Characters: reader, Steve, Sam, Natasha (mentioned), Maria Hill
Summary: Falling for a good man, who happened to be her training partner, was unavoidable. What if you can’t stay away, even after heartbreak? Is it possible to be friends with some one you’ve fallen for? Life rarely unfolds the way we hope it would. (Events take place after CATWS)
Warnings: lil fluff, lotta angst. Heartbreak. I’m sorry.
A/N: This one hurt. Once again, I drew from my own personal experiences, so it took a lot out of me to write. I hope you enjoy it? I’m considering an epilogue, so let me know if that is of interest! Please let me know your thoughts! Special thanks to @buckyywiththegoodhair for helping edit. Bless you!
The next morning after a maximum of 3 hours sleep, you dabbed on some concealer to hide bags under your eyes and got dressed. Hopefully you could blame your ‘illness’ on not looking your best. Once you arrived, it seemed you didn’t have to worry. Apparently Nat was a little too good at telling the story that you’d been sick. When you walked into work, everyone was shocked that you were “up and around” so soon. It was like you had the plague or something.
Assuring everyone you were fine, the office was back to business as usual. However, partway through your first day back, a mission report update arrived from Steve. Upon seeing the email, your breath quickened with a twist of your still-tender heart. You sought refuge in the bathroom until the pain in your chest subsided and tears dried.
The rest of your week passed without incident, the only unusual being your lack of visiting the gym. Even without Steve there, too many memories lingered. You kept yourself distracted by catching up on work and spending time with the other Avengers. That weekend, you actually made an effort to go out with friends and socialize. The pain in your chest still lingered, but less sharply than before.
“A YOUNG LADY WANTS A HUSBAND; SHE IS tired of home control and stupidity. He must be rich, good looking and keep horses: and must never be cross. She is pretty enough and fond of all kinds of fun. Address Hope Spencer, Madison square Post office.”
This was either a good time to open her office or a very, very shitty one. And, with that selfish musing, Mia winced and flipped the sign on her door that marked it open, rubbing her forehead as she wondered what exactly she could do to help. Summerdale hadn’t been much more than a known location to her, but there were people who mattered to others.
A sticky note was scribbled on, reminding herself to dock pay for the related cases, if there were to be any. But she closed her eyes, focused and felt the warmth, the familiarity as she prayed to the goddesses, hopeful for those who feared having lost someone; she did, though, feel slightly foolish to do so while leaning on a broom.
This is all he’ll ever know of Gemma’s life before she came to Andromeda: the contents of a footlocker and the memories she and her brother share.
Jaal’s been building bridges since the Initiative arrived in Andromeda, but this one may be the most vital.
(Jaal and Scott friendship, background Jaal/Gemma; spoilers for Elaaden and the Family Secrets questline.)
Jaal is ten steps ahead before he realizes that Gemma has stopped walking.
“— then Sahuna said ‘That’s not actually edible,’ and Lathoul — Gemma?” He finds her staring up at Operations, wearing an expression far more suited to facing down three fiends at once than walking through the Nexus. “Is everything all right?”
“Yeah,” she says, though every inch of her body clearly says nothing is all right, and nothing will be all right ever again. “Just…not looking forward to Tann’s reaction to the whole Remnant drive core thing.”
Jaal squeezes her shoulders, and tries to offer a reassuring smile. He knows, too well, the particular kind of exhaustion Gemma carries out of these meetings — he’d carry some if he could, but Tann would eject him from the office the moment he walked in.
Politely, of course, because Tann is a politician above all else and the weight of his family name has reached the Nexus — but still ejected.
Charles was… very confused, the first time. Because he’d been drunk and angry that Erik still wasn’t listening and hadn’t believed him when Erik suddenly stopped his argument that Shaw must die to fall to one knee, grab his hand, and demand, “Will you marry me?”
“Will you marry me, Charles?”
And Erik had looked fierce and determined as he said, “Not forever.”
Logan was asleep and Hank was busy flying the plane when Erik asked quietly, “Charles, will you marry me?”
Charles punched him again.
It was the first day after the school had been rebuilt. Erik and Jean were supposed to be resting. Jean was doing so, at least. But Charles wasn’t the least bit surprised when Erik entered the space that would be Charles’ office soon, and squared his shoulders and said, “I need to ask you something.”
Charles frowned slightly. “You should be resting,” he replied.
“This is more important.” Erik walked heavily over, and eased himself down on one knee. “Charles… I know that… that we have differences. That you don’t trust me. And I know it’s too soon. But… for the sake of the history between us…” Carefully, he took Charles’ left hand in both of his. “Will… will you marry me?”
Charles stared at him. Thought about it, really, truly thought about it. And he whispered, “Yes.”
for being a massive, secretive, high-tech organisation, you figured MI6 could
afford bigger offices. You’d assumed wrong.
in and scanned your card, coffee in your other hand. People bustled about,
talking into earpieces and carrying around documents, trying not to bump into
each other in their rush. You sleepily made your way to the operator’s block,
full of the tiny square offices the higher ups deemed big enough for you. In
their defence, you and your computer did
fit in there, albeit a very tight squeeze. Still, a bit more leg room and a
window would be nice.
“One of these days, you’re going to have to show me what you
look like in your uniform,” Chanyeol stated with a longing sigh as he parked up
outside the police station. “I might just develop a kink,” he added, wiggling
his eyebrows suggestively.
You rolled your eyes, unbuckling your seatbelt and turning
to face him. “You’ve already seen me in my uniform,” you replied, referring to
the fact it was at work when you bonded.
Chanyeol was immediately shaking his head. “That doesn’t
count! I was extremely intoxicated,” he exclaimed, leaning back into his seat.
“I couldn’t even remember my name that night.” His lips quickly puckered into a
pout as he tried to pull the puppy dog expression on you.
“Maybe you should try getting arrested again,” you teased,
leaning over the gearstick to kiss his ready lips. Your fingers cupped his face
to deepen the kiss, trying to get as much of his touch as possible before you
had to leave.