“God damn it!” Bobbi hisses as the ‘assemble’ ringtone goes off.
“Third time, really? Y’know, maybe it’s a sign,” her date says as he pushes off her couch, “that we’re not meant to be anything more.” She stares up at him with a cold smile before getting to her feet and heading toward the door, throwing it open as soon as she can.
“Fine. We’re done. Happy?” He scoffs as he picks his jacket up off the back of her couch and walks out of her apartment. He turns around to say one last thing but she slams the door in his face before he can even open his mouth. “Douchebag,” she mutters, then sighs as she heads toward her closet.
It doesn’t take long for her to slip into her suit and double check her pockets and staves. She heads out the door in a matter of minutes, stealing the cab from her ex-fling with a smug wave.
“Drive,” she orders and the driver turns his head.
ship: lance hunter/bobbi morse; huntingbird
chapter 10/10
rating: (only ch8 is E, the rest is T probably idk)
notes: this took so long holy shit i am so so sorry
Lab work is one thing that keeps her calm. It’s something easy and familiar that Bobbi can lose herself in. She’s thankful that the work she’s doing isn’t hazardous, so Lance can sit in her chair as she records data from her tests.
Bobbi balls the sleeves of her sweatshirt up in her hands as she walks into the kitchen. May’s already sitting at the counter, tumbler in hand, and Bobbi can't hide her quiet noise of surprise.
“Didn't think I'd have to fight anyone over the kitchen,” May quips and Bobbi waves a hand noncommittally.
“I’ll be gone in a sec, just need booze,” she mutters, heading toward the fridge.
“It's eight in the morning.” Bobbi pulls out a beer from Lance’s shelf and snorts.
“This coming from the woman who’s drinking scotch at eight in the morning,” she retorts and May’s lip curve into a smile.
“Fair enough.” Bobbi pops the cap off her beer and hesitates before taking a seat at the counter with May.
“What's got you drinking so early?” she asks softly, then shakes her head. “Sorry, that's-.”
“Mother's Day,” May answers in a clipped tone, and Bobbi can't school her expression in time.
“Didn't think anyone else was keeping track.” May dips her chin in a nod and tilts her glass toward Bobbi before downing the last of it. “Thought it'd get easier,” Bobbi mutters, thumb circling the lip of the bottle. “But-.”
“It doesn't,” May manages, staring wistfully at the alcohol cupboard. She eyes it for a while as Bobbi drinks her own bottle.
“Have you heard from the team?” Bobbi asks around the lump in her throat. “They were supposed to be back today.”
“Got a text from Coulson. They're still trying to find a way in. Might be a few days,” May replies, finally turning away from the cupboard. Bobbi doesn't even try to hide the way her shoulders drop and she lets out a long sigh, shoving one hand into the pocket of her sweatshirt. Her fingers brush against worn fabric and it eases the ache in her chest.
“Great.” She finishes half her bottle in one drink and May gives her a sympathetic smile.
“C’mon. I know where we can get something a little stronger.” Bobbi follows May out of the kitchen, eyebrows furrowing when she leads them down to Coulson’s office.
“May?”
“Hm?” May pushes the door open and immediately heads for the liquor cabinet next to his desk. Bobbi looks around warily before taking a few steps inside, trying to get a closer look at what May’s grabbing. “Shut the door,” May says as she sets a decanter and two glasses on the desk. Bobbi hesitates for only a second before pulling the door shut, leaning up against it, as if she’s scared of offsetting anything in the room by simply standing in it.
As she pours herself a glass of whiskey, seated at Coulson’s desk, May raises an eyebrow.
“You can sit, Bobbi. The chair doesn’t bite.” Slowly, Bobbi crosses the room and takes a seat, slumping back a few seconds later. May passes her a glass and she holds it gingerly, fingers tracing over the ridges and bevelled edges. Bobbi finally takes a sip and feels her face screw up very briefly.
“Well, you weren’t wrong,” she comments, and May smiles as she lifts her own glass.
“He keeps it well stocked for several reasons,” May explains, “especially around this time of year.” Bobbi mulls over her words as the whiskey warms her from the inside out, making her stomach finally settle for the first time since the team had left. Her hand drifts to her pocket once more and she can’t help but smile when she’s met with the same worn fabric once again.
“Alright, what’s in your pocket?”
Bobbi looks up in surprise, completely unaware. She glances down at her pocket, cheeks burning, and she pulls out a tiny plush bird, the wings worn down from countless days of worried rubbing.
“Hunter got it for me,” she says softly, holding it out toward May. Her heart races as May cradles it gently, still unable to move past the anxiety of someone else holding her baby bird. “He was so excited when I told him that we were gonna have a baby. So excited that he ran out almost immediately, and came back an hour later with this little guy.”
Smiling warmly, May hands it back and Bobbi sighs in relief, holding it close to her stomach.
“Scared me half to death,” she mutters with a sly smile, stroking her thumb over the bird’s head. “Thought he was running out on me.”
“That’s sweet,” May replies into her glass. She refills her glass and swirls it around, watching as the light catches in the dips and waves of the whiskey.
“And when we lost it,” Bobbi forces out, ignoring the way the words catch in her throat, the room falling into an awkward silence, “it changed us. Tore us apart.”
“It happens.” She finds May staring at the bottom of her glass before knocking it back once more, wincing so slightly that Bobbi would’ve missed it had she not been looking so closely. “After Bahrain, a few months later, a test came back positive. I was staying in SHIELD’s bunks, too afraid to face home.” She traces the rim of her glass absentmindedly and shrugs her shoulders.
“Before I could tell Andrew or even go back, a folder of divorce papers was shoved in my hands.”
“How far along?” Bobbi asks before she can stop herself, and she clamps her lips shut. “Shit, I’m sor-.”
“Fifteen weeks. Couldn’t find a heartbeat,” she answers, her tone once again clipped, and Bobbi slumps down in her seat even more. “You?”
“Nine. Cramps woke me up and then I noticed all the blood.”
“I hate Mother’s Day,” May mumbles into her glass, finishing off yet another with Bobbi. “Another?”
“Please.”
a/n: sorry about the absence and how long these took. work’s been hell - 60 hours/wk usually. i’m still here. leave me more prompts maybe?
thank you to everyone who reads these, you’re the reason i love writing <3
“Don’t die out there,” he whispers, pressing another gentle kiss to her lips as he slips the keychain into her palm. Bobbi forces a smile as she grips it tightly, hefts her bag onto her shoulder, and walks out the door for what would be the last time.
Can I get a sweet fic of Huntingbird and Bobbi's niece and nephew that they are babysitting for a weekend?
noticed after that this says “niece and nephew.” oops. there are a few more with both coming though, promise.
“Ben, for the last time,” Bobbi says into the phone as she rolls her eyes, “she’ll be fine. Hunter’s warming up her bottle right now, right on schedule. I know it’s your first time away, and I promise she is in good hands.” Her brother sighs and she can hear her sister-in-law trying to pull him away. “Go enjoy your anniversary! If you call in the next five hours, I won’t answer.”
“Fine, fine. Just, tell Lily we love her.” She looks down at the baby strapped to her chest and cups her hand around the back of her head tenderly.
“Do you hear that, Lil? Mommy and Daddy love you very much,” she murmurs quietly and she hears laughter on the other end. “Now go, have fun, get drunk.”
“And you better not do any of tha-.”
“Bye Ben,” she laughs, hanging up before he can respond. She drops her phone off to the side and smiles down at her niece. “Huh, Lil, what do you think? Should we see if Uncle Hunter has your bottle ready yet?” Lily slaps Bobbi’s chin lightly and coos, and Bobbi laughs as she gets to her feet, holding Lily close to her chest.
“Uncle Hunter was just about to join you,” Lance calls from the kitchen just as Bobbi walks in. “Bottle’s nearly done.”
“Hear that, Lil?” Lily shrieks and kicks her feet, making Lance laugh as he looks over his shoulder. “Do you want Uncle Hunter to feed you? I think you should spend some time with him.” She looks up through her lashes at him as Lily grabs tight to one of Bobbi’s fingers.
“Alright, sweetheart, let’s get you fed,” he says as he dries the bottle off, and Bobbi lifts Lily out of the carrier. He takes Lily as she take the bottle from his hand, quickly testing it on the inside of her wrist while he gets situated.
“Hey, it’s not my dinner time yet. And I don’t eat Lily fingers,” he says, the words coming out garbled, and she looks up to find Lily with her fingers hooked in the side of Lance’s mouth. Bobbi tucks Lily’s hand back to her side as she hands the bottle over, wiping the drool off Lance’s cheek.
“At least you don’t have a full-on beard,” she comments as Lily grabs at the bottle and pills it closer. “That’d hurt like hell-.”
“Bob!”
“Oh please, she’s not even a year old. She’s still learning that her hands are attached to her body.” He side-eyes her as Lily starts to suckle, grabbing onto his thumb as her eyelids flutter shut. Bobbi watches them, smiling warmly when she sees the way Lance is staring at Lily, like his world has narrowed to nothing but her.
Her phone starts to ring from the other room and she looks over her shoulder. “Bob, you said you wouldn’t answer his calls,” he says warningly and she sighs.
“That’s not his ringtone,” she mutters, pinching the bridge of her nose. She doesn’t even need to look at Lance to know the look he’s giving her, she can already feel the pit building in her stomach.
“Bob, you told them you were taking the weekend off,” he breathes and she nods, refusing to look at him. “Bobbi, we have Lily for the weekend, you promised your brothe-.”
“I know!” she shouts at the floor and it startles Lily, who starts crying instantly. “Shit.” Lance sets the bottle down and stands, walking around the kitchen and bouncing her gently.
Bobbi unstraps the baby carrier from her chest and heads for their bedroom, unable to be in the same room as him without feeling guilty. She leans up against the door and buries her face in her hands, eyes stinging as tears well up.
They haven’t even had Lily for five hours and she’s already yelled and made her cry. How can she care for her own child if this is what happens after one measly call from SHIELD?
There’s a soft knock at the dork and she steps away as if she’s been burned. “Bob?” comes from the other side and she forces herself not to sniffle as she swipes at her cheeks. She doesn’t have time to answer before the door swings open, revealing Lance, holding a now-calm Lily, once again drinking from her bottle. “Sweetheart-.”
“I’m sorry,” she blurts, staring down at her feet, very pointedly looking anywhere except in his direction. “I just…”
“It happens, love, no one got hurt.”
“I made Lily cry,” Bobbi mumbles and he chuckles softly as he crosses the room. Once he’s close enough, he gently nudges her and she looks up through watery eyes, despite her efforts to keep it at bay.
“Babies cry, Bob. It’s bound to happen several more times throughout the night.” She doesn’t know how to respond and he sighs, herding her toward the bed. “C’mon, sit.”
“First of all, I think, you’re the one who needs some bonding time with Lily,” he says and he carefully transfers Lily into the cradle of Bobbi’s arms, and she can’t help but smile as Lily latches onto the bottle once more.
“Secondly, sweetheart, just because you make her cry doesn’t mean you’re bad with her. You haven’t dropped her, you haven’t forgotten to feed her, all you’ve done since we’ve gotten her is held her. You’re a wonderful aunt.” Her cheeks flush under his praise and he wraps an arm around her shoulder, kissing her overheated cheek.
Lily blinks up at her and pats at the back of her hand, and her heart melts. Bobbi leans her head against Lance’s as he starts to up a mindless tune.
“You need to stop humming before I fall asleep,” she murmurs as Lily turns away from the bottle with a quiet gurgle. He snorts and kisses her cheek before getting to his feet.
“I’m going to start making dinner. Do you have this under control?” Bobbi smiles at him before looking back to Lily and nodding.
Bobbi wakes up to small knees stabbing her in the stomach and hopes it's not a dream (basically Bobbi's niece is at the base and climbs into bed with Bobbi to make her feel better)
(i didn’t think they’d really care to let children on the base so i toyed with this just a little, hope you don’t mind. also this got so much farther away from me than what i intended. oops).
Lance takes her hand and spins her around, and she laughs, head thrown back, completely carefree. He pulls her back and wraps his arms around her waist, then squeezes tightly.
“Hunter! Careful, that hurts,” she giggles and he hums against her shoulder before pressing his fingers in against her ribs. “Hunter!” she yells firmly as pain radiates throughout her body.
“Aunt Bobbi!” a little girl shouts and she frowns, head whipping around as she tries to find the source.
“Aunt Bobbi! Wake up!”
She cracks an eye open to find Hannah sitting on her chest, and she grins wide, kicking her feet against Bobbi’s stomach. “Yay! You’re awake! Dad, we can have pancakes now, Aunt Bobbi’s awake!” she screams toward the door and Bobbi groans before wrapping her arms around her niece and rolling, trapping her to the bed.
“Gotcha! Gonna hold you hostage here forever!” Hannah squeals and wriggles beneath her, and Bobbi chuckles as she hugs her niece tighter.
“Bobbi, Dad made pancakes, come on!” Bobbi hums and leans down even more, smirking as she sees her brother appear in the doorway.
“Your pancakes are getting cold,” Ben muses and Hannah jerks, wiggling animatedly now, kneeing Bobbi in the stomach and ribs and hips. She manages to break free and Bobbi slumps into the mattress with a groan as Hannah races out the door.
“How does she have such bony knees?” she grumbles and Ben snorts, nodding in agreement.
“I ask myself the same thing every single morning,” he responds and she pushes a hand through her hair. “There’s an entire pot of coffee with your name on it.”
“Bless you.”
“Oh, and Hunter texted me. He’ll be here soon. His flight got in an hour ago.” She flails for her phone before gracefully rolling out of bed, smoothly walking out the door. Sure enough, she has eleven texts, three missed calls, and a new voicemail.
“Thanks for letting us stay here, Ben.”
“Hey, I get a week of free babysitting during the summer. I’m not complaining.” Bobbi rolls her eyes and punches her brother in the shoulder, nudging him toward the stairs.
“C’mon, we’d better check on Hannah before she eats all the pancakes.”
“Oh shit,” Ben hisses before taking off down the stairs, skipping the last two; some things never change. She’s about to join them in the kitchen when the front door opens, and Lance walks in.
“Smells good!” he calls out. It’s quickly followed by a loud grunt and the sound of a body slamming up against the door, no doubt him leaning against it for support as Hannah launches herself at him.
“Uncle Hunter! You’re just in time for pancakes!” she shrieks and he pretends to gnaw on her neck, sending her into a fit of giggles and squeals.
“Go eat yours then, you goof, I’ll be right there.” He looks up as Hannah drops to the floor, and he grins up at Bobbi. “Have to say hello to my gorgeous wife.” She rolls her eyes but smiles nonetheless as she descends the stairs.
“I just rolled out of bed, Hunter. I have morning breath.” He pulls her close and kisses her, one arm winding around her waist as he buries his other hand in her hair. Her knees wobble slightly and she leans into him, pressing him up against the door.
“What morning breath,” he mumbles against her lips and she tilts her head back with a laugh, bracing her hands on the door behind him.
“Careful. These clothes are already just barely appropriate.” Lance peeks over her shoulder and walks them over to the closet, just out of view of the kitchen table. His hand slides down to her ass, groping it none too gently as he pushes her up against the wall. “Hunter, there is a five year old just down the hall.”
“Fine,” he groans as he straightens up, hands resting in the small of her back. “But if we’re expected to be appropriate, then you need to not wear those shorts, bloody hell.”
She looks over her shoulder and shrugs. “Okay so they’re a little short-.”
“Bobbi, I can see your underwear. They’re a lot short.” She sighs and crouches down, rifling through his duffel and grinning in triumph when she finds a pair of sweatpants.
“Fine. No more bitching.”
“Daddy, Aunt Bobbi said a bad word!” Hannah shouts and Bobbi peeks her head around the corner.
“Someone should be eating instead of listening on other people’s conversations,” she says, sticking her tongue out, snorting when Hannah responds in turn.
“How’d you sleep?” Lance asks after she’s pulled on the sweatpants, looping his arms low around her waist.
“Woke up to being kneed in the stomach several times.” He mock-pouts and pulls her closer, and she shrugs her shoulders. “There are worse ways. It was…” She smiles fondly, cheeks flushing pink, and Lance raises his eyebrows in shock; not much can make Bobbi blush. “It was really nice.”
“Yeah? A knee to the stomach as a wake-up call? Good to know.” With a roll of her eyes, she leans in and gives him one last kiss before breaking away.
“I meant, it was nice to be woken up by a kid,” she throws over her shoulder. She’s immediately yanked backwards, pressed up against the wall once more, and she finds herself face to face with Lance, who is staring at her like she’s grown another head.
“Bobbi.”
“Hunter.”
“Bobbi,” he says once more, voice cracking, and she gives him a small smile.
“Lance.” His eyebrows fly to his hairline, an unspoken question hanging in the air, and she nods slowly as she laces their fingers. “Maybe we could start discussing it.”
Next thing she knows, her feet are suddenly off the ground and she’s being spun in a circle, Lance’s face squished against her chest. “Hunter, put me down!” she shrieks, clutching the back of his head, until she’s got both feet on the ground once more.
“Oh Bobbi,” he breathes before his mouth crashes into hers, and she finds herself backed up against the wall again, caged in by his body. “Bobbi, Bobbi, Bobbi.”
“That is indeed my name,” she jokes, expression fading into something more serious when she sees how he’s looking at her.
“Are you saying… that starting a family is on the table?” Lance’s voice gives out halfway through and she nods, watching as he practically melts in her arms. “Bobbi-.”
“Hey you two, remember that there is a child in the next room,” Ben calls out, and she snickers into Lance’s neck.
“I have a bit more decency than that,” she retorts, and her eyes narrow at the answering snort from the kitchen. She turns back to Lance, who is looking at her like she brought him the moon.
“Lance. That is what I am saying.” He hugs her, tender and warm, and she relaxes into him, curving a hand around the back of his head. “But after this week. I’d prefer not to conceive a child in my brother’s house.” He doesn’t even laugh at her joke, just buries his face in the side of her neck, and she feels something wet splash against her skin. “Hey, Lance?”
He pulls back and she brushes at the wetness gathered beneath his eyes as a grin splits her face. “I’m fine. I’m just. Bob, I’m so happy.” Lance kisses her once more before gently nudging her toward the kitchen, their fingers still laced together.
He grabs a plate and loads it up, taking a seat next to Hannah as Bobbi leans up against the counter next to Ben. “Alright,” she mutters under her breath, pointedly not looking at her brother, “how much did you hear?”
“I take it you’d prefer if I didn’t hear anything?” Ben asks slyly and she nods, letting out a sigh as she presses herself against his side.
“Thank you, Ben.”
“Mhmm. And thank you for not doing it in my house-.”
Sorry if it's morbid, you don't have to do it if you don't feel comfortable. Huntingbird + kids and huntingbird + loss. Bobbi and Lance discuss the loss of their child while Bobbi is recovering after being tortured and shot.
ohhhhhh bless you anon, no this is not morbid at all, i live for stuff like this. thank you <3
Title: make this chaos count
Ship: Lance Hunter/Bobbi Morse
Summary: “No, you're not doing this again. You've shut me out once before and look where that got us.” She immediately knows what he's talking about and her gut turns to lead.
“We're not discussing that either,” she says, her tone harsh and clipped.
