#Civilian Jet Team

[nocternalrandomness]

Black Diamond Jet team in the Aero L-39

Founded in November 2010, the Black Diamond Jet Team is a civilian aerobatic display team operating five L-39s and two MiG-17s. The team is based in Lakeland, Florida.

[gotham-adrenaline]

Let’s be real though, for the longest time Kon truly had no idea how normal humans are supposed to act.

Like logically he’s aware of how the average human body should function, but he was just not in an environment that allowed him to properly grasp what the limits of this are.

Tim is by far the worst for Kon when it comes to learning about people’s standard restrictions, especially those who aren’t metas.

Because why was someone on the bus complaining about only sleeping 6 hours a night this week? That’s ridiculous! Tim can go a week with only 6 hours total (and then fall into what is essentially a coma while all cuddled up under the blankets during a team movie night, but that’s irrelevant).

Last month a girl from one of his classes attempted to chat with him after class, joking that their professor was trying to kill them after he assigned a 10-page essay due in less than a next week, which is kind of weird since Tim wrote a 20-page essay with additional references and citations titled “Why Bart is Being Stupid and Needs to Listen to Tim’s Plans or Else”, and that only took a few hours (and then he started giving Bart these little cartoon stickers after missions if he listened and didn’t recklessly endanger himself, which was honestly really cute of Tim and made Kon slightly upset when Tim didn’t give him one too, but that’s also irrelevant).

And seriously, why is this man screaming so loudly after he only sprained his ankle? If he couldn’t handle a little pain, he shouldn’t try and mug people in Metropolis during broad daylight and within shouting distance of a Super. Besides, Tim got shot by an arrow in the thigh last week on a mission and just sighed in annoyance before continuing to download the data off the hidden lab’s computer (and then flushed bright red and didn’t complain once when Kon insisted on flying him back to the jet but that’s extra irrelevant and not something he can dwell on right now).

Kon brings this up one day to Clark, not expecting much of a conversation beyond “Hey, humans are weird, huh?” but Clark looks genuinely confused for all of 5 minutes until stuttering his way through an explanation that Tim (and the team as a whole) are the exceptions, and that the civilians he’s seen behaving “oddly” are actually very normal.

Which, in retrospect, maybe he shouldn’t have blurted out how amazing he found Tim and then fly away out of embarrassment the moment he saw Robin next, but also… well he IS amazing, and he could stand to hear it more often. Way more often… Kon would have to help with that.

[buckyalpine]

You need Bucky’s cuddles

Bucky x civilian reader

Some angst with all the fluff

You needed cuddles. It was one of those days. Nothing was particularly wrong, you just needed to be held. Specifically by a certain super soldier. Bucky had been away on missions for the past 2 months, only staying home for a few days in between to recover before he was sent off again, leaving you alone in the large compound. Tony had been more than welcoming, happy to let you live with Bucky where you'd be safest.

You'd waited all day for him to get home so you could jump into his arms and snuggle up against his chest, desperate for his warmth. The low rumble of the jet had you running off to the hangar, your feet moving faster than you could comprehend as soon as the doors opened.

"Hi sweetheart" Bucky's voice was muffled as he kissed the top of your head, catching you with ease, chuckling at the way you practically crawled up him, your legs wrapping around his waist. "My pretty girl"

"Missed you" You kept your face tucked against his neck, breathing in his scent, sighing in relief at the fact that he had no injures. You wanted nothing more than to drag Bucky up to your shared bedroom and slip under the covers for some desperate cuddle time, but instead you found yourself being set back down on your feet.

"Missed you too sweets butI gotta finish up some stuff with Steve and I'll see you soon okay?"

Your reunion was short lived as he jogged off behind the captain, both men disappearing around the corner seconds later, leaving you alone again. Your heart sunk as you made your way back inside, shaking off the uneasiness you felt.

Cuddles. You just wanted some cuddles.

But his job was to save lives, keep the world safe and you were just a civilian. Nothing you did compared the the danger he put himself through on a daily basis, you had no right to burden him by being clingy and annoying, no matter how much you missed him.

You decided to busy yourself by making a snack for the both of you, placing his share on a plate for when his was finished while you ate at the kitchen island. You didn't want to bother Bucky by being overly clingy, glancing at the clock every so often, hoping he'd come down soon. You made your way up to see if Bucky wanted to eat anything, stopping when the sound of booming laughter coming from the conference room caught you off guard.

"Bucky?" You stopped by the conference room where the Sharon, Sam, Steve and Bucky sat, papers scattered across the table though it didn't seem like they were particularly busy, all washed and changed into comfy clothes.

"Hey doll, be done in a bit" Bucky smiled while the others greeted you, going back to looking over their mission report.

"Just wondered if you were hungry" You placed a sandwich and some cookies in front of him, hoping he'd take a break and hang out with you for a bit but instead he thanked you with a kiss to your hand.

You left the group to their task, putting on a movie n your bedroom to pass the time, still glancing over at the clock as minutes had turned into an hour.

Then two.

You found yourself holding onto his pillow, your throat oddly tight as if you were fighting against your body's attempt to release all your pent up emotions.

You needed your boyfriend.

You weren't sure why. You missed him so much and the gnawing anxiety you had been feeling all day kept growing with each second he wasn't there to make you feel better.

You felt awful because you had no reason to feel this way yet it only seemed to get worse. Around dinner time, you didn't bother going down, dragging yourself out of bed to change into your pjs and trudging down the hall in hopes that the team would be wrapping up.

It wasn't uncommon for post mission meetings to take a full today but surely they could excuse Bucky from this one at least for a little while. The scent of take out carried down the hall making you stomach rumble sending your emotions tumbling down further. You hesitantly stepped into the room where they were still gathered.

"Will you come to bed soon?" You asked hopefully, shuffling on your feet while Bucky set down the papers he was skimming over. Steve and Sam looked over at you with apologetic smiles while Sharon walked over with a tray of coffee cups.

"I'm a little busy y/n, I'll come up soon, alright?" Bucky glanced over his shoulder to where you stood with your soft pjs and fluffy slippers, not catching the way your face fell as he grabbed a mug and hummed, "we still have to go over a bit more of today's footage, give me about an hour"

"You'll come in an hour?" Your bottom lip jutted out slightly, unable to control the tiny pout that made its way to your face.

"Promise love, an hour and not a minute longer, wait up for me okay?"

"Alright" You kissed his cheek before bidding the rest of them good night, ignoring the way your chest felt tight, not having the guts to tell your boyfriend that you needed him right then and there. You curled up under the sheets, tossing and turning, the bed feeling entirely too empty when you knew he was home, the faint light of the clock staring at you in the face.

You waited and waited, the lonely feeling settling deeper in the pit of your stomach as one hour turned into two. You could hear the sound of laugher from the conference room again as more time passed.

He wasn't coming.

****

Bucky hadn't noticed the time as he chuckled over a video of Sam falling out of the air, snorting each time Sharon replayed it. As soon as the mission was over, he wanted nothing more than to spend the day with you but he figured it would be best to get the mission reports out of the way first. Nothing made him happier than being home, especially when the first thing he saw was your happy face.

He munched on a fortuned cookie, scribbling down his signature on the last few sheets of paper, getting up and stretching before glancing over at the clock, his eyes growing wide when he saw the time.

Shit.

****

Hot tears started to trickles across the side of your face and onto the pillow, no longer contained by your rapid blinking. You froze at the sound of the door creaking open, the faint light from the hall pouring into the room making you bury yourself into the sheets further.

"Doll?" Bucky quietly shut the door behind him, his heart sinking at the sight of the little ball wrapped up under a heap of blankets, the sound of your muffled sniffles breaking his heart further.

"Oh angel" He strode over, slipping under the covers to wrap his arm around you, your tear stained face stayed pressed against the pillow, your arms wrapped around yourself with how badly you wanted to be held. "What's wrong love"

"M-missed you. Just wanted cuddles" Your voice came out a strained whimper, melting into a sob when he pulled you into his chest, stroking up and down your back. "Missed you so much"

"M'sorry love, I'm so so sorry" Bucky cooed, feeling more guilty and awful than ever for neglecting you and not paying attention to the time, squeezing you to his body as if you'd disappear if he let go. "M'here babygirl"

"I didn't want to bother you" You hiccupped while Bucky hushed you, shaking his head, blinking back is own tears as he kissed your dampened cheeks, before cradling your head to his chest again, the steady beat of his heart calming you down.

"Never, you'd never bother me angel, you're my priority, you always come first" Bucky's voice grew shaky, the realization of how much he missed you as well hitting him all at once, feeling the soft warmth of your body against his, the scent of your shampoo, the feeling of being home. "You deserve all the cuddles my sweet little bunny, all the cuddles in the world"

You whimpered while Bucky slipped his hoodie off, letting you rest against his bare skin, holding you securely. He frowned at the sound of your tummy rumbling, pulling away making you whine, his fingers tilting your chin to meet his eyes.

"Did you eat dinner baby?"

"I was waiting for you" You whispered while Bucky internally smacked himself, he had half a mind of letting Steve use him for training instead of their industrial punching bag. The blonde would certain be on board if he found out.

"Come here my love, let me make you dinner" Bucky scooped you up in his arms, carrying you down to the kitchen where he set you onto the counters before quickly putting together his ma's pasta recipe, one of the few meals you'd live off of. He plated a bowl and taking you right back upstairs where he fed you while keeping you tucked in his lap, kissing you between giving you bites.

"Promise you'll drag me out by the ear next time baby, I'd drop everything in a heart beat for you" Bucky cupped your face in his hands after you'd finished eating, still feeling immensely guilty, especially when you asked for so little. " Especially when you want cuddles?"

"You'll cuddle me any time?" you asked curiously while he chuckled, pulling the sheets to cover you both, once again hugging you close to his body, this time the both of you shirtless, bare skin pressed against each other.

"Any time love. Could be in the middle of a mission, I'll find us an secret place to snuggle"

"Any time?"

He turned off the alarm that was already set to wake him up for training, kissing your forehead before closing his eyes.

"Any time"

[spookyrea]

You Can Wrap Me 'Round Your Finger...

You’re having a crisis trying to pick the perfect moment to tell Loki you love him. Loki is having a crisis, too, except his is decidedly way more embarrassing. Also, your pillows keep disappearing.

(aka - frost giant biology is weird and Loki has to suffer the consequences.)

a companion to Love at First Sight (or should I walk by again?) - can be read on its own!

Chapter 1 / 2 -- read it on AO3 here

Word count: ~5k

Warnings: fem reader; Loki is CLINGY

You could just make out the rosy hue of a late-season snowfall from your vantage point behind the cockpit; it blanketed the city, turning the streets a pale orange where streetlamp light reflected off of a crisp, white coat. For a city that never slept it was strangely quiet; at just past three o’clock in the morning, not even the snow plows were out yet.

Your team was returning from a four day long deployment to San Francisco – a retrieval mission where you were tasked with tracking down and seizing off-world cargo. It had gone over surprisingly well - zero casualties, a handful of actual combat incidents, and a scant few million dollars worth of petty property damage. It did require a proper cargo plane, though, which meant that the team had to rely on a local airplane hangar to get back home. 

(Despite his truly unparalleled complaining, Tony’s choice to put the Avengers tower in the centre of a busy New York metropolitan block meant that there were certain restrictions - namely, the laws of physics - that limited the size of plane they could have on-site).

An unfortunate consequence of it all was that you were freezing. You made a face and folded your arms over your chest; you were dressed for a late February chill, in tac-pants and a knit sweater, not a snowstorm. As romantic as the snow looked, the cold was settling over you like an ache and, coupled with the early-hour and a tender bruise on your left side, your mood was only souring. You cast your eyes to the ceiling and prayed that a car was already waiting for you on the tarmac.

The quin-jet touched down a little roughly; you felt Wanda’s wince without looking at her, but Tony immediately came to her defense. “No, that was because of the snow. Poor visibility. Out of your control. Definitely. I’m passing you with flying colours - hey, get it?”

The loading ramp slid open with a pop and a hiss; your ears felt funny now that you were on solid ground, like they were full of cotton. Natasha tugged on her earlobes, then reached over and tugged on Steve’s too to be a pest. He swatted her away with a scowl. 

Moments later, attendants began to climb the loading ramp in groups of two. You scowled. They were at least dressed for the weather.

You pulled your hands from between your thighs, trying to focus on anything other than the way your core muscles were tensed against the chill, and thanked whatever powers-that-be that you could finally go home. You were half way through unbuckling your seatbelt when an automated voice warned you from overhead not to leave your seats.

“Sorry, everyone,” Tony called. “Safety or whatever. All cargo has to be removed before we can get up. Just a few minutes. You’ll be warm and in bed in no time.”

You sank low in your seat, arms crossed, and focused very hard on glaring a hole in the quid-jet floor. Who knows -- maybe you could spontaneously develop heat-vision. It would look good on your resume.

“I was beginning to think I’d have to go collect you myself.”

Crossing the jet in long strides, tall enough to peer over most attendants' heads, was Loki. Your boyfriend.  

Dressed in civilian clothing, Loki was something resplendent. His pale skin, warmed by the cool twilight haze outside, was a stark relief against his mop of riotous dark curls, and his green eyes caught the light in a mysterious way. A pair of neatly-polished shoes rattled the grated floor as he approached, weaving in between attendants, until he came to a stop at your side. With a wave of his hand, Loki manifested a fine wool cloak to drape over your shoulders. His long fingers drew the golden hook at the collar through its eye and smoothed it flat against your sternum.

“Can’t have you freezing to death,” he murmured.

You thumbed the stitching along the hem of the cloak; the thread was such a dark green that it almost blended in with the black fabric. “I would have been fine.”

“Well, if you’re too warm, I can certainly help cool you down.” Loki slid into the seat next to you and blew an icy breath across your neck, making you shriek. The grin he shot you was lecherous - truly vile , you mumbled - and sent a hot thrill from your nape to the pit of your belly.

“You are evil.”

“You should have me locked up.”

You pulled the collar of his cloak up to your face, pressing the velvety edge to your mouth. “I’m putting in a request immediately.”

Loki offered you his wrists, that sticky grin growing even wider. “Why wait?”

A flash of green seidr crackled suggestively, implying where a set of handcuffs might bind him. Your eyes snapped to the whirlwind of snow outside, cheeks hot. 

Tony gagged obnoxiously from the pilot’s seat. The comms system crackled to life overhead. “Get a room, you two.”

Loki scoffed, mock affront dripping from his lazy posture, and poured himself over your shoulders, even though the armrest was in the way and was without a doubt digging into his side. He plucked your hand from your lap, lacing his fingers through yours and drawing it up to his mouth. His lips idly traced the edge of his signet ring on your thumb while you watched the cargo roll by, box by painstaking box. 

You had only been dating for a few months, having finally confessed your mutual attraction after a tumultuous, alcohol-fueled evening together. It turned out that the entire time that you had been harbouring a monumental crush on Loki, he’d been just as gone on you - a fact you hadn’t known, since his idea of showing interest was to give you shiny rocks and hand feed you foods, and yours was whatever Tinder had going on.

Once the two of you had gotten over your - admittedly pretty embarrassing - communication barrier, you fell into a nice routine. You found that you were more confident without the weight of an unrequited crush looming over you, and Loki was eons more likely to finish his paperwork as long as you were there to play footsie with him under the table and let him ramble every fifteen minutes. He still flirted with everything that moved, but you recognized the nuances of his affection now. He never touched anyone, but he hung off of you like a limpet; he might smile and schmooze at parties, all lecherous grins and innuendo, but his eyes always sought your approval out after every punchline; and he only ever called you pet.

(And on one occasion, master. But that was a different story.)

Once the attendants had unloaded the last crate into a van, Tony gave everyone the OK to exit the plane without worrying about being trampled. Steve was the first out, blinking sleep out of his eyes. Natasha, Bruce and Tony were quick to follow, all stumbling into the first car they saw, while Wanda stayed and fiddled with a few switches from the co-pilot’s seat. Under Natasha’s suggestion, she was trying to get a proper license to fly - mostly for paperwork-related reasons, because the insurance company charged a fortune every time an Avenger ‘borrowed’ a vehicle without permission.

Before you could protest, Loki scooped up the duffle bag at your feet and started down the loading ramp into the storm, leaving you and Wanda as the last on the plane. You rapped your knuckles against the ceiling and sent her a questioning look. Decked out in her oversized headset and a fuzzy quarter-zip sweater Tony had commissioned for the team, she looked right at home behind the quinjet control panel. She shot you a thumbs up, gesturing for you to go on ahead. You blew her a quick kiss and then hurried after Loki, fighting to keep the cloak shut against the blustering wind. 

Wet snow crept under your pant legs, clinging unpleasantly to the strip of skin left exposed by your socks. Loki had already packed your belongings away in the farthest van and was waiting by the back door, held open for you. You jogged - as best you could given the weather - the last couple of feet and slid into the backseat.

Loki hauled himself through the other door a moment later. The driver - a bored looking man with a dark beard and greying temples - pushed the stick shift into gear and turned off the runway. 

You shivered, brushing clumps of snow off your ankles. Dark stains were climbing up your shins where the it bled through. Loki leaned across the seat to help you, running a shimmering hand over your shoulders to dry you off. 

Mostly satisfied, you sank back and watched the city roll by, the empty streets cast in shades of neon as the snow reflected billboards and store displays. It was a beautiful sight, the kind of morning you would normally want to commit to memory for the postcard-ness of it all – except you were exhausted and a little cranky, so you turned your eyes to stare at your boyfriend instead. 

(You made it a full three minutes without looking at him - a new personal record.)

You admired him the way an owner might creep up on a beloved pet in a sunbeam; you didn’t want him to know you were looking, in case he spooked and moved, so you kept your cheek turned and watched from the corner of your eye. He was deep in thought, luckily, which gave you some leeway to admire his profile. There was something decidedly boyish about him when he was relaxed, a softness you so rarely got to see; it made you want to kiss every inch of him just for the sake of kissing.

He drew an aimless pattern with his thumb across your upper thigh. His pinky finger was stretched comically far from the rest of his fingers, as if willing your hand to reach out and intertwine but too stubborn to ask. For a silly, love-sick moment you were overwhelmed by the need to tell him you loved him - and then your brain caught up with your heart and bludgeoned it into submission.

The knowledge that you were in love with him and the nebulous un-knowledge of how he felt about you was starting to wear on your nerves. You understood logically that he liked you - enough to court you, under different circumstances - but what you felt when you looked at him was a hurricane of emotions, a self-sustaining cycle of hot air up and cold air down, whipping the sea so hard that it formed storm clouds unbidden by the laws of nature. You knew that he felt things differently, had lived a dozen of your lifetimes no doubt filled with pretty things. Would this change your relationship? Would you breaking that last barrier make yourself less desirable somehow?

You wanted to tell him. To share the inherent joy of being in love.

It just scared you to death, was all. No big deal.

His mouth twitched; his eyes caught yours in the window’s reflection as the car entered the dark parking garage. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Nothing,” you squeaked. “Just tired. Sorry.”

The car dropped you off in the underground parking of the Avengers’ tower. Yours was the last of the convoy, so you and Loki slipped out of the car into an empty lot where only a few strangler attendants were unloading and taking inventory. You held one corner of the cloak in your hand, worried it would drag through the slush puddles tracked in by the cars. Loki’s hand came to rest on the small of your back while he hoisted your bag over his shoulder.

“After you, pet.”

You led him to the elevators, where you leaned against the railing and let your eyes slip shut. Loki selected a floor and then joined you, draping one arm around your shoulders to draw you into his chest.

You leaned your cheek against him. Now that you were home, the full weight of your exhaustion was bearing down on you. The pattern of knots Loki was drawing across the back of your neck wasn’t helping. You were suddenly grateful for the support of Loki’s body under you, solid and steady; you slid your hands under his jacket to hug him… then paused.

Something was… off.

You pulled back and gave him a once-over. Nothing outwardly betrayed him as different. He wore a pair of simple, straight-leg tac-pants and a white t-shirt under a brown vintage-style bomber he’d no doubt swiped from Bucky or Steve; the cut of each item flattered his narrow build exceedingly, a fact you knew he was aware of by the way he kept glancing at you during your drive home. His hair was wild and unstyled in a hopelessly endearing way - a look he’d taken to wearing often after you made a passing comment about liking it that way.

The jacket though… 

He filled it out well. Too well.

“You’re bigger,” you blurted out.

Loki raised one eyebrow in a perfect, mocking arch. “Excuse me?”

“You’re,” you waved your hand up and down his body, “bigger. Like, broader. Have you been working out more?”

Loki glanced down at his chest. “No?”

You pushed the jacket off his shoulders to get a better look at him. The white cotton of his t-shirt puckered across his chest, wrinkling under the strain of an extra inch or so of muscle, and the side seams were pulled so taut that you could see the thread. You poked him right over his heart, admiring a new, plush firmness.

The tips of Loki’s fingers wormed under your shirt. His smile took on a wicked edge as he soaked in the sight of you in front of him. When you shot him a look, he screwed his face up into something resembling innocence. “If you’re going to ogle me like a piece of meat, I think it’s only fair that I get to admire you, too.”

You hummed and slipped his jacket back into place, smoothing your palms down his chest to rest just above his waistband. Loki’s evilness washed away to something sticky sweet; he slid his hand up between your shoulder blades, his fingers splayed wide to admire the shift of your muscles under your skin. His other hand twined with yours to lift your knuckles to his mouth.

The doors slid open on his floor. With a flourish and a fleeting kiss, Loki stooped to collect your bag. His free hand trailed behind him, outstretched for you to take, but you lingered with a smile and a shake of your head.

He came to an abrupt stop under the threshold, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion. He wiggled his fingers, as if you were refusing because you’d missed his offer to hold your hand. “What are you doing?”

You pressed the button for your floor. “I’m going back to my room.”

“No,” Loki whined, his hand still outstretched. “Please, darling.”

You rolled your eyes and attempted to pull your bag from his hands. “I’ll see you in a few hours, Loki.”

“But you’ll miss out on my new, broader body. Your bed will seem extra empty now in comparison. You should just skip the trouble.”

“Loki, I’m tired. And all my stuff is in my apartment.”

“You can wear something of mine.” Loki, exasperated, threw your duffle down in front of the elevator door and cornered you against the railing.

“Just for the night, Loki.” You pressed a chaste kiss to his mouth, one he didn’t return… and then seemed to regret, because only a heartbeat after you pulled away he was on you, cupping your face between both his hands and swiping his tongue across your bottom lip. You huffed out a sigh and pushed on his stomach; he managed to get two more kisses in before you finally won and put some distance between the two of you.

In a perfectly Loki-fashion, Loki sulked. He stomped out of the elevator and then turned to you, his hands firmly on his hips. “You vex me. Understand that I will be taking you out for breakfast tomorrow, no exceptions.”

You hooked a finger through your bag strap, dragging it back into the elevator. “Make it a late lunch. If you wake me before noon there will be punishments.”

Loki’s eyes twitched with the briefest hint of a smirk. His voice dropped an octave. “Promise?”

The elevator doors slid shut on his leering expression. You spent the rest of the ride valiantly trying not to fall asleep. The low hum of its engine was terribly soothing.

When the elevator opened to your floor, you weren’t surprised to find PAL - Tony’s Paperwork Assistant Lite robot, who usually helped organize and retrieve files in the office downstairs - waiting by your door. Measuring just under two feet tall, PAL could navigate the halls and elevator just fine as long as FRIDAY was willing to unlock the doors for him, but your manual lock-and-key front door was an insurmountable obstacle for him.

“How long have you been here, buddy?”

As soon as he recognized you, PAL trilled with delight. His metal chassis vibrated with the effort of waiting by the door. He rounded your feet while you dug through your pants pockets for your keys, narrating the week to you in his language of whistles and beeps, and raised his tiny paper tray, straining to try and take over the weight of your duffle bag. You huffed out a laugh, leaning ever-so-slightly to the side to set it on him but not to smother; the LED display on his face narrowed, as if he was concentrating very hard on not dropping your belongings.

As soon as you were through the door, you threw your bag by your shoe rack and toed off your sneakers, leaving them in a pile on the floor. PAL set to straightening them, sweeping them to the wall with his tray ahead like a snowplow. He tried to do the same to your bag, but his treads could only pinwheel against the weight. 

You stood in the living room for a moment and folded Loki’s cloak over the back of your couch, contemplating skipping your whole routine and going straight to bed. You settled on missing a shower but washing your face - everything else could be dealt with in the morning. You made your way to your bedroom in search of clean pyjamas, then continued to the bathroom to brush your teeth, PAL close on your heels.

You had just exited the bathroom when someone knocked on your door. You tossed your washcloth into a bin on top of your washing machine and rounded the hallway to answer it.

Loki stood on the other side, dressed in a pair of black sweatpants and an oversized AVENGERS TACTICAL UNIT t-shirt. “Please, darling.”

“You have your own bed.”

“It’s too big without you.”

“You’re even bigger now. You’ll fill it out just fine.”

Loki stepped into your personal space; he hadn’t even bothered putting on shoes, wearing only a pair of grey wool socks. His hands curled around your hips as if to steady himself. “I’m afraid of the dark?”

“Try again.”

“My room was taken over by starving wolves while you were away and I only narrowly escaped.”

You sighed. You had to admit that it felt nice to have him in your arms like this, even if you knew giving in would only encourage him to lord over more of your time. “Absolutely no funny business, Loki.”

An incandescent grin split his face in two. He swooped in to kiss your cheek, then sauntered off toward your bedroom. You locked the door, made sure PAL was settled into his charging dock for the night, and then followed after your boyfriend.

You found him curled up on the side of your bed closest to the door, facing you, and holding one of your pillows hostage. He buried his nose in the fabric, a pleased sound rumbling through his chest, and watched you approach.

You swatted at him, not even bothering to round the bed, opting to crawl over his body to reach your side. Loki unfolded, abandoning the pillow to gather you up instead; his arms circled your waist and tugged you into his chest in an awkward collision of limbs, legs tangling in the comforter. You squirmed while he maneuvered you to his liking, tucking the length of his body around you tightly and nosing at the junction of your throat and jaw.

“Loki,” you chided. “I said no funny business.”

“This is a perfectly serious matter.” Loki untangled himself from you just long enough to pull the comforter over your body before sliding in beside you. One hand returned to your neck, tipping your chin back so he could press a loud kiss to your pulse point. “You don’t have enough blankets.

You stifled a yawn and pushed him to lie on his back, draping one leg over his. “Why’s that?”

Loki continued to rearrange the sheets with a scowl. “You’ll freeze to death under this thing.”

Already, your eyelids were heavy with exhaustion. You hummed. “I feel like I had more pillows than this. Maybe I’ve finally lost it.”

A small voice in the back of your mind whispered that you loved him, you loved him, you loved- 

You settled with tracing a heart over his collarbone, over and over until you fell asleep.

You woke to the sound of FRIDAY’s voice through the PA system. “Mr. Laufeyson, your presence is being requested on the thirty-first floor. Mission briefing in fifteen minutes.”

You peeled your eyes open. You could tell by the slant of the sun through the curtains that it was past noon - a small victory, really. Behind you, Loki burrowed deeper into the fabric of your t-shirt, nosing along the ladder of your spine while groaning his displeasure. He drew the comforter around you tightly, trapping you under one muscular arm with a vengeance.

His voice, still deep and rasping with the last threads of sleep, rumbled through his chest. “Good morning, dear heart.”

Lovesickness bloomed like a bruise in your chest. “Morning,” you said, instead of I love you. 

You half-turned and pecked the side of his mouth before sitting up. Loki made an affronted sound and reeled you back in by a fistful of your t-shirt, sending you sprawling halfway across his chest. He kissed you soundly, licking into your mouth with a low groan.

You blinked up at him once he pulled back. “Um. Good morning?”

“I was a perfect gentleman all night and you reward me with a peck. ” A scowl twisted his pretty face, petulance dripping off him in droves. His hands slid over your ass possessively, kneading the soft flesh with purpose. “I should have you flogged for that. Put over my knee.”

“Patience is a virtue,” you mumbled.

“Wrong faith, pet. Now- wait, where are you going?”

You paused, halfway through peeling yourself out of his arms (again), and pointed at the ceiling where FRIDAY’s voice reminded him that he was needed in thirteen minutes, Mr. Laufeyson . ”You have a debrief and I have a date with my coffee pot.”

“Not after you so callously rejected me. Come down here and make it up to me.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned in to kiss him again, slowly but deeply. Loki chased your mouth when you pulled away, frustration evident in the heavy way he sighed. Lifting you by the hips, Loki deposited you in his lap and held you there, digging his thumbs into the plush of your sides. Using the resulting sigh to his advantage, Loki cradled the back of your head and bullied your lips apart, pulling a sticky kind of want from your chest, leaving you dizzy and aching all at once.

When FRIDAY gave him a five minute warning, blinking the emergency strobe in the corner of your bedroom for good measure, Loki finally drew himself away and let you catch your breath. His head tipped back against the pillow, his throat on display in a long submissive line, and his shiny mouth parted in a groan. He mumbled something in his mother tongue, your name nestled right between lilting consonants.

“What was that?”

“Nothing important.” 

“One day you’ll teach me what you’re saying,” you grumbled. “And then I’ll know all your secrets.”

Loki lazily arched one brow, smothered behind a curtain of riotous curls. “Is that so? All of them?”

“Mhm. All of it. Every last one.”

You traced a finger down the line of his nose. If ever there was a moment to tell him you loved him, now was probably it. Here, on the laziest of saccharine mornings, while the city outside was muted by a thick wall of snow and you were both ignoring responsibility to enjoy the other. And yet– doubt wove its way through your ribs, tying knots in the hollow spaces in your chest; you rolled off of him and sat up, pulling the hem of your shirt down where it had ridden up. “FRIDAY is going to bring the appliances to life if you don’t leave soon.”

Loki poised himself on the edge of your bed and snagged your wrist when you rounded it. There was nothing to the gesture – no comment, no complaint to make. He held onto you for the simple joy of owning a second of your time.

As if one cue, PAL rolled through your bedroom door, his little paper tray aloft. He chirped in greeting, then ran head-long into one of the bed frame’s legs. 

You tamped down a lingering disappointment. Later. You would tell him later.

“Pest.” Loki swatted at PAL, who had taken to repeatedly bumping into Loki’s shins to convince him to get dressed. You gasped scoldingly when Loki shot a warning green spark in the robot’s direction; PAL, undeterred, narrowed the LED display on his face and wound up, knocking the god extra hard for good measure.

“PAL, go sit in the living room. You can pick something on Netflix for us to watch. And you,” you pointed a finger at Loki. “No threatening the robot.”

You left him to dig through your closet for something to wear; the far corner was steadily developing a growth of black, Loki-sized clothing. While you busied yourself with the coffee machine, PAL chirped at the TV and then parked himself in front of your window with his face pressed against the glass. Once your coffee was poured, you left out the gaudiest mug you owned – chipped, declaring you were Thor’s Number One Fan!, which Loki hated with a burning passion – and a spoon for when he joined you.

PAL beeped distractedly when you joined him by the window; there was a tender tilt to his little head as he gazed out, studying a pair of birds who had built their nest just below. His body shuddered, as if sighing, and his LED display blinked one long, slow blink.

It started as a tiny bundle of twigs a few weeks ago, trembling in the wind but shielded from the elements in the nook between a metal support beam and the windowsill. Then a few pieces of long grass were woven in, and a handful of fresh green branches, still flexible in their newness. They must have finished their home while you were away; two mates were deep under the spell of a snowy Sunday morning, bundled up under a layer of down and straw.

A solid pair of arms wound around your waist, drawing you backwards into an equally solid chest. Loki’s hair was damp where he’d run wet fingers through it, no doubt trying to contain the curling mess of bed head he woke up with every morning. It clung to your cheek a bit, the crown of his head pressed up to your face while he nosed at your shoulder. “Oh, hi– hello.” 

“I don’t want to go,” Loki whined. He rocked you gently from side to side, resting his cheek against yours. “We should feign illness. It’s dreadfully contagious. And then we can—” a kiss, just under your ear, “stay in bed all day. To recuperate, of course.”

“As lovely as that sounds, you really do have to go. You know how Steve gets when you’re late.”

“As soon as I can I’m coming right back up here to ravish you. That’s a promise.”

PAL cooed, excited by some small movement from the birds. One of them had woken to preen the other, sweetly running its beak through its feathers.

“Look at their little nest. How cozy,” you said quietly. “Maybe that’s where my pillows went.”

The longer Loki considered the birds, the deeper the furrow between his brows grew. He seemed to be having a revelation of some kind. “I… have to speak with my brother about something.”

“Something wrong?”

“No. Just a thought. Don’t worry.”

PAL rolled backwards into Loki’s shins with purpose. He chirped sternly, as if chiding Loki in his machine-speak, who, in return, toed PAL’s chassis very gently in warning. 

You laughed. “He’s coming, buddy.”

“Actually,” Loki muttered darkly. “On the contrary. My problem is that I’m not-”. You suspected the next words out of his mouth would have been incredibly inappropriate, had PAL not rolled pointedly over Loki’s foot.

You exited the elevator on the 31st floor a few hours later. A far cry from Tony’s party, the room was empty and mostly tucked away; chairs were stacked on tables and the bar was cleared of bottles; bright, unfiltered sunlight poured through the enormous lofted windows, allowing you an unobstructed view of the skyline and the meandering streets below. A couple of interns were having lunch on one of the couches in the corner. They must have been part of the newest wave of college recruits, because their eyes lingered in a starstruck kind of way that made you feel a little embarrassed. 

You shot them a playful salute. Both startled, turning away in a rush.

Oh well. You couldn’t look Steve in the eyes for your first week on the team– you got it.

You found Loki in the farthest conference room, sat at the end of a long, round table between Steve and Bucky. You watched their fingers walk across its surface, handing a piece of folded paper between the three of them. Steve wrote something while the speaker was turned, then slipped his hand surreptitiously under the desk. Bucky coughed; from your vantage point, you saw his and Loki’s fingers unravel the note so they could read it discreetly.

Some executive droned at the other end, gesturing to a dreadfully laid out powerpoint. Matching manilla folders were spread open in front of the agents; you had a sneaking suspicion that whatever the speaker was saying was also written down and could have been read in half the time this meeting took.

You tried to catch Loki’s eye through the window but his attention was aimless, lost in some faraway place. A thought came to you; you rearranged your belongings to clasp your hands in front of you. Squeezing your eyes shut, you prayed - albeit poorly - to the god sitting a few dozen feet from you.

You peeked through one eye to see if it had worked; through the glass, Loki shot you a private smile, so sweet that it was practically a kiss. You waved him over, jerking your head toward the conference room door.

You watched him interrupt the speaker, his lazy posture rolling forward until he was sitting straight. Steve and Bucky nodded sagely, immediately following whatever story Loki had spun. Bucky pointed exaggeratedly to his metal arm, rubbing it as if it was tense.

The door opened and Loki slipped out into the hallway to meet you. Your grin bordered on becoming painful. Both your hands were folded behind your back. “You didn’t have breakfast this morning.”

“Observant.” He plucked a loose thread from the collar of your shirt and flicked it aside before leaning in for a quick kiss. You decided, even if you couldn’t say you love him, to treat him no less lovingly; you chased him when he pulled away, pressing your lips to his jaw. His grin was dazed, like you’d turned him dumb with the simple act of wanting him. “You’re even lovelier than the last time I saw you.

“I brought you something. Pick a hand.”

Loki walked his fingers down your left arm and pulled; you let him have it, your palm open – and empty. “Oh, that’s too bad.”

“Hmm. Terrible luck.” His knuckles dragged down the length of your other arm. In that hand was a take-out container from your favourite coffee shop, defaced with a smiley-face and cute message from the barista, Yvonne. It was his usual order, nothing special, but when his eyes tipped up to meet yours, there was something uncharacteristically open about his expression, a shy edge to the tilt of his smile. He leaned in and kissed you, soft and sweet like honey. “Do you think they’ll notice if I’m gone much longer?”

“Absolutely.”

Loki groaned, tipping your hips until they were flush to his. He kissed you hard enough to bend you backwards.

“I’ll come by your apartment tonight and we can get dinner?”

His fingers stilled where they were kneading your sides. “Yes, about that. Let’s… Let’s stay at yours tonight. The wolves that chased me out last night haven’t been evicted yet.”

Loki's answer confused you – he’d spent the entire night complaining that you wouldn’t go back to his room, then insulting your blanket choices, and now he wanted to stay at yours? “Ok. That works. Is everything okay?”

“Fine,” he said quickly. “Perfectly fine. You’re so tired though. Easier to stay where your belongings are. I won’t– won’t make you commute.”

You eyed him suspiciously. “Behave today.”

Another groan, this one pitched low; Loki traced your cheek with his nose. “I love it when you order me around.”

“Loki! Be-have.”

“Just one more, nymph. To tide me over.”

You sent him off with three more kisses. You were starting to wonder if you were too lenient with him; he delighted in taking advantage of your weakness to weasel more affection out of you. He returned to the conference room with his little box, opened in his lap under the table. When Bucky made to swipe a grape, Loki flicked his hand away with a glare.

When you returned to your room that evening, with Loki hot on your heels and his hands already halfway up your shirt, you were baffled to find your bed down one more pillow.

“PAL, did you do this?”

He shook his little head, LED screen blinking wide doe eyes up at you. It was the strangest thing, but when he thought you weren’t looking, you could have sworn that he shot Loki a pointed look.

[workersolidarity]

[ 📹 Israeli occupation airstrikes targeted Khan Yunis, in the south of Gaza, leaving several casualties among paramedics and civil defense teams. The Palestinian Red Crescent says occupation forces continue to target ambulance and civil defense crews in the latest of Israel's crimes.]

🇮🇱⚔️🇵🇸 🚨 💥PARAMEDICS AND JOURNALISTS TARGETED ON 97TH DAY OF ISRAELI GENOCIDE💥

Israeli Occupation Forces ramped up their bombing and shelling of the Gaza Strip Thursday, killing dozens and targeting journalists and paramedics on the 97th day of the Israeli genocide of Palestinians.

In the south of the Gaza Strip, six Palestinian civilians were killed and many more wounded east of Khan Yunis, as a result of bombing raids by Israeli jets.

Also in the South of Gaza, occupation aircraft bombarded the home of the Bassam Abu Namous family on al-Samasma Street, west of Khan Yunis, killing seven civilians and wounding 25 others.

Occupation helicopters also fired sporadically into Khan Yunis, killing 19 over the previous day, due to Israeli bombardment.

IOF soldiers also continue to bomb and shell various residential homes in the Qaizan al-Najjar neighborhood in the south of Khan Yunis.

In Gaza City, IOF warplanes targeted the home of journalist Mohammed al-Thalathiini, killing the reporter and bringing the death toll among journalists in Israel's genocide to 112 since October 7th.

Israeli forces also targeted the al-Bureij, al-Maghazi, al-Nuseirat and the al-Mughraqa Camps area in central Gaza with heavy artillery fire and bombing raids.

In addition to these crimes, a Palestinian youth was seriously wounded as a result of targeting by an Israeli missile fired from a drone on al-Bahr Street in Rafah, southern Gaza.

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the north of Rafah, southern Gaza Strip, the Abu Hatab family home was targeted by the Israeli occupation, killing six and wounding several others.

A multitude of wounded Palestinian civilians were also rushed to al-Shifa Medical Complex in the west of Gaza City, with three citizens killed from the Machi family, in the vicinity of the now defunct and destroyed Gaza International Airport that once existed in the enclave's capital.

In central Gaza, six Palestinians, including four from ambulance crews, were slaughtered when occupation jets targeted and bombed an ambulance on Salah al-Din Street, adjacent to the al-Maghazi Refugee Camp.

According to the Palestinian Red Crescent Society (PRCS), the Israeli occupation "deliberately targets" its ambulance crews, even when coordinating with International partners, with the PRCS warning against the targeting of the few remaining medical centers in the area.

A Palestinian residential home was also targeted near the entrance to al-Aqsa Martyrs Hospital in the Deir al-Balah area, resulting in the deaths of 12 civilians including journalist Ahmed Badir.

While in central Gaza, in the al-Maghazi Refugee Camp area, at least 17 civilians were murdered in strikes by occupation munitions, while Israeli forces also heavily bombed and shelled the al-Bureij and Nuseirat Camp residential areas.

In addition, Wafaa al-Bass, a recently freed prisoner held by the occupation, was killed in her home in the north of the Gaza Strip.

Since the beginning of Israel's genocide of Palestinians in the Gaza Strip began on October 7th, 2023, in excess of 23'357 Palestinians have been killed, with an additional 59'410 wounded in Israeli war crimes.

#source1

#source2

#videosource1

@WorkerSolidarityNews

[lay-z]

✨️ Day 4 ‒ Mama's boy

Synopsis: Captain Price knows he can count on his team; no matter what and no matter when. He knows it and his soldiers know it, too. 1–4–1. Still, to say you were shocked when he’d asked you to play his darling girlfriend at his annual family Christmas gathering, is an understatement.  

Pairing: John Price x fem!Reader  Warnings/Info: No smut. | military!Reader; humour; fake dating (or is it???); awkward flirting; sexual tension; cussing; fluff; happy ending; teammates to lovers 

Word count: 2.4k 

↳ back to 🎅🏼 Masterlist ☃️

This is for the lovely @staytrueblue ! You've become the absolute Captain John Price expert to me. Hope you'll like it! 🩵

You pick at the hem of your dress; deep red velvet with elegant long sleeves, a tight top with a Carmen neckline which allows a peek of the soft curve of your shoulders, and a bottom that flows seamlessly into a skirt that reaches just above your knees.

A white pearl choker adorns your neck, along with the matching earrings. You’ve done your hair and make-up, and added a spritz of your most expensive perfume – and you don’t question yourself why you’re even doing this much, but perhaps it’s simply the all-consuming urge to please and impress your Captain, like an eager pup with its owner.

You’ve cleaned up nicely for tonight and you’d be more focused on that if it wasn’t for that tight ball of anxiety manifesting deep down in your gut since this whole ruse had taken root a few days ago. It didn’t help when Price gave you a genuine compliment after picking you up from your apartment on base, either.

Trying to relax back into the soft leather of the passenger seat, you decide to glance out of the window and distract yourself by watching the steady storm of snowflakes flutter furiously outside, covering the scenery in fresh powdery snow while the engine of the car purrs steadily.

Aston Martin Vantage. V8. British racing green. Jet-black rims. Sleek interior. Holy shit.

You’ve never sat in a car like this before, nor did you expect Price to own something fancy and flashy like this. Then again, you didn’t expect him to ask for this favour, either.

“Would you stop worrying, darling? You’ll be fine.”

Your eyebrow quirks as you glance at Price, giving him a side-eye as you hear how casually he drops that pet name in that gruff voice of his. It shouldn’t feel like this, this right, shouldn’t make the hair at the back of your neck bristle this pleasantly.

Darling.

“Getting into character already, sir?” You can’t help but ask teasingly, unable not to take the piss out of this whole situation you’ve found yourself in.

Your Captain and superior asking you, one of his Sergeants of all people, to accompany him to his annual family Christmas get together, and what a shit show it is going to be. You’re sure of it.

However, Price huffs, brows furrowing as he keeps his sharp eyes focused on the snowy road.

“Might as well,” he counters curtly, “and stop calling me ‘sir’, will ya? We’re not on duty and I need this – us – to be believable.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you make a dismissive gesture with your hand, pondering for a moment before turning your head to really take a good look at him this time.

John looks handsome, too handsome and too civilian, wearing a dark grey chequered pair of chino pants that accentuates his firm rear a little too well, with black dress shoes and a simple black turtleneck sweater that stretches over his broad chest, shoulders and bulging biceps.

The cab of his car is cosy warm and filled with the scent of his tangy yet subtle cologne, a smell that makes you want to hook a finger into the hem of his turtleneck sweater, tug the fabric down to expose his neck and then bury your nose in it to take a sniff.

Yes, no, you’re absolutely normal about all of this.

Your eyelashes flutter as you blink those thoughts away at once, clearing your throat awkwardly.

“So, uh... W-What should I call you, then? Honey buns? Babe?” You quip and cringe internally at your own joke, though you’re gauging his reaction as he drives over to his parents' house.

“Baby? ... Good boy?”

His jaw clenches under his beard, you can see it in the way his temple twitches, and the leather of the steering wheel creaks softly as he grips it tighter. Interesting.

“John is fine,” he answers eventually, “Sweetheart or love if you’re feeling bold enough after a glass of wine, ya bloody lightweight.”

“Sweetheart... Love...” You repeat those pet names quietly, testing them out on your tongue regarding him, still your Captain and superior – and the man you’ve been harbouring feelings for, for the past few years, if you’ll finally start to be really honest with your damn self.

“Okay, I can do that.”

He reaches over and pats your knee; the warmth of his rough palm seeping through the thin fabric of your black tights, “I know you can, darling.”

The first few minutes were incredibly awkward, but that’s just you – being incredibly awkward in general.

Put yourself in any gunfight, jumping out of planes, fake dating Gaz or Soap for a mission, or stalking a target for days on end without a break – no problemo, – but social interactions outside of the field? One such as this?

Oh, boy.

However, you stick to the plan, to the detailed briefing John has given you prior to tonight, and it does seem to work.

His father, William, is surprisingly chatty, but you could also already smell the bourbon on his breath when he went in for a brief hug at the front door.

His mother, Margaret, though, she’s not an easy read, and you quickly realize where your Captain got his steadfastness from. A proper lady who’s obviously the head of this household. He’s got her piercing eyes and appraising look, and you know you’re being scrutinized thoroughly, but she’s friendly enough and gives you space, though you’re already anticipating the moment she’s going to herd you away from her son to put you through the wringer like a wet kitchen towel.

His older brother, Robert, wife Deborah, and two kids, Luke and Ben, are easy to fool, though it seems old Bobby gets a kick out of trying to make his younger brother and especially you flustered. It doesn’t work on John, but after a first glass of wine, you have to admit that it does work on you.

Robert is even less funny than John and that’s just because he’s trying too hard; trying too hard to make everyone like him, and you wonder why John lets him get away with it, but then again, Robert’s the firstborn son, so maybe it’s just the respect John is forced to have for his older brother that’s holding him back. Classical sibling and brother hierarchies, and all of that.

“Say, how did Johnny even manage to woe a woman like you? He’s as charming as an ice pick that one.” Robert dares to ask during dinner, and you actually get offended by that.

“Charming enough for me,” you retort, staring daggers at him and wishing you had an ice pick to throw right about now, “I prefer a straightforward man over some bootlicker.”

Deborah laughs while Robert looks bewildered, eyes flickering between you and John, who’s seated next to you. You cringe internally at yet another blunder, but then you see John’s smug smile out of the corner of your eyes, and his hand finds your knee again under the table, lingering there for the remainder of dinner.

His mother keeps watching and observing from her seat across from you at the long table, a small smile tugging at the corner of her red-painted, wrinkly lips.

John’s younger sister, Alice, shows up right after dinner, before everyone is moved back into the spacious living room to exchange presents; with the large, decorated Christmas tree looming in the corner next to the fireplace, where the birch wood is already crackling nicely.

Alice is an artist, a photographer, living in Paris. Her flight got delayed due to the weather, hence why she’s late. It’s clear by the way John pulls her into a tight hug while simultaneously calling her a muppet that he prefers her over Robert.

She’s a cold breeze of fresh air; a whirlwind full of buzzing energy, joy and kindness, and she would almost be too much for you in any other situation, but when she embraces you gleefully and welcomes you into the family, it’s too easy to get lost in that fantasy for a moment.

This whole ruse is starting to turn cruel on you, really.

Especially, when John’s large and warm hand comes to rest on the small of your back, just above the curve of your rear, once Alice demands to take a picture of you two in front of the Christmas tree. You glance up at him as he towers next to you, smiling boyishly at his little sister while he pulls you closer into his side, one arm curling around your waist and making you go somewhat rigid as you practically feel his strength and dominance radiating off his body, and there is a touch of possession in the way he’s holding you, too.

Or perhaps, you’re simply imagining it.

A sudden camera flash goes off, blindsiding you momentarily and you blink away the dots blurring your vision when Alice speaks up again.

“Alright, thanks for the mugshot, cherié,” she quips, snapping her fingers at you as if to wake you up, “Give me a good one now, aye? I need to capture proof that John actually brought a woman home for once. Look at your poor man; bloody sap’s completely infatuated with you.”

Infatuated? You blink dumbly and glance up at him instinctively as if to check for that yourself, acting as if you could tell how said infatuation would even look like.

And then, your stomach drops and the blood in your veins starts simmering, toes curling in your pumps to ground yourself as soon as your eyes lock with his slightly glazed, steel blue eyes, like a steady flow of ice melting in a rivulet.

Sometime, somehow, in this moment, your hand reaches up to rest on his chest, manicured fingers splaying over the fabric of his sweater to feel his strong heartbeat thudding against your palm–

... and then, Alice coos at you two – breaking the spell.

“Yes! That’s more like it, cherié!”

You excuse yourself after Alice gets the perfect picture to her liking, and before John can follow you, his mother urgently calls out to him, asking for his help in the kitchen.

Meanwhile, you almost feel bad that Alice’s family photo album will have a staged picture of a fake relationship in it, one that will taint it with a big, fat lie.

It shouldn’t be like this. You shouldn’t be here tonight and yet, you are, after having agreed way too quickly and eagerly to the Captain’s request to play his girlfriend and help getting his family to back off.

Now, you find yourself wandering the hallways upstairs of his old family home, where he grew up in, you’d learned; sipping your glass of white wine absentmindedly while you study the rows upon rows of pictures littering the walls, like a walkway through time.

It feels like overstepping a boundary, but John should’ve expected you, a trained special forces soldier, to sneak off at some point to snoop around a bit; he never explicitly told you not to, after all.

You get stuck on graduation pictures of all three siblings, though your eyes linger on John, standing at attention in his dress uniform; tall, handsome, very beardless and fifteen years younger, at least, and you catch your smile before it can spread into something too fond.

Taking another slow sip, you feel a familiar presence behind you; still, you wait for him to address you first and maybe chew you out for being nosy.

“Don’t get caught up in the past, darling,” his gruff voice cuts through the peaceful silence, “I’ve long lost that youthful charm and vigour.” He chuckles gruffly.

Darling. There it is again.

“You can drop the act when we’re alone,” you mumble into the glass as you take another sip, trying to get rid of that damn flutter of nerves deep in your stomach, “I’m positive we’ve fooled them well enough tonight, sir.”

His footsteps are dulled by the carpet covering the hardwood floor as he keeps approaching you from behind, and your grip tightens around the wine glass, nearly shattering the delicate glass, when John’s powerful arms come to wrap around your midriff from behind; his buff body moulding against your back like it’s meant to be.

Admittedly, you go rigid again, holding your breath, stiff as a board.

His breath is warm, a hint of smooth bourbon catching in your nostrils as he leans in to murmur against your ear while his arms tighten around your waist, “I told you to stop calling me ‘sir’, haven’t I? Mhm, darling?”

You shudder involuntarily in his sudden embrace, this forbidden intimacy, breath hitching as your brain begins to short-circuit at once.

“Yeah… You did,” you croak out, voice coming out too breathlessly for your own liking, “But there’s no one to fool here right now, John.”

His chest rumbles and reverberates against your back with something like a pleased hum when you use his first name.

“Not trying to fool anyone, love. ’s just you and me now. ‘sides–”

He then nuzzles his nose against the exposed juncture where your neck meets your shoulder, trailing the tip of his nose along the smooth curve while his beard scratches over your skin pleasantly.

“My bloody mother knew the moment we stepped over the threshold of this house. Thought I’d trained ya better than tha’, Sergeant, or were you not faking any of this after all, hm?”

Despite your better judgement, you allow yourself to lean into his embrace, feeling his body heat seeping through the velvety fabric of your dress.

“Were you?” You counter-ask overzealously, tongue loosened by the alcohol you’ve already consumed, before biting down on your bottom lip, though you can’t take your question back to swallow the words like you probably should have.

“Faking it… I mean.” You add, clearing your throat awkwardly as you continue clutching your wine glass.

There is a heavy pause, one that has your pulse thrumming violently in your neck with each passing second of his silence, until John’s low, gravelly voice murmurs, his lips brushing over that sensitive spot right below your ear.

“Thought I was already being terribly obvious, darling.”

[buckypinetrees]

Warm

Pairing: Bucky x Avenger!Reader (No use of Y/N)

Summary: You and Bucky are forced to go on a team bonding getaway together. Tensions rise.

Warnings: 18+ Minors Do Not Interact, enemies-to-lovers, boob play, oral (Fem receiving)

A/N: First fanfic I've written in years and the first time I've ever written for Bucky. Feedback is very much appreciated in the comments.

Part 2

You had run out of places to run. You had run further into the woods than you intended. You had been trained for this, you reminded yourself. Taking a deep breath, you scanned the area around you. The knotted mess of trees and plants surrounding you struck no chords of familiarity in your bones. You were lost.

“You lost, doll?” you heard a voice sneer. The voice of the man you were stuck with out here in the middle of nowhere for a “training session” Bucky Barnes. 

“I’m fine,” you mustered as much anger and spite into your voice as you could manage. 

“I could show you the way back.” The stupid smirk that pervaded your dreams gleamed. 

            You pushed forward avoiding talking to him further. You heard him try to continue the banter, but your mind was elsewhere. Stuck on the fact that you had to spend an insufferable week here with him in the name of team bonding. You understood why Steve had made the decision. The last fight between you and Bucky had ended in the drywall of the training room being completely turned to bits. But there had to have been other ways. Surely, they could have sent you guys on different missions, planning out your schedule so your presences never had the chance to grace each other. But no, here you were with the man who had made your entire time at the compound a living hell.

Finally coming out of your thoughts you examined the area surrounding you. The woods thickened and the whisper of birds sang above you. Peaceful. That was what this was. Maybe the first semblance of peace you encountered since yesterday when you were jetted here against your will. Your pleas for anything different fall on deaf ears. Steve had said it would be good for you. 

You had sat in the clearing for what seemed like hours. The sun had started to set in the distance and the birds stopped chirping. The temperature had fallen what seemed like 20 degrees in an hour and you realized you didn’t have much time to get back to the cabin before you froze to death. Maybe death would be sweeter than the taunting and humiliation you would face if you had returned there. Before you left you told Bucky that you would rather die than spend a night in the cabin with him. Returning now would make it seem like you were weak, and you couldn’t stand the smug look that would be on his face when you returned. 

“Still lost, little dove?” his voice rang in your ears.

“Don’t call me that” you bit back the urge to scream at him. He had been using these pet names against you from the moment you arrived. Seeing you as nothing but an average civilian. 

“It’s getting cold out, and I’m not going to let your stubbornness get you killed,” Bucky admitted. You answered with a vulgar gesture. “Okay, have it your way, I’m returning to the cabin. You can follow me back or you can freeze.” 

You heard Bucky’s footsteps soften as he started walking away. You rose, knees aching as you stretched them for the first time in hours. Trying to be as quiet and discrete as possible you followed his trail back to the cabin. It took you a while, not to realize how deep you had truly ventured into the woods. Watching him through the window you readied yourself for his snide remarks. You could handle this. You rarely lost your temper in other situations but with Bucky, there was just something truly infuriating about him. 

Walking through the door, the smell of the stove pervaded your senses. He had made dinner, probably just for himself. The conditions of this little “getaway” were simple. The cabin was made available for you two to shelter in but everything other than that you would have to fend for yourself. So, no food, unless you hunted, no clean water unless you searched for it, and no heat unless you cut the wood yourself. You thought back to how stupid you had been. Instead of spending the first day here using your efforts to find any of these things, you threw a tantrum. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until you smelled the aroma of food sizzling on the stove. 

“Hungry, doll?” He sneered as if reading your mind. “Too bad you were lost in the woods the entire day. I only had enough time to find a meal for myself.” His eyes found yours as he hit his mark with his ravenous words. 

“I said earlier, I am fine. I don’t need your help here. I’m on the team for a reason. I can survive the week just fine” not daring to give him the dignity of seeing you fail. You made your way towards the shower. You heard him chuckle behind you. You locked yourself inside the bathroom, trying to steady yourself. You hated the smug expression on his face. He would be truly handsome if he didn’t have such a bitter interior. Being this close to him made you want to rip his throat out. This was going to be a long week. 

            You emerged from the shower, dressed in your night clothes. The only luxury you and Bucky were afforded was packing your clothes for the week. Bucky was spread out on the couch, a grin spread across his lips. 

            “Oh, just so you know, I didn’t get any wood for the fire. I don’t need it seeing my enhancements and all, but you might get cold. Should’ve thought about it before you acted like a toddler earlier” his grin never ceased as he eyed you up and down. His gaze always felt dirty on your skin. He would never see you as part of the team. To him, you were just a stray they found and had the kindness to take in. 

            You didn’t deign to respond to his mockery. The less you had to talk to Barnes the better. You simply shuffled past him to reach the bedroom. An old shaggy duvet sat aloft a bed that looked like it hadn’t been used in decades, but it would do. You wrapped yourself as tightly in the blanket as possible already feeling the chill seeping into your bones, both from the cold and your lack of nutrition. You ignored it, wishing you could also ignore the whistles and hums coming from the living room. He was loving this. Your misery was delicious to him. He was drinking it in. You tried to turn off the thoughts running through your head and slept.

            You had awoken in the middle of the night shivering. The cold is too impertinent now to ignore. On top of that, you were hungry. You hadn’t eaten since you guys had started the flight here, almost 24 hours ago. Tossing and turning, you had tried to stay in bed for as long as possible. Finally rising you made your way to the bathroom. It was a smaller room. Maybe it kept heat trapped in better. As you walked out of the bedroom, Bucky rose to sit up on the couch. 

            “What are you doing up?” His voice was husky with sleep. Any other man with this voice would make your toes curl and you would be completely pliant in his hands. 

            “I had to go to the bathroom.” You whispered out meekly.

            “Sure, little dove, it’s not because your cold right?” You shook your head, not daring to talk again in case your teeth chattered. “You see,” Bucky continued, “with my enhancements, I could hear your little body shivering in that bed. The sound of your chattering teeth started to sound like white noise. You know I could help you if you just admit that you acted like a brat this morning.” 

            You scoffed at him. Why would you not act the way you had when forced to go on this little retreat with him? And what did he mean by helping you? You had had enough of him. 

            “I don’t need your help, Barnes. You’re an ass!” Your tone rises as you spit the words at him.

            “You say one thing and yet your body betrays you every time. Look how hard you’re trying not to shiver. C’mon, just admit it. You acted like a spoiled little brat today and you need me to fix your mistakes.” His eyes never left your frame as he examined the way your body continued to shake from the cold. 

            “No.”

            “Okay then freeze, but then you’re going to be weaker tomorrow because you didn’t get any sleep and then I’ll have to spend all day caring for your ass because Steve made me promise that I wouldn’t let you die out here” he grunted out. “So, either let me take care of you now, or deal with it tomorrow. It’s your choice little dove.”

You wanted to scream at him, fight him, anything to wipe the smug grin that sat on his face like a permanent fixture when you were in his presence. You felt the heat radiating off him. He didn’t even need a blanket to keep warm. Your words betrayed your mind as you muttered out a “fine.” He rose from his spot on the couch moving closer to you. That ever-present smirk waltzing towards you.

“I’d offer you a spot on the couch, but it might be a little small for the two of us. Shall we move this to the bedroom?” His eyes raked over your figure as he stepped closer. Just being this close to him was already starting to warm you up. Not to mention the heat that flooded your cheeks at the word he spoke. 

He grinned as he gripped your hand. “Hmm, you are freezing.” A brief glimpse of concern showed on his face. “Don’t worry we’ll get you all warmed up doll.”

You followed him into the bedroom, assessing how you would get him back tomorrow for making you feel so weak. Climbing onto the bed you felt him wrap his body around you. A weird foreign feeling to be seeking out comfort from what you considered your sworn enemy. But he was so warm, and his hands felt so gentle as he traced lazy shapes onto your chill-bitten skin. Your head instantly went empty as you savored the way his body pressed against your backside. He truly was beautiful with his dark locks and his cerulean blue eyes. The cold must’ve affected you worse than you thought if you were thinking such sweet things about Bucky. 

            While you were lost in thought you had continued to shift ever so slightly against him. His hand stopped instantly steadying you.

            “Stop moving” he managed to growl out with a hint of something different in his voice. Unconcerned you continued to shift as you tried to get comfortable and that’s when you felt it.

            “B…Bucky” you managed to squeak out now aware of his current situation. His hands felt too hot suddenly. Your body temperature rises way too high as the flush spread from your cheeks to your chest. You thanked God as you realized it was too dark for him to notice the blush spreading throughout his body. You shifted so that your backside was no longer pressed against him. Your body fully turned to him now. 

            “I think I’m warm enough now Bucky,” your voice was barely a whisper.

            “You know what I think…” Bucky paused assessing the words he was about to say, “I think you’re a brat who makes it so damn hard for me to think about anything but this when you’re in the room.” He punctuated the sentence by gripping your ass in his hands hard, earning a moan out of you. 

            “Bucky,” you moaned out brokenly, too high off adrenaline to push him away or pull him closer. 

            “And do you know what I think you truly need? To be taught to mind your manners,” His voice dripped with lust as he moved his lips to your neck barely ghosting them over your pulse point. 

            You were a mess against him. You felt the dampness in your panties and your blood pound beneath your skin. Every sense was going haywire as you felt his hands roam your body. He took his time grabbing at every inch of your skin through your clothes. 

            “Please” you choked out. “Please touch me.”

            “Aww…She does have manners,” He responded mockingly. “But I am touching you, maybe I need to teach your patience as well.” His hands gripped harder into your sides as he positioned you beneath him. 

            Just as you opened your mouth to protest his teeth sank into the sweet spot on your neck. Arching your back trying to feel more of him, you whined against him. His metal arm came to rest against your hips keeping them in place as he slithered from you. He opened the blinds, so moonlight flooded into the bedroom. 

            “I want to see my meal before I eat it,” he smirked from his position by the window. The moonlight streaming showed how blown his pupils were, and if you had a mirror, you would assume yours would be the same. He moved ever so slowly towards you, the grin of a predator on his lips. His hands came to rest on the edge of your shirt.

            “I’ve wondered how pliant you would be underneath me. How easily you would listen to every word I say” his hands began making quick work of your shirt exposing your bare breast to him. Your body shines blue underneath the moonlight.

            “Beautiful,” he murmured more to himself than to you, but your body still keened at the praise. His hands explored the newly visible skin. You felt his warm tongue start to explore your right breast, giving little sucks and bites as he avoided your nipple. His metal hand doing the same motions on your left side. 

            “Bucky, please…” Your whines and groans were pathetic as you urged him to touch your most sensitive spots. Something about your feeble attempts at persuading him must’ve stirred something in him because he began to attack your breast with a new fervor. Your moans became even louder as he sucked and nipped at your budding nipples. His metal hand left your breast and steadied himself. His human one makes quick work to slide into your underwear. 

            “Someone’s so needy,” he tsked against your skin. His fingers explored the wetness found there. It was too much. Your head felt heavy and light at the same time. All sense of morality floated out of your head as you reached for his shirt. “Please” became your mantra as he continued to rile up your already supple body. You were pleading for this man you had run from earlier to hurry up and fuck you. 

            He removed his shirt and your underwear, and you sighed thinking you had finally gotten to the part where he slides into you. Bucky had other ideas as he pulled your cunt closer to his face. He let out an exploratory lick that had your body pressing against him further. He found a motion that you liked as he let himself feast. Your moans bounced off the wall fueling him further. He began to devour you.

            “You taste so sweet” The vibration made your body bend further into him. Seeing this as a pleasant sign he sweeps his finger against your aching hole, watching as your eyes widen in anticipation. He slides it in, and you finally submit to him fully. Knowing that this man could do anything he wanted to you, and you would willingly take it. 

            He ate you like he needed you to orgasm. Like it was the sole purpose, he was placed onto this Earth. Your head began spinning. The heat begins building up deep in your core. You clenched around his skilled fingers and felt yourself tumble off the ledge letting out a string of words all broken and all ending in Bucky’s name. Your body shook as he continued through your orgasm until you were spent. 

            Doe eyes met Bucky’s gaze as you finally regained some sense. You reached for him, hands grazing his bare chest as you came down. Bucky simply separated himself from you, moving towards the doorway. 

            “Hope you’re warm now, little dove.” His smirk returned to his face as he left you and returned to the couch.

[crazyunsexycool]

A Love as Sweet as Honey

Chapter 2

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

word count: 3.4K

Warning: mentions of blood, migraine, little bit of fluff I guess, a little bit of Charlotte, Also a new character is added... 👀

A/N: Well look who decided to finish writing chapter 2 of ALASAH. This is just a filler chapter. It's kind of to show how Steve and Honey kind of look out for each other. Also this is kind of self-indulgent since I've been getting a bunch of migraines lately... lol Anyways, the next chapter is where it's at.

Series Masterlist

You stood by as the jet landed. The bright sunlight had you squinting as you finished getting your gear on. To your right is Mrs. B with a few more people that worked in the medbay. She was supposed to be on maternity leave but the mission had been harder than the team had imagined and they would need all hands on deck. 

“You call me if you need anything.” She says as she moves to stand by you. She was always looking out for you. At first you thought it was just because you were friends with Steve but it was more than that. Maybe she could sense that you didn’t really have anyone you could count on. And although you weren’t sure how to show her you appreciated it you hoped she knew you did.

“I’ll be fine.” 

“I know you will but if you need anything, call me.”

“I will, mom.” You rolled your eyes playfully but Mrs. B smiled proudly. 

The rear cargo door opens and some agents are moving stretchers down the ramp. Mrs. B and her team rush over and begin to work. You give them a few minutes before grabbing your bag and heading into the jet to do your part. At the ramp Sam exits and he stops in front of you.

“Steve’s still in there.” He informs you.

“Is something wrong?” 

“Some civilians and agents were hurt pretty badly. The mission failed and he’s beating himself up over it. You might want to give him a minute before going in there to get that case Doc.”

“Thanks for the heads up.” 

Sam gives you a quick nod before heading into the compound. You take a deep breath and look back at the jet. While you were very understanding of needing space and time away from people, you didn’t think that this was good for Steve. So after another minute of thinking through how you would approach him, you decided to just go in and do your job. 

The overhead lights are dimmed. The floor is littered with gauze, packaging and ripped uniforms. There’s caked up dirt and blood too. You try to ignore it and step over it as best as you can until you’re closer to the front of the jet. A lone figure sat in the dark. All slumped shoulders and head hanging low. Even as you sat next to him, Steve didn’t move. 

“I heard about the mission I-“ 

“Please don’t say that it wasn’t my fault or that it was out of my control.” He murmurs. He’s completely defeated. 

“I was going to say that I can’t imagine what you must be feeling. I think that you did your best.” 

“People got hurt.” He replies with a clenched jaw.

“But they didn’t die.”

“But they could have.” 

“And you got them to the people that could save their lives. Do you feel like you could have done more?” You tilt your head to look at him better.

“I could have done things differently.” 

“I said more.” 

Steve sighs as he runs a hand over his face and then shakes his head. “I don’t know that I could have.” 

“Then you did your best. Sometimes your best isn’t good enough but you can’t blame yourself for it. You’ll kick ass next time.” 

Steve nods but you can tell he doesn’t believe it.

You get up and head toward the chamber where hazardous materials are stored to grab the briefcase you came for. The whole reason for the mission in the first place. There’s some shuffling behind you and then laughter from Steve so you turn to find out what’s so funny. 

“What?” 

“You look like a rubber duck with that thing on.” 

You looked down at your yellow hazmat suit. There was a hood you had covering your hair, gloves, a face mask and disposable shoe covers.

“I’m going to remember you called me a duck.” You smile as Steve huffs another laugh. 

“Charlotte calls you a duck all the time.” 

“That’s between us girls.” You say before turning back to the job at hand.

Before you can remove the briefcase you have to check for any leaks so you grab a few things out of the bag you had with you. After doing a few preliminary tests you deem it safe to move so you put everything back and grab the briefcase. 

“C’mon, let’s get out of here.” You tell Steve. 

“I’ll be out in a minute.��� 

“Nope. You’re leaving now. You can mope in your apartment but I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to stay here.” 

“I promise I’ll be out in a few minutes.” 

You shake your head. “Just go to your apartment. I’ll call Mrs. B.” 

“She doesn’t scare me.” 

“Fine, I'll bring in the big guns. I’ll call Charlotte and Henry.” 

“You wouldn’t.” Steve gasps.

“Try me.” You raise your brows. “Now grab your shit and let's go. I have samples to run.”

“Fine.” Steve grabs his shield and bag and follows you out of the jet. 

You walk in silence together until you get to the elevators. 

“I’ll see you later ok?” 

“You got something new to work on, I don’t think I’ll see you for at least three days.” Steve smirks. 

“I’ll check in with you at some point. You really did your best.” 

Steve nods but looks a bit dejected. 

“Go get some rest.” You say as you enter the elevator and Steve heads down the hall to the living quarters. 

The pain started slowly. At first you thought it was just stiffness in your neck from being in the same position for so long. But then the sounds of the lab and the conversations were too loud. The light was too bright. You were blinking slowly as you tried to focus on something around you. It wasn’t until the nausea hit that you knew you had a few minutes to clean up your station and save all the information you had before you needed to leave. You excused yourself with Bruce, who was looking at you with concern. He was kind enough to escort you to your apartment just to make sure you actually got there.

“Are you sure you’ll be ok?” He asks as you stop in front of your door.

“I’ll be fine.” 

“I can get someone from the medbay come up here.” 

“No, I'm good. I’m sure with some sleep this migraine will go away.” You say quietly.  

“Well you don’t have to come in tomorrow. Rest up and let me know if you need anything.” 

“Thanks Bruce.” You say before heading inside. 

****

Steve is just closing the door to his apartment when Mrs. B turns the corner. She has her medic bag with her and instinctively Steve looks to your door.

“Mags, what's going on?” 

“Y/N asked me to come up. Said something about a headache.” She says while stopping in front of your door.

“Oh.” 

“I’ll let her know that you’re right here if she needs anything. I’m gonna go check on her.” 

“Ok.” 

****

After taking a nap and waking up feeling worse you did the only thing you could think of, called Mrs. B. If it weren’t because you were in such a weakened state you would’ve found more medicine for your headache. But you could barely get out of bed. 

“Y/N, it’s me. May I come in?” You heard Mrs. B call out softly. 

She was right outside your bedroom door so you just groaned in response. The door opens and the light from the living room fills the dark space you had created for yourself. You groan again and she closes the door. 

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” She whispers as she sits at the edge of your bed. 

“Mi-migraine. Vomit. So bad.” You say with slurred speech. 

“Do you get a lot of migraines?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Ok. I’m going to step out and check our records and I’ll be right back to help you. Are you allergic to any medication?” 

There was complete silence for a moment and you felt Mrs. B’s cool hands on your forehead and you sighed. It was so hard for you to think straight so it took you a minute to come up with an answer. 

“No.” 

“Ok, I’ll be right back.” There was some shuffling around and the sound annoyed you but then you felt something cool on your head. “It’s an ice pack, maybe it could soothe you a bit.” She whispered and got up. 

It felt like hours had passed as you laid there waiting for Mrs. B to come back. Really it was just a few minutes but the pain you were feeling was so overwhelming that you couldn’t keep track of anything. 

“Y/N, I’m going to give you something for the pain ok.” 

“Mhm.” Is the only acknowledgement you could give. 

She moved quickly and quietly next to you in order to give you something to ease this pain. After she was done, Mrs. B sat beside you and pushed your hair away from your face. A motherly gesture that at a different time would have startled you but you welcomed it at the moment. She stayed for a few more minutes before grabbing her things. 

“Y/N?” She calls your name softly.

“Mm?” 

“Steve is out in the hallway. He wanted to know if it would be ok if he came in to check on you.” 

This was so new to you. No one ever really worried about your well-being. Now there were two people that were looking after you. It was nice but also hard for you to accept the help and attention. You only called Mrs. B because you knew that as a medical professional she wouldn’t deny helping you and out of everyone in the medbay you only felt comfortable with her coming into your apartment. Steve was something else entirely. Yes you lived across from him and you even had him over for a movie night but you hadn’t really unpacked then. If he came in now it would be like he could really see all of you. But at the moment you also needed help or the reassurance that someone would come in to see if you were still alive.

“Ok.” You barely manage to say.

“Alright I’ll let him know but you can still have Friday call me if you need me.”

“Thanks.” You say while turning away from her and closing your eyes again. 

****

“Y/N? Hey, can you hear me?” The words were rushed and panicked. “C’mon open your eyes. Y/N open your eyes.” 

You groaned in response. The pain you felt was horrible. You were nauseous too. A nice cool feeling comes over your forehead and you lean into it. 

“Y/N, can you hear me?” 

It was Steve. A panicked, worried Steve was talking to you but you felt like you were underwater so you only hummed. 

“I’m going to take you to the medbay.” He whispers as you’re lifted up in his strong arms. You lean into his chest and fall back into unconsciousness.

You were groggy and confused when you finally woke up. Your body ached and you still felt that dull pounding in your head from the overpowering migraine. The more alert you became the more you realized you weren’t in your room or your apartment. 

“Y/N?” Asked a sleepy voice from beside you. 

“Steve?” You rasp out. 

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Like my head got hit with a sledgehammer.” You groan. “Where am I?”

“I had to bring you to the medbay, I came in to check in on you and found you passed out on your bathroom floor.” 

You just stared at Steve for a moment. “I-I don’t remember getting out of bed.”

“It’s ok. You were really out of it. The doctors said your migraine was really bad.”

“I haven’t had one this bad in a long time.” 

Steve cups your cheek, running his thumb back and forth. You lean into the touch and close your eyes, completely missing the worry in Steve’s eyes. Physical contact wasn’t something either of you did normally but it was nice to feel his warmth. Truth be told you craved being closer to Steve all the time.

“You know Charlotte and Henry came by to see you.” He says after a moment making you open your eyes. “They left their teddy bears because it would make you feel better. Henry even picked some flowers for you.” 

You look down to find pink and orange bears holding paws laying on your lap. A small bouquet of wildflowers is in a cup full of water. It makes you smile. “They’re sweet.” 

“They were very worried about you, so we’re a few other people. But let me call the nurse and then I’ll let them know you’re ok.” 

A nurse walks in a few minutes later. She checks your vitals, asks a few questions and leaves again. The small interaction drains you again. Steve takes a seat again as you watch him through hooded eyes. 

“You know you don’t have to stay right?” You whisper. 

“I know. I want to.” He replies softly with a smile. “Get some rest and I’ll be right here if you need anything.” 

It had been a few days since you had woken up in the medbay. Since then Steve and Mrs. B had both been checking up on you regularly. Mrs. B making sure you were taking enough breaks and drinking plenty of water. It still felt odd to you, to have people that genuinely cared for you. There was no motive behind them coming to see you. 

You’d been around them for almost two years already and you still felt like an outsider. Their concern was genuine but you didn’t know how to react to it. You wanted to do something nice for Mrs. B and then something for Steve. 

“Hey.” Bruce startled you out of your thoughts. “I’m about to head down, walk with me?” 

“Sure.” You grab your tablet and head out with Bruce. 

He was going on a mission, a rare thing these days, and wanted to go over a few projects. This is what you were hired to do. So all the way from your office down to the jet he rattled off what he needed done and you made notes and asked questions. Bruce said a quick goodbye before walking towards the jet. 

“Hey,” you walk up to Steve who was looking at his own tablet. “Ready for your mission?” 

“I hope so.” 

“You’ll be fine. Remember you can only do your best. Don’t be reckless, I need you here.” 

Steve smiles, his cheeks flushing a little. 

At the other end of the hangar Bucky is giving his family kisses. Next to him is a blonde woman. When she sees Steve she starts walking his way, a smile on her lips. 

“Steve, how have you been?” 

“Good. How have you been Sharon?” Steve nods at her. 

“Good. Glad to finally have a more permanent residence.” Sharon says while crossing her arms over her chest. “This mission is going to be a hard one.” 

“You’re going on this mission?” 

“Yeah, didn’t Fury tell you? I’m starting here today. I’m the official liaison between the Avengers and the CIA.” 

You silently listen and look between them, unsure if something is happening. It feels like it is and you don’t like it at all. 

“This is doctor Y/N Y/L/N. She works with Bruce, Y/N this is Sharon Carter.” Steve introduces you. 

“So you’re the one who stole my apartment across from this one.” Sharon lightly smacks Steve’s chest. “If you didn’t want to be my neighbor again you could’ve just said that, Steve.” She chuckles. 

You’re annoyed by her instantly and you can’t hide the expression that says as much. It’s like she was trying too hard. Maybe you just didn’t want to share Steve’s attention. This friendship between Steve and Sharon didn’t feel like his friendship with Mrs. B. There was some underlying tension between the two people in front of you. 

“Yeah well, last time I thought you were a nurse. A CIA agent sounds more dangerous to have as a neighbor. Besides, Y/N here keeps me on my toes.” 

“Oh well,” Sharon looks between the two of you, trying to decipher what kind of relationship you have. “If you want a fun neighbor, let me know.” 

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, getting the attention of both of them. While Steve seemed to have been caught off guard by Sharon’s comment overall, she seemed taken aback at your small reaction. 

“Have a safe mission.” You mutter before turning and heading back inside. 

“Duckie!” Lottie yelled across the hangar. “Wait for me.” She ran and stopped beside Steve to give him a hug and say a quick goodbye. 

“Don’t I get a goodbye?” 

Lottie who had been halfway to you turned, scowled in Sharon’s direction and shook her head. “No.” 

“Charlotte.” Mrs. B called out. “That’s not nice. Don’t be rude to Sharon.” 

“Bye.” Lottie says, the one word dripping with annoyance, and turns to run to you. “Can I be your ‘ssistant today?” She asks sweetly. You tried not to laugh at the quick shift in her mood.

“Sure, I could use all the help I can get.” 

“Ok. I’ll be the best ‘ssistant.” Lottie takes your hand and pulls you towards the entrance of the building. 

“Did I do something to piss her off?” 

Mrs. B joins Steve and Sharon and shakes her head. 

“At least not yet.” Steve quips, causing both women to look at him. “Her visions.” He reminds them both. 

“Still, I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” Sharon waves off the concern. “We should get going though, right?” 

“Yeah. I’ll see you later Mags. Bye Peanut.” 

“Be safe.” Mrs. B calls out as Sharon and Steve head to the yet. 

You were about to close the door of your apartment behind you when the sound of tired footsteps echoed in the hallway. Pulling the door open just a bit you see Steve making his way towards his own apartment. He’s so tired he doesn’t even notice you stepping out of your apartment. 

“Hey.” You greet him.

He turns and gives you a tired smile.

“How did it go?” 

“The mission was a success. I did my best.” 

“That’s all that matters.” You smile. “I won’t keep you, you must be exhausted.” 

“I think I could sleep for days.” Steve blinks owlishly at you.

“Well fortunately your neighbor is boring and won’t keep you up.” 

Steve grimaced at the memory of Sharon’s comment a few days prior. He didn’t think you were boring at all. In all honesty he was glad you were living across the hall from him. Steve found some sort of comfort in having you close. 

“I don’t think you’re boring. I’m glad you’re my neighbor.” 

“Maybe I’ll make you regret it.” You quip making Steve huff a laugh. “Anyways, go get some rest.”

“Yes ma’am.” 

Steve turns and starts opening the door before you call him.

“Would it be ok if I check in on you?” 

He gives you a tired smile but nods. “See, you’re the best neighbor.” 

You watch him disappear into his apartment before closing the door behind you. Now you get to repay Steve for having been so caring when you got sick. No one had ever cared about you as much as he had in that moment. Even when he was busy with reports and training he always made sure to check in on you. 

So you make sure he does in fact sleep as much as he needs. Although you don’t cook you’ve learned what he likes and make sure his fridge is stocked. When Sharon inevitably shows up knocking on his door you’re more than happy to send her away without her getting to flirt with Steve. The thought alone makes you irrationally angry because you know that Steve can be with whoever he wants to. When Sharon turns back around to see if you’re still standing in the hallway you send her the fakest smile you can muster. 

It was nice, having someone take care of you and you being able to return the favor. You felt like something was shifting in your friendship with Steve. And even though you weren’t sure what it was you would welcome it with open arms. Because being around Steve made you feel safe and cared for and you’d dare to say even loved. 

Ch. 3

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@angywritesstuff 

@seitmai

@writing-for-marvel

@goldylions 

@almosttoopizza 

@littleseasiren 

@pono-pura-vida

@talesofadragon

@midnightramyeoncravings

@bunnygirlwriter876

@pandaxnieenke

@kandis-mom

@hisredheadedgoddess28

@braveclementine

@otterlycanadian

Series taglist:

@ozwriterchick

@nekoannie-chan

@5upersoldiers1xt

@buckystevelove

@pumpkin-babydoll

@haruvalentine4321

@rebeccapineapple

@ilovetaquitosmmmm

@capswife

@spikeluv84

@vicmc624

[docgold13]

Heroes & Villains The DC Animated Universe - Paper Cut-Out Portraits and Profiles

Elseworlds Addendum - The Doom Patrol

Un unconventional band of heroes, The Doom Patrol were composed of individuals the world often saw as freaks and misfits.  Each had been the victim of strange and tragic happenstance, drastically altering their lives as well as bestowing them fantastic powers.  

The renown scientist, Niles ‘The Chief’ Caulder sought out these outcasts and offered them a purpose, a means to grasp their misfortunes and use it in the service of battling evil.  

The original team was composed of three heroes, Elesti-Girl, Robot Man and Negative Man.  Elasi-Girl was Rita Farr, a starlet of the silver screen who gained size-altering powers after exposure to a strange mutagenic substance.  Robot Man was Cliff Steel, a celebrated race-car driver whose body was destroyed in a terrible accident.  Caulder was able to save Cliff’s brain and transplanted it into a powerful and sophisticated android body.  Finally, Negative Man was Larry Trainer, an air force pilot whose jet passed through a bizarre cloud of ‘negative energy.’  Exposure to this energy caused Trainer’s body to become radioactive, forcing him to wear special treated bandages to protect those around him.  It additionally enabled him to project a negative energy construct of himself, a shadowy being that possessed high speed flight, enhanced strength and durability.  

The trio were later joined by Steve Dayton, a successful businessman and inventor who created a special helmet that augmented his intellectual faculties.  He took on the alias of Mento to become a member of the Doom Patrol after falling in love with Rita Farr.  The two married and went on to adopt Garfield Logan, an orphaned youngster who possessed the ability to transform into various animals.  As Beast Boy, Garfield also joined the Doom Patrol.  The relationship between Rita and Steve soured and Mento ultimately left the team.  

In a final mission, The Doom Patrol chose to sacrifice themselves in order to save a small island inhabited by innocent civilians.  Beast Boy was the sole survivor having not been on the mission.  Orphaned once again, he went on to find a new family when he became a member of the Teen Titans.  Years later, it was revealed that Robot Man had survived as well and his android body was repaired.  

Although The Doom  Patrol never appeared in the DCAU, they did feature in episodes of the fifth season of Teen Titans.  The Doom Patrol first appeared in the 80th issue of the comic book, ‘My Greatest Adventure’ released in June and 1963.

[mochinek0]

Daminette December 2023:30-Save Some for Me

Many people of the Justice League were summoned for a mission. Some were hiding in the shadows, others were stuck as civilians. Everything was going fine in the mission until Damian Wayne was suddenly thrown into building. That was the day he learned his two sunshine would go to hell for him.

Damian lay aginst the building. His vision was foggy, at best.

'Concussion. Labored breathing; likely a broken rib or two.'

He hadn't noticed people had started running away and were screaming. He hadn't even noticed Jon and Marinette calling his name until they got to his side.

'Hearing impairment.'

"Don't touch him!" Jon shouted, "He has some broken bones and some bad bruising."

"Concussion. Hearing impairment. Labored breathing." Damian whispered out, "Tired."

" Stay awake. I'll get a medic as fast as I can." Jon remarked, "I'm staying with you. I'll protect you from any more damage."

'That's good. His body can shield me from anymore debris or if there's any bullets.'

Damian felt wet drops fall on him.

'Rain?'

It wasn't until he heard the sob that he realized it was Marinette.

"Angel. I will be fine." he spoke.

He saw her hand turn into a fist and drop her precious earrings into her purse. She shoved it into Jon's arm.

"Marinette?" Jon asked.

He saw Marinette place a small ring on her hand.

"Claws out." she snarled.

Before his eyes, his angel looked like a small version of Selina in her CatWoman outfit. Her hair had turned jet black and was tied in a long braid down to her ankles. Her suit was now black. She was wearing thigh high heels with a green sash wrapped around her waist. Her hands had turned claws. She no wore a black domino mask the looked like his own robin mask and upon her head, were a pair of cat ear, trimmed with green. Then, she was gone.

"You might want to make sure Angel doesn’t kill anyone." Damian spoke, before passing out with a smile.

Jon turned to see Marinette lunging at people and blood splattering everywhere. It reminded him of watching his best friend train with his swords.

'Oh, shit! There's two of them!'

Jon quickly rushed away and grabbed ahold of her, locking her arms. She still managed to move with him holding her.

'I was wrong. She's scarier!'

The Bats quickly rounded everyone up as the rest of the Justice League avoided Ladybug, now turned Cat. She was hissing and clawing, trying to get away from Superboy. He had scratches on him from holding her back and was bleeding. Superman quickly rushed over and knocked her out. Superboy huffed and handed her over to Batman.

"Your son's girlfriend is just as deadly as he is." he huffed.

Plagg released himself from the ring.

"Do you have any cheese?" he questioned.

"What?" replied Superman.

"Another alien?" asked Green Lantern.

"Rude." Plagg answered, "I am the God of Destruction."

"Yep. That fits the bill." Red Hood responded, "Demon Spawn dating a person of destruction."

"Oh, you have it all wrong." Plagg declared "She only used me because she was pissed and you should be grateful, she did."

"She killed ten people." Batman spoke.

The kwami shrugged, "Could have been worse."

"How?" asked Nightwing.

"She could have been weilding her usual, my other half: Tikki, the Goddess of Creation. She created the universe." Plagg explained, enthusiastically, "When she gets pissed, she creates weapons of mass destruction. Instead of ten people, it could have been half the planet."

All the heroes looked at Marinette unconscious in Batman's arms.

"Who's the bad one now?" Plagg smirked, "At least she didn't used Kalki. Could have just teleported them over a volcano or a pit of death."

"So, do you have cheese?" Plagg asked again.

Jon was quick to warn the medical team about Damian's injuries and the extent of them, as he was placed on a stretcher.

"Ah, Loverboy." Plagg declared.

The Kwami of Destruction tapped on the downed Robin and let the green aura wash over him.

"Is that-?" Tim shouted.

"My magic." Plagg stated, absorbing it, "Seems he has a lot of it in him. Not as goo as cheese, but it helps. I'll talk to the bug and she can give my ring to him, for awhile. I should be able to absorb the rest. Same with Helmet Head."

"Really?" questioned Red Hood."

Plagg nodded, "Yep."

"Are you perhaps talking about the Lazarus Pits magic?" Batman asked.

"I don’t know what you people call it now, but that is our magic." Plagg explained, "Someone wished for it so we made it. It's why she works so hard to makes sure it doesn’t happen."

Red Hood shook his head, "They're a perfect match."

"Huh?" asked Wonder Woman.

"Demon Spawn and his 'Angel'. We all know if Batsy, here, wasn't around, he'd be leaving Gotham painted red. Hid girlfriend is the same way, if he gets hurt. You can't honestly tell me if she got hurt, he'd go back to being an assassin." he explained.

The Justice League loked between the unconcious couple.

"I say it's Batman's problem, now." Green Lantern stated, "His kid and future daughter-in-law."

TAGLIST: @maribat-calendar-events@animeweebgirl@a-star-with-a-human-name@meme991001@vixen-uchiha@abrx2002@alysrose-starchild@fandom-trapped-03@dood-space@moonlightstar64@saltymiraculer@marveldcedits20@09shell-sea09@icerosecrystal@animegirlweeb@insane-fangirl-of-everything@blueblossombliss@nickristus-dreamer@megawhitleycalderonpaganus@missmadwoman@meira-3919@princessdaisysolosyourfaves@blep-23@fangirlingfanatic@darkhinauniverse@ravenr22@im-a-satanic-ritual@ravennm84@bianca-hooks123@a-slytherinish-gryffindor@starling218

[ythankucaptainmccoy]

The Cowgirl and The Aviator Ch15

Next Chapter! WARNINGS: Military Inaccuracies, Near Death Experience, Smut (The Smuttiest Smut), Vibrators, Alluding to Squirting, P in V (Wrap It Before You Tap It), Teasing and Fluff!

If Jake had been team leader before he had met you he wouldn’t care about his team as much as he does now. The mission was going to plan as they flew the terrain they had been training for. Rooster was his wingman, Nat and Bob dagger three and Payback and Fanboy dagger four. It was a night mission and to any civilian wouldn’t seem very hard, but it wasn’t the target that was the problem. The problem was hoping not to get into a dog fight if at all possible. 

He looked down to your photo praying that he gets to come back with the other members of the squad. You were asleep waiting for your shift at the Hard Deck when you woke in a cold sweat screaming. You’re hands shooting to Jake’s side of the bed calling for him. When you couldn’t feel him there you started yelling for him in the apartment. Then in your panic you realize he was gone on a mission and that sent you spiraling even more.

You didn’t have anyone to call as you tried to calm down. It was just a dream you kept telling yourself as you pushed the nightmare away. Jake was going to be fine and the team was going to come back safe. You couldn’t go back to sleep as you clean to keep yourself busy. As you stand at the sink a storm is rolling in and you can see the rough waves outside. It unsettles you even more as you do the dishes from the night before.

Jake and the team have a clean run as they head back for the carrier. On approach to the carrier Jake realizes that his tail hook is malfunctioning. “Hangman here I have a malfunctioning tail hook and low on fuel”, Jake radio’s in. “Acknowledged Hangman we will land the others first then raise the net for you”, he’s told. He circles as they raise the barricade for him. He takes a deep breath and grabs your picture to put in his pocket. 

His wheels hit the deck wrong as he bounces only catching the back wheels as he is headed for the edge. He goes over as his heart drops, but the jet jerks back causing his shoulders to jerk against the harness. It knocks the breath out of him, but he powers everything off as all he can see is the waves lapping at the ship. The creaking of the back two wheels tells him he needs to get out as soon as possible. He opens the cockpit as they are getting a man harnessed to come get him.

The jet creaks again and Jake knows he has a split second decision to make. The carrier had stopped a while ago. He puts his hand over his pocket with your picture and jumps. When he hits the water it’s freezing and when he surfaces he can hear the jet let go. It crashes too close and as it sinks he can feel it trying to suck him down. He can hear the yells of man overboard. Rooster hears the call of “OSCAR OSCAR OSCAR” go out and he panics as the others race to the edge to see Hangman's jet sinking.

Jake swims for his life as he gets clear of the wreckage. They send out the helicopter to search as Rooster can only think of you standing over a casket just like his mother did for his father. It takes him to his knees as Phoenix tries to shake him out of it. Jake feels like he has been in the water forever as the helicopter searches with the searchlight. He knows they won’t be able to hear him over the rotors, but soon enough they spot him. 

They send a man down to harness him in and lift him into the helicopter. Rooster only comes around when he hears that they have retrieved him. By the time the helicopter lands they immediately take him to the infirmary. Jake can’t remember the last time he felt so cold as they helped him strip out of all of his wet clothes. They take protocol and get him dry clothes as they tend to him. He must have inhaled water because he continues to cough. They get him squared away and tell him they are keeping him for monitoring. 

Maverick is the first to come to check on him. The debriefing he is told can wait until he has rested and they know he will be okay. He still feels cold even with the extra blankets as he drifts off into sleep shivering. His mind goes to you and how you would be curled up beside him if you were here. He misses you more than ever at this moment knowing that today could have been his last. He knows you would be fretting over him like he had with you when you were in the hospital. He coughs a little, but eventually gets some sleep. 

You go to work and Penny keeps an eye on you as you seem off. “(Y/N) are you alright?”, Penny asks. “I don’t know, I woke up after a bad dream and I haven’t been able to shake it. The storms today probably aren’t helping”, you reply. “Well let me know if you need a break I know how it feels when your man is away on a carrier”, she tells you. “Thanks Penny”, you reply. The shift goes by slowly as the storms get worse. When your break comes Penny comes running to you.

“(Y/N) you need to come with me right now”, she tells you. She brings you to her office where her laptop sits and Maverick is on the screen. You look at Penny as she offers you the chair sitting in front of it. That feeling you had worsens and then you go numb as Mav waits for you to sit down. Once you sit down Penny grabs another chair and sits beside you. “(Y/N) I’m not really supposed to be doing this on my video call, but I thought you should know there was an accident”, Mav says. 

“Jake”, you whisper. “(Y/N), his jet's tailhook malfunctioned and the landing was bad. He went over the deck and into the water. He is safe onboard now, but the doctors are monitoring him. Their main concern was hypothermia and they believe he may have inhaled some water. I’ll continue to give updates to Penny when I can alright”, Mav relays. “So does this mean you all will be coming home early?”, you question. “No (Y/N), but I’ll keep you updated. I have to go, my times up”, he tells you. “Thank you Mav”, you reply. He nods as the call screen goes off, and Penny watches you carefully.

“Thanks for coming to get me. I’m gonna’ go back to work”, you tell her. You feel weightless as you stand up and you don’t even get a step towards the door when you go to your knees as the room spins. “(Y/N) are you alright sweetheart?”, Penny asks. “I could have lost him”, you whisper. She knows you're in shock as she helps you to sit back down in a chair and tells one of the other staff members to get you some water. You kept telling yourself that he was okay, but you wanted to see proof. 

Eventually you collect yourself to finish out your shift and Penny tells you to stay over with her and Amelia. It was a good decision as the storm gets bad and you can hear it getting even worse. The howling wind and thunder get to a point where the lights go out. Penny and Amelia help you settle in for the night as you take the couch. You just keep thinking about Jake and praying that he is okay as you fall into a fitful sleep.

You don’t hear from Mav for another two weeks. He tells you Jake caught pneumonia and that they are treating him for it. Then four weeks until Mav can call again and tell you Jake is alright, but that the pneumonia took a toll on him, but he was ready to fly again. You knew what that meant and you continued to pray that he came home safe and sound. You get a letter back from Jake telling you he is feeling better and not to worry that Bradley has been keeping a close eye on him ever since the accident. 

You send a letter back telling him to stay safe and next time he better tell you when something happens. When Jake gets that letter he laughs as he tells the squad what you had said. Also tucked in the envelope was a picture and he pulls it out and immediately puts it back into the envelope. “Well I’m heading off to bed”, he tells the group. Rooster quirks an eyebrow as Jake hurries back to his bunk. 

When he pulled out the photo it was you in his bed, hair spread out like a halo around you and dressed in a green lace teddy. The smirk told him everything he needed to know and what really topped the cake was in that smirk you had one of his dog tags between your teeth. He wished he could be there in person to see you like that, but his imagination would have to do. He wasn’t proud of jacking off to your picture, but it was a release he didn’t realize he needed. 

He swore to himself that when he got back he was going to rock your world. Every once in a while he would have a coughing fit, but he was getting better every day. He was counting down the days that he could come back home to you. A couple more times in the air and then they would all be on their way home. You on the other hand looked like a wreck as Penny could tell you weren’t getting enough sleep. 

Nights spent at the Hard Deck helped with your anxiety of waiting for Jake to return. A call came in to the Hard Deck that they would be getting back a week late due to some unforeseen issues. Penny could tell it was eating at you, but you held strong as Mav was able to tell you that Jake was back to one hundred percent. “Penny, I think we should plan a welcome back party”, you say. “I think that would do everyone some good”, she responds. The next week is making the Hard Deck look more festive than it ever has with a banner that reads ‘WELCOME BACK DAGGER SQUAD’. 

When pick up day came around you were first at the pick up point. You paced for what felt like forever when the door opened and the Dagger Squad exited. You spotted Jake right away and took off at a sprint. Jake didn’t have time to react as you launched yourself at him. He dropped his duffle bag and caught you as your shoulders shook. He knew you were crying as he tried to comfort you. “Darlin’ I’m alright. I’m here baby, I’m here”, he soothed. 

You pulled back giving him a serious look and Rooster smirked at him already knowing what’s coming. “If you ever pull some crazy shit like that again I’ll kill you”, you scolded. Jake looked taken aback but couldn’t stop from smiling. You looked beautiful even when you were angry as he swooped in for a kiss. Your anger quickly melting as he continued to kiss you breathless. “Let’s go home darlin’ this outfit needs washing”, he said, winking at you.

“Yes sir”, you replied. You walked with him back to the truck stealing kisses as you went. When he pulled into the apartment parking lot you went straight inside while he got his stuff. When he entered the apartment there you stood in a scanty sailor uniform with his dog tags hanging between your breasts. “Lieutenant Seresin sir. Welcome home”, you say in a sultry tone. Jake can already feel his cock hardening at the sight of you. 

He wastes no time in giving orders for you to go to the bedroom and wait for him. You do as you’re told as Jake goes to the kitchen filling a pitcher of water and bringing a glass with him. When he enters you stand at attention at the end of the bed. “On your knees”, Jake says. You immediately go to your knees as he places the pitcher and glass on the bedside table. You watch as he comes to stand in front of you. He looks damn good in his khaki uniform as he admires you.

He unzips his fly and pulls himself out of his boxers. You note that he is hard as a rock and he gives you the nod to continue. You automatically wrap your lips around his head as he groans deep and loud. “Darlin’ I’ve missed you”, he hums. You take him deeper at his admission until you gag. One hand comes back to wrap around your hair guiding you on his shaft. “That’s it. Fuck”, Jake hisses. He continues for a couple more minutes until he pulls you off. 

He pulls you back up to your feet ordering you to strip, but to keep the tags on. You do as he commands then watch as he admires the view. “Get on the bed all fours”, Jake barks. You move as if your life depends on it as he takes up position behind you. He swipes his fingers through your folds and whistles. “You’re so wet already”, he hums. “Only for you Lieutenant”, you reply. You wiggle your hips to urge him to do something and it earns you a slap to your ass.

You jump with a small shout as Jake checks in with you. You promise him that you’re fine, that you just weren’t expecting it. “Stay still and obey my orders or there will be consequences. Am I understood?”, he asks. “Yes”, you speak. Another slap to your ass as Jake says, “Yes what”. “Yes Lieutenant Seresin sir!”, you sound off. “That’s right”, he tells you. He soothes your ass then skirted down to your pussy where he thrusts two fingers into you. 

You moan as he starts curling his fingers and the closer you get the weaker your arms seem to get. You lay your head down on the bed and it earns you another slap. “Up on all fours darlin”, he drawls. You do as told and Jake speeds up his ministrations as you mewl as you're about to fall over the edge. “Jake I’m gonna…”, you don’t get to finish as you shudder through your orgasm. When you come back around Jake is rifling through your underwear drawer and pulls out your vibrator. 

“Alright on your back”, he tells you. You shakily lie on your back as Jake pulls you to the edge of the bed. You watch him in his uniform as he drags his cock through your folds. You moan each time he bumps your clit and he smirks as you whine for him to put it in already. “What do you say?”, he asks. “Please Lieutenant”, you whine. Jake smiles but it’s soon wiped away when he pushes all the way into you.  He stays like that for a moment then when he opens his eyes to look into yours your smile has him melting. 

He leans down to kiss you as he starts to thrust into you. You moan into his mouth until he pulls away to get better leverage as he starts a brutal pace. The noises coming from you spur him on as he grabs the vibrator. As soon as it touches your clit you fall over the edge to another orgasm. He is right behind you as a couple thrusts later he cums hard. His moans are heavenly and you want more. He pulls out of you to shed all of his clothes as you notice he is getting hard again. 

Once he is naked he goes to take off his dog tags when you hook your finger into them and pull him down for another kiss. He goes willingly as he enters you again. You can’t seem to get enough of each other as he starts up a slow pace and punctuating each thrust. You go along with his movements as each kiss seems longer and more sincere. “I missed you”, he whispers. “I did too. When Mav told me what happened I thought I would never see you again”, you say. He pulls back to look into your eyes.

He can see the pain behind those eyes as he kisses your forehead. “Me too darlin’ I was so scared that I wasn’t going to make it back”, he admits. You pull him back to you to kiss him more, reveling in the fact he was alive and here with you. “We should go to the Hard Deck tonight”, you say. His next thrust pushes the air from your lungs. “Well we have some time to kill before it opens”, he smiles. 

“Well let’s make the most of it”, you gasp, as he thrusts again. He continues with a slow pace as he hikes your leg into the crook of his elbow. The new angle has you mewling as he hits parts of you that you didn’t know existed. Everything feels drawn out like this as if you're both savoring each other's company. He reaches for the vibrator he had placed on the bed earlier as you hear it start on its lowest setting. He places it onto your clit as he continues the slow thrust and grind.

It’s a slow burn low in your gut as you start to climb to the peak of your orgasm. “Jake”, you sigh. “That’s me”, he chuckles. You giggle until he turns the vibrator up a notch. It has you climbing to that peak faster. It hits you suddenly and out of left field as you clamp down with a moan. Jake hisses as he has to come to a stop, but doesn’t take the vibrator away. You start to try to push him away as it becomes too much.

He holds fast and starts up a pace that has you grabbing his biceps and digging your nails into his flesh. The next orgasm is slow and goes through your veins like lava as Jake swallows your moans with his kisses. Then he placed both legs over his shoulders and amped the vibrator to the max. You couldn’t do anything as tears came to your eyes as you tried to breathe. Jake noticed the tears and asked, “You okay? Do I need to stop”. You couldn’t speak as you shook your head no as you could feel him twitching more often now. 

“Feel so good Jake”, you cry out. “Darlin please tell me your close”, he pleads. “Yea”, you gasp. “Where”, he shudders. “I want you…to cum deep inside. Make me feel you when I’m at the Hard Deck”, you say. “Fuck Darlin’ you can’t say things like that when I’m this close”, he huffs. That gives you the bright idea to keep going. “You feel so good please cum inside me pleasepleaseplease”, you whimper. “Fuck”, Jake curses.

He’s almost there, but your orgasm barrels into you so hard that your body spasms. Jake curses as he feels the wetness coat him and that has him burying himself as deep as possible. He groans long and loud broken by little whimpers as he emptied himself into you. He turns the vibrator off and places it on the bedside table as your body trembles underneath him. “Jake”, you whisper. “Yea’ darlin?”, he replies. “That was amazing. You’re amazing”, you announce. 

You can feel his shoulders move with a breathless laugh as you finally come down from your high. Jake gently puts your legs on either side of his waist as he stays fully seated inside you. You give a couple experimental spasms around his cock. He hunches his back a little as he hiccups a groan. “Darlin’ I can’t too…Mphm”, he groans again as you grind a little. His hands grab your hips in a bruising grip as he goes in for another kiss to distract you. 

You both go a couple more rounds until you both have to get in the shower to get ready. When you arrive at the Hard Deck and walk in Jake understands why you wanted to come. The bar is decorated and has the welcome home banner above the piano. You hug Bradley and say hello to his girlfriend as Coyote comes over with his wife. Nat squeezes the life out of you when she sees you and Bob pulls you into a hug. You could tell Bob had more beers than normal because he normally wasn’t a hugger. 

“You look good Hangman”, Bradley says. “I am good Rooster. I’m very good”, he replies with a wink to you. You go red as Bradley raises an eyebrow until he spots something on your neck. “(Y/N) is that a brui… Nevermind”, Bradley states. You look confused until Nat tells you that your shirt is showing off a very noticeable hickey. You go red and try to cover it to no avail. “What’s the matter darlin’ they know we’re together”, Jake says. You go to retort but laugh when you realize Jake has a few on his neck as well.

You point them out, but Jake just pulls his shirt to show them off more. “I can’t believe you”, you laugh. You go to the bar to get a beer for Jake and yourself, but when you come back a woman that you know for certain knows Jake well by the way she runs her hand down his chest and says something to him. You watch as Nat slides up next to you and watches the scene. Jake shakes his head and you can’t tell what he says until he looks up to point you out. The woman says something back and seems upset as she looks at you then stomps away. 

“Wow I never thought I would see the day”, Nat says. “What?”, you ask. “Even when he was “dating” he never turned that girl away. I think you’ve changed him for the better”, Nat replies, taking a swig of her beer. When you bring the beer to Jake he makes a show of kissing you in front of everybody. You smile up at him then hand him his beer. “Love you darlin’ now how about a game of pool Rooster. Me and (Y/N) against you and your girlfriend”, Jake says. Bradley looks at his girlfriend as she nods. You get deemed to rack ‘em and while you’re bent over the pool table Jake leans over you. “Darlin’ keep lookin’ like this and we might have to go to the truck”, he grins. 

He slaps your ass as you finish up and you just shake your head. “You’re insatiable”, you tell him. “Only for you darlin’. Only for you”, he replies. You and Jake make a pretty great team as you win. You challenge Payback and Fanboy next as the jukebox plays ‘Slow Ride’. “I love this song”, Jake whispers in your ear. “Maybe I can ride you to it at some point”, you reply nonchalantly. “(Y/N)”, he groans in your ear. From his lap you can feel him getting hard underneath you. “Your turn”, Payback calls.

You kiss Jake and get off his lap to play as Jake readjusts himself before getting up. You and Jake end up winning that game too, but then challenge Phoenix and Bob. This proves a more challenging game, but only because Jake’s focus is on you and how you keep teasing him. The party lasts late into the night as Jake holds you close as Bradley takes over the piano after unplugging the jukebox. Jake for the first time ever joins in singing with the squad as you sing beside him.

[bekolxeram]

Long sigh......

I've heard that one of the most problematic bnf from the other side of the fandom claimed on Tiktok that Tommy wouldn't be part of the emergency landing rescue because "the controls (of a helicopter and a jet airliner) are different". I know I made a whole thing out of Tommy being a helicopter pilot instead of a fixed wing one. (I even made up a sunshiny airplane pilot ex boyfriend for Tommy, that was fun while it lasted) I have no idea how that bnf makes the logical leap that if Tommy isn't physically solo flying that plane, then he won't be involved at all. He's still a firefighter working with aircrafts at an airport. Unless the writers for some reason don't want Tommy to be in the episodes at all and pull the "not on duty" card, it would actually make less sense for him not to be there.

You know the drill. Don't read further if the discussion of Tommy not being able to fly everything bothers you. Block the tag #aviation realism if this whole topic doesn't interest you. I've hesitated a lot whether I should post my thoughts on this, but I guess this is the last chance to speculate, so here goes nothing. This is my specs for Tommy's involvement in the plane disaster.

First, I want to clarify something. I never said Tommy wasn't on the plane in 2x14. If by flying that plane, you mean actually taking the pilot seat, grabbing the yoke and executing risky low altitude maneuvers over mountainous terrain, no, I don't think Tommy can do it. The thing is, operating an aircraft that size requires a whole team, up to 5 in this case. I can totally imagine Tommy onboard sitting behind the pilots, helping out with navigation or precise drop coordination.

It's possible, even common to transition from flying rotary to fixed wing. JetBlue and Frontier both provide rotor transition programs to veterans, I've also seen a former Army Blackhawk pilot now flies the C-130 for the Coast Guard. Training ex-military pilots to become commercial airliner pilots has a higher success rate and takes less time than training a regular civilian. But you see the problem, none of them have been working as an active firefighter for the past 20 years.

Let's cut to the chase, I don't think Tommy will be landing that plane. In the original film, they decide transferring an Air Force pilot into the crippled 747 is the only option, because they think woman dumb Nancy can't handle it. Aviation technology has come a very long way since the 70s. This MythBusters episode from 2007 proves that not only is it possible for a complete novice to land a jet airliner by following verbal instructions, modern planes are so advanced that they can practically land themselves.

Sure, there probably will be some major damages to the systems needed for a normal landing (landing gear, flaps, brakes, thrust reversers) rendering an autoland impossible, because drama. But then you run into the problem of where the hell is the Air Force. Last season, the Coast Guard was busy rescuing other ships stranded at sea so some LAFD firefighters had to steal a helicopter to search for a cruise ship that didn't call for help. This time, a passenger airliner without its flight crew has a very real possibility of crashing in a densely populated urban area, the whole incident is also reported live on TV news, how can they explain the absence of the Air Force? Even assuming no commercial pilots in the area, including the ex-military ones are willing to do such a dangerous stunt and tether into the cockpit from outside, what's stopping the AIr Force pilots?

I don't think Tommy will be the one instructing Athena through the landing either. You run into basically the same problem. There are plenty of flight instructors of that exact model of aircraft out there better suited for the job. Flying a modern airliner, especially an Airbus, is more like flying a computer than an actual plane. You need someone with intimate knowledge of the plane's flight control systems in order to talk a non-pilot through operating it.

I know, I know, I'm being a killjoy right now, I'm worse than the Tommy haters and I should shut the fuck up, but even if we're going 100% realistic, referring to real life aviation incidents of this scale (Yes, I'm talking about JetBlue 292 again), Tommy is especially going to be part of the rescue.

Real!LAFD deployed a few helicopters in the JetBlue sideway nose gear incident to monitor the airfield and to help coordinate ground personnel/equipment, with a couple more standing by on the ground in case anyone on the plane needed emergency medevac.

I think the first officer might need a chopper ride if they want to save his femoral artery.

In the same incident, a local news copter also helped survey the landing gear issue from the outside. Tommy's helicopter can do that as well.

It's getting too long, but I have a few out-of-universe reasons for why Tommy will likely not play a super major part in this plane disaster arc, I'll just speed through them: Tommy's not a main character when screen time is already tight for the mains (I'd prefer to see him more in later Buck centric eps), he's already saved the day last season, I think production has blown all their budget on the airplane sets, the new trucks and the CGI bees already that they can't fit a helicopter in. (Let alone to replicate the original pilot transferal scene, it was a real stunt, they really got an AIr Force helicopter to dangle a stuntman in front of a flying 747. It was dangerous and hella expensive)

I actually hope Tommy would be working on the ground this time, I would kill to see him working with Buck and the 118, and not in the sky doing his own thing.

[buckyalpine]

Hello Shay ! I’ve been loving the civilian!reader fics, and I had an idea for a fic like that, but with a twist 🫣 reader is bucky’s sweet civilian gf, literal definition of sunshine, basically a lover, not a fighter. She’s a ballet teacher at a local studio (hint hint wink wink). And she lives with him and the team at the tower. One night, while the team is out on a mission, Hydra ambushes the tower and tries to take the reader hostage. And when they learn about it, they rush back home in order to save her. Meanwhile, Bucky and Tony check the footage just to see his precious sweet girl absolutely kicking ass. And I mean hardcore, like she even does the entire widow thigh-neck move. And everyone is like??? And Bucky’s just absolutely fucking HORNY bc “hell I’ve been in between those thighs so many times, you’re telling me I could’ve DIED???”

okay YESSSSS we live for a badass gf who appears to be nothing but sweet sunshine and killer on the inside. Fluffy fluffy and smutty smutty

-

"Be back soon, darling" Bucky cooed, kissing you again and again while everyone boarded the jet, getting in a few more pecks before having to leave on a mission.

"C'mon lover boy, the faster we get going, the faster you get back to your sweetheart!" Tony yelled, shaking his head watching Bucky look a you with puppy eyes, not wanting to leave his sunshine behind. "He's so down bad, I swear"

"Can you blame him, she's so cute" Sam smiled, watching the two of you cling onto each other for a few extra seconds, your form hidden, engulphed in Bucky's thick arms. "Look, you can't even see her when tin man hugs her"

"I'll miss you baby" you kissed Bucky's pouty lips, caressing his scruffy cheek before letting him run off, your cheeks heating up when he blew you another kiss before the doors closed.

"You're a little sap" Nat teased while Bucky blushed, strapping on his gear as the engine roared to life, rumbling as they took off. Bucky had 0 shame in everyone knowing how much he loved you and it started from the day he met you. He got called out immediately, questioned over the dopey smile he had on his face, the blush on his cheeks instantly giving him away.

Soon after you'd started dating, Bucky wanted you closer to him and he didn't have to ask Tony twice; his room was moved to a floor above so you'd have more space to live together. The last thing Bucky wanted was for you to get hurt because of his job. He felt more relaxed knowing you were in he safety of the compound on days where he was away.

"Who would've thought Bucky would be the romantic type"

"I did" Steve groaned, having seen Bucky's flirty side for years but he knew this was different. He hadn't seen his bestfriend like this before, clearly in utterly and desperately in love with you.

"It's adorable" Sam laughed while Bucky continued to smile, scrolling through his phone looking at pictures of you. His camera rolled was filled with various images of you baking, cuddling, sleeping, doing the most mundane things in the world, each making his heart flutter. He felt a pang in his chest, momentarily worried about if you were safe without him, the same anxiety he always felt whenever he had to leave you.

-

You stretched across the sofa, sipping on some hot chocolate and putting on your favorite comfort movie, deciding to have a relaxing night to yourself since the compound was empty. You didn't like when Bucky had to leave but you knew it was part of his job, slipping the fuzzy throw blanket over you shoulders before hitting play.

It had hardly been a few minutes before the screen went black making you blink, wondering if you'd sat on the remote by accident. Suddenly the rest of the lights turned off, a blasting sound coming from the entrance before you heard rushed footsteps nearing you.

Your heart started to race, having no time to hide or think, coming face to face with a number of masked men all towering over you. One grabbed you, pulling out a camera and hitting record, shoving it close to your face with a sinister smile.

"Look who we have, soldat"

-

The jet hadn't been flying for long, a sudden beeping alarm from the security system alerting Tony to check the cameras. His eyes grew wide, seeing the Hydra logo take over the screen before switching the live footage from the hacked system.

"Guys! There's been an attack on the compound!" Tony shouted from the computer, everyone rushing to see what came on screen, billows of smoke emitting from the main wing. Suddenly the screen went black, replaced with a man swearing a black mask, walking around the common room.

"Welcome Mr. Stark" His voice was thick with a Russian accent, the video panning to show the other agents infiltrating the tower. "Where is our soldat"

"You stay the fuck away from my girl" Bucky growled, his heart hammering in his chest, nearly crying when he saw someone grab you and shove you into a chair.

"She's precious to you, isn't she. We'll see you soon" he laughed, before the stream cut off leaving Bucky wanting to scream in frustrating, anxiety clouding all his thoughts, just wanting to get back to you to protect you.

"We have to go help her!" Bucky paced up and down while Tony rerouted the jet, speeding back to save you. "How the fuck do I know what's going on, there has to be something" He pleaded, hating that he no longer had eyes on you.

"Hold on, let me get into the back up feed" Tony tapped away at different keys, getting into the security system, selecting the camera for the common room where you were being held. "Here, I got it! I-Holy shit..."

The sound of screaming screeched through the speaker but it wasn't coming from you.

No.

"B-Barnes, you're girl just killed someone with her thighs" Tony stared at the footage with wide eyes while Bucky and the others watching in awe as your legs wrapped around one of the agents' heads, snapping his neck before flipping over and attacking another one of your assailants.

Bucky nearly choked, watching the men drop to the floor like flies, your arms and legs holding onto the men with a vice like grip until they fell, hardly breaking a sweat each time.

"Do you understand how many time's I've been in between those thighs, you're telling me she could've killed me?!!" Bucky practically moaned, seeing you fight, all his anxiety melting into lust, his cock straining against the thick material of his tac suit.

"Jesus Bucky, you're gonna poke an eye out" Sam's face scrunched up while Bucky adjusted himself, biting his lip to keep from making a sound, his tip leaking, breathing out a sigh of relief seeing you perfectly safe.

"Can't help me, look at her. Better count me out for movie night, m'gonna spent the whole night fuckin'-

"Okay, got it, you're a ridiculous, horny, pervert, and y/n probably won't walk for a week, will you please put that away" Sam shook his head, walking away when he tent in Bucky's pants got worse.

"I'm sorry, we've been housing a Hydra killer all this time?" Tony shook his head as the jet landed, still in disbelief over what everyone had just seen, both impressed and 100% scared of what else you were capable of. "You sure know how to pick em' Barnes"

As soon as the jet hit the floor, Bucky was sprinting off into he compound, running to find you, relief flooding his veins when he saw you sipping on your tea, seated on the couch again. You jumped up from your spot, jumping into your boyfriends arms, clinging onto him while the others also entered, glad to see you were okay. They got to work, clearing up the room, rounding up the few agents that were knocked out for questioning while also giving you and Bucky some privacy.

"Babygirl" Bucky hugged you tightly in his arms, burying his face into your neck, inhaling your soft scent, hoisting you up so your legs were wrapped around his waist. "Are you okay doll, are you hurt?"

"I'm fine Bucky" you reassured him, pecking his soft lips, letting him check you over before feeling satisfied you were okay, not finding a scratch on your body.

"Everything okay Buck?" you cocked your head noticing your boyfriends shift in demeanor, his soft baby blue eyes darkening into something else, biting his lip.

"Baby, I had to hold back from pulling my cock out on the jet and touching myself, you know how much that hurt? How hard I was the entire time, struggling not to jet my dick off watching how sexy you looked" He walked you up to your shared bedroom, his erection shamelessly pushing against your clothed core, not bothering to hide it one bit. "Where have you been hiding all that princess"

"Not hiding Bucky, just-never needed to do that" You shrugged shyly, squeezing your thigs around his waist playfully, making him groan as he dropped you on the bed.

"Can't wait to keep my face between these pretty legs that could kill me" He groaned, slicing your clothes off with his pocket knife before diving in without a care in the world, eating you like a man starved, tapping your thighs to wrap around his head.

"C'mon doll, squeeze em'" he moaned, humping against the bed feeling your muscles flex, his eyes rolling back, nearly cumming against the mattress at the strength he could feel, knowing you were holding back from hurting him.

you could kill him if you want.

Fuck, he was going to cum so fast.

-

"Oh god! Bucky!! PLease! D-DOn't STOP"

"That's it gorgeous, so good to me, so fuckin' pretty. won't last baby, gonna cum for you!"

"They're going at it like rabbits, didn't you sound proof their room after the first incident?"

"I did. This is after the sound proofing"

"Gonna fuck your thighs next baby, you got my cock so hard, almost creamed my pants like a teenager watching, you, oh shit-shit-m'so sensitive, keep clenching around my dick, that's it-fuckkk"

"Jesus christ, it's been an hour"

"Did you forget he has the super soldier serum? They're not gonna stop any time soon"

"I'M CUMMING JAMES"

"Gonna fucking cum for you y/n, OH FUCK YESSS you're so sexy when you fight baby, m'gonna fuckin' cum again, I can't stop"

"He's really gonna go all night, isn't he"

"Can you blame him?"

[eternal-ascensionism]

Song Fic maybe???

Hii! I have a request for you, its a Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader idea with the song "Love Again" by Dua Lipa. Where maybe reader has been through some tough/ toxic relationships and swears off of romance once they joined the avengers but then when Bucky returns from Wakanda the reader begins to develope a crush on Bucky as he flirts with them after having a crush on her from the moment he met them. Maybe the reader thoughts align with the lyrics of the song and in the end the reader lets their heart open and starts dating Bucky after he knocks down all of thier walls :) (Also reader can be female or GN and I tried to give you some like guide but didn't want to restrict you!) Hope you have a good day :D

Ok first anon I love you sm for puttin me on this song it BANGS and I love this idea sm!!!

This is technically more like avengers assistant!reader because I suck at finding cohesive ways to fit an original character into the avengers team ((I have tried since I was 16 LMAO)) but hopefully it still works! Hope you enjoy!

Heaven’s Right Here, Baby 

Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Themes: Angst, comfort, fluff

Warnings:Angst; discussions of: war, PTSD, abusive relationships, trauma bonding, etc. (if you pick up on any I’ve missed pleeease let me know!!)

💗

I glance upward as I hear the rumble above, eyes squinting against the sun’s rays. For some unknown reason, I’d been expecting some grand aircraft; a sleek jet or maybe one of the large helicarriers I’d seen in the hangar back at the Avengers’ HQ when I first arrived. What I was met with was a rather modest plane I’d estimate could fit ten passengers at best. It didn’t really matter, I knew the man aboard couldn’t care less about materialism or prestige. Still, he was one of our team’s brightest and most respected members. It simply felt odd to receive him back via such underwhelming conditions. 

Up until this point, I’d only ever worked basic civilian jobs or the occasional temp gig. However after a particularly traumatic breakup, I’d decided that being miserable and barely living above the poverty line wasn’t cutting it anymore. It took a good few years and a considerable amount of ass kissing, but I eventually got offered a role as an assistant of sorts for Nick Fury in New York City.

Natasha was the first person I’d found myself bonding with; the first night I’d spent in the tower was a long one, and she had spent a large chunk of it comforting me by making me laugh with her Captain America impression. Funnily enough, I’d meet Steve Rogers the next morning in the kitchen. He walked into the kitchen and shook my hand, exchanging names and pleasantries with me as the rest of the team filtered in. I watched anxiously as they all began to dig into the food; I couldn’t pinpoint why, but I found myself desperate to impress each of my new coworkers.

Introductions were made, meals were finished, and I beamed at the compliments toward my cooking. To my surprise the conversations seemed to flow naturally. I couldn’t help but linger on one man in particular, though. His metal arm gleamed brilliantly in the lighting of the spacious dining area. He was a man of few words. Bucky, they called him. The next month consisted of me making a fool of myself through several missions, distracted each time by that smolder and the tortured look behind his eyes. It was a look I knew all too well. Still, I didn’t dare approach sergeant Barnes out of fear. Whether it be fear of authority or my lingering fear of men, I wasn’t sure. Didn’t make much difference; the less interactions, the better. The last thing I needed was to get in over my head during what’s meant to be my fresh start.

Today was his return from the last stage of a program for training and rehab that began long before I came into the picture. From what I understood, it all began a few years back when the late King T’Challa harbored Bucky; partly as a favor to Steve, and partly out of respect for the sergeant. He saw James Buchanan Barnes beyond the outgrown hair and the guarded demeanor. He saw someone worth fighting to save. By the time I’d arrived, his reserved nature had let up a bit. We both exhibit similar acts such as hypervigilance, but I suppose that’ll always remain in some small way. We’re part of the team tasked with ensuring the safety of earth, after all.

I wave a hand to Bucky as he steps off the walkway, a bag slung over his shoulder. When he sees me and the team, he shoots us a small grin. It wasn’t until he made it halfway across the asphalt that I registered the changes of his left arm. The once scuffed and faded titanium had been replaced with a new, higher quality gold and silver prosthetic.

“Vibranium,” Bucky offers, having picked up on my stare. “Shuri helped me.”

I felt a pang in my chest as he looked at it proudly. It was the same ache I’d gotten every time I’d bore witness to sergeant Barnes letting pieces of his real self shine through. I could try and lie to myself, but I’m grown. I know what it means to have feelings for someone. As much as I’d fought to stay neutral from the beginning, something about Bucky had always pulled at my heart. I would never let him know, but he’d melted some part of me that I’d spent years freezing out. Still, I’d vowed to keep to the professional relationship I’ve created with the former soldier. I couldn’t risk letting something like random feelings of fondness jeopardize my job. I am here to help others and to run away from my demons, nothing more and nothing less.

-

“I never thought that I would find a way out, I never thought I’d hear my heart beat so loud. I can’t believe there’s something left in my chest anymore”

-

Upon our entry to the tower, we were met by the quiet humming of music. Puzzled, we all made our way to the lounge area where we found Tony behind the bar in the corner. He raised a glass of amber-colored liquid in our direction as a greeting. “Welcome back, Barnes. Dig the new scrap pieces.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and pointed to the speakers built into the tall ceiling overhead. “Thanks. What’s with the music?” Swinging around the bar to stand in front of us, Tony smirked.

“What? Can’t we have a little homecoming celebration? We missed you, bud.” Before he could reply, Natasha interjected, grabbing Tony’s free hand.

“In that case, let’s dance. You’ve only got six months before your wedding and Pepper is gonna kill you if you step on her white heels.”

I watch in glee as Nat drags Tony away to the open space near the couch to practice his moves for the big day. Everyone branched off into pairs, leaving me standing at the bar with a can of soda while Bucky perched on the arm of the recliner. These little moments of joy made being alive less painful each day. I continued observing my teammates for a while before hearing someone clear their throat from beside me. “Wanna dance, doll?”

The low timbre gave him away without so much as a sideways glance. It was sergeant Barnes. Asking me to dance. With him. Ignoring the cold sensation shooting through my veins, I threw him a smile and nodded. Offering me a hand, we make our way over to the spot where the others are swaying to the crooning of an early 1900s love song. With the way Bucky and Steve perked up as it came on, I’d be willing to bet they were grooving to it back in the days of its first release. The thought warms my heart, and I risk placing my head on Bucky’s shoulder as we let the music guide us. Maybe trusting him for one dance wouldn’t hurt. Maybe it’s okay to let my guard down just this once.

-

“I never knew I had it in me to dance anymore, but god damn, you’ve got me in love again.”

-

Love. That’s what it was. I hated to admit it to myself, it scared me to the point of lost sleep and vomiting, quite frankly. But I couldn’t bear pretending any more. Bucky had been back in New York for all of two weeks before we started being sent on missions together to gather intel on a potential threat. I didn’t know the details, they only ever told me what was absolutely necessary to carry out a job. They explained it was so that if I were to be caught, I could play dumb as a simple civilian caught up in bigger matters on accident. You never know what tactics someone may have to pull the truth from you, but there’s nothing to be extracted if I truly know nothing. However, at the current moment, I wished for little more than to be pulled from this room and dragged elsewhere. I tear my eyes from my debrief notes to stare back at the disheveled man sat across from me. I had yet to fully process what he asked.

“What?” His frown deepens, and I almost regret asking him to repeat himself.

“Do you think I’m someone you could love?”

I was completely taken aback. Sure, the sergeant and I had some pretty deep conversations in the past. We weren’t incredibly close before his return, both of us being highly traumatized and reserved people; but pair long missions with hours spent staring off into the night watching for movement and we had begun to fill the void. He relayed stories of war and torture, and I recounted memories of toxic relationships and a traumatic childhood. It only seemed natural that we eventually progressed into becoming each other’s confidant over the last few months. When we accepted the latest task I expected us to exchange banter, maybe make up some new inside jokes. I didn’t expect it to devolve into a raw and emotional conversation about our past hurts and shortcomings. Bucky had opened up about the women he’d met before the war, branching off into a story where he’d tried to make something work with a woman he’d met briefly in Romania before he’d had to go back on the run. I could see the pain in his expression, I could hear the slight waver in his voice as he tried making sense of where he’d gone wrong in life to deserve it all.

Then he looked up at me, those big grey-blue eyes shining with unshed tears, and he asked me the one question that I know will change everything. Is he someone I could love? When he asked, I realized I already know the answer. I already know I love him.

“Yes.” He blinks at me, seemingly in shock, but I just continue. “I don’t have to think about it, Buck. I love you because you are worthy of being loved. I love you because you are inherently lovable. I love how you care about people, I love how you fight fiercely to protect them. I love how intelligent you are, and how you never use that against others. I love how you make me feel safe. I love how you’ve never given me a reason to question your motives like all the other men I’ve let into my life. I love you, and I didn’t even think I could love again.” I dabbed my sleeve over the wetness pooling under my eyes, chuckling at my own intense reaction. Discussing my feelings was never easy, but it just came naturally with Bucky.

Two hands came up to hold my cheeks as Bucky looked at my face, perhaps studying me for any sign of deceit or sarcasm. I meant every word, though. He wrapped me up in a tight hug, and after he pulled back, I felt a sudden confidence. I leaned in and pressed a soft peck to his stubble-covered cheek, delighting in the light red tint that washed over his face.

“I love you too, doll. I didn’t wanna scare you away, you mean the world to me. Just didn’t imagine you’d feel the same. Not that I’d blame you, with what you’ve told me about the others I wouldn’t blame ya if you never spoke to a man again.” Bucky laid a gentle kiss to the back of my hand that still rested in his. “Honored to be the one you trust.”

“Never have I ever met somebody like you, used to be afraid of love and what it might do. But god damn, you’ve got me in love again”

—!—

HELLO I REALLY HOPE THIS WAS WHAT YOU WANTED! I’m sorry it took me so long to finish I kept branching off with different ideas before settling on one cohesive concept and hopefully I did a decent job following your prompt! Thank you sooo much for the request this was super fun to write and honestly kickstarted my productivity which has been in the shitter since like pre 2020 lmao bless you guys <333

[workersolidarity]

[ 📹 A child, killed in an Israeli airstrike, is found in the arms of his dead father by Palestinian civil defense personnel under the rubble of their residential home in the Gaza Strip on Saturday after a long night of IOF warplanes bombing their way across the entirety of the enclave.]

🇮🇱⚔️🇵🇸 🚀🏠💥🚑 🚨

ZIONIST BOMBING CAMPAIGN KILLS DOZENS ON DAY 176 OF "ISRAEL'S" WAR OF GENOCIDE IN THE GAZA STRIP

On the 176th day of "Israel's" ongoing war of genocide in the Gaza Strip, the Israeli occupation forces (IOF) committed a total of 7 new massacres of Palestinian families, resulting in the deaths of at least 71 Palestinians, mostly women and children, while another 112 others have been wounded over the previous 24-hours.

The Palestinian Red Crescent Society (PRCS) reported on Saturday that a total of 26 personnel have been killed since the beginning of the Zionist aggression on Gaza, including 15 team members who were killed while performing their duties.

PRCS crews also reported transporting the bodies of two martyrs, killed as a result of occupation artillery shelling of a civilian structure in the Al-Maghazi Camp, in the central Gaza Strip.

Israeli occupation forces continued with their offensive near Al-Shifa Medical Complex, located in the Al-Rimal neighborhood of Gaza City, besieging the hospital for at least 10 consecutive days, while horrific attacks on civilians, patients and medical personnel in the hospital are being reported, including field executions of civilians, illegal detentions, torture, and forced displacement of local residents and civilians sheltering in the complex.

Elsewhere, Zionist occupation forces bombed a residential home belonging to the Abdo family on Al-Wahda Street, in the Al-Rimal neighborhood of Gaza City, resulting in the deaths of 10 family members.

In yet another horrific atrocity, Zionist soldiers assassinated a police officer in Gaza City as he drove his wife and children in his civilian vehicle, killing all seven family members.

IOF warplanes also bombarded The Shuja'iyya Club, a local sports club in the Al-Shujaiya neighborhood, east of Gaza City, resulting in the martyrdom of several citizens, including members of the popular committees in charge of organizing the distribution of humanitarian aid.

The Zionist occupation army also targeted starving Palestinians waiting for food aid on Salah al-Din Street, in the Al-Zaytoun neighborhood, east of Gaza City, wounding a number of civilians.

Occupation bombing, shelling and gunfire also continues to target civilians across the northern Gaza Strip.

Meanwhile, the Israeli occupation forces also completed the destruction of the city of Prisoners, north of the Al-Nuseirat Refugee Camp, in the central Gaza Strip, leveling 21 out of 24 buildings in the area.

Simultaneously, Zionist warplanes bombed several civilian homes near the Prisoner Towers, west of the Al-Nuseirat Camp, martyring five civilians.

Occupation fighter jets also bombarded the town of Al-Mughraqa, along with the Al-Nuseirat Camp, Al-Maghazi and in the vicinity of the Wadi Gaza Bridge in the central Gaza Strip.

The IOF also targeted the headquarters of the municipalities of Al-Bureij and Al-Zawayda in the central Governate of the Gaza Strip, which can no longer provide basic services as a result.

In yet another horrific crime, IOF warplanes bombed a civilian residence belonging to the Musa family in the Al-Maghazi Camp, in the central Gaza Strip, killing several family members and wounding a number of others, while the explosion from the blast also wrought massive destruction on nearby houses.

In the south of Gaza, local paramedic and civil defense crews say they transported the bodies of 13 Palestinians who were slaughtered in mass killings after the occupation bombing of the town of Al-Qarara, north of Khan Yunis.

Violent raids continued when Zionist aircraft bombed central Abasan al-Kabira, east of Khan Yunis, in the south of the Gaza Strip, martyring two Palestinian civilians and wounding a number of others, while occupation warplanes also wrought massive destruction after bombing several multi-storied residential buildings in the Austrian neighborhood west of Khan Yunis.

The Zionist occupation army, including tanks, armored vehicles, and warplanes, have been hammering, with violent airstrikes and heavy artillery shelling, targeting various areas of Khan Yunis, with special attention paid to the eastern and western neighborhoods of the city, and also in the vicinity of Nasser Medical Complex.

Several firebelts were also launched by IOF fighter jets targeting the Khuza'a neighborhood, east of Khan Yunis, along with the Sufa and Abasan areas, northeast of the city.

It is also being reported that the number of dead as a result of the IOF bombing of the Abu Muammar family home in Rafah City, in southern Gaza, on Thursday morning has risen to 14.

The infinitely rising death toll resulting from "Israel's" war of genocide in the Gaza Strip has now exceeded 32'705 Palestinians killed, with more than 25'000 of the victims being women and children according to the United States Pentagon, while an additional 75'190 civilians have been wounded since the start of the current round of Zionist aggression beginning on October 7th, 2023.

#source1

#source2

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#source6

#source7

#infographicsource

#videosource

@WorkerSolidarityNews

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Photo Finish

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Description: I don't really have words for this. @desert-fern and I were chatting about Hangman thots. And this spilled out of my brain.

Warnings: This is just porn. Porn with Plot. Consume at your own risk.

Word Count: 6484

A/N: This is dedicated to @desert-fern, @dakotakazansky and @horseshoegirl! Read and enjoy the thots my darlings!

AO3: Cross-posted Here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted Here!

It is an unforgiving job, working as a photographer. You'd been all over the world taking pictures for exposes, portraits of world leaders, and scenery. You could name a print material with a portrait on the cover and say you'd taken a picture of that kind. 

It's your first time in New York after six months of working on assignment after assignment for your agency when you're called into your boss’s office and ordered to get a studio ready. You're expecting a shot with supermodels or perfumes. Hell, you've even taken photos of cans of dog food. You're not expecting to hear that the client is the U.S. Navy. Not at all.

The U.S. Navy's recruitment numbers have fallen to an all-time low. They're looking for a propaganda vehicle or five to kickstart recruitment. They've ordered a squadron of pilots to fly to New York and have professional portraits taken. It had been decided it was too risky to have civilian photographers on base, so your company had rented a colossal hangar from the airport for one day. The squadron and their jets would land tonight, and the shoot would happen tomorrow. The information has you reeling and more than a little flustered. The U.S. Navy? As a client? That’s huge. This assignment could make or break your whole career. How do you even start? This shoot is on an awfully quick turnaround for something so big.

Your mind is spinning, thinking of how you could make these spreads work. To begin your prep work, you go to your office, collecting your assistant, stylists, makeup artist, and lighting coordinators. Once everyone is clustered around your office, you fire up your computer and display pictures of each aviator. The Navy has selected six aviators for this spread; they’re all gorgeous. And per the sanitized dossiers you hand out to your team to read, each has risked their lives to serve their country. Of the five men on the dossiers, one keeps catching your attention. His name is Jake, Jake Seresin, and his eyes pierce into you even through the low-quality picture you’ve been given.

“Alright. So how do we do this? The Navy asked for shots of each aviator and their plane in flight suits and uniforms. We’ll have all four jets in the hangar with us tomorrow. Additionally, I want to explore who they are as people. So I think we’ll also do shots of them in formal wear. As a last step, we’ll tie into their sex appeal and do shots of the boys in their flight jackets and dog tags with no shirts. For Lieutenant Trace, I thought we could explore the duality she naturally poses as a highly decorated female Naval Aviator. How does that sound? Any ideas for how we can accomplish that? Start pulling pieces on racks in the bullpen. I want to do a final review of all of the options at 4 o’clock.”

Your stylists, Adam and Lea, are already huddled up and discussing pieces to pull for the formal wear shoot. You can see an unholy gleam in Lea’s eyes as she finds pieces for Lieutenant Trace to wear for the sex appeal shot on her tablet. You grin at their enthusiasm before turning to your lighting techs.

“Seb, Kris. I want you both to head out to the hangar today. I don’t know what the lighting is going to look like. Feel free to start setting up the lighting for the shoot tomorrow. But don’t lock anything down. We’re going to have to share our space with the planes.”

You turn to your assistant, Amy. 

“Ames, go with them. Get an idea of the space we have to deal with. Measurements would be useful. Start visualizing areas where we could lay out a backdrop to do a set of pics without the planes in the background. Scope out everything — the facilities, where we could set up changing booths, a refreshments table, etc. We’ll also probably need to coordinate deliveries from the usual food platters and drinks places. Get an assortment of things that would apply to any dietary restrictions you can think of.”

With that, you turn to the last member of your team, your makeup artist. 

“Hey, Katie. We will want to keep the makeup for this shoot subtle and touch up any blemishes and under-eye circles. That should be it for the boys, but we’ll want to do something eye-catching for the formal wear portion for Lieutenant Trace. So pack accordingly. Go ahead if you want, and head to the hangar with Ames so you can coordinate placement for the makeup station.”

You call your team to attention by ringing the small gong on your desk.

“We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us today. Call me for anything you need. This shoot is important for the studio, and we will have many eyes on us. Here are the credentials for the hangar. Measurements for the aviators are included in the dossier packets. For the formal wear portion of the shoot, pick coordinating colors except for Lieutenant Trace. Good luck!”

The rest of your morning is spent coordinating with the Navy Liasion. During your lunch break, you head to the hangar and help your team as they work there. You pick up sandwiches and drinks for everyone and drop some off for Adam and Lea. You reach the hangar at 1:30 and use your credentials to let yourself in. Unsurprisingly, the hangar is a hive of activity. Amy’s marking down placement points near the bathrooms with a measuring tape, and Katie’s getting a vanity plugged in and organizing her equipment.

Meanwhile, Seb and Kris are testing the lighting. A large swath of the Hangar floor is as yet empty. A clear path has been left from the hangar doors to the open area. The open area is where four F/A-18A Super Hornets are going to sit. You call your team to grab their lunches and catch up with Amy on her progress. It’s your first time delegating so much of the admin work to Amy since she’s the newest on the team, and you’re ecstatic with her progress.

She’s gotten everything organized, including the food and beverage deliveries. When a pair of workmen back in a truck containing the backdrop and the changing rooms, you supervise as they build them and place them where you want them. They’ve just started assembling the backdrop when your phone rings. You step into the afternoon sunshine to take the call. It’s the Navy Liasion. He’s calling to inform you that the squadron will be landing shortly. Sure enough, you can just hear the engines as you hang up and bolt indoors. Amy’s just sending the workmen on their way as you help your team clear the open areas of the hangar and stand near the open hangar door. 

You can feel the thrum of the engines as Four F/A-18As fly in formation and finally land in all their glory. They’re beautiful machines. You can smell the stink of the jet fuel and feel the heat from the engines as they roll into the hangar. The next moments are full of frantic activity as the flight crews help ensure the jets are safely landed. Once all the furor has died down, you finally reach where the aviators have descended from their jets. They’re examining your team's work with eagle eyes that dart to your person as you step closer, your heels echoing as you make your way to the jets. 

They’re even more gorgeous than their pictures indicated, even sweaty with helmet hair as they are. As one, they line up in front of you and salute, introducing themselves with their rank, full name, and callsign. You can hear Amy and Katie’s giggles from behind you as you introduce yourself and your team. The entire time you lay out the plan for the following day, you can feel a set of eyes boring into the side of your face. All the aviators are staring right at you, but Lieutenant Seresin makes you feel like squirming. His green eyes stay on you as you show them the different areas in the hangar and explain the order of the day. Thankfully, they leave the hangar shortly after you tell them their call time for the next morning. 

A couple of hours later, everything is ready to go, thanks to Amy, Seb, Kris, and Katie. The corner near the bathroom has two changing rooms set up. Nearby are spaces for the racks of clothing and the makeup station. It will be perfect for the photoshoot you have in mind. The concrete floors are a little chilly, so you text Lea and ask her to add some of the rugs from storage to the truck. You send her a snap of the current layout so she and Adam know what they’re walking into the following morning. You know she and Adam will pick something that complements the gunmetal gray of the planes and the clothing they’re selecting. Before long, you and your team are packed into the back of two Ubers and heading back to the studio for the final part of your day, evaluating the clothing Adam and Lea have picked.

You’re satisfied as you head home that night. Your team has done an amazing job, and the only thing you have to do is pack your cameras and lenses. You carefully wipe and pack each lens and each camera, working as quickly as possible since you have to be at the hangar with an early 6 AM call time. Amy’s picking up the coffee and breakfast deliveries at 7, and the Squadron will show up at 8 AM sharp.

When your alarm goes off at half past four the next morning, you feel barely rested. Your hair is a bird’s nest atop your head, and your eye bags could put a raccoon to shame.  But you’ve got a busy day ahead of you, so you gulp a scalding cup of coffee and walk zombie-like into your shower. Forty-five minutes later, you’re dressed in a smart blouse and pencil skirt with heels on your feet and bleary but ready to face the day. You’ve thrown your hair into a French braid snaking down your back and left your makeup and jewelry simple to avoid causing unforeseen sparkles and shadows when Kris and Seb turn the lights on.

Your team has just reached the hangar when you step in. All the lights are on in the early morning haze, and you’re immediately swept up in the preparations. It’s like you’re needed everywhere. You only get fifteen minutes to lay out your camera equipment and hook up the cameras to your laptop before you’re pulled into last-minute adjustment after last-minute adjustment. It feels like barely any time has passed when the aviators swagger through the open hangar door. They’re dressed in khaki uniforms, each holding a hanger with a leather flight jacket.

Adam and Lea direct them to leave their garment bags on an open rack, and you’re off to the races. You start with individual shots of each aviator with their plane and then against the backdrop. You’ve cued up a playlist of Top-40 hits, and you can’t help humming along as you snap away. As expected, it takes a bit for the aviators to warm up to being photographed. Two, Lieutenants Bradshaw and Seresin, take to posing for the camera like a fish out of water. Lieutenant Fitch follows shortly after them. Then all you needed to get Fanboy to cut loose was get him talking about his favorite tv show. You don’t mind the onslaught of Star Trek facts and figures because Lieutenant Mickey Garcia is adorable once you get him smiling and dancing to the songs playing. 

That leaves you with Lieutenants Trace and Floyd. Lieutenant Floyd goes next, and the first thing he does when he sees you holding the camera is blush. The bashful look on his face makes a soft squeal slip out of Amy’s mouth, and you side-eye your assistant with your fiercest glare to get her to chill out. Thankfully, Lea drags her away to help with some of the clothing. There’s no need to make the sweetheart even more uncomfortable. Much like Lieutenant Garcia, you try to get him talking. And it works, at least until Lieutenant Seresin opens his mouth and says,

“C’mon, Baby On Board. A pretty girl’s taking your picture, and you can’t even smile? This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, at least for you. You should enjoy it while it lasts.”

You can feel your blood pressure rising at how rude he is and are about to open your mouth to tell him to get out of your field of vision when Lieutenant Floyd does it himself.

“Why, Bagman? Are you afraid that if I start posing for real, all the girls will dump you as fast as possible for me instead?”

You have to stifle your giggles as Lieutenant Seresin blinks wide-eyed at Lieutenant Floyd before walking away. 

“That’s a great idea, Bob!” Lieutenant Trace is never one to leave an opportunity to cheer on her WSO.

That’s what breaks the ice between you and Lieutenant Floyd. You feel his solo plane shots have turned out better than the others. The final aviator in uniform to photograph is Lieutenant Trace. But no matter what you do, you can’t get her to loosen up. 

“Alright, everyone. Let’s take fifteen. Adam and Lea, can you get the Lieutenants in their formal wear while I finish up with Lieutenant Trace?” 

That clears the gentlemen away and leaves you and Lieutenant Trace by the planes. That’s when you finally see a fraction of the tension she holds in her shoulders drain away. She’s still standing stiffly but no longer in full parade rest. You turn the music up, put on ABBA, and pray that the music finally gets her to unwind. It takes a bit, and Lieutenant Bradshaw, now wearing a navy blue tuxedo, wiggling his hips to the beat but unwind she does. He gives you a wink before shimmying away. You can see the rest of your team laughing as the aviators pull out their silliest dance moves. 

After finishing up Lieutenant Trace’s final uniform pictures, you leave her in Lea and Katie’s capable hands and start taking the solo shots of the men. They’re all dressed in navy blue tuxedos with white shirts and shiny black dress shoes. There isn’t a tie in sight, and the jackets are perfectly tailored to their figures. You can’t help the impressed looks you give them and mentally note to compliment Lea and Adam later. Everything is going well until you start to see slack-jawed looks where the lieutenants had been smoldering into the camera. You turn and grin satisfactorily as Lieutenant Trace steps forward. Lea had selected a gorgeous crimson and burgundy gown, and Katie had chosen to leave her hair in loose curls. You’re not surprised at the boys’ awe. She looks breathtaking and like her callsign in all its fiery glory. The contrasting color combinations as she joins the boys look fantastic in the pictures. 

The final set of pictures happens after a lunch break. The gentlemen are only too eager to slip off their shirts, though you can hear Bob pleading with Lea to spare him. You wish him luck, as you know from experience that Lea’s not one to give in easily. The only other aviator who looks discomfited is Lieutenant Trace. You pull her aside.

"Lt. Trace. How would you feel about doing a shot wearing just one of the men's jackets, some heels, and jewelry? You don’t have to wear one that one of the guys has worn today. Lea and Adam brought plenty of spares."

"Please, call me Natasha. And no. I'm not doing that."

"Natasha, I have a feeling I know why, but would you tell me?" Her shoulders surround her ears as you try to reason with her.

"I'm not going to wear that just to act as the sole piece of eye candy in this group. I got here by working just as hard, if not harder, than all of them. I won't negate all my hard work with a pin-up pose on Navy propaganda."

"Thank you for telling me that. I'm not going to pressure you into doing this. But, I would like to bring one item to your consideration. You think taking a picture like this will negate your hard work. Doesn't that negate your inherent sense of femininity? You're a fighter pilot. Yes. One of the best of the best. But you're also a woman. And to me, that's one of your biggest strengths. Girls walking into Navy recruitment offices deserve to know they can be kick-ass officers and beautiful too.”

You take a breath, cataloging the emotions flitting across her face.

“I'm not asking you to do this shot because you're beautiful. As we both know, you are. I'm asking you to do this shot to show the world that you can be one of the best and still be feminine. Be strong and delicate. Sweet and savage. I want you to show the world that serving your country doesn't mean you have to only act like men. Women can serve and do everything that a man can without compromising anything. Be it their looks, their career, or their femininity."

Your words have resonated with her. You can see the figurative light bulb go off in her head as she resolutely nods, gathers up the skirts of her gown, and walks right towards Lea like a woman possessed. You grin and proceed with taking shots of the others. But this time, it’s Lieutenant Seresin that you’re having problems with. He’s stiff like his charm has melted away. You switch to the others and finish their shots easily. Even Natasha stuns in just the oversized blazer. You take a break and review the pictures on your laptop. They’re all perfect. You’ll need a day or so to clean up any small defects, but other than that, they’re exactly what you were looking for. The Navy will be pleased with the results, you hope.

You just need this one set of pictures from Lieutenant Jake Seresin, callsign Hangman, and you can finally go home and take off your heels and bra. Your irritation grows as you attempt to take the pictures you need five times. Your groan of exhaustion and irritation is far longer and louder than it should be. That’s when you start dismissing your team and the Daggers.

“Head on out, all of you. We have to clean up the hangar by the day after tomorrow when the Daggers leave. I will finish up these photos with Lieutenant Seresin, and we should be following you shortly.”

The Daggers all scramble to change, and it's less than half an hour later when you say farewell as the Daggers and your team file out the Hangar door and close it behind them. That’s when you’re left alone with the one man who’s been driving you crazy all day. You try, futilely, to get him to pose how you want, but no matter what you say and how you move him, the pictures don't turn out like you want them to. 

Partway through the latter half of the photo shoot, you'd switched to having all of the Daggers standing against the backdrop. You're regretting that decision now. 

You're done, and the blonde idiot is just standing there and smirking at you. In the studio light, you can see every ridge of his abs and the downy hair dotting his torso. You kick your heels off and let your hair out of its braid. After so long in the tight braid, it feels great to let your scalp relax.

You stalk up to Lieutenant Seresin and grab hold of his arm.

"Right. Let's make this easy on both of us. I will position you how I want you, and you won't move. Okay?"

"Darlin', just tell me to jump, and I'll ask you how high."

And now he's trying to flirt with you. Great. You roll your eyes and position his head and arms as you want him. This close, you can smell his cologne, the cedar and plum scent wafting from his skin. It's an expensive scent that is ever so inconsistent with his personality. Thankfully he doesn't fight you as you position him. 

You could cry. You're so relieved. You are finally getting the needed pictures, and Lieutenant Seresin is cooperating. His eyes still track you as you stalk barefoot back and forth from the laptop to the lights, all with your camera in tow as you make small adjustments. But you don't feel their weight as self-consciously anymore. 

In the final pose, you press on his stomach to get him to straighten his back, and your entire world seems to freeze. His abs are taut, the light dusting of hair soft against your fingers as you glance up at his face. His lips are bitten red as his eyes peer into you. It's electric being this close to him. Something is yearning in his eyes when you step away and take the final pictures. 

Your face is hot as you walk back to the table with your laptop and examine the pictures. You're exhausted, but you've finally done it. Of all the pictures, Lieutenant Seresin's looks the best. His photos exhibit strength, passion, and raw sexuality, exposing a stripe of his taut torso and dog tags. 

"Damn, darlin'. I knew you were a good photographer when I looked up your work before we flew to New York for this, but I had no idea how good you were. These pictures. They're something else."

You startle at his voice, emanating from near your ear, and jolt out of your seat. You nearly fall, but he catches you, steadying you with an arm wrapped around your waist. You gulp as you’re pressed against his chest. He's so close that you can count the flecks of gold swimming in his green eyes. You can't keep your gaze from trailing over his face, from his eyes down to his lips, and back up again. 

"Sweetheart, tell me if I'm reading you wrong, but it looks like you want to kiss me. And I know I want to kiss you. I have since I saw you for the first time yesterday."

You can't keep yourself from nodding at his words. But he's watching you like a hawk and catches your movements. So it's hardly a surprise when he trails his other hand up your side and pinches your chin before slanting his mouth over yours. 

He kisses as he flies, you think. Precise and pointed, each brush of his tongue against your calculated to make your cunt clench and throb with need. You're wet, embarrassingly so. He doesn't pull away until your lips are swollen from the rough kiss. 

Your chest heaves as he traces his finger across your lips. He's got a smug smirk on his face. You pull away from him, carefully selecting your video camera from all your camera equipment, and return to his plane. You turn on the lights, dimming them until there is just enough light to throw the area in the jet's shadow in relief in your camera, hit record, and beckon him to come to you.

"Lieutenant, it's been a bit since I've had some fun. What would you say if I suggest we make a movie?"

His grin is salacious as he lets the leather jacket fall to the ground and tugs you back into his arms.

"Baby, it'd be my pleasure."

Your answering laugh transforms into a moan as he kisses roughly down your throat, paying special attention to your pulse point. His talented hands trail up and down your waist, nimble hands rucking your blouse up from your skirt until he can finally touch your bare skin. Your moans as he traces patterns across your ribs are muffled in his kiss.

"Jake."

Your voice is breathy and high as you try to get his mouth back on yours. But when you look at his face, something is commanding in his gaze.

"Take your shirt off, baby. Let me see what you're wearing."

You tug your shirt off, thankful there aren't any buttons or ties to impede your progress. Jake’s groan at the sight of the lace covering your breasts sends goose bumps over your skin.

His voice is reverent as he walks around you.

"God, baby. You killed me this morning. Wearing that pretty little skirt and those high heels. I wanted to bend you over and fuck you until you were leaking my cum."

He stops before you, pressing his thumb between your parted lips. He dips it in until it's wet with your pooling saliva and drags it down your throat. His finger drags over the soft flesh of your breasts, leaving a cool, damp trail as he pays special attention to the peaks of your nipples. 

He continues walking, stopping at your back and dragging you in until your back is flush against his chest. He positions you with both hands until you're centered with the camera. He keeps up a filthy litany of praise as he carefully uses his thumbs to drag your bra cups down, sending your tits spilling free. His hands immediately find their way to fondle and caress them, calloused fingers kneading and squeezing until your hips are canting unconsciously, searching for additional stimulation. 

His smile is filthy when he finally pulls you away, intertwining your fingers with his and leading you to his plane.

"Put your hands on my plane, baby. And whatever you do, don't take them off."

You can't resist your soft moan as you do exactly what he says after unfastening your bra. You can't see his face, but you can feel his lips in the hollow behind your ear as he grinds his stiff cock against your ass. 

"Stay there, baby. Gonna take these trousers off so you don't get in trouble if we make a mess."

Your nipples are pebbled in the cool air as you wait for Jake to return to you. You can hear the clink of the belt buckle and the rustle of fabric as he drags the garment off before padding back to you. His hands trail teasingly over your sensitive skin as he brackets your waist. His thumbs rub soothingly at your waist as he peppers kisses across your bare shoulders. Jake then carefully drags the zip at the back of your skirt down and eases it off your hips.

It pools to the ground at your feet, and you shudder at the feeling of his hand on your ass as he collects it and sets it on a chair in your line of sight. He's gorgeous. You can see every line of his muscles and the bulge of his erect cock in his boxers. The only thing you're wearing now is your thong. He slides the flimsy lace off, and that's when you feel his breath across your hole.

"Oh, baby. You're so wet. Wet for your Lieutenant, huh?"

He blows a stream of air over you, and you can feel your hole clench at the sensations. 

"What do you want me to do to you, baby? How do you want to cum? On my tongue? On my fingers? On my cock? You gotta tell me, sweetheart."

Your voice is breathy as you babble, "All of them, Jake! I want your tongue, your fingers, and your cock. It's been so long since I came. Please!"

He kisses your shoulder before kneeling and burying his tongue between your thighs. Each brush has you practically sobbing with pleasure. It's been so long since you came that it's only a few minutes before his tongue brings you to the brink of your orgasm. You're already chanting his name, your moans echoing through the hangar.

"Cum," he growls, his mouth still sealed to your cunt, and you're only too happy to comply, your hands scrabbling for something to squeeze on as you ride out the waves of your orgasm on his tongue.

He pulls away after a few minutes and turns you around. His mouth is on you instantly, nipping at your breasts before he kisses you hard. You can feel how hard he is against your thigh as you sink to your knees and free him from the constricting fabric.

It's only fair that you return the favor. So you start with kitten licks flicking across the head of his cock. Each tender pass of your tongue has him moaning. It's not long before his hands find their way into your hair, holding the loose strands in a ponytail at the back of your head. You use the extra leverage to begin deep-throating him in earnest. You use as much suction and saliva as possible, moaning wantonly as he fucks your mouth. His pants and grunts send heat pooling into your cunt as he approaches his orgasm. But before you can convince him to come on your tongue, he jerks himself off over your tits, spurting his release over your skin in hot thick ribbons.

There is a feral look in his eyes at the sight of you like that on your knees, and Jake lopes over to your cameras, carefully grabbing one. He drapes his dog tags around your neck and carefully snaps pictures of the pearl necklace he'd given you. He lays the camera onto the chair before coming back to you.

"Do you still want me to fuck you?"

"Yes." Your consent is less words and more a cock-drunk mewl, but Jake interprets it correctly.

"Can you get on all fours for me?"

You're only too eager to comply, positioning yourself under his eager hands as he takes his spot against your ass.

"I don't have any condoms, baby. How do you want to do this?"

"I'm on the pill, Jake. Please, fuck me. Fuck me raw."

He groans before pressing himself inside you. The slow drag of his big cock as it presses into you has your pulse racing. Jake keeps the pace purposefully slow, using his hands at your hips to hold you still as he deliberately fucks into you. It's so good that each press has you screaming, and you've long since reached the cliff of your orgasm. But what Jake's giving you just isn't enough. That's when you start wiggling your hips to meet his thrusts.

The first heavy smack of his palm against your ass has you freezing completely, caught in the pain-pleasure-pain sensation his hand is wringing out of you. The second has you moaning, your pussy fluttering around his length. His groan is near musical as he continues to smack your ass. Each smack brings you closer to your orgasm, and you're practically begging for it now. You wail when he begins to fuck you again in earnest. His balls smack against the hot skin of your ass as you finally let yourself cum. 

Your orgasm is so strong and intense that you black out. When you come to, you're cradled against Jake's chest, his hand tracing lazily over your back. You're both still under his jet. You prop yourself up on his chest with shaking arms and groan at the sensation of cum dripping out of you. It’s several long moments before you rise carefully on wobbly legs. But the sight you see when standing has your cunt clenching in need again. Jake’s torso is now covered in droplets of the mixture of both of your cum. You grab your camera and take a picture of that too.

Jake grins as he collects the bundle of your clothes and follows behind you to the bathroom. You can’t help the gasp leaving your lips as you see yourself in the mirror. He’s marked up your decolletage, and now is when you can feel the painful sting in your ass. 

“God, baby. Let me take a picture of your ass? It looks beautiful. You can see my whole hand on it.”

You groan as he presses a kiss against the sore cheek before positioning you and taking the pic. All you can see is the globe of your ass, the handprint, and the cascade of your hair down your back.

“Are you sure you didn’t pick the wrong calling, Jake?  You could’ve been a fantastic photographer if you’d chosen to.”

“Oh, I’m sure, darlin’. I love flying too much to regret my decision. And flying brought me to you.”

You grin before beginning to clean yourself up. Jake can’t resist kissing you, and you can’t resist kissing him back, either. Before long, you’re all clean and dressed in your underwear, blouse, and skirt again. Jake even has your shoes and chivalrously kneels to slide them onto your feet. He’s back in his trousers, this time sans the leather jacket. You can’t resist trailing your fingers across his skin and wrapping your arms around his neck as you kiss him. But you have to break away from him. You only add to his current look by slinging his dog tags around his neck.

Back in the hangar, you’re packing up your cameras after ensuring your home movie is saved when the door to the hangar opens. It’s a security guard, and you’re glad he didn’t pop in earlier.

“Hello, miss. I just wanted to check in and make sure everything is alright.”

“Yes, everything is fine, officer. I just finished a photo shoot with my last client, and we’ll leave shortly.”

"Alright, miss. We have to restrict access to the hangar at 11 pm. It's about 9:30 now, so finish up and head on your way."

You can hear Jake opening the curtain to the changing room behind you and can see the Officer's position stiffen as he catches sight of the medals on his breast.

"Sir, apologies, I wasn't aware that the client she mentioned was military."

He's falling over himself, and you can see the smug smirk on Jake's face as he grins and walks the officer out. You can't help grinning as you finish packing your lenses and begin unplugging your laptop after saving all the footage you’d captured today. You know Jake is back when you feel an arm wrap around your waist. You lean easily back into his expensive-smelling embrace and can't resist sagging against him for a few moments.

"It's been a long day, huh, darlin'?" He presses a kiss against your jaw. "Let's get you packed up and home."

You smile at the new, softer side of him and kiss his jaw.

"I'm all packed up. Walk me to my car?"

"'Course, sugar. Give me your camera bag. D'you need to check on anything else before we head out?"

You pad over to all the electrical outlets, hitting the switches on power strips to ensure nothing is still on. The final place you check via phone flashlight is the area under Jake's jet. You're wearing all of your clothing. You just want to make sure you haven't made a mess with your extracurricular activities.

"I cleaned it all up already, baby. It was when you were knocked out after your orgasm." 

You startle, having grown used to his presence over the past few hours.

"Then let's head out?" 

You relinquish your camera bag to him, keeping your oversized tote on your shoulder as the two of you stride out of the hangar. You lead him to the small parking lot to the side and pop the trunk for your car, thankful you'd decided to drive to the airfield. 

"Let me give you a ride to your hotel. It's the least I can do after keeping you so late."

"Darlin', I should be thanking you. I haven't cum like that in a long time."

You've seen the man completely naked and writhed in pleasure at his touch. You shouldn't be so flustered in his presence. But you can't explain the catch in your breath as he opens the driver's side door for you before loping around to the passenger side and settling in. Everything between you and Jake doesn't feel like the aftermath of a hot frantic sexual encounter. It feels like a date.  You feel light and easy as you cruise back into the city. The silence between the two of you is comfortable. It’s not long before you drop him off in front of his hotel. He presses a kiss against your lips before swaggering in. And you head home to your small New York apartment, feeling the ghost of his presence as you go.

The next morning, you’re glad you chose to work from home because the first pictures you edit are the ones you’d taken of Jake and the ones he’d taken of you as well as your home movie. You can’t resist fingering yourself as your moans and his grunts spill out of your computer speakers. You don't have to do much editing there, but you carefully load the incriminating footage onto two flash drives — one for you and one for him. The photos for the Navy, too, are edited in no time flat. 

It's in the afternoon when you head into the studio. When you get in, you're surprised to see all the Daggers, your boss, your team, and two Admirals waiting for you. Your boss runs the show, introducing and greeting them before the floor is ceded to you. You show the assembled guests the pictures you'd taken for the Navy. 

The pictures are well received, especially the photos of Lieutenant Trace. You wink cheekily at her as Admirals Simpson and Mitchell praise the juxtaposition of those shots. As you show the last picture, you can finally breathe. Your boss is proud, especially as the Admirals turn to her and approve the pictures. But you have one final set of pictures to deliver.

"Lieutenant Seresin, apologies. I found this in my bag this morning. It was lying in the changing room when I looked through it to ensure everyone had taken their things. It must've fallen out of the pocket of your flight jacket."

His smirk is salacious as he accepts the flash drive from your hand, apologizing for leaving it there. You hand him a note, too, and leave the room. You would pay to see the look on his face when he sees what you’ve written on it.

Jake -  Thanks for last night. Call me the next time you're in New York. I'd love to do it again. It certainly was a photo finish. XXX - XXX - XXXX

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

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