he puts his hand on your shoulder. "I wish you had told her how you felt in the beginning. It would have prevented so much suffering."

"Hey, we would feel your loss even if Wanda liked me..."

"I was talking about you." He interrupts with a smile and you fall silent, not knowing what to say next. "I hope you'll be happy together. You have a high level of compatibility."

You laughed at the mechanical way Vision spoke and gave him one last hug before leaving in farewell.

//-//

You return to Wakanda the following year. Many things are different now, from your address, to Wanda's rings, and your last names.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

If I Fell For You (Part 2) - Baseball Caps & Stroller Naps

Summary: The reader gets into the swing of things around the Ackles household and starts having more one on one time with Jensen. He even offers to set her up with a friend of his. When he invites her to a family outing as a friend though, she gets another glimpse that he might not be as put together as he appears...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Square: Daddy!Jensen

Word Count: 5,900ish

Warnings: language, mention of death of a spouse/death of a parent

A/N: Things are starting to happen! This was also written for @supernatural-jackles​ Tell Me A Story Bingo!

________

“Good morning,” you said the next day as Jensen walked into the kitchen covered in sweaty workout clothes.

“Morning,” he said, going to the fridge to grab a drink. “Get the kids to school okay?”

“Yup,” you said, Jensen sniffing the air and humming as he walked over to where a loaf of banana bread was cooling in the rack. “Ah, it’s still too hot. Wait another half hour.”

“Fine,” he grumbled. “It smells amazing by the way. I don’t think anything’s been baked in this house in six months.”

“I’ve always enjoyed it,” you said, Jensen taking a seat on top of the counter. He chugged down the cold bottle of water, some of it dripping down the corners of his mouth. “Enjoy sleeping in today?”

“You don’t know the half of it. I feel amazing.”

“You look rested for the first time since I’ve met you,” you said. “You should sleep in on the weekends more too. The kids don’t need to be up at dawn.”

“No, they don’t,” he said. “I do love sleep too. You do okay with getting the three of them going on your own today?”

“Yeah. JJ’s old enough to get herself dressed and make her bed and do a few things on her own. The twins are a balancing act but the trick is to give yourself double the amount of time you think you need and you’ll never be late.”

“Not a bad tip,” he said as you finished wiping off a glass and picked up a pad and pen. “Whatcha working on?”

“Ideas for crafts and that sort of thing. You guys have a lot of supplies already so I was thinking of some ideas to do this week,” you said.

“You know...you can stick them in front of a TV too. They have their shows they like. We aren’t big on tracking screen time,” he said. “As long as they play and do some kind of creative thing everyday they can watch TV for a few hours in a row if they want. Our parents didn’t worry about that shit when we were kids, you know?”

“No, they didn’t do that,” you said. He lifted up the bottom of his muscle tank and wiped off his face, your eyes going straight down to the pad so you wouldn’t risk staring. “Any work scheduled for today?”

“I gotta wash up, head to the brewery for a few to check on things. I have some voice acting work I’m doing right now so I go to a place downtown and record that. That’ll be my afternoon. I can handle making dinner tonight. I should be back around four thirty, maybe a hair after,” he said. 

“Alright,” you said. “Anything you need at the store today?”

“Nah, we got plenty here,” he said. He wiped off his face with his shirt again, using his collar this time. You handed him a dish towel and he smiled, rubbing it over his neck and head. “Sorry. I’m dripping aren’t I.”

“A little. Do you work out a lot?” you asked. 

“No more than the average person. Try to do thirty minutes in the morning most days of the week. It’s sort of been my only alone time lately,” he said.

“Are you a runner?”

“God no. I’m not built for that. I like boxing and HIIT, weights, that sort of stuff. Part of my job is to look a certain way so if I’m gonna be the tough guy…”

“You gotta look like a tough guy?” you asked. He smiled and you looked him up and down. “Don’t get me wrong. You’re a strong guy, that’s pretty obvious. But you’re not a tough guy.”

“Oh I’m not?” he asked but there was a lightness to his voice.

“Tough guys tend to be assholes. You’re too nice for that,” you said. 

“I suppose you have a point,” he said, sliding off the counter. He stepped over to the banana bread and picked up the knife nearby, slicing off a piece for himself and popping it in his mouth. “Hot. Hot.”

“I told you so,” you said with a small laugh.

“Tastes delicious though,” he said with his mouth full. You shook your head as he ate another piece and turned to go upstairs.

“Jensen,” you said, pointing at the sweaty dish towel. 

“Ugh, yes mom,” he said, swiping it away with a smile. 

“Thank you,” you said, tapping on your notepad. You felt his presence beside you, not to mention the smell, and turned your head up, Jensen smiling back. “Yes?”

“Aren’t you due for a break?” he asked.

“You don’t really get how this nanny thing works yet, do you.”

“Yeah well...I’m not a shitty boss so I guess you’ll have to get used to that too. Take a break Y/N. Have some coffee on the balcony. It’s a sunny January day. Enjoy it,” he said. You rolled your eyes and he pointed at the back door before he headed upstairs. You bit your bottom lip and glanced at the clock. You had been going for over three hours non-stop and one of those had been spent trying to convince a four year old he had to wear pants to daycare.

You turned to leave the kitchen when you heard a tsk. You jumped and slipped on the rug in front of the sink, falling backwards straight down to the hardwood floor.

“Sorry! Sorry!” he said as he rushed over. “I’m always tripping over that thing.”

“I’m fine,” you said as you sat up with his help. Your ass hurt but you knew you’d be alright. “Maybe we move the rug from the very trippable area?”

He swallowed and stared at you for a long moment before you smiled.

“How about we put it outside your office?” you asked softly. He nodded and you picked up one end of the long strip of fabric. He went to the other end and picked it up, backing up as you walked it over to the other side of the house. You laid it out in front of his closed door, smiling as you straightened it up. “There we go. Safe and sound.”

You headed back to the kitchen, Jensen lingering behind you.

“I was...gonna say you can make...you can use my coffee machine,” he said quietly. 

“Okay,” you said quietly. “Jensen.”

“Hm?”

“Stuff is stuff. This isn’t a museum. It’s a home. It’s gonna change over time.”

“I know. It’s just that rug...it is so damn ugly and I hate it,” he said with a smile. “I wanted to get rid of it the day she brought it home.”

“Wives have a way of getting the last word in,” you said. He chuckled and you got out a mug for yourself. “Tell me to shove it if this is too personal but are you sure you want to get back out into the dating world? It’s rough out there.”

“It is. Until it isn’t,” he said.

“You’re a hopeless romantic, aren’t you.”

“Guilty as charged.” He rubbed the back of his neck and his cheeks flushed for a brief moment.

“Women like hopeless romantics,” you said. “Just don’t get taken advantage of for that. There’s some not so nice women out there too.”

“Afraid I’ll fall for some ditz?” he asked.

“No, I don’t think you’d do that. But someone might hurt you and you’ve been through enough. Maybe just...don’t fall in love at first sight or something like that,” you said. “Alright?”

“Never was much good at that,” he said to himself while you grabbed your coffee mug. “You believe in that sort of thing?”

“I’d like to. But you’re more of the expert on falling in love than I am,” you said.

“Maybe it’s not first sight but within a few days, a week, yeah I knew I was in love,” he said.

“Well if that happens again let me know and I’ll make sure this chick is good for you,” you said.

“I didn’t know my nanny came with bodyguard services,” he chuckled.

“That was under special skills on my resume,” you said as you headed over to the door to the balcony. “You should wash up. Don’t want to be late.”

“No I better not be,” he said. He turned to head upstairs, pausing on the first step. “You know, no one’s an expert at falling in love. Even those of us who were once married.”

“Oh don’t be a hopeless romantic for me getting my shit together too. We’ll be here for years,” you laughed. 

“Just sayin’...maybe we’ll both find somebody. Not that we need anyone to be happy but...you know what I mean,” he said. 

“Men don’t really talk about love like that you know.”

“I do,” he said. You smiled and he returned it. 

“That’s why all the good men get taken early, the ones that talk like that,” you said.

“I was older than you when I got married. Maybe I’ll get married again someday. We’re out there. I promise.”

“Go shower,” you said, waving him off. You slipped outside, closing the door behind you. You leaned over the railing with your mug and let out a sigh. “You have to a be a fucking hopeless romantic too don’t you. Fucking perfect at everything.”

You lowered your head and took a deep breath. 

“It’s a crush, it’s a crush,” you said, closing your eyes. “Just a crush. He’s your boss and a widow and he bought a birthday cake for me.”

You opened your eyes and glanced into the mug, taking another deep breath.

“He’s just nice. That’s it. Even if he’s…” you trailed off. You took a long sip of the hot liquid, not caring you were burning your tongue. Jensen was simply a nice person and that was that. You had a crush on the attractive single dad you were nannying for. There was nothing wrong with that and you knew for a fact it’d be gone by the end of the week tops.

“Ow,” you groaned a few days later. You opened your eyes and heard a knock at the door to your suite. “Yeah?”

“You okay in there? I thought I heard a crash,” said Jensen. 

“I’m fine,” you said, sitting up with a grunt, leaning back against your bed. “Shit.”

“Y/N, are you sure you’re alright?” he asked again.

“No,” you said with a sigh. “The door’s open.”

You peaked through your open door down the hall, Jensen opening the one to the suite and offering a friendly smile. You nodded and he walked inside, frowning at your cut up knee. 

“I got blood on the rug,” you said. “Do we have bleach?”

“I thought we agreed earlier this week a rug is just a rug,” he said, squatting down and looking at your knee. He looked up and saw your overturned garbage can in your closet where you’d been trying to reorganize a few clothes. “Next time use the step stool in the garage?”

“Yeah,” you said, your face hot. “I’m fine really. Just want to clean up the blood before it sets in.”

“It’s a few drops,” he said, helping you stand with a wince. “You got any first aid stuff?”

“Yeah,” you said, Jensen crossing his arms. “No.”

“Come on,” he said, putting his hands on your shoulders and walking you down the hall. “Scraped up knees are my specialty.”

“Jensen,” you said, stopping at the kitchenette island and bending your leg a few times. 

“I’ll be right back,” he said. He left and you hopped over to the couch, stretching your leg out. The bleeding had stopped, just a thin cut on your knee cap where you’d hit it, but you knew you were in for a nasty bruise. He returned with a bottle and cotton ball in one hand, a bandage and ice pack in the other. 

“Sorry,” you said, Jensen setting the items down on the coffee table.

“Why would you apologize for getting hurt?” he said.

“I should have my own first aid supplies,” you said. 

“Ah. So you’re as stubborn as I am when you’re not feeling great,” he said. You looked down at your lap and took a deep breath.

“Am I fired?” you asked. 

“No? Why the fuck would I fire you?” he said. 

“I don’t know,” you said, picking up the bottle of rubbing alcohol.

“Have you been fired for getting hurt before?” he asked, watching you hold the cotton ball against the open bottle top and tip it over, soaking the liquid in. You pretended to not hear him and put the bottle back, wiping the ball over the cut, a deep red mark already on your skin. “Y/N.”

“Yes, I have,” you said. You set the ball on the table and picked up the bandage, trying to angle it over your knee. He rolled his eyes and took it out of your hand, bending down and turning it around, pressing it gently over your skin. 

“I’m pretty sure that’s illegal,” he said as he looked up at you.

“Do I look like I have an HR department I can go to? They were dicks anyways,” you said.

“If you’re ever hurt, big or small, just tell me,” he said. He rested the ice pack over your knee and you sat back, throwing it up on the couch for you to lay there. “Promise I won’t fire you for it.”

“Well if I can’t do my job I’m not much use to you,” you said.

“Are all wealthy people assholes that act like that?” he asked. You shook your head and smiled. “Good.”

“I’ve nannied for eight different families, nine counting yours. Some were very good people,” you said.

“But you were just the help to them, even the good ones,” he said.

“I am the help. That’s the whole point of me being there,” you said. 

“Do me a favor? Don’t assume just because you’re someone’s employee that they think of you as just the help,” he said, picking up the first aid supplies.

“Sorry.”

“Why do you apologize for…” he said, muttering to himself as you looked down. “If I ever make you feel like that, smack me in the head, alright?”

“Alright,” you said quietly. He nodded and left with the items, returning a moment later with some cleaning spray, ducking into your room for only a moment before exiting.

“It’s all clean,” he said. He lingered at the door and put a hand on it. “Leave that ice pack on for fifteen minutes and pop it back in the freezer. Put it back on for a bit before bed.”

“Thanks,” you said. 

“It’s no problem,” he said. He still lingered and you took a deep breath.

“You should call someone, talk to them,” you said. He looked over his shoulder and you smiled. “You seem like you want to talk to somebody tonight is all.”

“I think I’m gonna go for a drive, maybe stop at a friend’s. The kids are all in bed,” he said. “If that’s cool.”

“Yeah go take a second for yourself,” you said. “I got everything here.”

“Thanks,” he said. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Night, Jensen.”

One Week Later

“Y/N,” said Jensen as you washed your car in the driveway on a Saturday morning. You dropped the soapy sponge in the bucket and straightened yourself out. “Got plans today?”

“Uh, I was gonna run to the grocery store in a minute but other than that, no. Need me to watch the kids?”

“No. We were going out to lunch and then going to a little car show was all and we were wondering if you’d like to join us. Totally up to you. My treat.”

“You don’t want me to watch the kids?” you asked. He laughed and crossed his arms at you. “I’m confused.”

“Do you want to hang out with us today? For fun?” he asked.

“Oh,” you said. “That’s okay. You enjoy your time with the kids.”

“How do I make this clearer,” he said, walking over to you and looking down. “I want you to come with us, as a friend, to do something fun, like friends do. This is not work. Come if you want to.”

“You sure you want me to come?” you asked. He rolled his eyes and plopped his baseball cap on your head as he walked away.

“Yes. And wear sunscreen,” he said. “We’re leaving at eleven thirty.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll see you guys then.”

“There’s something about a burger that’s been cooked in a greasy pop up kitchen that just adds to the flavor,” you said as you took a bite of your cheese burger at the car show.

“It’s probably the grease,” he said, walking one hand on his burger, the other holding Arrow’s hand. She wiped her own little hand on his leg and he sighed as he looked down. “Arrow. I got napkins in my pocket.”

“Oh,” she said, wiping her face against him.

“No one mentions this part,” he chuckled. He picked her up and threw her over his shoulders once he was done with his food, humming as he pushed the stroller with a sleeping Zeppelin inside. 

“Dad, I gotta go to the bathroom,” said JJ. 

“I’ll take her and we can catch up with you guys?” you said. He mouthed a thank you to you as you headed over to the women’s room. You used the bathroom as well, finishing before her and waiting outside for her. “All set?”

“Yeah. Can we get fried dough?” she asked.

“Sure,” you said. You let her lead the way in line and got a plate for the two of you, taking a seat at a picnic table so she could dig in. “Taste yummy?”

“Oh yeah,” she said. “Dad likes fried dough a lot too.”

“Everybody does,” you said, taking a piece off the corner.

“Y/N, you don’t have a mom either right?” she said. “That’s what dad said.”

“Well that’s a funny question. I got a mom and so do you. They just aren’t around anymore is all,” you said. “What’s up?”

“I’m happy you stay with us I guess is all. I know you’re not mom and you work for dad but you kinda are and I like it when dad’s happy again,” she said.

“Me too. You doing okay, kiddo?” you asked. “It’s okay if you still miss your mom.”

“I do but I’m not sad anymore. Dad says when I get real old I can see her again so that’s cool,” she said, taking a big bite.

“It definitely is cool,” you said. “Maybe our mom’s are hanging out right now.”

“You think so?” she asked.

“Maybe. I bet they get up to some fun stuff up there,” you said. 

“Me too,” she said. “Dad’s really happy you came with us. He’s been cranky lately.”

“Your dad’s gonna be just fine,” you said as she finished off her food. “So do you like having a nanny? I know that’s kinda new and funny, huh.”

“Yeah but I really like you being home. Dad gets flustered sometimes.”

“Flustered?” you asked with a little laugh.

“He works on a lot of stuff and he didn’t pick me up on time from school and stuff a few weeks ago. Too many chickens in a basket,” she said.

“Too many eggs in one basket,” you said.

“Isn’t an egg gonna be a chicken though?”

“I...never thought of it that way,” you said. You nearly jumped when you felt some hands on your shoulders but JJ was smiling as Arrow climbed up next to you.

“Ah. I see you ladies found the fried dough. Twins you want some?” asked Jensen.

“Yes please,” they said and he chuckled as he went off to buy some more.

“Look at her,” said Jensen twenty minutes later, pausing at a deep blue Impala, the twins both conked out in their stroller. 

“Isn’t that the same car you have?” you asked, lifting up the brim of your baseball cap to get a better look.

“Mine’s a 67. That’s a 63. I love that color though,” he said. “Blue’s my favorite but it looks good on that car.”

“I think it looks good in black,” you said, walking again when you saw JJ a few cars ahead of the two of you. “Where’d you get your car?”

“Work,” he said with a quick smile, hiding behind his sunglasses and hat. 

“Aren’t you an actor?” you asked.

“You have very obviously never seen an episode of my show,” he chuckled. “Which is totally cool by the way. I drove that car in the show for well over a decade. She’s one of my true loves.”

“Ah, gotcha,” you said. “So you’re a car guy.”

“Kinda. I don’t know everything but I enjoy them. What about you, you like-JJ! Stay closer,” he called out when she kept walking ahead. “So do you like cars?”

“I guess so. This is kinda neat, walking around and looking at the old ones. They had more style back then,” you said, walking past a pair of guys your age, one of them looking you up and down as you went by. “Did that guy-”

“Yup,” he said, glancing back over his shoulder, throwing his arm over yours for a few moments. “Looks like he got the message.”

“Jensen,” you laughed. “I wasn’t offended. It’s not like he was gonna come up and ask for my number.”

“I don’t like the look of him,” he said.

“Neither did I,” you chuckled, Jensen dropping his arm from around you. “You’re that guy friend girls have that will do shit like pretend to be a boyfriend and all that stuff, aren’t you.”

“At your service,” he said with a mini curtesy. You giggled and he straightened up, JJ rushing over.

“Dad can I get an ice cream?” she asked.

“How about some apple slices,” he said, reaching under the stroller and grabbing a cooler. He pulled out a little baggie and handed it to her, JJ shrugging and walking ahead of the stroller again. “Shit, that probably means I can’t get ice cream now too.”

“We can always get some on the way home for later,” you said. “I won’t tell on you.”

“I’m putting this on your performance review,” he said. You shot him a side glance and he smirked. “I’m joking. I don’t want to do that as much as you don’t.”

“Thank you for that,” you said, stopping and looking at a red challenger for a moment.

“You like that one?” he asked.

“It’s nice,” you said before you started walking again. You fixed your hat and caught back up with him, Jensen slowing down as JJ took her time ahead of you. “So I should probably know this but what show were you in where you were driving around a muscle car?”

“You really haven’t looked me up online yet?” he chuckled. You shrugged and he laughed to himself.

“I may have peeked at your IMDB page but that was it. Was it that show you were on a long time? Super something?”

“Supernatural,” he said, a big smile on his face. “Yeah, I drove it for that.”

“Oh yeah, that was the really scary show, wasn’t it,” you said. 

“You’re too sweet,” he said, chuckling to himself. “It’s not that scary. I promise. Give it a try sometime. You might like it.”

“I’m sure someday I will. If I’m brave enough.”

“I think you are,” he said, JJ running up ahead again before he called for her to hang back. He sighed and threw his head back. “It never ends, does it?”

“I’m sure someday when she’s older you won’t have to worry so much.”

“I’m gonna worry about that kid when she’s forty years old,” he said.

“That’s cause you’re a good dad,” you said. 

“You haven’t known me that long,” he said.

“Do you love her? Worry about her?” you asked and he nodded. “Well any dad that does that and tells his kid that someday they’ll get to see their mom again to help her grieve when he well and truly doesn’t know the answer to that...you get the picture Ackles?”

“I could be better,” he said.

“Everyone could be better. They don’t need the best dad ever. They just need the best dad for them and you seem like you’re doing a good job of that from what I’ve seen so far,” you said. “You’re gonna screw up but so does everyone. Try to just enjoy it and not be too hard on yourself.”

“You’ve spent a lot of time with kids haven’t you,” he said.

“I’ve been in the mom role more than once as a nanny,” you said. You kicked at the dirt and shrugged. “It’s how I know the difference Jensen. You don’t need me or want me to be their mother. You just need help sometimes. That’s an important difference. Asking for help, especially when you don’t want it but need it, that’s a good dad move.”

He was quiet as he walked, stopping at a yellow mustang. He stared for a moment and swallowed. 

“Thanks, Y/N. That means a lot. Really.”

“Come on dad,” you said, walking away and up towards where JJ was. “Let’s go see if we can find one this one’s gonna be asking for on her sixteenth birthday.”

“Those three are finally down and out for the count,” said Jensen as he walked downstairs to catch you in the kitchen wiping up the pan from dinner. “Thanks for eating with us tonight.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” you said, putting the pan away. He looked out the back window and bit his bottom lip. “Everything alright?”

“You’re not like, hanging out with us cause you think you have to right?�� he asked.

“Trust me. If I didn’t want to, I’d be down in my room,” you said. “Besides, I’ve thought about it and you know what, why don’t you set me up with that friend of yours.”

“Really?” he asked, a little alarmed.

“Why not? The age thing doesn’t bother me at all. Unless you think it’d be a problem for him?”

“No, he doesn’t really care about that sort of thing. I think he’d prefer it’s just someone he clicked with, had a connection, you know?” he said.

“Perfect. Why don’t you set us up for next Saturday night then?” you asked.

“I need you to watch the kids next Saturday night. I have-”

“The gala. Sorry, I forgot. Um, just, I’m free whenever. You know my schedule so you can set something up and just let me know?” you said. He smiled and nodded. As you were starting to leave he grunted. “Yeah?”

“I have some friends coming over for a drink in a bit. Small backyard fire. Whiskey and smores. You’re welcome to join.”

“Jensen. You’re not asking because you feel like you have to right?”

“No, not at all. I like hanging out with you. I’m sure whatever you’re binging on TV will be there if we bore you too much,” he said.

“Alright. I’ll be out in half an hour or so. Just wanted to freshen up from the show earlier,” you said. You ducked back to your room, taking a quick shower and changing into some leggings and a flannel. By the time you were out you could hear a slight mumbling and walked downstairs, catching Jensen with some guys on the patio pouring some drinks.

“Hey,” said Jensen when you stepped out of the slider door. “Guys this is Y/N.”

“Ah we get to meet the world’s best nanny,” said the tallest one. “I’m Jared.”

“Rich.”

“Rob.”

“Hi!” said a redhead that slipped out of the door behind you. “I’m Ruth.”

“Y/N. Your hair is kinda amazing by the way,” you said.

“This is what happens when you invite the girls,” said Rich.

“Normally we just talk about Jared’s hair,” chuckled Jensen. You grabbed a chair and helped gather up some snacks to bring over to his firepit, Ruth hanging back to help you.

“Jensen said you live here with him and the munchkins?”

“Yeah. He works so much it makes things easier on him. Are you an actress?” you asked.

“We all are. Only Jared lives close by. The rest of us haven’t been down here since…” she said and you nodded. “I really am happy you’re here. It’s nice to see a smile on our boys face again.”

“He’s a great boss. He’s very kind. We’re becoming friends,” you said. “He’s trying to set me up with his friend actually.”

“Oh which one?”

“Dunno. He just said he’s 42, an actor and is single. Age stuff doesn’t bother me.”

“Rob is a bit older than myself. It really doesn’t matter in the slightest, especially when you’re a little older,” she said. “Jensen says you’re great with the kids.”

“They’re pretty easy going. Normally the parents are the hard part of my job but he’s been great. He really loves his kids,” you said.

“Yes he certainly does,” she said.

By the end of the night you found yourself really enjoying Jensen’s friends. It was clear they cared for him at more than a surface level, especially Jared. You’d heard Jensen speak to him on the phone a few times and call him his brother but it really was apparent they had a special bond that went beyond a typical friendship.

“I’ll catch you guys for brunch before you head home,” said Jensen, waving night to them all as you helped pick up. You were just about finished and heading back for your room when Jensen caught you in the kitchen. “You have fun tonight?”

“Yeah. Your friends are great,” you said, a small pair of footsteps coming down the stairs. You both turned and saw Zeppelin there with tears in his eyes.

“What’s wrong, honey?” asked Jensen as he walked over and squatted down.

“I had a bad dream and I want mommy but she’s gone,” he whined. Jensen instantly scooped him up and held onto him tight, kissing his head. “I want mommy.”

“I want mommy too, baby,” said Jensen quietly. You mouthed go and he nodded, taking Zeppelin upstairs while you finished cleaning up. 

You got up early the next morning and made a big batch of chocolate chip pancakes, plenty leftover for breakfast the next morning. Jensen padded over from the hall where you knew the home gym was, sweaty and tired but a smile came onto his face when he saw you.

“What’s all this,” he asked, getting a bottle of water from the fridge.

“Chocolate chip pancakes make everything better,” you said. He put a few on a plate for himself and sat down at the counter as you made up some more, stealing a few for yourself.

“These are delicious,” he said. You stored away some for when the kids got up, making up your own plate before you dug in. “Sorry about last night. I feel like I ruined the fun.”

“Not at all. He’s a toddler. I literally can’t imagine being in your position. I’d have fallen apart instantly,” you said.

“No you wouldn’t. You care about those kids,” he said. “You push on for them.”

“I know it’s not really my place to say so but-”

“Y/N. I’d prefer if you just talk to me like a friend, really,” he said.

“You made it sound like you were ready to try dating again. Last night you seemed kind of...maybe not so ready.”

“I’m ready. I will always miss her. I’ll always love her. But that doesn’t mean I can’t love anyone else ever again like that too, you know? I don’t believe there is a limit on how much love a person can give,” he said.

“Your wife was a very lucky woman,” you said.

“I was lucky. She was patient with me,” he chuckled. “You guys would have gotten along really well.”

“Can I offer a bit of advice?” you asked.

“What’s that?”

“Keep telling your kids about her, all throughout their lives. They’ll still get to know her that way, you know?” you said. “Tell your future girlfriend too. That’s how you’ll know if they’re a good one for you.”

“Why do you say that?” he asked.

“You’re a kind soul. I would expect your partner would be as well,” you said.

“I hope so. Mine kinda has a permanent handle with care warning label on it,” he chuckled.

“I don’t think so. Just need somebody that understands, not try to fix you. There’s nothing wrong with you in the first place,” you said, taking a bite of your pancake.

“Thanks, kiddo,” he said.

“You’re not that much older, bucko,” you chuckled.

“Nah, I’m keeping kiddo,” he laughed. “You good to watch the kids for a few hours around eleven?”

“Sounds good. Go have a mimosa with your friends for me,” you said.

“Will do, Y/N. Will do.”

______

A/N: Read Part 3 here!

[angeli-marco-writes]

Tom Felton - Baby on the Brain

A/N - First request! I hope this is what you wanted, I really like this idea. I don’t know Tom, nor do I claim to, and the other characters are fictional figments. To celebrate 100 followers, I'm uploading this early. Thank you!

Warnings - overloads of fluff, mentions of baby sick, mild language, slight angst, hints to a breeding kink whoops, lightly implied smut.

Summary - Visiting Tom’s brother and his new baby should be a walk in the park, really, but some unwitting truths come to ahead that you can’t refute. You’ve always wanted a family, but does Tom? (Request for Tom Felton: you guys meet his brother's new baby and then decide to have your own.)

Tom’s bruised knuckles rap thrice against the oak wood of his brother's front door, squeezing your smaller, trembling hand in his, running his fingers over the band of the ring in pride of place. Taking a deep breath in sync with yours, he turns his twinkling blue eyes towards you, lending you a twitch of a reassuring smile.

“Why are you so nervous? It’s only my brother,” he says, his voice gruff following the cigarette he smoked in the car.

“It’s the baby I wanna see,” you breathe, “less nervous, more jittery.”

“Maybe you should’ve gone for tea this morning instead of a double shot coffee.”

You nudge his ribs with your elbow, and then his overly sensitive hip bone with yours, coaxing a gentle chuckle from his lips, “Maybe I wouldn’t have needed it if you hadn’t kept me up so late.”

The devilish, shit-eating grin creeping onto his lips tells you that he feels no remorse, but then again, you’d take tiredness and a night like that over anything. His fingers twine tighter around yours as footsteps begin to shuffle behind the door, followed by an ear-piercing, blood-curdling screech, absolutely unholy.

“See he’s having fun with the kid, then?” you begin to whisper, but your words trail off as Tom’s very exhausted looking brother appears in the doorway, feeding bottle in hand, burping rag over his shoulder, deep purple bags beneath his eyes.

“Alright mate?” Tom greets, stepping one loafer-clad foot over the threshold, offering his brother a man hug.

“Tired, yeah. How you doing, man?” he responds warmly, patting Tom’s back.

“I’m good, I’m good, Jon.” Tom says, though you can feel him almost imperceptibly tense beside you.

Turning ever so slightly, all eyes are cast on you. Naturally, you offer Tom’s brother your warmest smile, teeth and all, sympathy welling both in your eyes and your heart. Kids must be tough if he looks like this with a three-week old.

“And who’s this?” Jonathan asks, sweetly, inquisitive more than anything, though he does look at you a bit peculiarly, scrutinising you, perhaps your outfit, the mom jeans you paired with a cropped cardigan perhaps not his style.

“This is my fiancée, Y/N.” Tom says, his words holding an inflection or pride perhaps, but whatever it is, it sends a pang of excitement shooting down your spine, a smirk creeping its way onto your lips, one you have to bite back, “I’m sorry I haven’t bought her over before, but you know what it’s like.”

“Yeah, course. Nice to meet you.”

“And you! Where’s the baby?”

Tom chuckles softly, and he curls his arm around your body, hip to hip. “She loves kids.”

Jonathan stands aside, a welcoming hand to beckon you into his home, the laminate floors covered in baby commodities, pastel blankets strewn everywhere, but other than, surprisingly clean considering Tom mentioned his brother was a hoarder and was always the most untidy of the bunch all throughout their youth. Considering how bad Tom is and how often you’re stuck cleaning away his dirty dishes and putting his laundry on, you were expecting far worse, but maybe Tom was the worst of them all along.

He tickles between your ribs as you wander through the halls, greeted in the back room by a tiny blonde headed baby, cradled in two arms of a just as exhausted looking lady donning a kind smile, stars dancing in her eyes as she stares down at her temporarily placated child. Tufts of blonde hair pair with enamoured hazel eyes to compliment the soft yellow of their clothes and the rosiness of their chubby cheeks. The hair, the nose, the tiny dimples; this baby looks just like Tom - and all his brothers - did when they were little dots themselves. The same little treasures. You, however, were an unattractive baby compared to this ball of sunshine.

“This is Ainsley.” Tom’s sister in law says lazily, her words falling off as she gapes in adoration at the gurgling blob of joy in her embrace. “And I’m Zara.”

“I’m Y/N.” you smile widely.

Should he not know better, Tom would quite possibly think you’re going to either collapse of hyperventilate, judging by the flush of your cheeks, your elevated pulse, heart beating out of your chest, the tiny, delightful, desperate whimpering noises from the back of your throat, elicited from a single glance into the babies eyes.

Said baby begins to make some indistinguishable noises and flails its arms around faintly, feebly, in your general direction. You’d be lying if your heart didn’t do a somersault in your chest.

“M- may I hold Ainsley?” you stammer out, extending your covered arms in a similar cradle to that of Ainsley’s mother.

“God, you’d be doing me a right favour,” she retorts, her accent broad, Geordie.

She shuffles softly down the pale green sofa, so perfectly complimenting the oak floors, to make a room for you that you take gratefully, and position yourself astutely against the back of the sofa. Before retrieving the baby, though, Tom grasps for a muslin cloth and affectionately drapes it over you, affectionate in the manner that he does it with such care, grazing his thumbs over your collarbones as he goes, ever so gently, barely even a touch, but enough to let you know he’s there. He holds your gaze for a moment, his lips twitching into a smile. This alone sends butterflies to your stomach and sets a sheen of fog about your head, taking you even more by surprise when the baby is laid in your arms, writhing and smiling and blinking so sweetly.

“Hiya darling,” you coo, “aren’t you just the most precious thing.”

“Gender neutral name and clothing...” Tom interjects, sidling up on the arm of the sofa beside you, “may I ask their sex and the pronouns you’re using?”

“Male, but we’re trying to be as gender neutral as possible so they can grow up not feeling pressured.”

You can’t wipe the beam from your face, or prevent the small ‘awwh!’ from escaping under your breath, curling the cloth slightly around the child, “That’s a wonderful attitude. Tommy, would you fetch my bag from the car, please?”

In a second, he’s bouncing up, his hand thrust deep in his chinos to fish for the car key. “You asked me to grab it before we got out as well, sorry sweetheart. Back in a minute.” With a nod to his brother, he’s racing out the door, his footsteps thundering through the house. Your attention, however, remains glued to the baby.

“Would you like me to set them down for tummy time afterwards, or is he going back to sleep?” You ponder aloud, eyes glued to the wry tufts of hair so soft and silky between your fingers.

“If he falls asleep in your arms, that’s fab. We’re just livin’ minute by minute.”

You release a small laugh, “Fair enough.”

Jon sits beside you tentatively, between yourself and his wife, his arm wrapping around her as she leans her body weight against him, her hair--held in a bun before, now just kind of flopping into her eyeline--tickling her shoulder and causing him to wince a little.

“How do you know so much about babies?”

The sigh you don’t mean to release is wistful at best, plain pining at worst--and probably most obvious. “I’ve always wanted them, kids, but Tommy’s the first guy I’ve settled down with, but despite being engaged, we’re still taking things slowly.”-- You shrug, as best as you can with the baby in hold, and cock your head to the side to peer down better at every tiny freckle on Ainsley’s skin.--“I love him to bits, but he wants to wait, and I’m still young, a good chunk younger than he is.”

“If it helps,” he starts, “I’ve never seen Tom as in love with someone as he is you. He’s besotted. You say the word, he’ll do it.”

“I know. I just don’t want to make him do anything unless he’s 100% sure.”

“And that’s what makes you his perfect girl.”

Your heart swells. There’s a beat, a pause of silence, filled only with the zapping of the car outside, no more than a couple of seconds before Jon’s wife speaks again.

“Enough of that. Show us the ring!”

If they’re all this excitable at something as simple as your engagement ring, perhaps you’ll fit in with his family better than you anticipated. ** Certainly, if their amiable gasps are anything to go by as you display your hand to them, your ring finger held out, supporting Ainsley’s head in the crook of your elbow as they gawk at the diamond glistening in the sunlight streaming in from their floor-to-ceiling patio doors. You have to admit it’s a pretty damn beautiful ring, the one you always dreamed of. An oval cut 0.5ct diamond held in place by a delicate split-shank 18ct gold band. It glows ethereally in whatever light there is, but most spectacularly in Tom’s eyes.

“It’s the most gorgeous ring,” she gushes, “apart from mine.”

A smile creeps its way in. You’re not entirely sure what the hell you’ve done right in your life to deserve this incredible, expensive ring, or even Tom for that reason. This is the life you’ve always dreamed of, the one that Tom’s brother has, and if you’re even half as happy as they are after being married for 5 years then you’ll consider your life to be a great success. You always wanted the quiet family life in the suburbs, with a lovely house and a nice garden and a couple of kids, working a part time job that pays well and allows you time for your children and your husband… then you fell in love with him. Loving Tom, though, that’s the true gift in your life, and you’d take him over that life any day. He’s the best, truly.

Speak of the devil and he shall arrive, since Tom comes puffing into the room, his heavy footsteps coming to a halt in the doorway as he hands over your abnormally large handbag.

“Here,” he gasps, but turns his gaze upon your hand, witnessing their marvelling at the rock he put there, “it is a pretty boss ring, isn’t it? Worth every penny.”

He bends down to ghost a kiss over your lips, his slightly long dark-blonde hair tickling your cheeks, smiling warmly down at you before deciding to sidle up next to you in the small gap between you and the arm of the sofa. However, half way down, his hip bones are digging in, and he winces up like he’s just been shocked. You know how sensitive his hip bones are, a fat you use against him incredibly often for all the best reasons, but today, he’s been so good, and you shan’t make him sit uncomfortably.

Keeping your hold on Ainsley--who’s almost asleep already, quieter than he was before with only faint gurgles escaping, their eyes droopy--steady, you begin to stand, and shuffle yourself up a bit, allowing Tom to take your previous seat, before placing yourself back down with as little ‘umph’ as you can manage, hooking your thigh over tom’s in the process. He knows what to do, it’s always been your calling card at home or at a party: as soon as you sling your leg over his, he pulls you into his lap eerie time, and today is no different. Well, perhaps it is, as he furrows his dark eyebrows inquisitively, gazing adoringly at you and the child in your arms, waiting for your nod okay before he hitches his arms around your waist and tugs you, as gently as he possibly can with his delicate grip, into his lap, giving you both ample space.

“Babe,” you whisper, “can you fetch the gift out of my bag?”

He’s instantly ferreting around until he finds the presents you neatly wrapped in polka dot paper, and hands them to Jonathan. Eagerly, they're unwrapped, and it seems that your many arguments over what to get Tom’s niece or nephew were worth it, considering the fact their eyes begin to brim with tears.

A soft grey elephant plush, holding a yellow heart, embellished with ‘Ainsley Felton, love Uncle Tom’, and a Peter Rabbit china crockery set for when they’re older.

“Thank you,” Zara exclaims, the way only a mother can, in gracious relief, “they’re adorable, so perfect.”

And before you know it, both you and Tom are being embraced wholeheartedly, as though you’re already their family. It’s been a life since anyone besides Tom hugged you, but this, this is nice.

“Well, lunch?”

Said lunch is a tumultuous affair, with a delivery pizza being ordered from the local dominoes, but with Ainsley so comfortable and calm in your arms, it was an elected decision not to move him, and instead, Tom fed you your pizza. It isn’t the first time, his love language seems to be feeding you things, but normally it's strawberries or chocolate truffles. Never before have you covered an entire medium pizza being fed to you while trying to avoid dropping any toppings or tomato sauce onto a peaceful baby, but that is just an indicator for the rest of the afternoon, Tom’s hands or eyes never once leaving you.

Completely accidentally, Jonathan and his wife drift off to sleep. You smile sadly at the sight, unable to blame them, they must be knackered, the problem simply lies in the fact that Ainsley begins to stir just as they drift off.

“See if there’s any milk in the fridge, please, I think they’re using formula.” you hiss to Tom, standing up cautiously.

Aghast, he grapples for words, “I-I’m sorry, what?!”

“Forget it,” you sigh, “take the baby and change him, please.”

“Change him?!” Again, that same tone of staggered surprise. “I don’t know how!”

“You have four nieces and nephews already, yes you do. He’s going to start screaming in a minute and wake your very tired, very groggy brother. Change the baby.”

When your eyes begin to thin, nostrils flaring, eyebrows raising, he knows not to mess with you, so he swallows thickly, his throat bobbing up and down, and scoops a crying Ainsley from your arms. As he treads upstairs, you find your way back into the kitchen, and find on the counter the bottles done with their sterilisation. This is okay, this is great, you know how to do this, and years of babysitting taught you exactly how to do this. It’s almost like that scene from Outnumbered, assembling the bottle with your eyes closed, muscle memory taking over from your brain. When your eyes flutter open, you almost let out a little squeal at your achievement. If only you could learn this all over again, have this life with a little child of your own, with Tom being as good a dad as he’s acting right now. When you handed him the baby, though, you couldn’t help but notice the fear that flashed over his face, paling him a shade, his pupils dilating to erase the blue. You wish he wasn’t so scared…

A few minutes later, with the kettle boiled and the formula made, you appear in the front room where Tom is swaddling Ainsley, holding the bean against his beating heart, making only the very slightest movements to entertain them.

“Give him a bit of tummy time while the milk cools, do you want to feed him?” you offer, stepping over the threshold .

“N-no,” he exhales slowly, “I think you’d best do that. Can I just put them down?”

“I’ll grab the mat from the corner”--you spied it as you walked in, a colourful crinkle mat rolled up and tucked away from view against the cream walls, behind the flat-screen on its grand stand--“and then yeah.”

Even as he puts Ainsley down, stomach first, onto the playmat, he looks petrified. Taking a seat on the floor to watch over them, you tug on Tom’s tan trouser leg. Indecisiveness gnaws at him, tugging him away from you, but he concedes to your widened puppy eyes, and tumbles onto the shag pile rug next to you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders like its second nature.

“You okay?” you whisper.

“Yeah, course. You?”

“Yeah.”

You let your head fall to his arm, a blissful smile creeping its way onto your lips when Ainsley looks you dead in the eye, hazel orbs twinkling, full of hope.

“I love you.”

“I know,” he hums, “I love you too.”

“Then why are you being so… prickly with me today?”

He shifts away from you the most miniscule amount, “I’m not.”

“We’ve been together for years, Tom. I know when you’re bloody lying.” you lower your voice for the final words, “now tell me why you’re being such a pouty puss.”

You mimic his frown, knowing full well that he hates it when you do so. He hates seeing you sad, even if it's just pretend, so makes a swooping move to kiss the frown away.

“Would you leave me if I said I didn’t want kids?” his voice breaks on the final word, little more than a whisper, but his next move is so animated that it almost startles you with the bottle in hand. “I mean, you know I want them. I love kids, I want us to have a family, but…”

“Nothing would ever make me leave you, Tom. You couldn’t do anything that’d cause me to fall out of love with you.”

The pain in your statement sends a shock through you, singing your heart, poisoning your mind, sending a sour bile running up your throat. No matter how many daggers shoot at your heart, it remains to be true. You’d do anything for him. If, tomorrow, he turned around and said he wanted the two of you to stay together but never marry and never have children, you wouldn’t back down without a fight, but you’d accept it. Despite all your lifelong hopes, nothing trumps Tom.

“I’m gonna feed Ainsley now.”

Picking the baby up from the rug, you put a bib around his neck, and throw another cloth around you, taking a seat in the corner chair to feed him.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” he says, and walks out, shoulders slumped.

You watch him wistfully as he leaves the room, and even when he returns--refusing to look at you--your gaze is still trained on his every move, slumping into the shag pile rug to watch the TV on a low volume. You can feel his eyes on you, that burning pair of eyes that follow you everywhere, your every movement, his ears honed, trained to your every shift and whisper. The second you turn upon him though, he’s looking away.

“I’ll put Ainsley down now,” you announce after burping him, “we need to leave soon if we want to make it home before dark.”

He doesn’t even bat an eye as you sashay past him, Ainsley’s cries muffled by a dummy, but the second he hears your footsteps heading back downstairs, his own begin to thunder, pounding against the stairs to meet you halfway.

“Wait,” he whispers, “come on, sit down, talk to me. I love you.”

A sigh heaves your chest, “I love you too. Talk about what?”

“You’re being arsey with me.”

“Because you said you don’t want kids!”

“Well I didn’t mean it, I’m just”--he pinches the bridge of his nose, and ushers you up on the stairs, your calves hitting the carpet--“there’s a lot to think about. We just met the kid, and I saw how your face lit up when you held him.”

“You know I want kids, Tom.”

“I know, but can we not talk about kids for a second? I want to talk about you. You’re my fiancée, I want to make you my wife. I’m just scared.”

“What of? You have nothing to be scared of. I’ll be here no matter what.”

“That’s why I’m scared!” he exasperates, flailing his arms about, “I don’t want you to senselessly follow me and love me if I can’t give you what you want. I’m scared of fucking this up, fucking you up. I’m scared of this going wrong, with children or marriage or saying something wrong, because I can’t lose you.”

“Tom,” you murmur.

Your hand flies up to cup his jaw, grazing your thumb over the stubble growing there, the faintest shadow.

“I love you. I- I need you. Y/N, sweetheart, please. I just wanna stay how we are, just stay this way for a bit, slow down because the world is moving too fast, and I’m gonna fall, but I can’t drag you down with me.” he croaks, cradling your neck with trembling, callused hands. “Can we stay how we are? Just us? Just you and me?”

“Babe you aren’t gonna lose me. Everything else off the table, we’ve got this, we’ve got us. We can stop the world and get off if that's what you want. Nothing is immediate, everything can wait.” you promise, your eyes boring into his.

All at once, his lips come crashing down onto yours, swallowing any inhibitions with his lavishing tongue, his hot breath slanting and fanning over your lips, leaving innocent adoration in their wake. Until a piercing scream resounds.

“Except maybe that.”

You duck from his grip skilfully, and slip into Ainsley’s room, two fingers reaching out to tickle their stomach, causing the scream to hiccup in their throat momentarily. Then, as if wondering what to do next, he just stares up at you imploringly, questioningly.

“Come on Ainsley, I just set you down to sleep. Be good and let mummy and daddy sleep too, okay?” you coo, tucking his blanket back up to his neck, slipping his cuddly toy closer, “go back to sleep.”

This child is already one with an attitude, you can tell that by the vehemence with which he yells out. You don’t even have to think twice before you’re stooping into the cot, swathing him in blankets, and lifting him to your bosom, where his screams fall to mere gurgles.

“Do you think he’s sleeping in the bed with them?” you ask Tom, keeping your voice at a steady whisper even with the slight bounces you’re offering the baby, “because I think that causes parental problems above all else because they’re being kicked in the back all night. Still, decreases the risk of SIDS. Why do they have a cot up if they are? He can’t sleep without contact…”

You don’t even realise you’re thinking aloud until Tom presses his thumbs into your shoulders, buckling your whole body. It’s the instant tension reliever, truly, and your shoulders do seem tighter today, perhaps from all the baby wrangling.

“Lets just sit, shall we?”

You do, taking up refuge in the front room once again, with an extra blanket of his, as well as a supply of cuddly toys, rattles, and dummies. Tom watches you with fascination for the rest of the afternoon, everything you do drawing his full attention; enticing, entrapping. His heart swells at the sight of you bouncing Ainsley around to make him laugh, cooing and giggling with him to coax a smile back after a wail that you hushed down, holding him so closely as he sleeps. He’s finally seeing it, after all these years, you, in your true home habitat, caring for a child, so kindly, so motherly, so naturally. Everything you do instantly seems to set the infant at ease. He knows it should be him, Ainsley is his nephew, but… you’re just better.

In fact, before he even realises it, he’s craving what he doesn’t have. Not that he can’t have it -- you’ve been together for a long time, you’ve discussed a future with children more times than he can count, and of course he wants it. Tom, he’s always wanted to be a dad, to read his kids books and sing them lullabies and show them what daddy did for work… but it's always been a pipe dream. Your wishes of a family have never come to fruition, and all because of his selfish fears.

The world can’t stop turning just because he’s getting cold feet and wants to climb off for a minute to catch his breath. That’s not how life works. If you want something, you’ve gotta grab it by the balls, because the opportunity will be gone before you know it. And with Tom? He won’t lose you because he won’t take a chance to make you happy and give you what you want. If anything, seeing the crestfallen look that settles between your brows when you actually have to give Ainsley back to their parents just further instils and confirms the idea in his head. There’s his future, in his mind's eye, as clear as day. This is what he needs to do, but better still, this is what he wants.

The drive back to your home is spent in relative silence, and a pensive one at that. You know like instinct that Tom is replaying your final conversation with Jonathan and his wife the same way you are. After all, the simple words did put a dampener on your reconciliation. Your hand is on the gearstick the whole way, though, your fingers entwined with his, the simple contact enough for you. You were right at lunch: all day it's been his hands or his eyes on you: you like it when it's both simultaneously, the way it was when you said your goodbyes.

Tom’s hands settled on your hips, his chin atop your head, and you just fell into his enveloping warmth, smiling lazily at the couple you rescued for the afternoon.

“Thanks so much, we owe you one.” Jonathan said, giving Tom another one of those manly hugs as you stand in the dusk-darkened wooden porch.

“Really,” Zara chimed in, her feet shuffling on the tiled floor as she held her husband's hand, “you’re welcome to have him any time. That is, of course, if you don’t have a little one of your own by the time you’ve recovered from that blighter.”

You forced a dry chuckle at her words, an awkward sound, but you seemed to recover well enough, “Well Ainsley’s been a pleasure, and I’m glad we could give you some respite. Take care.”

“And you. Drive safe.”

“We will,” Tom said, offering them a smile, flashing his keys, keeping his grip on you resolute, “thanks for having us.”

Their words still loom over you like a dark cloud. It was a throwaway comment, one they’d have thought nothing of, and most people, and even you on a good day, but you’d had that… spat earlier on that changed everything. Dredging it up would just put an even further dampener on your mood, though, and with a drive home in the semi-darkness already hanging over you like a massive impending storm cloud of fear, that’s definitely not ideal.

“Nice baby, Ainsley,” Tom mentions, turning his indicator on to pull off the dual carriageway.

“Yeah, and he’s cute.”

“Nice eyes.”

And a couple more comments like those are the only conversation you share as the journey goes by, but soon enough, you’re on the home stretch, and your street rolls into view. With your head comfortably rolled back against the headrest, your eyes shut from a tiring day of exertion and childminding , you don’t notice Tom stepping out the car and unravelling his grip from you. Only does it become apparent when he opens your door and unclips your seat belt, kissing your lips tenderly, the chapped skin arising you from whatever zoned out, thoughtful state you were in before.

“Come on, let's get you inside sweetheart.” he murmurs, taking your hands in his as he helps you out the car, His chivalry never fails to astound you--he even carries your bag.

“Thanks darlin’.”

You follow him inside, kicking off your shoes routinely, shrugging off your coat to hang on the peg with your name etched above it. What happens next, though, is what shocks you the most: this isn’t part of your normal ‘returning home’ routine, not if you’ve had a day as tiring as this one. You’re neither complaining nor disappointed, though. How can you be when Tom’s lips latch onto your pulse point and he has you writhing in seconds, only his arm around the small of your back there to support you.

In one fell swoop, he has you spun around and pinned to the wall, his figure with lust-blown eyes hovering above you, every line in his face so loving, even the subtle part of his lips. They only do that when he’s so desperate to kiss you he can barely breathe, when he’s so eager to confess his love again and again that all other words are inconsequential. This is your Tom.

“Let’s try for a baby.” he says, completely resolutely, no trace of hesitation anywhere in his perfectly, delectably gruff tone. “I want one, I want us, and I don’t wanna wait to build a family with you.”

You can feel tears begin to form in the corners of your shock-widened eyes. This… this is- What changed his mind? Just hours ago, he was hell bent against the idea, but now? His cheeks are glowing at the mere prospect. Courtesy and patience be damned, that is if you can get the words out with how choked up you are…

“Really? Y-you mean it?”

His faint smile widens into a full blown grin, one that confirms everything for you. This is it, this is the Tom you agreed to marry, the happy Tom, the smiley Tom, the one who can barely contain his excitement even as he nods, a stray lock of dark blonde hair falling into his eyes as he does so.

Reasonably, you can’t be expected to hold back, and when his hair gets long enough that it falls into his eyeline? That’s your main weakness, so who can blame you when you catapult yourself up onto him, your legs joining around his wait, your arms settling around his neck. He holds you right back, catches you like he was already waiting, and pins you against the wall again. Perhaps the serotonin is too much as you both grin into a searing kiss, the every press of his lips against yours holding more passion than you can fathom a cohesive thought about. He’s… incredible.

And besides, with this enthusiasm, his kiss alone leaving you gasping and clutching onto his hair for some kind of grounding, perhaps it’ll be the first time lucky…