friduus

[orcelito]

that one bookmark is gone and on one hand im glad i dont have to see it anymore but on the other hand im a little embarrassed at the thought of them having seen me have a whole mini spiral about it at like 5 am. like sorry random person ig

[literallydontlook]

The Unexpected (2/4)

You’re just not that interested in dating military men, nor have you ever been with an alien lover. But a chance Ascension Week encounter awakens something you didn’t know was inside. Chapter 2 of 4.

Pairing: Thrawn x f!reader

Rating: 18+

TW/CW: none (or if I’m missing something, please let me know!)

Tags: sexual tension, romance, slow burn, civilian reader, sexual fantasy, m@sturbation

Word count: 2k+

A/N: I know I said the whole thing is written, but I got sort of unhappy with it and thought I’d rewrite some. My Thrawn crush has sort of cooled so I couldn’t find the energy to do it. But! I am a woman of my word! Here’s part II, unedited, no beta we die like chiss. 

<-- Part 1 - The Trap

Part 2 - Friends

Dajmita had returned in the morning wearing last night’s gown, her makeup smudged from a night of sexual activity. Removing her shoes, she found you curled up in a blanket on the sofa. Your makeup from the previous evening in a similar state of disrepair.

“What happened to you?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips.

“I tried to take someone home,” you groaned pulling the blanket over your head.  She smiled impishly and then faltered, “Wait - What do you mean tried?”

“How do you do it? I took him to my studio for a ‘tour’,” your hands motioned in air quotes, “and he bought a piece of art and left.”

Dajmita was torn between laughter and pity. She sat down beside you and stroked your hair, pulling tangled pins out as she tried to sooth you, “Only you could miscommunicate a hookup.”

Your data pad pinged and you grabbed for it blindly from under the blanket. You groaned, “Aaa ugh it’s already noon?” You threw your legs over the side of the couch and dragged your feet to the refresher.

“Do you have to be somewhere?” Dajmita called from the other room. You washed your face and pulled the remaining pins from your head, then pulled your hair up into a messy half bun. You sighed.

“I promised to meet a friend for lunch,” you breathed out tiredly as you brushed your teeth.

“You could just cancel,” she pointed out.

There was only the sound of scrubbing as you considered this. Spitting out the foam and rinsing your mouth you decided you shouldn’t flake.

“No...I should go,” you sighed again, pulling off your gown and rummaging through your dresser for something comfortable to wear. Dajmita gave you a concerned look.

“Well, I guess you must be pretty comfortable with this person if you’re going out like that.” You looked in the mirror and shrugged. You grabbed a cloak and pulled the hood over your head, “It’s not like anyone wants to hook up with me when I’m dressed up anyway!” you cried out over-dramatically.

Dajmita crossed her arms, “Don’t say that.”

“Just let me wallow for one day,” you complained, dragging your feet out the front door, “I’ll be back later.”

She laughed, “Fine but you’re being ridiculous! We’re doing something fun when you get back!” she called after you.

“Fiiine!” you called back.

——-

Eli had already found a table at Dex’s Diner when you arrived.

“What’s with the cloak? Did you have a uh...rough night?” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows. You glared at him.

“Whoa sorry we don’t need to go into detail,” he raised his hands defensively. You buried your head in your arms, “Nothing happened.” Your voice was muffled.

He realized you were serious as you sat back up to give the waitdroid your order. “What do you mean nothing happened?” he asked incredulously.

You took a deep breath, your cheeks burning with embarrassment, “Stars I can’t be talking to you about this!” you cried out.

“Hey I’m not a little kid anymore,” Eli shot back. “You can talk to me,” he offered kindly.

“I mean, what more can I say? We went to my studio and he bought a painting and then left.” Now that some time had passed, you could laugh a little. Then a thought occurred to you.

“Is he married or something? Or anti-inter-species?” Eli’s face twisted in thought, “He’s definitely not married, but to be honest I didn’t realize he had a sexuality.”

“Oh.” you considered this, not sure if you should feel better with this new information. The waitdroid returned with your orders - the smell of grease inviting you to indulge.

“Well he wants me to install the painting he bought on his ship,” you said, jabbing at the mush on your plate. You received his transmitted instructions earlier that morning which only reminded you of your failure.

Eli stopped mid-bite. “He wants you to come to the Chimaera? ...In person? He didn’t ask you to hand it off to a stormtrooper at the landing dock?”

“Is that unusual?”

“I’ve never seen a civilian aboard a Star Destroyer. I don’t think you’re allowed...but then again, it’s his ship, so I guess he can sort of do what he wants,” Eli conceded.

“I’ll send him a message to confirm,” You said, your heart beginning to race again. Why do I feel so...excited? You push away the thought.

“Enough about Thrawn. What’s up with you? What are you doing here? Last my parents told me you were training to be a supply officer in the Expansion Region.”

Eli sat back and sighed, not sure where to begin.

—-

“You cannot get hung up on a random guy you don’t even want to date!” Dajmita spelled out loudly as she shook you by the shoulders.

“Please don’t yell at me.”

“I’m not yelling! I’m just making sure you hear me,” she huffed. “You’re so desperate for a fuck. This isn’t some failure you need to overcome. You said yourself this guy might be ace.”

“Well why would he ask me to install the art on his ship then? Civilians aren’t normally allowed,” you countered.

“Maybe he’s just really into art and wants to maintain the artist’s original intent- I don’t know!” Dajmita threw up her arms in frustration, “Why do you even care? You don’t even like military men. If you need someone to fuck, just ask Endel. He’d definitely do it!”

“You know I can’t lead someone on like that! I think he still has feelings for me!” you turned back to the mirror to finish applying makeup, “Ok does this look like I’m not trying too hard? I want to be taken seriously as a professional but like, a hot professional.” You stepped out of the refresher clad in workers clothes.

“I mean, if that’s what you’re going for...Like a carpenter from a pornographic holo vid,” she assured you. You looked down at your top, “Is it too tight?” You tried stretching your arms up to see how much of your mid drift would be exposed. You tried bending over, too.

“Oh yeah - just do that a lot,” Dajmita purred suggestively.

——-

The Chimaera was much bigger than you had ever imagined. Several Lambda-class shuttles were docked in the landing bay where hundreds of stormtroopers and Imperial officers buzzed about their business in an orderly rhythm.

You suddenly felt very self-conscious. Your civilian clothes drew more attention than you were used to and even the officer who scanned your security clearance regarded you suspiciously as he read your destination from his data pad.

“You have an appointment with…Admiral Thrawn?” He asked incredulously.

“That’s right. I’m installing a painting in his office.” This seemed to make sense to him, but he reached for his comm for confirmation.

“Sir - There’s a...female civilian here to install a painting?”

Thrawn’s voice came through the comm, “Yes, please send her up with an escort.” Still somewhat suspiciously, the officer signaled a stormtrooper to meet you and he wordlessly lead you to a turbo lift.

You were fascinated by the cold design of the starship’s hallways. Every surface was immaculate, each crew member walking with purpose. There was almost complete silence, only the sound of murmured conversations and footsteps hung in the air. The path itself was dizzying - turn after turn after turn - you weren’t sure if you could find your way back.

Just as you began to wonder what was behind all of these sealed doors, your escort stopped at one guarded by another trooper.

“Code cylinders,” he demanded. Your guide handed him a pen-looking object and clarified, “This is only for her.” The object was inserted into a keyhole, opening the door behind him. “Go on in.”

Your escort turned and walked away, leaving you to enter Thrawn’s office alone.

The sound of clashing metal and of exertion filled the entryway. As you pushed the repulsorlift cart into the antechamber, you saw a door opened to a bright sparring room where Thrawn was combatting two large sentry droids. He expertly dodged each attack, countering with his own. You couldn’t help the warm feeling rising in your core again as you noticed his muscular arms for the first time. You imagined them pinning you to the floor as he pounded into you, a strong hand pulling your hair back.

Just as you caught yourself mid-fantasy, Thrawn noticed you and commanded the override code. The droids returned to their stations and powered down as the door hissed shut. You weren’t sure what to do next, but the door soon re-opened with a hiss and Thrawn emerged wearing his uniform jacket.

“I apologize - I thought I would have a few more moments before you arrived,” he said, fastening the cuffs on his sleeves. “Please, come in.” He ushered you through another door leading to his office. A large desk was situated in the center of the room, two reptilian sculptures flanking the display shelf behind it.

Thrawn led you through his office to an adjoining living space. “I’d like the painting to hang here. Please let me know if you need anything.”

“Th-thank you,” You shivered, realizing it was significantly colder here than in the hallway. Thrawn noticed your nipples had hardened in the cold, their outlines visible even through the layers of your shirt and bra. It was going to be difficult to concentrate today. He excused himself as you unloaded your work and began dismantling the piece’s wooden transport casing. After almost half an hour, you were able to carefully free the painting, only to realize it was too unwieldy for one person to lift.

You found Thrawn in his office, carefully studying star charts at his desk. Another fantasy intruded and clouded your vision: sitting at the edge of his desk, the holos of planets splashed against your skin, your legs spread wide as he drank in your cunt. He tweaked your nipples as you moaned in pleasure, the danger of being discovered only heightening your arousal. You breathed in deeply to ward away the thoughts.

You cleared your throat and he looked toward you.

“Could I have some help?” you asked, expecting him to call another officer or trooper to assist.

“I’m at your service,” he said to your surprise. He followed you back into the other room.

“I just need a hand lifting this onto the mounting brackets,” you explained. Thrawn situated himself on one side of the canvas and you heaved it up together, guiding its hanging wire in place. Just as it was lining up, he stole another glimpse of you. Your shirt rode up slightly as you worked and his eyes lingered on the small sliver of mid drift that was becoming more and more exposed in your exertion. With a deep breath, he fought back his primal urge to lunge.

You both stepped back to evaluate the painting’s placement. There was a long silence.

“…Is it…to your liking?”

“Yes…” he mused quietly, “Thank you…I believe I still owe you…payment.” His last word was almost a purr and you flushed as you fantasized a another meaning. Did he notice?

You followed him into his office, where he unlocked a desk drawer and pulled out a bundle of credits. He handed them to you, your fingers accidentally brushing against each other in the exchange. He saw your jaw tighten.

“I’ll be stationed on Coruscant for the next few months. There’s an exhibit on Mandalorian folk art that I think would be…educational. Would you care to join me?”

So he wasn’t going to bend you over his desk and have his way with you. Perhaps he really was only looking for a companion to discuss art with - he obviously wasn’t getting that kind of engagement from his peers. You were disappointed but not heartbroken. After all, it wasn’t like you had romantic feelings towards him. You accepted this invitation to friendship.

“I’ve been looking forward to that exhibition myself. When do you want to go?”

[luxekook]

THE SEVEN || prologue

⇥ pairing: ot7 x reader

⇥ genre: supernatural au with action, angst, smut, and (trace amounts of) fluff

⇥ summary: a series in which the reader fights to survive, attracts a powerful group of demons, and causes general mayhem in a post-apocalyptic new world

⇥ word count: 1.5k

⇥ warnings: nc17, *this fic has scenes of graphic violence*, demons, bloodshed, anarchy, general apocalyptic things, cursing, eventual poly relationship, a made-up language, hints of desire to own, brief mention of abuse, an attempt at world-building

⇥ beta reader: heathy @shadowsremedy​​ - thank u so much!!! i was holding off on beginning this fic for so long, and you really helped me move forward! uwu<3

Prologue

The world has completely gone to shit, I think to myself as my blade slices right through my opponent’s eye. The responding roar of the crowd reinforces that thought as the lifeless body slumps to the ground.

Removing my bloodied knife from the man at my feet, I stand, exhaustion kicking in after yet another adrenaline-fueled fight. Gazing out at the surrounding crowd of humans and demons, I narrow my sights on tonight’s guests of honor – the seven demons who would decide if my performance was deemed worthy enough of payment.

Raising my chin in defiance, my eyes meet those of the pompous greed demon of the Ahgase Seven. Lim Jaebeom lounges on a provisional throne flanked by his six brothers. Their combined beauty is ethereal but leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. 

How is it that creatures so prone to evil can be so lovely to look at?

After glancing briefly at each brother, I finally make eye contact with Jackson Wang, the Ahgase’s pride demon. He inclines his head with a satisfied smirk, simultaneously permitting my payment and ordering my swift dismissal.

The callous disregard of my efforts never fails to ignite a familiar burn of fury within me. I fight to the death to earn a week’s worth of food and shelter, and all I get is a fucking nod in response? Complete and utter bullshit if you ask me.

My teeth grind together as I give the slightest and stiffest bow possible in the Ahgase Seven’s general vicinity and stalk out of the Pit. Reminding myself that I actively choose this fate never really helps, given that the alternatives are equally as shit – if not more-so.

Basically, since the planet lost three-fourths of its population in the Reaping, the old capitalistic way of the world is no longer. Now, the main ways to survive deal with what you have to offer as a resource – your body, your skill, your labor, your loyalty. I choose to fight because, for me, it’s the soundest option.

My prior life had been sketchy at best. I had taught Krav Maga, a form of aggressive self-defense and reflexive fighting, to teens and young adults. I also had used Krav Maga (and other more nefarious methods) on abusive parents or guardians, bullies, or romantic partners - the very reasons my students came to my classes.

My resulting ambiguously gray background probably had influenced heaven and hell’s decisions to leave me behind. Still, killing hadn’t come easy for me in the beginning, but now it seems like second nature. In this new era, there are no rules, no moral codes, no winners, no losers. There are only survivors.

And I’ll be damned if I am not one of them.

Last year, the Reaping left us all in chaos and confusion. The supernatural had become natural. Heaven took those deemed worthy and let Hell deal with the rest. But, as it turns out, Hell was just as picky.

For a few days, demons ruthlessly reaped millions of humans and dragged them below the earth. And then the reaping stopped. The humans that remained were left with burned cities, abandoned homes and a complete absence of law. They were a ruthless bunch with questionable backgrounds and ambiguous morals. It honestly made sense that they were left behind – myself included.

The short period after the Reaping brought with it a general mayhem which resulted in looting, fires, and general destruction. The remainder of society was bare-boned, with only the richest areas having luxuries like running water and electricity. I referred to this time period – the lull before the demon Sevens took over – as the pseudo-Hunger Games. I legit had to pull a full Katniss Everdeen in order to stay alive during those two weeks.

Then, finally, the demons rose again.

The demons that rose were power-hungry and desperate to prove themselves worthy to rule over the New Earth. They looked human until you got too close and felt the negative energy that emanated from them. It's almost a built-in warning for those lower on the metaphorical food-chain not to get close to a source of potential harm.

By possessing a demon of each sin category, Sevens were able to bond together and max out their powers. Often, Sevens took on courts and consorts to siphon additional power, but my intel on demons was mostly built on speculation and rumors. The general consensus seemed to be that humans joined demon factions because of the promise of protection, food, and other resources. However, no one usually survived leaving a faction led by a Seven once they had declared fealty.

I vowed to never willingly enter into a Seven’s territory. My freedom and independence were the only things I had left to hold onto. And that was how I ended up in my current situation as a fighter in the Pit, the rough, man-made arena where fighters battle to the death for winnings while the audience bets furiously on their selected victor. No one had bet on me at first, but they learned quickly.

The Pit’s existence sprung out of desperation for distraction. Humans and demons alike needed some form of entertainment away from the monotony and death embedded within everyday life. Located within the Neutral Zone, the Pit provided humans the ability to earn a living and to make a name for themselves. Those that fought in the Pit were only lower on the human totem pole to the Pit Master and to the merchants in the Neutral Zone. Below the fighters were the scavengers, the workers, the peasants, and the lost.

Marching towards the exit gate, I nod to the next competitor to enter the arena – it might be the last I’d see of them. Pit Master Agra greets me as I step through the gate’s threshold and finally out of the public eye.

“Good work,” she forces a smile that only looks like she’s in pain, “But, next time make sure there’s more blood.”

I say nothing.

Agra takes my silence as acceptance and jerks her head at the empty hallway, indicating my second dismissal of the day. “You have one week until your next fight,” she predictably calls as I make my way down the tunnel towards my makeshift room located in the fighters’ dorms.

I wave a hand carelessly behind me in a sign of recognition. Damn, what I wouldn’t give to challenge her in the Pit.

Pausing outside my room, I struggle to unhook my necklace that held my key. The blood on my fingers still has not fully dried, and I grow increasingly frustrated. I just want to bathe, goddamnit.

“Allow me,” a deep voice purrs from behind me. I shudder as two hands suddenly brush my own away from their hold on the necklace. Warm fingers brush the nape of my neck as the sound of a slight inhale meets my ears.

Fuck, I hope this person isn’t smelling me because I am almost certain the combination of sweat and dried blood is extremely unpleasant.

“There,” the voice rasps, “All done.”

My necklace is gone from my neck, and I turn to retrieve it from whoever just assisted me.

“Oh, fuck,” I hiss, taking in the demon before me. His teal hair is wild and reminiscent of a blue flame. His black eyes are large and slanted, fixed on me with a peculiar expression I just cannot place. His clothes are expensive. I peer closer, inspecting the intricate details on his patterned top. Was that Versace? 

In this economy?

His arm extends to mine. My necklace dangles from one finger carelessly. “Here, mì shaìà (my pet).”

“My name is (y/n),” I grab the necklace and shudder when our fingers brush for a split second, “Not Mishaeya.”

The demon smiles. It’s large and boxy and completely predatory. “(Y/n). Mì shaìà. It doesn’t make a difference.”

Am I missing something? 

“Listen, demon-dude, I just killed someone like five minutes ago. Can you stop being cryptic and just tell me why you’re lurking outside my room?”

“Ah, yes,” he stalks closer to me. My back hits the door to my room. He licks his lips, “I was watching you. You are quite the fighter, little one.”

“Little?” I glance down at my thick and well-muscled self, “Mhm, okay.”

“Are you not scared of me, mì shaìà?” His hand cups my chin, thumb darting out to wipe some blood from the shallow cut across my cheek.

“Should I be?” I front like my heart isn’t beating out of my chest.

“Yes,” he smiles before sucking the droplets of my blood from his thumb. “Surely someone as exquisite as you should need protecting. I’m surprised no one owns you yet, (y/n).”

My back straightens, “No one owns me. No one ever will.”

The demon’s head tilts as he silently studies me for a few moments. He looks like he almost wants to say something before he steps back and bows. “Sleep well, mì shaìà. I will be seeing you again.”

I gape as he walks away from me. A thought strikes me. “Hey!” I call after him, “What’s your name?”

He answers without looking back or breaking his stride, “V.”

a/n: i made up Deìthi, the language that the demons use in this story. i will keep a running list of translations at the bottom of each chapter as well as putting initial translations in parentheses following the first usage of the word.

Deìthi (The Language of Demons) Translation List:

Mì shaìà - My pet

© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.

[thisartemisnevermisses]

Going Under 7/-

Going Under

Paring: Mostly Steve Rogers x Reader; little Clint Barton x Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, out of character acting, probable smutt in later chapters, sad reader, broken, sweet ending.

Summary: You work as head oversight for the Avengers. After a party and a little kiss, you start crushing on Steve. Only an event from you’re rookie years, is sabotaging the possibility of your crush to evovle into something more.

A/N: Thanks for all your likes, it’s great to recieve them! @collinsstanharbour thanks for you comments on all the chapters. Well, I thouhgt chapter 6 was long, but guess again…Almost 3100 words…. The story is evolving and soon we will arrive at the point of present time and then…

Chapter 7: Imperfection

With one swift movement you stand up, surprising the two man. Bucky and Steve look at you, you stare wide-eyed at Steve. “For how long have you been sitting there?” you ask. Steve looks dazed at you, it took a moment to register you were standing, facing him. He was stammering a reply, impatience gets the best of you and fire another question at him.

“What the fuck are you doing here. Were you eavesdropping?” Steve still lookes shocked at you, not answering your question. You cross your arms and glare at him.

“No, uh, I don't..... well.” Steve stammers, scratching the back of his neck, a red blush coloured all over his face. He has never felt so caught, out of place or guilty, a rush of emotions take over, when the guilt finally wins. Hearing your story so far makes him feel stupid and naive. He should have known better, then to believe the lies they told him.

“Well what is IT?” cocking an eyebrow, still standing defensively, starting to tap you fingers on your arm. Steve feels nervous, as if he was on trail. Exhaling deeply, he answers “Yes, I was listening to what you were telling bucky..Its just.. I wanted...”

“For how long?” you ask, shifting your weight. “How long, Steve?” draging the V in his name. “When you told Bucky about you and Clint.” Steve looks a little guilty at you. How could he let you know he was willing to listen. He was an idiot for taking so long. For doubting you, for not asking your side of the story. He let you down and know he had the price to pay. He was willing to, as long as you started trusting him again.  

“y/n, I saw your reaction in the meeting. I realised it too late. But if all off it where true, you wouldn't look the way, you were sitting in that chair.” Looking at you, trying to make eye-contact, read your emotions. How he hoped you two would reconnect. He was such a fool for letting all those lies separate you two.

 “How did I look Steve?” your voice cynical and thick with emotions. Steve starts walking towards you, with every step he takes, a characterization leaves his mouth. His eyes full of emotions and regret. With every word he speaks, your wall crumbles a little further. Stopping in front of you, he looks you in the eyes, resting his hands on your locked arms. “I’m sorry it had to get so far, before I realised your the person I always though you were. Not the person people trying to let me believe you are. Y/N, I was a fool for letting things as rumours and doubt smutter the relation we could have.” Steve tightens his grip on you, searching your eyes, do you understand what he’s trying to say. Speaking these relieving words, break you. You start sobbing uncontrollably, Bucky was the first person to hear you out, and as it turned out, Steve had listened all this time. He finally realised his mistake. Steve took you in his arms, hugging you tightly, stroking your hair. “y/n it’s okay, I want to hear the rest of your story. Lets figure this out. Make and end in all these misunderstanding. What was the next thing you wanted to tell Bucky.” Steve lets go of you and sits opposite from you. “I'm here till the end.” he tells you acknowledging.

Drying your eyes with your sleeve, you swallow and answer with a raspy voice, “The mission, I wanted to tell Bucky about the mission. Especially the one that went wrong.”

Sitting at the bar, you listen to the music, it was just as depressing as you felt. Ordering another drink you repeat the steps in your head. For this mission you went into hyperdrive, overanalyzed the situation. Making two alternatief plans, to have as low collateral as possible. What went wrong. How could there be so much collateral, killing three civilians. There had to be a reason, the Avengers trusted you and your team. Following your plan and advise. And still things went awry. You didn't get it. Where did it go wrong?

 ----------- A few hours earlier-----------

 “Overwatch, there to many people around us, we can’t solve this. Not without killing a few innocent people.” Natasha spoke through the communicator.

“Romanov, we don’t see what you see, is something wrong with the drone?” Lexi asked.

“No, all green lights are on, camera is moving with us.” Natasha answered.

“Owen, look at the dashboard. Make sure every cable and bud is as they should be.” You ordered him, pacing through the room. After the Avengers touched ground, nothing went as planned. For days there weren’t any civilians in sight and now there were. It looked like someone was forcing these people to be there.

“Captain, are you inside?” you asked Steve. “We’re inside, Wanda, Falcon take the second floor, Hawkeye the third. Be careful, let us know when you see Rumlow. Don’t engage, wait till Agent Carter and I are with you. Overwatch guide us.” Steve commands, waiting for your answer.

“We will activate the minidrones, Wanda, your drone is connected with Lexi, she will guide you and be you’re extra pair off eyes. Falcon, Callie’s drone comes with you. Avery, go with Hawkeye, keep you’re eyes open. Captain, my drone will come with you and Agent Carter. Be careful, I do not know how, but there’s something off.” You reply, what was going on.

“y/n, what do you see?” Lexi asks, looking at you. “I see nothing out of the ordinary, but it just doesn't seem right.” You comply.

“Overwatch, do you hear that?” Sam and Steve ask at the same time. “Hear what?” Callie ask. “That high….” before Sam can finish the sentence there’s a big explosion. Your drones go offline and the earpiece of Clint, Wanda, Sam and Sharon go offline. The only persons you’re connected to were Natasha and Steve. “Captain, Agent Romanov, do you copy?” asking frantically, what the fuck did just happen?

-------------------------------------

Laughs interrupted your thoughts. Looking at the couple on your left, you smile sadly to yourself. It would be nice to have someone on your side. Where you to much focused on Steve? You divided your attention evenly over the team that was in the mission. You could separate emotion from work. It was time to stop the self loathing and act like a teamleader. Drinking you’re glass empty, you decide to go back to the compound and start analyzing the mission, hopefully you could pinpoint the problem.

Entering the communications room, you see Lexi and Owen filling the papers. “He you, your back?” Lexi asks half smiling. You nod and sit at your desk.

“Owen, could you run diagnostics and e-mail them as soon as the’re ready? Lexi, I would like the calculation of the colleteral. Where are Callie and Avery?” asking the both of them while looking at your screen.

“y/n, it’s late, you’re sure you want to do this now?” Owen ask, concern al over his face. The last time he saw you like this, was when you started at the beta team.

Looking at Owen, determination in your eyes, “Yes, I want to start analyzing now. I know you’re tired. We’ve all participated in the same mission, I’m too. But as soon as you have run diagnostics you can go too sleep. I need the numbers. Where are Callie and Avery?” asking irritated you look at Lexi and Owen.

“Avery is downstairs in medbay and Callie is resting. Within two hours she will switch with me. We figured, you would want to start with analyzing as soon as possible.” Lexi glances at you, you smile back “Thank you” leaves soft your lips.

What a team, even when you had a mental breakdown, they would think with you, take the shit you throw at them. “That’s why where a team, we will find the problem y/n.” Owen says walking towards you. “So head up, boss, you’re going to figure it out.” Owen squeezes your shoulder. Letting out a loud breath, “I will, I will figure it out.”

“Well, there are a few injured within the Avengers. Wanda has a concussion, Clint a few flesh wounds and one deep cut on his side and Sam has a head wound that needs to be stitched. Steve, Sharon and Natasha have mild injuries.” Avery says while walking in, he stops in his tracks when he sees you. He squats beside you, looking you in the eye, “You did everything you could, do not blame yourself, don't carry that burden. There is something wrong. You did everything wright and were going to prove that.”Avery encourages you, you feel your eyes water. “We will” you chocke and turn back to analyzing this mission.

Hours and hours pass as you go through papers, plans and even video footage, but can't find a thing. The team takes turns sleeping, so that they can keep analyzing with you, but are to tired to go on at some point. It’s 7 in the morning when you stand alone between all the papers lay out. You lay your hands on top of your head, you can’t see it,

can't pinpoint the problem. Where the fuck did it go wrong. Where was the flaw. Deciding to grab another cup of coffee, you see a figure standing in the doorway. Turning on the lights, you see Steve standing, staring at you.

“How long have you been analyzing?” He asks, looking concerned at you. “As soon as I got back, I needed a break.” You answer not looking at him, starting to read the report for the twentieth time.

“You need sleep, you’re almost up for 24 hours.” He walks towards you, standing close, eyeing you. “What do you think?” you ask while rummaging through papers.

“I don’t know, maybe someone sabotaged this, I couldn’t think who would do that. Seeing you did everything you could, I mean it wouldn’t be wise to….” Steve stops when he sees the look in your eyes, he did it again.

“You think I sabotaged this, that I didn't do my job.” You angry interrupt Steve.

“That’s not how I meant it.” he answers standing before you. “But it’s what you mean. We're done here.” walking away from Steve, you need to sleep. Stopping in the doorway, “I need to close the office, so get out.” You snap at Steve.

“y/n, don’t be that way.” Steve pleas. “I don’t need to talk about it, as I said we're done. Captain Rogers, please go, I want to sleep.” You motion for Steve to come out of the office.

He stops in front of you, looking you in the eyes, pleading for reasoning with him. But you look away, you don’t want to discuss this with him. Feeling offended by the thought you would sabotage a mission, take it for granted that people where killed.

“y/n, I didn’t mean it that way.” Steve says one last time, his eyes soft and searching for yours. “I’m going to sleep, Captain Rogers.” You say locking the office and walking away. “y/n, wait.” Steve shouts after you, jogging your way, once he’s caught up with you, he walks beside you. Trying to continue  the argument, you stop seeing agent Carter approaching you. “Steve, let me go sleep, I’m to tired now. As soon as I’ve found something, I will contact you.”

Sharon captures the last part of your conversation, deciding to join your discussion, “Come on Steve, they did the best as they could, right?” making a snarky comment.

“I think I misunderstood you, I must be so tired, that I misunderstood you. What you mean by the best we could?” You ask, starting to shake with anger.

“You know how to use all the equipment or not. Maybe Fury overestimated your qualities as a teamleader.” Sharon smiling mockingly at you. “I think, it would be wise to let me talk to Captain Rogers alone.” Emphasizing the alone part, while trying to capture your boiling anger within your fist.

“Alone, what so you can convince him with your other qualities.” She says eyeing you, quirking an eyebrow. “Well, not that it is any of your business, but were thinking about sabotage. There’s no other option, seen that every analyzation came out positive.” You say, looking for a reaction. For a second it looked like Sharon was nervous and would come clean with something, but she recovered quickly and made a cynical comment, before walking away, “If you tell yourself this as redemption, maybe you should just accept the fact that you didn’t prep this mission as you should and failed the team.”

“Go fuck yourself. I’m going to sleep”, you yell after her, deciding your too tired and start walking towards your room. Finally reaching your room, you hear footsteps following you.

“y/n, damn it, stop. Could you just listen to me.” Steve had followed you. “What do you want now, Rogers, I’m tired, i need to clear my head and get some sleep. The problem won't solve itself.” crossing your arms, looking agitated at Steve.

“One minute,” you warn him, tapping your arm impatiently. “Okay, I wasn’t blaming you, or saying you sabotaged the mission. It feels like someone altered the conditions. Or the conditions changed during your research. I don't know, but it doesn't feel right. Somethings off." Steve explained, looking at you, trying to read your expression. 

" I don't know, but the conditions didn't changed during our research. That's one thing I know for sure." answering him, trying to stifle a yawn. “You're sure about that?” Steve said, regretting his words as soon as they left his Lips.

"You're an ass you know that. So full of yourself. You really think that I would check the conditions ones and then take that for granted. We checked the conditions daily, until you started the mission. You really think I gained my level 9 clearance with doing nothing. Just part of my job..you can.....”

Steve slams his lips against yours, pushing you into the wall. ”Would you just shut up”, he hissed between kisses. He opens the door behind you, entering the bedroom, not once  leaving your lips. Kissing you sloppy, teeth and noses colliding.

When the door closes, he captures you between the door and him. He stops for a moment, looking into your eyes, searching, is he the only one who wants this. Arguing with him, made him want you even more. For a moment insecurity gets the best of him. Your face cupped in his hands, you look at him, trying to read his face. His eyes were stormy and dark, something you weren’t used from the super soldier.

“Steve, I..” you start, he covers your mouth with another hungry kiss. Responding immediately, resting your arms in his neck. Likking your bottomlip for entrance, you open your mouth with a low moan. His body hard against yours. God, how he wanted this for so long. At the party he made a mistake, he won't do that again. It was foolish to apologize for being attracted to you. It was torture working with you, being so close, without being able to touch you. His hands rome over your body, one hand stopping at the small of your back, the other resting in the hem of your neck.

“y/n” he whispers against your lips, breathing heavy against your mouth. “I wasn’t accusing you of sabotaging, anything, nor judging your skills as analyzer," Steve pants his head resting against yours.

Sighed you walk away from Steve, “You had to ruin the moment, didn’t you.” Steve turns, his hands on his hips, “What do you mean by that?” he looks at you, still recovering from your makeout session. “What I mean is..” You get interrupted with a knock on the door. “y/n, you in there? Are you sleeping?” Lexi asks.

“I was Lexi,” you lie, questioningly looking at Steve, mouthing a what towards him.

“Something came to my mind, I wanted to check it with you.” She says against the door. “I’ll be with you in five. You can go to the office, I will join you. I need to get dressed.” You lie again. Once you hear Lexi’s footsteps receding, you turn towards Steve.

“It’s time you get out,” walking towards your door, opening it for Steve. “y/n,” Steve sighs, “lets talk about all of this, what’s happening between us. Come on, don’t do this.” Steve raises his hands in frustration.

“I’m not doing, anything, you’re doing it. So there you go, go think about it and make a fucking decision.” As if your voice isn’t showing how angry you are, you slam the door in Steve’s face. You stare for a moment at the door, touching your red, swollen lips. What were you doing, was it in the heat of the moment? Either way it felt so good.

Bucky looked at the both of you, a crimson blush on both of your faces. That kiss was full of frustration and need. If you hadn’t been interrupted by Callie, who knows what would have happened. Maybe you would have had the greatest sex and things wouldn’t have turned out this way.

“What did Callie find?” Steve asks you, he still had the feeling that something was off and it wasn’t only this mission. He had the feeling that it was part of a bigger picture.