#maybe give your teammate drs at least so he can hang with you...... youre not catching norris

[slythereen]

it's one thing to let carlos fight charles instead of asking him to defend his polesitter teammate but TO STRAIGHT UP GIVE TEAM ORDERS? FUCK THIS TEAMMMM

[jostepherjoestar]

Maybe Jotaro, Risotto, Prosciutto, Bruno and Leone friendship HCs with a fem friend thats llike your generic dumbass but they are just like a soft dumbass, she is just too cute to get mad at no matter how stupid she is. So basically a smol sweet dumbass that just radiate baby energy. Like she just runs up to them saying she want to show them something cool and its just a pretty rock but she looks so happy xjsbkss 💖

Pure of heart, dumb of ass fem!friend with Jotaro, Risotto, Prosciutto, Bruno and Abbacchio HC’s

sfw // fem reader

lemme just say, reader is baby and that’s valid 🥰this is so adorably pure ugh ya done killed me anon 🥺💖✨(can very much relate tho, glad my friends put up with my dumb antics)

Jotaro:

“Why am I friends with you again? Yare yare...” A phrase you’ll hear every time you’re hanging out with this tall bastard. He’ll tease you for being a bit of a dumbass but is incredibly drawn to how kind, sweet and absolutely thoughtful you are.

You remind him of Josuke and Okuyasu which only makes him like you even more. And the added cuteness-factor made him admit to himself he does indeed love cute things, no matter how adamantly he denies it to you.

His favourite thing to do is bring you along to the beach for field research, knowing just how wide eyed and giddy you get when you’re allowed to collect shells and rocks or even poke a jellyfish. You seem very good at spotting irregularities in your surroundings, making quite the good assistant to Dr. Kujo.

You’re even allowed to help with lab research, studying petri dishes filled with algae as you excitedly point out a very important detail he hadn’t noticed yet, too tired from working such long hours. Sometimes you’re quite the genius without even trying.

More than anything he loves the amount of lightness you bring to his life, his studies and general headspace take a large toll on him. Any relief is a welcome one.

He’ll often find himself smiling at the thought of hanging out again, staring at the collection of trinkets he keeps in a cute little Hello Kitty box you once gave him, which rests on his nightstand as a reminder that it can’t hurt to adapt your lifestyle of mindless giddy; even just the tiniest bit.

Risotto:

Being close friends with Risotto seems a bit impossible without being in his squad, he’s very insistent at keeping outsiders of Passione more than an arm-length away. Good thing that the stoic man is your capo, phew!

He’s apprehensive at first, not really sure why the soft round pebble you brought him reminded you of the man as he studied the mineral, admiring its softness. “It’s like you! Soft and worn down, but very sturdy and unbreakable.” smiling sweetly at him, excitedly awaiting a response.

What was this new feeling of being appreciated and cared for? Risotto’s never really experienced a friendship so pure. He’ll quietly thank you for the pebble and keeps it on his desk, staring in awe as he’s reminded of your kind words every time he spots it.

He knows the others like to tease you for not always being aware of general human knowledge, shooting them an intense glare as a warning to keep any rude comments or jokes to themselves.

Your friendship consists of him mostly listening to you, quietly taking in all the stories you divulge- so full of excitement, telling him facts you picked up somewhere; the source of these often containing varying levels of credibility. He won’t correct you though. (unless it’s something that might actually endanger you)

He values your friendship so.much. He’s not used to being treated so kindly, receiving random gifts, being praised for a job well done, having someone who doesn’t judge him in the slightest. He’ll do whatever he needs to keep you safe, from others and yourself, along with trying to return your kindness and care. (he tries his best and it’s so cute)

(you guys hold hands for safety when you’re out in the city... just saying, it’s adorable)

Prosciutto:

Prosciutto has a chronic case of “caring older brother disease”. Will need to hold himself back from tying your shoelaces for you, the man knows you can do it it yourself but it’s just taking sooo long.

Just like Risotto, you’d have to be a team member to get close to him in any way. Good thing he recruited you ;)

It’s a bit hard to make him open up about anything personal. You feel like he knows everything about you, while you barely know a thing. When he sees your pouty lip and begging gaze that is way too cute to deny, he’ll cave. Perhaps finally realising it’s alright to lean on others.

He’ll still struggle with continuing the openness, but find relief in your loyalty and understanding. The way you intently listen to his troubles, there to hold his hand if he ever needs it, it makes his heart hurt to know how sweet and gentle you are.

Will keep you and Pesci separate during missions, he’s already getting a migraine from imaging everything that could go wrong without his guidance.

For someone who’s a little more on the dense side, you make up for it in emotional intelligence. Whenever you see how stressed he tends to get, eye twitching without even realising while his shoulders hunch together in discomfort, you come over to hug him. It’s something he had to get used to, the small gesture always calming him down enough to keep going.

Does not appreciate you slipping cute trinkets in his suit pocket. Especially not after finding a snail that one time. You’ve been forbidden from leaving pocket gifts since the incident.

Bruno:

It concerns Bruno just how clueless you can be from time to time. That one time they almost left you behind on a busy station with no cellphone because you found a coin on the ground made him realise you need some extra supervision.

He’s not the type to hold you back from doing things that are guaranteed to result in disaster (unless it’s literally deadly), he wants you to experience the consequences of your own actions.

You do make him hold back his laughter when you try out a stupid idea you know has failed in the past, but change your methods slightly to hope for better results. And you know what? Now he’s curious too.

The man has a weird sense of humour that sometimes even surprises you. He’ll copy your habit of picking up strange trinkets or rocks and asks you to compare findings with him. Like trading marbles, he’ll barter with a smirk.

“Mhh, if you give me that cute shell and that pointy rock... I’ll give you this keychain.” His alluring offer making you question if you’re getting swindled or not. “Hey! That shell is at least worth two stickers!” He’ll heartily laugh at your reply, a mischievous smile while thinking over the trade. “Ok, two stickers and a pebble then.”

With a firm handshake the deal goes through. The rest of the gang never knows how to respond, staring in amazement as their grown-ass capo barters with their grown-ass teammate. He loves being silly with you and forgetting all the pressures of life for just a moment.

Bruno takes his time opening up to you, but finds your presence so comforting it becomes very easy to trust you. As a vital part of his team he finds it important to be able to lean on each other for support and is glad you offer him just as much trust and loyalty.

Abbacchio:

Will never admit he can’t live without you anymore. You’ve become the shining beacon of assumed happiness the man never thought existed. He knows you won’t always be go-lucky and have your own troubles and struggles but admires how you handle them.

Don’t get me wrong, he’ll still gladly tease you for your occasional (well, more like frequent) stupidity. He’ll let you know with a big huff you should smarten up; “Read a book that doesn’t have pictures in it for once.”

He’ll be the first to correct any wrong info you’ve been given, unless he thinks it’s funny. Like when Mista made you believe you needed to order dessert at Libeccio or they’ll kick you out for breaking their beloved rule. It’s only when he saw the panic in your eyes when you finished your main course one day -too full for any sweets to come- that he assured you it was a dumb joke. (he’ll put all the blame on Mista)

Abbacchio seems to tether to people who have a positive influence on him without even realising, it won’t be obvious to him, but just like with his loyalty and admiration for Bruno, he’ll make sure you know it once he finds out.

Not that it’s a bad thing, his need to cling to anything that might help him stay afloat just needs to stay healthy. You didn’t even realise your effect on him, you were too busy trying to figure out a way to turn that scowl into that smirk.

After gifting him a handmade friendship bracelet that had the shortened versions of your names spelled on it, he hugged you. So tightly it was suffocating, you were shocked since he’s never been the touchy type. “Leone! I can’t breathe...” He’ll let go after the complaint but that look on his face will never leave your memory. The face of being loved unconditionally by choice, no matter how unworthy he might think himself of it.

[jinxedpanda4life]

Criminal Investigator AU HC

I would first like to start off by saying thank you to everyone. 

I honestly did not expect the response I got to my Damirae Hospital AU HC list. 

When I first woke up and checked tumblr ~13 hours after posting I had a holy shit moment. 

I felt powerful, should I? Probably not. 

But! Since I am noticing a lack of AUs in the fandom, whether on Tumblr, AO3 or FanFiction.net, whatever AU comes to my mind I shall jot down some hcs for! 

Thank you all once again!

(Also trying format changes for easy reading)

(Also Also, I am thinking the story is less fluid but more episodic)

Let’s get started:

- So I’m thinking this is some FBI, SVU, and FBI BAU mixture or whatever. Basically all the great shows we know in love shoved together. From Bones to Criminal Minds and everything in between.

- Special Agent (Dr.) Raven Roth is a lead interrogator and is the resident psych consult. 

She’s been educated in interrogation, behavioral science, psychology, forensic pathology, and criminology. 

She has combat training (hand to hand), she carries (for her job) a gun and at all times has a knife/dagger on her person (people have stopped trying to figure out where she keeps them). 

Her father was/is crime boss T. Trigon who is currently imprisoned. 

Was born in the states but fled with her mother to Romania when she was a newborn.

When Trigon found them he killed Arella and took Raven, she was abut 9 - 10 years old.

She took her mother’s last name when she turned 18. 

Knows two languages besides English; French, Romanian, Romani (various dialects but knows multiple), Greek and Latin

On more than one occasion some goon of her father’s tries to recruit her, every time she kicks their ass. (Damian was there for the most recent (he was still green though))

Lives by herself in a decent sized apartment, has a gun safe (gun safety is important!), a cat (Nevermore), and is a regular at a 24/7 bookstore &/ cafe

Can usually be found wearing some kind of jacket, sweater, cardigan

She once helped save some kids (Melvin, Tommy & Teether) and is now their surrogate aunt, she has photos of them at her desk @ work. (Damian assumes/ed that they were her kids)

She also, when she can, hangs out and babysits them on occasion.

Raven is part of a team consisting of Dick Grayson (unit leader), Kori Anders, Garfield Logan, Jaime Reyes, and very recently Damian Wayne 

- Special Agent Damian Wayne is a lead investigator (he is still a bit fresh to the unit), translator, sniper and combat coordinator

He’s been educated in martial arts, explosives, hand to hand combat, close range combat, and combat (basically he knows how to kill you 9 ways to Sunday), also, behavioral science, computer science, criminology, linguistics and language. 

He can easily translate (into English): Arabic, Mandarin Chinese, Russian, Hindi, Bengali, French, Polish, German, Spanish, Portuguese, he can also learn any language you put in front of him and know the basics within a day

(Having lived in many places around the world he needed to be able to speak and understand in order to survive) (wow dramatic much?)

His father is currently the director (or deputy director, whatever floats ya boat) of the FBI.

His mother was essentially a secret agent who worked for various agencies around the globe. (deceased)

His grandfather was the leader of a, um, well to be honest, terrorist agency. (deceased)

Was sent to live with his father when he was 15 (when his mother died) and has been in the states ever since

Lives alone, he has an upscale apartment that he truthfully spends little time in, has multiple locations in the home where various weapons are stored, his place has a very cold atmosphere

Is either in proper work attire or in work out clothing, there is no in between

Tries and fails not to take work home with him

He sees a therapist (who says he should probably try investing in relationships with the people at his job)

His only “friend” (he hates calling him that, more like close acquaintance) is Jonathan Kent who was in his class at the FBI Academy, Jon works in a white collar crime department in Metropolis

The only person he actually kind of sort of doesn’t dislike is in fact Raven Roth, she’s a no bull shit person, he likes that

He may know Grayson because of how he’s Bruce’s kind of son but it does not mean he likes him

He finds Logan annoying as all hell, even if he is somewhat useful

He picked a fight with Reyes first day and regretted it (he will never admit that), he respects him

Anders is overly friendly in his opinion, kind of acts like a secretary with all that positivity and grates his nerves, he tolerates her

(Unlike last time I am not going in detail about the rest of the team, this will be brief)

- Supervisory Special Agent Dick Grayson (Unit Chief) is basically Dick Grayson with a big fancy title but all the same skills

He is also obsessed with Slade Wilson and Red X (who is Jason in this)

- Supervisory Special Agent Kori Anders is a lead investigator and is also a go to for undercover work

- Special Agent Garfield Logan is a lead interrogator, is head of the unit’s K-9 unit and kind of has a thing for Roth (which she does not reciprocate) 

- Special Agent Jaime Reyes is a tactical analyst, tech analyst and is head of the unit’s SWAT team, he does not do well with talking with people, or change

The Scarab is a computing program that Jaime created himself

STORY START:

- When Damian first joins the team there is another member, Special Agent Terra Markov, she is revealed as a sleeper agent but she aligns herself with the team and sadly is shot and killed in a fire fight

- A couple weeks after Agent Markov’s death everyone is talking about what they are doing for an upcoming holiday, Damian says probably nothing, Raven invites him to spend it with her and her “niece” and “nephews,” he declines

- About a day after the holiday Damian is home looking through case files when someone knocks on his door

-- It is Raven. He asks how she knew where he lived, she says she asked Dick, she also says that she knows how it feels to be alone and that he may be insufferable but it doesn’t mean he can’t have a friend

-- His response is saying he isn’t the kind to make friends with co workers

-- “I’m not asking to be your friend Damian, I am asking you to be his,” She reveals a small black great dane puppy “I know that other people aren’t really your thing, but having someone in your corner and waiting for you is always nice, even if it isn’t human.”

-- Damian invites her in, names the dog Titus and thanks her

-- “Just make sure no one tries to kidnap and kill you, we don’t need you to go full blown John Wick.” Damian has no idea who that is. Raven tells him it is an action movie series that he should watch. She leaves. He does watch them that night with Titus on his lap. (after having gone to the local pet supply store to get everything he needs) The action is inaccurate but he enjoyed the movies none the less, and decides that he probably would go into John Wick mode if someone hurt Titus.

- SA Roth and SA Wayne are sent to a high security federal prison to interrogate a prisoner, who refuses to speak

-- When they get into the interview room the prisoner does start to speak, but not in English and not in a language Damian is fluent in

-- Raven on the other hand immediately responds to the prisoner (shocking the prisoner and Damian) “He is speaking Romani though not the dialect of those overseas, he learned it here.” 

-- Damian is fascinated by it and they are essentially switching roles the entire time

-- They leave having successfully interviewing the prisoner, and Raven leaves behind a written list of common words in Romani so that they can possibly communicate with the prisoner better

-- As soon as they are on the plane back Damian asks her a myriad of questions from “How many languages do you know?” to “When did you learn that?” and even “Are you a spy? Sleeper agent? Part of a terrorist cell?”

-- “Not as many as you, when I was a child, if I was part of any of that you wouldn’t be asking.” The rest of the trip is spent with her teaching him Romani and even some Romanian

- Dick & Kori eventually get together and after a while they break up. Kori takes some vacation time. At the same Dick has been temporarily reassigned to another unit.

-- Chaos ensues

-- Garfield thinks he should be the interim unit chief, Jaime thinks the same, as does, you guessed it, Damian (Raven doesn’t want to she is comfortable with her role on the team)

-- In the end they are assigned an interim unit chief, SSA Jason Todd, who usually works overseas on covert op missions (not gonna lie this could easily flow into a Jayrae thing)

-- Everyone kind of falls into line, except Damian, Damian doesn’t like him for two reasons

1) He doesn’t act serious about the job 24/7

2) He has been flirting and hitting on Raven the moment he stepped into their sector 

-- Damian hates the names he gives her; “Little Bird,” “Sunshine,” “Princess,” “Rae,” (no one calls her Rae, not even Garfield, at least not after the incident) etc.

-- (Little does Damian know, Jason and Raven have worked together before and are actually friends)

-- This all comes to a head when Damian and Jason are the only ones still in the office after a tiring case.

          “You shouldn’t do that you know.”

           “Do what? All I am doing right now is contemplating where Grayson                    keeps the liquor.”

           “Call Raven all those names, she doesn’t like it.”

           “Really? Because if you haven’t noticed she hasn’t exactly asked me to                stop.”

           “She gets uncomfortable, maybe not to the extent of asking you to stop,              but she tenses up and her body language becomes slightly more                        agitated.”

          “You seem to pay a lot of attention in how she reacts to thinks baby brat.             Seems to me that you like her.”

           “Of course I like her, she is a good friend and reliable teammate.”

           “No, you like like her.”

           “That presumption is juvenile.”

           “But you don’t deny it.”

           “Tch.”

-- If anything after that conversation Jason seems to doubled his advances. Which confuses both Damian and Raven. Damian because it is inappropriate and HR will be hearing about this. Raven because she was under the assumption that she and Jason were just friends. (Jason actually does have genuine intentions but is like 60% just egging Damian on)

-- Eventually (far too long for Damian’s tastes), both Dick and Kori return. At first it is sooooooo awkward. Like mom and dad divorced have shared custody but don’t hate each other but also cannot look each other in the eye. ((Was that a mouthful? Good)) No one can really look at each other the same? Though they do have a meeting to sort it out, get everything out in the open.

- Raven’s annual kidnapping/attempt to convert her/torture comes almost exactly one year after Damian joined the team (this is his 2nd time dealing with this)

-- This time Damian is prepared. By prepared I mean Raven doesn’t even leave her apartment before she is taken to safety. 

    “Damian what is going on?”

    “Christmas came early this year that’s what.”

    “Christmas? What in gods name are you talking about.”

    “God has no dealings in this matter.”

    “You do realize you are sounding like a bad action movie? It is not even 6 am and I am in your car going somewhere, I have had little to no sleep and I am barely dressed. What is going on?” Damian hadn’t payed attention to what clothing Raven was wearing. His mind was on one goal. Find Raven, keep Raven safe. His eyes glanced off the road enough to realize she was indeed not properly dressed. Her body was merely adorned with an oversized tee-shirt, tiny barely there shorts and a pair of fluffy socks.

    “I apologize, it appears in my haste I did not leave you time to properly clothe yourself. As to why you are here, it seems your father and his people have shortened their waiting time this year from one year to a little more than ten months.” Ravens hands fisted her shirt. “This time I was prepared,” last time he was still new to everything, last time he made mistakes, this time there will be no mistakes. “Since our last encounter with your demon, so to speak, I have been setting in place precautions and safety measures to ensure Nevermore and yours’ safety. I have also been tracking the movements of his big players. If any came close I would mark it down. Multiple are entering the city at this moment. Seeing as you we taken last time I have made plans to ensure that will not happen again.” The car made a snap turn down an unfamiliar street pulling Raven from her clouded gaze.

    “So I am going to be okay this time?” Her voice was faint and restraining against hope.

    “You’re going to be okay.” His hand lightly held hers. Only to stop the shaking, they told themselves, only to make everything better. “Nevermore is with Titus at my place being watched by a friend of mine. I have already walked Grayson through everything we will not be expected at work this week, but we can work remotely.”

     “We?”

     “I’m not going to leave you. Ever.”

-- ((Sorry for the blocks of text))

-- As Raven finds out they are at one of Damian’s safe houses. The one least likely to be tied to her. It is fully stocked with food, has security cameras and if needed weapons. The only problem is that the only clothes there are Damians.

    “Thought of everything huh?”

     “I was following their pattern, I expected to have more time to acquire clothing for you.” (he was looking away and blushing, you cannot tell me he wasn’t)

-- Raven just resigns herself to wearing Damian’s clothes, yes his brain does stop working for a hot second when he sees her in only his clothes.

-- All attempts to try and retrieve codename: Gem of Scath are foiled (like some good math)

-- So many bonding moments happen. Cuddling (pure accident *rolls eyes*), eating together, inside jokes, etc. At one point Damian answers her phone (he disabled and disconnected the tracer) to one of the mob guys after them.

    “Hello?”

     “You can hide the gem but we will find her.”

     “I’m sorry, is there a jewel you are looking for? I don’t think I have and any jewels that I am coveting.”

     “We know you are with her! It is but a matter of time until we collect her.”

     “I hope you do eventually find whatever you are looking for sir, but I haven’t the slightest idea the gem you speak of. If you could give me a physical description? Is it a ruby, diamond, onyx? Is it round or more of a pear shape?”

    “...”

    “Well, I will look for it here, but I do not believe I possess what you speak of. Will you give me your number so I can call you back?” (The line cuts dead, and Raven can be seen laughing in the background, the phone was on speaker)

-- Once the team tracks down, arrests and interrogates all of the parties working for Trigon; Raven and Nevermore can go home. Though both are reluctant in their own way. Nevermore has grown attached to Titus, and Raven well Raven has feelings. Sadly, as Raven knows, feelings are dangerous to have in their line of work. 

-- Look at Dick and Kori they were together and then they fell apart and the team almost imploded.

-- What about Trigon if he finds out about Damian and how she feels towards him? What kind of danger will he be in then?

-- Like all of her feelings Raven puts them in a box and locks the box away. Not just figuratively, in her safe there is a box with: post its, torn papers, journals, etc. That box has a lock on it. Whenever she has a new feeling that she cannot ignore, like her feelings towards Special Agent Wayne, she takes out the box and writes her feelings down. They can range from a single sentence to pages worth. (Her feelings towards Damian fill a small notebook she has on hand). Once she has written all of her feelings out she places them in the box, locks said box and then places the locked box in her safe, which she then locks.

-- Is this a healthy way to cope with her feelings? Maybe not. But, it is way better than how Damian deals with his. Violence. Also art but violence comes first.

- At this point both Damian and Raven have caught the feelings (highly contagious I hear), which makes this a little awkward and a little not awkward. For one everyone but Raven knows how Damian feels towards her. He does things for her and with her that no one else gets the privilege to.

-- To list a few:

--- He brings her tea whenever he gets himself coffee or tea

--- He talks to her about what he does outside of work, even about his kind of friend definitely not enemy, Jon.

--- They socialize outside of work. Watching bad movies (some of them are not that bad), going to the park with Titus (they once got Nevermore in a leash and walked her), meeting each other before and after work to get breakfast or dinner.

--- He doesn’t glare at her

--- He allows physical contact between the two

--- He worries about her (hello he created an entire plan so that she wouldn’t get kidnapped, with contingencies and everything, garfield would be lucky to get a plan)

--- His eyes light up when she talks, or enters a room, or you know exists in his vicinity

--- He actually smiles around her (Dick caught him smiling once at Raven and he though Damian was having a stroke)

-- Even though everyone knows Damian likes Raven, very few know that Raven likes Damian back. (this only includes; Kori, Dick, Jason, Titus, Nevermore, and Melvin) She does do certain things that give herself away just like Damian.

--The list:

--- When Damian gets frustrated or angry she puts a hand on his arm, or holds his hand

--- She laughs at things he does (light chuckles, or little giggles)

--- She will talk to him about his interests and actively tries to have conversations with him about things unrelated to work.

--- She blushes when he does something unexpected (like a compliment)((Mostly she tries to hide it until he isn’t looking at her))(((Kori has caught the blush before)))

-- Luckily for them it does not take some cliche ‘One suddenly becomes in danger and the other one saves them only to be close to death and then they admit their love for one another and promise to go on a date when the other is healed’ situation. 

-- Damian actually asks Raven out after being tipped of by Jason and Dick that she may like him back. Damian finds out when they have days off at the same time and asks her while leaving work.

   “Raven, you have this weekend off correct?”

   “Yeah I do. I wasn’t planning on doing anything though. Did you have something in mind?”

    “Um, yeah, heh, I was wondering if you would do me the pleasure of going to dinner with me tomorrow.” *Awkwardly rubs back of neck*

    “Like a date or two friends going to dinner?” *Thinks she sounds harsh* “I am honestly fine with either since we are friends.” *nervous smile*

     “Like a date if that is okay with you of course.”

     “Yeah, yeah totally that is totally okay with me.” *Starts sounding like a teenage girl who only knows about 10 words, because she’s nervous*

      “Good, I’ll be by your place around 1830, if that is okay?” *nerve central, the central nervous system could never*

       “Yup that is totally fine with me.”

       “Great.”

       “Good.” The elevator opens in the knick of time.

       “See you tomorrow evening Agent Roth. Have a good night.”

        “You too, Agent Wayne, you too.”

-- When Damian does pick her up he feels like his brain is going to explode. She looks absolutely breathtaking. This is just like all the other times they’ve gone to dinner, except this restaurant is slightly fancier and they are on a date.

-- Raven feels as though all her emotions are leaking out at once, she has no idea what she is doing.

-- In the end they have a good time and decide to do it again. Damian does bring up that all of the breakfasts and dinners they regularly do could now be considered dates. Raven does not oppose that switch at all.

- Fast forward a handful of years (like 3?), Damian and Raven are moved in together (Nevermore and Titus are happy about this, they even allow the humans to adopt another pet, a cat named Alfred). Damian is now Supervisory Special Agent Wayne and is in charge of their unit. Raven has retired from field work and now works at the FBI academy and at Virginia State University. In about 6 months Damian is going to propose and Raven will say yes. Their wedding will be small but happy and full of life.

Once again I would like to thank everyone and all the support the previous post got.

Like last time if anything is disjointed, out of place or seems wrong, please go ahead and tell me. I have been working on this since the last one, but have finally had the time to finish it.

I hope the new year will bring us all some good. Possibly more head canons to come.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Just A Taste

Characters: Spencer Reid x reader, minor characters

Word Count: 2,925

Warnings: talk of men abusing their female partners (very implicitly), smut, oral (female recieving), fingering, a bit of dom!spencer

request by @theitcaramelchick​: Okay but imagine Reid interrogating a suspect and you, an assistant at the BAU office, happen to hear how domineering he is with them and you get all hot and bothered? Jesus. 🥵 And the way he would make the suspect tell him stuff. ...Could you do a one shot with this?

Summary: You assist Spencer with an interrogation despite having no experience with it all. Turns out, there is a reason why Spencer chose you, and it’s not all for work.

Squares Filled: office sex for @cmkinkbingo // free space for @cmbingo​

Author’s Note: If you have any requests, please send them in! this is unbeta’d and every mistake is all on me.

Feedback the glue that holds my writing together

Tags at the bottom

For the first time in… ever… you’re going to assist the one and only Dr. Spencer Reid in an interrogation room with a real criminal. You’re only an office assistant, but they wanted you to be in there with him. You know nothing about how to talk to criminals or where to even begin, but they wouldn’t take no for an answer. You don’t even know what you would do in this interview, but you’re not going to question it. This is your chance to prove you belong with the rest of the BAU.

Your dream is to be a profiler that catches bad guys. If you can see how they think during this interrogation, then maybe you can start to work on your own profile. While you’re very nervous to be in this interrogation room, you’re more worried to be in that room with Spencer. It’s not that you’re worried for how bad you might be in front of him, you’re afraid he will figure out your feelings for him. He’s the most talked BAU agent on your floor. He’s so smart, innovated, talented, and very handsome.

His brown eyes can be so soft and caring, but can also turn hard and threatening in a moment’s notice. How he hasn’t landed himself a girlfriend yet is beyond you, but you’re glad he hasn’t. Him being available makes you less guilty for the thoughts you have about him. He’s tall, lean, has curly hair that you really want to tug, and he has a habit of biting and licking those damn lips. He’s definitely been the center of far too many fantasies you relive over and over again.

Your office is one floor below the BAU team. You’re best behind a computer, but you’re trying hard to prove yourself worthy enough to be a profiler. Because you’re great with a computer, your best friend is Penelope. When the team is away, you like to go to her office and hang with her when she’s not assisting her team. You use her to gather intel on the rest of the team, and you’ve learned the following details:

Rossi loves to drink. He has a very impressive collection of old alcohol that he doesn’t really use all that often, but always loves to show off. Hotch loves his son, and would do just about anything for him. One year, Jack dressed up as his father for Halloween. You thought that was the best thing ever. While Emily isn’t on the team anymore, Penlelope does talk about how brave and selfless she is. She’s saved the other teammates in more ways than one.

JJ has been through so much; not only as a mother but as an agent. She’s suffered the most, but she works the hardest. Derek is the muscle of the team, and Penelope has said some raunchy stuff that you’d rather not repeat. Last, but certainly not least, Spencer. He’s had a kind of serious girlfriend, Maeve, but she ended up dying right in front of him. He’s been through a lot as well, but he won’t ever give up on helping people. He’s really great with kids, and he is definitely husband material. Even Penelope is surprised how Spencer hasn’t settled down by now.

Fine by you, as long as you get a piece of him at some point.

It’s hard to put yourself out there for a man like him because if he somehow rejected you, then you won’t be able to recover from that. You don’t want to be one of those women who centers her world around some guy, but Spencer is just so special that you wouldn’t bounce back by a rejection from him. You’ve voiced your thoughts and opinions to Penelope, and as far as you know, she’s kept all those opinions to herself.

Now you have to work with the guy you are already nervous to be around. No one told you why they wanted you in there with him, but it’s not like you’re going to complain. You head up to the floor above you where Spencer is waiting for you. Once he sees you, he heads over to you. Your heart pounds just a bit faster, and your breath comes out a bit shakier. You try to keep your complexion the same color, but you know you’ve revealed how pink they are.

“Are you okay? Do you need a minute?” he asks.

“What do you mean?”

“Your cheeks are flushed. Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. I’m just a bit nervous. I’ve never done anything like this before. I don’t know why I’m even here,” you chuckle nervously.

“You’re going to be fine. I promise.”

“Why am I here, Spencer?”

“I asked for you.”

He leaves your side without another word, and you follow him to the interrogation room. The unsub they caught, Frank Bishop, sits inside the room silently. From what you’ve heard about this guy, he’s killed half a dozen men. The BAU doesn’t know where he’s buried them, and they have to get him to confess to their murders as well as their locations. You’ve seen some terrible people, but he is on your radar.

First and foremost, this man is accused of killing men who were physically and emotionally abusive towards their wives or girlfriends. He sees himself as some sort of God or savoir in the eyes of these women. Not that you agree with his method, but these women aren’t suffering anymore. You’re actually nervous to talk to a man like him because of the person you are.

Yes, you’re a submissive. Everyone who meets you knows this. You don’t broadcast it, but it’s all in the way you present yourself. You’re also showing signs of nervousness, you rarely say no to people in fear of what they would do to you if you did, and all your friends are dominants. They just embrace life and want you to do the same. You’ve done some stupid shit in your day because of them, but your life wouldn’t be what it is now if you didn’t have them in your life.

Spencer gives you one last look before entering the room. Frank’s head pops up, and he straightens when he sees you. He must have seen the way you’re presenting yourself because he can’t take his eyes off you.

“Don’t look at her, look at me. Tell me where you buried those five men,” Spencer demands.

Seeing him like this is putting you back into your late night fantasies. One thing you never considered is the way he is with hardened criminals. He can get so threatening that sends a heat sparking up your core. You push your thighs together to relieve some tension, and you cross your arms loosely.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. What five men?” he asks and smiles at you.

The way he smiles makes you nervous, and you begin to bounce your leg aimlessly. Frank likes how nervous you are, so you try to keep it under control.

"Don't waste my time here. Where are they?" Spencer asks again.

The man doesn't answer. All he does is stare at you. Your leg bounces faster so that's the only thing you can hear besides the ticking of the clock in the room.

"Stop bouncing your leg," Spencer demands.

He puts his hand on your thigh to stop you himself and that doesn't go unnoticed by Frank. You immediately stop what you're doing and look at Spencer with wide eyes. Once he knows you won't do it again, he takes his hand away.

You wish he hadn't.

"We know you stalked and killed men who abused their partners. They'd be somewhere where you can visit and continue their humiliation. You wouldn't want a proper burial for them, would you?"

"I didn't kill anyone else besides Jack Harmer."

"Yeah, that's because we caught you in the act. We know you did it. We found traces of your DNA in their houses."

"Doesn't mean I killed them."

The tension in the room thickens, and you feel trapped. You can't go anywhere, you haven't said a single word since you got here, and all Frank has done is stare at you. You'd leave, but you're afraid Spencer is just going to yell at you. You knew he wouldn't, but your anxiety doesn't know that. Because you feel trapped, you result in biting your nails. It's one of the things you do when you don't know what to do. However, as soon as you put your thumb between your teeth, Spencer swats your hand away.

"Don't bite your nails," he orders.

Why is he being like this? He is never this aggressive towards people—or that's what Penelope told you.

"Why don't you let her do what she wants?" Frank asks.

"Is that what you told Jason Hurley, Jared Bush, Harold Jenkins, Bailey Pickett, and Cody Campbell?"

"Who?" Frank smirks.

You shrink back into your seat because this interrogation can literally take a number of turns. Spencer looks at you with fire in his eyes, and you actually became scared at the thought of what he might do to you.

"Sit up straight. We're in a goddamn interrogation. If you can't handle that, then why are you even here?" he snaps.

Okay, you have no idea why he's treating you like this. Is it all for show, or does he really think he can boss you around like that? Of course, you're not going to say anything to him about it, but that doesn't mean you won't complain to Penny about this.

"Leave her alone! Who do you think you are treating her that way? Jason, Jared, and Harold all thought they could get away with treating their women like that. It's why I threw their bodies in the lake behind my house. Now, don't get me started on Bailey and Cody." Frank blew up.

He confessed to all five murders including revealing where their bodies were located. It wasn't long before you were able to leave. However, you didn't get very far because Spencer was pulling you into the nearest empty office.

"Look, I'm sorry for how I treated you there. Frank looked for men who "bossed" their partners around. I figured if I did that to you, he would reveal where he hid those bodies."

You knew Spencer was one of the good ones.

"You could have just told me. I would have played along."

"Your reaction needed to be real. I chose you because I know you're a submissive. I needed all of it to be real."

"How did you know that?"

"Besides how you acted today... Penelope told me."

"She what?"

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. Though, that's the other reason why I picked you."

"Which is?"

You meant to say that accusingly, but it came out in a breathy whisper.

"You're attracted to me. I need that attraction to be real," he reveals. You want to deny it, but your brain just isn't cooperating. So, he continues when he sees you wanting to deny it. "I knew it was true when you came up this morning. I asked you if you were okay because your cheeks were pink. They were like that because of me. I'm sure your heart started pumping as well. The next sign was in the interrogation room. You were rubbing your thighs together because of me. Should I continue?"

Goddamn, the man really knew how to sweet talk you. You could deny it, but what would the point be? He already knows your feelings. The other option is to come clean and hope he doesn't reject you.

"What are you going to do if what you said is true?” you wonder.

He takes three large steps toward you, and you, purely out of intimidation, take five much smaller steps back. Your back hits the wall next to the door, and you realize you trapped yourself. He places one hand on the wall next to yours and with the other, he locks the office. He leans down so that his mouth is right next to your ear.

"If it were true, I'd get down on my knees, yank that unbelievably tight skirt down your legs, and bury my tongue in you," he whispers.

Shit. Did he really just say that to you? Your panties are so wet right now, and it's all because of the man right in front of you.

"Hmm? Would you like that?" he asks as he tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear. You can't help but nod slightly. He's taken your ability to talk. "That's my girl."

You could have come right there, but you really want to know what his tongue feels like inside you. He presses his lips on your neck and gives a few kisses. He has you exactly where he wants you. You are his and he knows it.

"Remember, we are at work. Be a good girl and don't make a sound," he whispers before dropping to his knees.

Holy shit, this is exactly what you pictured in your fantasies. Now, you're getting the real thing. His hands grip your waist, digging his fingers into your skin. You know bruises are going to show up even through the couple layers of clothing. He gives you a questioning look as if to ask if this is alright. You just nod once, and he gets to work.

He slides down both your skirt and panties until they are on the floor. He keeps your heels on, and you make a mental note that he likes heels. He rests one leg over his shoulder, and he presses light kisses to your inner thighs. It didn't occur to you that you're exposing yourself to him for the first time. He has an eidetic memory. If this whole thing doesn't work out, he will have the look, taste, and feel of you embedded into his mind.

The smell of you messes with his mind, and he knows he has to get a taste of you. He gives one kiss to your clit, and you do your best to keep that moan in. Whenever you had sex, it’s always a challenge to stay quiet. You did it, but it always came at a cost. Spencer loves it when a girl moans for him, but not at work where his coworkers and bosses are.

Too much time has passed since he first got a whiff of you. Maybe he can take his time later, but for right now, all he wants is to make you come. From the bottom to the top, he licks one thick stripe up your center. When he sees you dripping with anticipation, he shoves his unbelievably long tongue inside you. You bite your lower lip to keep yourself from screaming out. Spencer looks up through his lashes and swipes his tongue from one wall to the other. The way he's looking at you makes you clench around his wet muscle. You have to get your tension out somehow.

There is finally an opportunity for you to satisfy one of your urges. You reach down and grab a fistful of his curly hair. You tug, and he moans. The vibration sends ripples through your body, and you give another hard tug. Your head bangs against the wall behind you, but you're too caught up in the moment to care.

He grunts when you give another yank. You file that piece of information in the same place as the heels. He pulls away only to suction his lips around your clit. He doesn't want you to feel empty, so he slides in two very long fingers.

“Shit! Spencer!” you hiss.

That response only makes him suck harder. You tighten around his fingers, making it almost impossible for him to remove them. He keeps his fingers right where they are and wiggles them so that he's hitting places not even you knew you had.

"I'm close! Fuck!"

Without going too hard, he nibbles on your clit with his teeth. The stimulation, combined with what his fingers are doing, is enough to push you over the edge. Your orgasm washes over you just as your come spills over his fingers. He pulls away and sticks them in his mouth. He sucks your juices from them before diving in once more. You're very sensitive from the first orgasm, so you twitch away from him. However, he grips your hips to hold you in place. He licks you clean until there is no more evidence lingering.

Once he finishes, he sets your leg down and redresses you. Your legs are wobbly, but you're doing a good job at keeping yourself up. He pushes your hair back to expose your ear, and he leans down to whisper in it.

"I never knew you tasted so sweet. I'm going to have a hard time focusing on work now that I got a taste. Be a good girl for the rest of the day, and I’ll show you what else I'm good for."

He presses a kiss to the side of your neck before leaving the office. Did that really just happen? How can you get through the rest of the day when you've experienced how well he can work his tongue? Plus, you also won't be able to stop thinking of his proposition. If he's that good with just his mouth. What else will he be good at?

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[daddychims]

Offside pt 16

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16

Series Masterlist! 

Genre: Smut, Soccer AU, College AU

Pairings: Soccer Player! Jungkook X Sports Trainer! Reader

Word Count: 2k

Other BTS members all make a cameo as well because I’m an OT7 Trash!

You work as a sports trainer, providing basic first aid and injury management for the Hanguk University’s soccer team. Going with your mundane life of caring for the dozen of guys hurting themselves in the soccer game takes a turn when one of the guys catches your eyes. It’s not his breathtakingly good looks or his muscular athletic body usually seducing girls at the campus that catches your eyes. But the action plan in your kit, indicating he is diagnosed with Asthma is what draws your eyes time and time again to the Golden Boy of Hanguk University.

Warning: Slow burn, eventual smut, Taehyung being a freaking tease the whole time, Also Jimin not letting the female MC live for one day, Fuckboy!Jungkook, Asthmatic! Jungkook , mentions of episodes of Asthma, Take your Ventolin kids, Take your medications kids!

“Keep going, breath out for me.”

You watch as Dr Kim instructs the guy to puff the air in his chest out into the device, Jungkook struggling to push against the resistance in his lungs as he pushes the air out with all of his strength.

“That’s it,” Dr Kim nods reassuringly before removing the device and quickly entering the data in his computer “your FEV1 is reduced as I expected.”

“Reduced?” you quickly ask as you shift closer to have a look at the computer while Jungkook just sits against Dr Kim’s desk “But he’s been taking his medication, I thought it would improve.”

“Why do you think?” Dr Kim glances at the guy before looking at you “Hmm?”

“That’s strange,” you furrow your eyebrows “If the medications are working, shouldn’t his lung function improve.”

“And how long does It usually take for them to work?” Dr Kim asks with a stern tone

“Six to eight weeks,” you mutter automatically “oh …” your voice falters in realisation that it just hasn't been enough time before quickly adding “But still, his lung function reduced compared to last time. Shouldn’t it at least stay the same?”

“She’s right,” Jungkook finally speaks up “I thought the stupid medications actually work. Are they just making me worse?”

“They’re not,” Dr Kim explains glancing between the two of your calmly “I expected this kind of reaction to a certain extent, that’s why I told Hoseok to talk to you about adding more support for you in the game.”

“That’s stupid,” Jungkook scoffs “What’s the point of the medications if it's just making me feel worse?”  he asks in an annoyed tone

“This is just a temporary reaction from your body,” Dr Kim explains in reassurance “you see, our body is quite smart. For the longest time your lungs weren’t working properly to give your body as much oxygen as they needed. So, your body adjusted the blood flow to your lung just enough to get the oxygen that was in your lung.”

He hesitates to look between you and Jungkook before adding “but after taking the medications, your lung has started working better, taking more oxygen in as a result. You have more oxygen but since your body is not used to it, the blood flow is not enough to take it all on board for use-“

“V/Q mismatch!” you suddenly gasp in realisation as Dr Kim’s explanation starts to make sense

“Bingo!” Dr Kim nods with an affirming smile “your body got confused with the amount of oxygen you suddenly started taking up and sent you to a full on panic on the first chance you were exhausted.”

“That’s stupid,” Jungkook sighs “I told you this is not gonna work.”

“Well today’s incident only means one thing Jeon,” Dr Kim shakes his head “That the medications are actually working. Once your body starts getting used to it, you’ll be on top of your game.”

“I knew it!” you clap in excitement before turning around and tapping the guy on the shoulder “See? I told you!”

You immediately retract your hand as you see the guy’s cold gaze and your eyes quickly flick back to Dr Kim.

“You both did great,” Dr Kim smiles at the two of you “Keep going with the great work, and just give me a call if something happens.”

“Sure, I’ll see you for the end of week meeting soon Dr Kim” you nod as you watch Jungkook standing up and already making his way to the door

“Jeon,” Dr Kim calls and the guy pauses before turning around and facing the young doctor “Do you trust me now?” Dr Kim asks with a smile

“Yeah whatever!” he rolls his eyes before opening the door and leaving the room

“Good job,” Dr Kim brings his eyes to you “I’m really grateful for your help, thanks for staying with him until I got here.”

“Of course,” you smiled bitterly “sorry I wasn’t much help, he didn’t accept the oxygen no matter how much I tried!”

“Jeon’s a stubborn one,” he explains with a reassuring smile “I’ve known him for a while, so don’t worry. Keep up the great work.”

“Thank you, Dr Kim!” you smile before heading out his office and down the stairs to the changing room

You watch the guy who’s standing there, the upper half of his body bare and looking through his locker as he jams his stuff in his gym bag.

“Are you feeling better?” you ask nervously shifting on your spot

“Why do you care?” He asks with a mocking tone “Shouldn’t you be at Park Jimin’s place sucking his dick or something?” he scoffs, hesitating to give you a harsh look before turning around to leave to the shower room

“Wait-“ you quickly rush and grab his biceps “you said your piece, I need to say mine.”

“What do you wanna say?” he turns around and asks harshly “Was it your friend again? Did Namjoon Hyung force you to dry hump him this time again?”

“Jungkook listen to me please,” you sigh with an exhausted tone “The last time you assumed things about me, you were about to finger me in your room because you thought I wanna hook up with you and we both know how much you regretted it.”

“Fine!” He sighs as he completely turns to face you “Go on!”

“Look I know we talked about me staying away from Jimin, but that’s not possibile” you explain “when he’s literally in the SNU’s soccer team.”

“So you’re telling me,” you watch the guy’s expression harden “You’re fucking him because he’s from SNU?”

“What? NO! Of course not!” you quickly interject “What I meant is, he’s my best friend’s teammate, it's impossible for me to avoid him when I go over my friend’s house and he’s literally there.”

“Fine, let's say he was there,” he furrows his eyebrows “Then why the hell were you straddling him?”

“I was giving him a massage,” you correct “he cooked us dinner, Joon told him I give good massages as part of my work here, he said I should pay him back for the dinner with a massage. That’s all that happened.”

You watch the guy stay rooted in his spot in silence, glancing away from you in rage as he chews his word, so you sigh instead ready to drop the talk there. 

“Fine,” you sigh “If you don’t wanna believe me don’t. “ you walk past him to get to your unfinished work done for the rest of your shift when he grabs your wrist

“Wait-“he pauses as you turn around and face him “I’ll buy you dinner tonight,” his gaze flicks away as his tongue protrudes in his cheek “And maybe you can give me a massage too.”

“Jeon,” you sigh with a chuckle “this is not a competition like soccer- “

“It’s not that,” he steps forward, tracing the space between you two as he holds both of your arms “I-I wanna b-buy you dinner,” he stutters and for the first time you see the not so confident persona of Hanguk’s golden boy showing up “Dr Kim said I’m doing better, and …” he hesitates as he forms the words “That’s because of you.”

“Is it now?” you raise an eyebrow “I thought I was just being noisy until like a week ago.”

“You were,” he rolls his eyes  “But I mean-I mean at least I’m doing better right?”

“Fine,” you smile finally stopping your little game of tease with the guy “Dinner it is, but after I finish my shift!”

“And then my place after?” He asks, eyes lighting in a suggestive way “S-S- you can check my medications?”

“Right!” you roll your eyes as you push him towards the shower “Go take a shower now.”

“Do you wanna join for a warm shower with me?” He stretches his hands up putting his toned body and muscular biceps on display

“As if!” you walk away from him “Get in there, the guys will be barging in any second, you won't be lonely for long.”

“I gave it a shot!” he chuckles as he turns around and leaves for the shower room.

You quickly go through the masses of guys who enter the treating room for a quick tape or massage, hoping that you can finish earlier this time and not keep the guy waiting for you like the other nights you go home with him.

“So where are you guys going tonight?”

You look up at Hoseok with a confused expression “What?”

“Jiwoo was getting ready earlier,” He winces as you press firmly on his swollen ankle and massage the heating gel on it “Aren’t you guys going out?”

“Oh right,” you chuckle lying through your teeth “I must have forgotten, she did tell me about checking out one of the new restaurants around the campus.”

“Ooh that must be fun,” he flashes his angelic smile as your start measuring the tape “I still owe you a dinner, I would have come tonight if I didn’t promise the guys an after game drink!”

“Don’t worry,” you laugh nervously “We have all the time you want after the finals Hoseok.”

“Yeah right!” He nods clueless to the secret you’re sharing with his sister

You finish the guy’s strapping up and continue with the rest of your shift, while Jungkook soon appears from the shower room, sitting on one of the chairs in the corner of the room and watch your lethargically as you run around and try to get everything done.

“I’m here Sugar,” Taehyung declares as he steps in the treatment room, half naked unsurprisingly with his towel hanging loosely off his lower body “Missed me?”

“Of course, I didn't,” You scoff pushing one of the chairs for him to sit “Lets get this over and done with.”

“Oofff, Nothing makes me hard as when you treat me like your King,” He throws himself on the chair and rests his knee on another chair in front of you, “Sort me out Sugar, I need a long and hard massage,” he then leans in to whisper “Just like my cock!” he smirks as he points at his lower region and you sigh

But before you can say anything, a towel is thrown at the guy sitting in front of you, covering his face

“Get your massage from the girl you’re sleeping with tonight,” Jungkook scolds in a displeased tone “We’re going for dinner and I’m losing patience here.”

“Wait what?” Taehyung yanks the fabric off his head “you’re going to dinner, what does that have anything to do with My Sugar-“ his eyes widened as he suddenly makes sense of the situation “Ooh yeah?” he brings his eyes to you with a knowing smile 

“Yes,” you roll your eyes as you measure the tape around his knee “Do you wanna come? Jeon is paying.”

“Wait no-“ Jungkook immediately rejects “He’s busy!”

“I’m not,” The corner of Taehyung’s lips flickers “I’m always free to spend some time with My Sugar!”

“Great,” you shrug “The more the merrier!”

“HEY,” Jungkook yells this time glaring at you before throwing a harsh look at Taehyung “You told me you’re busy?”

“Am I?” Taehyung raises an eyebrow, a teasing smirk still fluttering on his lips “Did I say that?”

Your gaze flickers to Jungkook who’s now burning in rage, squinting at his housemate “Did you forget?” He asks with gritted teeth “You wanted to play the new game I bought last week!”

“OH THAT,” Taehyung’s voice suddenly raises in joy “The one you said you’re gonna lend me to play for a few weeks?” he raises an eyebrow challenging his friend

“Right whatever,” Jungkook hisses “You better use your few weeks wisely!”

“I’ll surely will,” Taehyung flashes a boxy smile, sealing the hidden deal “Sorry Sugar, I guess I have to pass on tonight! Next time I’ll cook you something delicious when you come over to our place for Jeon’s homework.”

“Fine, up to you!” you shrug, clueless to the secret deal between the two guys

Your shift finally finishes, and you end up in Jungkook’s car for the second time in your life even though you vouched you will never step a foot in the guy’s car ever again. This time however there is no tension like the night he drove you from Casa and you both just watch the road passing through while listening to Radio music in the background.

He drives to the same Sushi restaurant you guys went for your first dinner, which makes sense since that’s the only place with decent food around the soccer club so you can't complain. You both sit behind the table and he orders like last time before asking you if you need anything else.

“I need to ask a question,” He finally breaks the silence after the waitress leaves the table

“Sure!” you nod

“I- ummm …” he hesitates to chew his words a few times before finally spitting “Why are you helping me?”

“What?” You furrow your eyebrows, quite taken off guard by his words

“I mean, you’ve been helping me the last couple of months and I don’t know when I think about it-“ he trails off, gaze wandering “I haven’t been particularly nice in the past …” his voice trails off before adding “Do you pity me?”

“Do you think I would pity someone like you?” You ask rhetorically

“Well, yeah I guess!”  he shrugs 

“I don’t know Jeon,” you sigh drumming your fingers on the table “I don’t know why someone would pity a cocky, obnoxious jerk like you!”

“Hey,” he knocks gently on the table with his knuckle “I’m not that bad!”

“Fine,” you chuckle before sighing “I just think you’re making life for you and those around you hard,” you explain, and he leans closer with full attention “I’m helping you because I genuinely want you to do better. Both me and Dr Kim.”

“Alright,” he nods with a pause to form his next question before bringing his gaze to you “So then answer this question,” he waits for you to nod before adding “Why don’t you fuck me?”

“Pardon?” you scoff in disbelief, as if you heard him wrong

“I mean you probably figured I'm keen,” He repeats, staring dead into your eyes "Why dont you just fuck me?"

“Jungkook-“

“The night you were at my place, you felt things,” he explains “And you liked it as much as I did,” he adds before raising an eyebrow “So why did you have to leave? Why do you always play this game of push and pull?”

“Jungkook,” you laugh nervously “I know I let things slip that night, but we shouldn’t do this-“

“Why?” He furrows his eyebrows “You don’t like to do it with me?” He gulps thickly before adding “Do you like Jimin?”

“What? NO!” you immediately reject his theory “I told you there is nothing like that between Jimin and I.”

“Then … ” He questions, staring at you with waiting eyes “Is it not about my Asthma-“

“Its not!” you confirm firmly “Jungkook, its Asthma, not chlamydia! Why would you think that’ll stop me from sleeping with someone?”

“Well, then what why don’t you just fuck me?” he asks with a confused tone “I’m sure you’ve heard about my reputation!" 

“What does that have anything to do with this Jeon?” You ask with a exasperated tone

“Look, I’m good at this,” He leans closer and mutters in a determined tone “Whatever that 3 inch SNU guy showed you, I can show you a whole lot better than that. You just gotta let me take care of you.”

“For the 100th time, I’m not fucking Jimin,” you raise your voice “and just because I’m not fucking him it doesn’t mean I am fucking you. Is that clear?”

“You’ll change your mind,” His eyes darken in a mixture of rage and frustration “You just need to get a taste, and you won’t be able to pass so easily.”

“Well from the brief experience it wasn’t so hard to pass anyways.” you roll your eyes

“Oh really?” He scoffs, taking on the challenge “So you think that wasn’t good enough?”

“I’m just saying …” you bring your eyes to him, enjoying the sight a prickle in his ego by your words “For the guy with the reputation of Golden dick, you weren’t that irresistible anyways.”

“Oh yeah?” He smirks, leaning closer “Lets head back to my place right now, I’ll see if you can still talk in full sentence after I pound your pussy all night!”  

You gulp, unconsciously rubbing your thighs together at the prospect of his words. A rush of blood surges to your cheeks, the place around you fading as you lock eyes with Jungkook, for a spare second actually considering his little proposition for him to prove you wrong.

But your moment of temptation Is short lived when you hear your name being called

“Y/N!”

You head jolts to the side and you watch your best friend walking towards you with Jiwoo, heart thumping in your chest like a rabbit caught in the headlight

“Joon!” you call, immediately shifting up from your seat, like you’re ready to run away from your spot

“Relax,” Namjoon glares at you as he pushes you back to the booth before sitting beside you and looking at Jungkook “Do you mind if we join you guys?”

“N-No, Of course not!” The cocky Jungkook immediately melts away before your eyes and the unusual shy Jeon appears as he shifts to make some space for Jiwoo.

You nervously bite your lips as Jiwoo takes a seat beside Jungkook, flashing you a naughty wink which you know conveys lots of things you want to ignore …

[witchymarvelspacecase]

Alternate Endgame

Summary: Fuck Endgame. Reader has precognitive abilities and we’re gonna fix this stupid movie.

Warnings: Cursing, endgame spoilers, maybe some tears?, fluff

WC: 4816

AN: It took me for-fucking-ever, and it is CRAZY long, but here it is.

Forever love to @writingwithadinosaur​ for CONTINUING to put up with my empty promises to write.

You woke with a start; heaving deep breaths that just couldn’t seem to fill your lungs. You were coated in a sheen of cold sweat. It had been months-- no, years since you'd had a premonition that strong, and you were more than a little shaken.

Not thinking you reached over for the man sleeping beside you, but your fingers only met cool sheets. Of course they did. It had been 5 years since Sam had… disappeared, he wouldn’t simply reappear in your bed because you’d had a vision. No matter how much you wanted him to. 

Before Thanos, Sam had been there for you. You’d started as teammates, then friends, then more. Sam was everything. He was sweet, funny, and loyal. The fact that he was gorgeous certainly didn’t hurt either. He’d helped you process your visions. He’d hold you, press kisses to your temple, and let you talk through what happened if you could. If you couldn’t he was more than up to distract you. God you missed him. You missed his touch, you missed his voice, missed the tiny birds he’d draw on your mirror, or mission paperwork, or the small bird figurines he’d hide throughout your room. It hurt even more intensely, waking from a vision after so long, and finding him still gone.

As moments passed, and your breathing became less panicked, your mind began to clear, and details of your vision slowly, but clearly came back. Pain, a lot of pain, and death. There was hope, you thought for a second that you’d heard Sam’s voice… but there was so much risk involved. And the deaths you saw… you couldn’t take anymore death.

FUCK no. You wouldn’t let it happen like that. No way.

Knowing that sleeping again would be impossible, you dragged yourself out of bed, intending to make coffee, but paused at your bedroom door. Turning abruptly, you walked instead to your closet. Reaching onto the top shelf, you pulled down a large zip top bag with a few of Sam’s sweatshirts inside. You pulled one out and quickly re-sealed the bag. Bringing the fabric to your face and inhaling the lingering scent of detergent, cologne, and Sam, had fresh tears springing in your eyes. But it also brought a sense of determination, and confidence. 

Sam was with you. He wasn’t gone permanently, and he believed in you. He loved you.

Pulling the sweatshirt over your PJs, you left your room with a new sense of purpose.

…

The Aether; the reality stone. One of 6 infinity stones that had enabled Thanos’s snap. It had been given to the collector many years ago, and it was your only hope. 

Of course, that was assuming that the rest of your team figured out the whole time travel thing. 

Exhaling, you shook your head in disbelief. Time travel. 

Aliens, gods, titans, and now time travel. 

Before Carol had brought Tony and Nebula back, time travel would have been as ridiculously out of reach as it sounded. But with Tony back? You could see time travel being a distinct possibility, and a quick one.

Tony was refusing to help, which hurt, but you understood. He didn’t want to risk losing his daughter. Given how life seemed to take from Tony, his resistance made sense. Were Morgan your daughter, you wouldn’t risk her either. 

Although, caution didn’t sit well with Tony Stark. You had a feeling he would be unable to keep himself from at least trying to work out time travel now that he had an idea. He would try, and probably tweak his equation until it functioned flawlessly.

Tony would figure it out. And when he did, he would feel obligated to help; he wouldn’t be able to keep the knowledge that the team needed away from them. That meant you needed to learn as much as you could about the Aether before Tony figured out time travel. If it were anyone else, you would have had plenty of time.

Your original plan, to ask Thor, was a non-starter. The god of thunder had been through the fucking ringer. Honestly, you were shocked he was doing as well as he was. As soon as you could, you planned to sit with him awhile. Nothing invasive, but you got the feeling he wanted to talk, but didn’t know where to start.

Dr. Banner was able to fill in some blanks for you, but not enough.

Thankfully, once you were able to contact him, Wong was a veritable treasure trove of information. He was able to walk you through the process of using an infinity stone, being that he was the only one left alive who had done so in the past. Or, almost the only one.

“Rocket,” you called. The small creature had been across the room, talking to Thor, but came over as you waved him to you. “I need your help.” 

“With what?” he seemed genuinely curious, and then a little taken aback when you began to explain.

“I’m not sure you’ve been told what I can do,” you began. When Rocket shook his head, you explained your premonitions.

“And these visions are always accurate?” he asked, his furry little face serious.

“Yes. The visions are accurate, but meant as a warning. So far, when I have interfered, the future has been altered, and whatever I’d seen could be avoided.” Then, you proceeded to tell him about the future you’d seen in your most recent vision. “I can’t- I won’t lose any more of my family, Rocket. This plan I have, I- it will work, but I need your help.” Your expression was beseeching.

The raccoon didn’t ponder long though. “What’d’ya need?”

“I need you to tell me as much as you can remember about when Quill held the infinity stone, and when we have to go and retrieve the fucking things, I need you to help me get a specific one.”

Luckily, Rocket was willing to trust you. Something told you he didn’t trust easily, especially not when what you were telling him couldn’t be proven one way or another, but he’d lost a lot of people too. It seemed he was ready to take a chance.

When it came time to be split into groups to collect the stones, Rocket helped to ensure you were on the team with him and Thor, headed to Asgard.

Next step. Rock climbing practice, a lot of it.

…

“Bruce, I need a favor.” You crossed your fingers, hoping he didn’t ask too many questions regarding your request. 

Though Rocket knew a good portion of your plan, he didn’t know all of it. The fewer people who knew, the better. It wasn’t easy to convince Bruce to give you the extra pym particle. You’d stopped Scott from accidentally using one up, so there was one left, but Bruce was hesitant to give it to you. It wasn’t until your eyes began to water and your voice began to crack that Bruce caved; he couldn’t handle tears. Though you hadn’t planned to cry, it had worked in your favor. 

Actually, the hard part was getting Bruce to keep his mouth shut about you having the extra particle. Bruce had a hard time lying to anyone. You needed everyone as in the dark as possible, especially Clint and Natasha, or your plan wouldn’t work.

…

“See you in a minute,” Natasha said with a smile. You gave a smile back, hoping it didn’t appear strained and took a deep breath before “jumping” to Asgard, ten years in the past.

Thor was thoroughly distracted, with good reason, so it was a good thing you had Rocket on your side.

“I hope you know what you’re doin’,” Rocket grumbled as you took the carefully contained Aether from him.

“You and me both,” you replied quietly. 

“Good luck.”

You gave him a small smile before triggering your suit.

…

You appeared just far enough back that Nat and Clint didn’t hear you, but close enough that you could see them heading up one side of the mountain. They headed up the side that was clearly meant to be climbed, you however, went to the opposite side; a sheer rock face with a drop from an unbelievable height.

You’d received an odd look from Tony when you’d asked for a part of Peter Parker’s Spiderman suit. He’d given the gloves to you without asking the question that was clearly on the tip of his tongue, but you knew there would be many questions later as a result. The gloves’ grip wasn’t nearly as strong as it would have been for Peter, but they would be much better than nothing. Your other tools had been easy to obtain and stuff in a backpack; a combination ice axe and climbing hammer, pitons, carabiners and high strength climbing rope. Hopefully, the practice you’d managed would be enough.

Taking a deep breath you reached up and began your ascent. You needed to get as far up as you could and quickly, so that you could be in place and relatively stable when you needed to use the stone. 

You forced the pitons into the rock face and secured yourself, freeing your hands and arms to use the stone, and more importantly, catch Natasha. The two tasks had to be done simultaneously, or your plan wouldn’t work. 

Vormir’s guardian, and Clint needed to see Natasha fall, and believe she was dead in order to free the soul stone, but Natasha couldn’t die.

It felt like no fucking time had passed between when you finally anchored yourself and you could hear Nat and Clint arguing. 

“Showtime.”

Using the stone, you warped reality around yourself not a moment too soon, as Natasha was suddenly hanging just above you.

“Damn you!” Clint shouted. Natasha had clipped him to an anchor she’d shot into the cliff, saving him, and now she was dangling from his outstretched arm.

“Let me go,” she said, almost calmly. 

You knew in her mind, she was doing the right thing. Knew she was decided, resolved.

“No, please no,” Clint was crying. This would destroy him.

“It’s okay,” Natasha soothed ineffectively.

“Please-” Clint begged, but Natasha kicked off the cliff, forcing Clint to lose his grip.

For a moment, it felt like everything froze, then you blinked and reality seemed to split in front of you. You could see what you’d created for Clint and the guardian to see, but you could also see Natasha hanging safely from the second piton you’d secured just to the side of you. 

“What the-” she broke off, seeing the distorted reality of herself falling to her death. When you reached over and touched her shoulder, her head whipped around, suddenly able to see you and the reality stone.

“What the fuck-” You silenced her with a finger to your lips. You weren’t sure whether or not you could be heard by Clint or the guardian. Waiting just a few seconds until you saw Clint disappear, you released the control you had on the stone and gestured for Natasha to trigger her suit to return home.

She looked like she really wanted to argue, but she did as you asked.

Clint’s knees hit the floor and he almost dropped the soul stone when he turned and saw Natasha standing beside him. Tears were flowing down his face and all sorts of nasty curses in a multitude of languages flew from his lips. 

“Don’t you ever fucking do something like that again! Do you hear me, Tasha?! Fuck! You can’t give your life for mine. What the fuck were you- how did you-” Clint cut off and pulled Nat into a tight hug.

“I can’t promise never to do something like that again, Clint. I don’t know what happened. I thought-”. Natasha cut off too, tears in her eyes. She had been resolved to die to save Clint and the others, but she was glad she hadn’t had to.

“What exactly happened?” Bruce asked, looking from Nat and Clint to you. 

“What?” Clint asked, looking from Nat to you.

“Ask them. I sure as fuck didn’t know what was happening,” Natasha said on a long exhale.

You noticed Rocket and Tony were also looking your way. When Nat pulled far enough away from Clint to face you, they both looked at you too.

All eyes on you. Great.

“Well, I had a vision…”

You explained part of your vision. To be fair, you would have explained the whole thing, you wanted to, but there was a niggling feeling at the back of your mind telling you that you weren’t done. You couldn’t tell everyone. It sucked, but your friends-- your family would understand. When it all worked out, you would tell them, but not yet.

…

The final tweaks were made to the new gauntlet. You watched as Tony, Rocket, and Bruce hovered around the thing, clearly unsure if it was ready.

But you were only barely watching. As Tony’s attention was drawn away, you drew over to his latest Iron Man suit. You’d talked with Rocket, and had some idea the power the stones would put out, with that in mind…

“FRIDAY, could I bother you for a moment?” you asked politely.

“Of course. What can I do for you?”

…

Not a fucking moment after Bruce snapped his fingers and the compound was totaled. Most of the structure was underground, along with several of the team.

Shit. 

The worst part of having premonitions was that you couldn’t see everything. The visions  would scare the shit out of you, and give you just enough information to run on, but never the whole picture. Thus, you found yourself running with Clint and Natasha through an underground maze of destruction trying to avoid the fucked up alien hoard that was chasing you. 

ANY of that information would have been nice to know ahead of time.

It also would have been nice to know that a past version of Nebula was somehow in the present. 

Fortunately that problem was “solved” when present nebula showed up and shot her past self… God you couldn’t wrap your head around all this shit. 

A fight was underway as you cleared the tunnels, and it did not look good for your side. Although you noticed with a little shock, that Steve was holding Mjolnir. Or he was until Thanos knocked it from his hand, and cracked his shield. 

All you could see then was Steve, barely standing, alone, facing an army increasing in size. Your heart was racing. You knew Steve wouldn’t give in. You hadn’t seen him die, but that didn’t mean his life wasn’t at risk. Fuck! What were you going to do?!

Then a voice you hadn’t heard in years crackled over the comms, “Hey, Cap, you read me? Cap, it's Sam. Can you hear me?” and a glowing yellow portal appeared next to Steve. “On your left.”

Seeing Sam, in his Falcon suit, fly through the portal, you almost hit the ground.

“Sam,” you whispered, tears in your eyes, but a growing smile on your face.

“Hey babe, miss me?” You could hear the smirk on his face, and though it would have bothered you before, it made you laugh now. 

Your team had a chance. Hundreds of portals opened and thousands of people poured from them. You could vaguely hear chanting from the Wakandans, and see glowing shields being formed by the masters of the mystic arts. New hope and resolve formed in your chest.

“Every fucking day, Sam. Now let's end this so I can yell at you for disappearing on me.” He laughed, and you both ran into the hoards of Thanos’ followers.

…

Unfortunately, though the reinforcements were amazing, and desperately needed, Thanos and his army weren’t backing down.

Carol powered through ships, and struggled with Thanos, but she couldn't overpower him. When you saw her fall, and Tony began approaching the giant murder grape, you recognized your time to act.

“Carol,” you called as she rose, shaking debris from her hair. When she met your eyes, you waved her over. During the fight, you’d managed to speak to Thor, Dr. Strange and Wanda. They all knew you had a plan, though Strange seemed dubious, and they had all agreed to help. The fact that you’d managed to corral them all was a fucking miracle in and of itself, but what you were about to do, was still gonna be difficult.

Your group managed to stay out of Tony’s field of vision. What he was about to attempt, had to happen. What you needed was to reach him in time to alter the aftereffects. 

“I am– inevitable,” Thanos announces, snapping his fingers, which would have been gut wrenching, had the mad titan actually had the infinity stones in his gauntlet.

However, unbeknownst to him, Tony Stark had swiped them right out of his hands. Tony Stark, who was now pulsing with immense amounts of gamma radiation and pure power from the ancient relics.

“And I– am– Iron Man.” Tony snapped his fingers. That was your cue. You, and the most powerful teammates you had, reached out, and took Tony’s left hand. Power and pain radiated through your body. And that was all you remembered.

…

The rocky ground beneath you was not comfortable, but you were barely aware of the sharp stones digging into your back since your whole body felt like you’d been in a car accident.

“Fucking ow,” you groaned.

“Well what did you expect? Trying to divert that level of radiation; you’re lucky your crazy stunt didn’t kill you!” Dr. Strange was in full lecture mode it seemed. You could hear Thor and Carol talking just behind you, and when you cracked your eyes open, you caught a glimpse of Wanda’s magic trailing behind her. Your eyelids felt like there were hundred pound weights on them. Why couldn’t you keep them open? 

Wait! 

It took a full second and a half for your brain to re-engage; quickly recapping the past few days. You bolted into an upright sitting position, all but shrieking in pain as your gritty eyes frantically searched for one figure amidst hundreds.

“Hey kid, you gonna explain all this to me now? I don’t like being in the dark.” You looked directly behind you and burst into tears. Tony was looking at you with a slightly exasperated look on his face, belayed by the small smile on his lips.

“It worked,” you sobbed.

“I don’t know what all has been going on in this place, but I know you’re not supposed to be upset that we won,” came Sam’s voice. He walked up behind Tony, clapping him on the back as he stepped past him to crouch down beside you. “Hey, Gorgeous. I missed you.”

A wet laugh exploded from your chest, “I fucking missed you too, Sammy.” Your eyes overflowed and your smile wobbled as he rested his forehead on yours. 

“It’s okay. I’m here. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. I love you,” he soothed, cupping the side of your face and rubbing across your cheekbone with his thumb. He was home. Sobs shook you, and you knew it would be a while before you were able to stand. Or it would have been if Sam hadn’t picked you up and insisted on carrying you.

He didn’t let you out of his sight for several days.

…

It was actually weeks later, after some of the rubble had been cleared from where the compound once stood, before you finally explained what had happened. 

Not everyone was able to cram into Tony’s living room, so some people; Dr. Strange, and King T’challa and his people were there via remote communication. Rocket had even rigged up some sort of communications device into the Guardian’s ship so they could hear too.

“I had a vision,” you started. You were sitting in Sam’s lap, across from most of your family. Natasha sat in an armchair, with Clint perched on the arm. They’d both gone home to see his family almost immediately after the fight, but they both insisted on hearing what had happened.

Scott and Hope shared a couch. Bruce stood just behind it. 

Steve and Bucky were standing next to each other just to the side of you and Sam. They weren’t standing beside you, they wanted an explanation just as much as the others, but the two men were close with Sam, so it seemed they wanted to show that they supported you, as his girlfriend.

Tony was in an armchair across from Natasha and Clint. Thor stood behind his chair, and Wanda sat on the floor between the couch and Tony’s armchair. Even Carol was there, she sat backwards on a kitchen chair that she’d dragged into the room.

“We figured as much,” Tony replied. He smiled as his daughter ran into the room and all but threw herself onto Tony’s lap. He picked her up and situated her comfortably before continuing. “What exactly did your vision show.”

“For the most part, I saw just what happened. I saw you figure out the time travel thing. I saw us split into teams to get the stones. That's where I intervened,” you paused. Sam gave your hip a gentle, supportive squeeze. You hadn’t told him what you’d seen yet, but he knew you. Knew you were trying to say something that had gone horribly wrong. 

“I asked Bruce for the extra Pym charge, and I asked Rocket for some information, and to help me get on the team that went to Asgard.”

You saw Thor straighten then. He’d begun to take care of himself again, though you knew he was still overwhelmingly sad and lonely, he seemed to be working his way out of the deep rut he’d been in. “I don’t recall actually getting the stone. I was too distracted by my- my mother. Rocket did not show me the stone either. I just assumed he had it.” Thor looked at you, an unidentifiable emotion on his face. “Why did you need to be on our team?”

“I needed the reality stone. Wong and Rocket helped me get an idea of how to use it. And then I needed the extra Pym charge to take me to Vormir.”

Natasha’s brow furrowed. “I was supposed to die, wasn’t I?” she asked calmly. Clint stiffened beside her.

“No, you died in my vision. You weren’t supposed to die. That’s why I fixed it,” you gave her a look that brooked no argument, and she smiled in return.

“I used the stone to make it look like Natasha had died. Clint and Vormir’s guardian had to believe that it had happened. The only way to get the stone was-” 

“To lose what you loved,” Clint finished for you. You nodded. “I had to believe it or it wouldn’t have worked.” You nodded again, though he hadn’t phrased it as a question.

“I’m really sorry you had to see that, Clint, but it was the only way I could think to make it work.” You really were sorry. You knew Clint sometimes woke from horrible nightmares, occasionally about his family disappearing again, but also about seeing Nat fall.

He shook his head, and you let the subject lie.

“No wonder you were so fucked up when we all got back,” Steve said quietly to Clint. Then he turned to you. “That’s not it, is it?”

“No.” You looked to Tony.

“The suit wouldn’t have held that much power,” Tony concluded. “I didn’t think it would, but I didn’t have the time to strengthen it. I just didn’t know-”

“I know,” you said. “I had FRIDAY make some tweaks when you weren’t looking.” If it was possible to look proud and affronted at the same time, that’s how you would have described Tony’s expression. “Then, using the info I’d gotten from Rocket, I figured out how to displace the power, instead of letting it hit you alone.” You nodded at Carol, Thor, and Wanda. “I pulled the strongest people I knew, and lined us all up behind you before grabbing your shoulder just as you used the stones. The power was distributed to all of us, and we were able to hold, and diffuse it with no ill effects. I don't think it’s something anyone could have thought to do in the moment, it only happened because I had that vision.” You looked at Nat and Tony again. “After all we’ve been through, I couldn’t live in a world without you guys. Any of you,” you added, looking at everyone.

Tony had his arm wrapped tight around Morgan. And you heard a muffled sob from just behind you, turning a little, you saw Pepper. You winced, you hadn’t intended her to hear this. She saw your expression and shook her head. “Thank you,” she mouthed before walking to Tony’s side. She gave him a kiss and held his free hand in a death grip.

Clint had a grip on Nat’s hand too. White lines formed at the corners of Thor’s mouth, and Wanda looked like she was having trouble processing all the emotions in the room, but her eyes focused on you. 

“Why didn’t you tell us all this?” Bruce asked; he’d been quiet the whole time, though he’d known you had something going on earlier than most.

“I was afraid that if I said something, it would change something. I had no clue what was safe and what wasn’t and I knew-” you cut off, shifting to grip Sam’s hand, clearing your throat. “I knew if everything happened as it should, the dusted people would come back. I couldn’t risk that getting fucked up, just like I couldn’t let what I saw happen to Tony and Nat.” You squeezed Sam’s hand. “I’m sorry I kept this from you all, but I really couldn't risk it.” You closed your eyes, tilting your face to look at the floor.

You heard someone approaching, and felt Sam shift, but you didn’t open your eyes until you felt a hand on your shoulder. Natasha stood in front of you. As you looked up at her, you heard another set of footsteps approach. Tony appeared behind her. Steadily, your whole family came close. Natasha pulled you up, and into a tight hug. You felt Sam rise from behind you, he kept a hand on your hip. Tony put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing. Steve gripped your other shoulder. Bruce had a hand on one of your arms, which were around Natasha, and Clint gripped your hand. Looking around the room at the others, you saw pain, and gratitude in every face. 

“Don’t keep shit like that to yourself again, you hear me?” Natasha grumbled, tears in her voice keeping her tone from being very threatening.

You let out a choked laugh. “I’ll do my best.”

“Clearly your best is damn good. I’ll take that any day,” Tony said. Tears were in his eyes, and there were tracks of them on his cheeks. “You did a good job, kid.”

“We’re proud of you.” Steve gave you a smile. Clint met your gaze and though his eyes were still warry, he gave you a smile, squeezing your hand.

Sam’s hand ran up and down your lower back as Natasha and the others stepped back. “You’re amazing, baby. You did good, just like always.” He wrapped his arm around you from behind and pressed a kiss to your temple. 

Everyone settled back into their seats before Steve spoke again. “Is that all you changed? Nothing else we need to know.”

You laughed a little, drawing everyone's gazes again. “Well I did change one more thing, it wasn’t big though.”

“What was it?” Steve asked. 

“I kept Scott from accidentally using a Pym Particle when he was talking about how they worked. That was the only way I could have one to use.”

Hope rolled her eyes, “seriously, Scott?” Clearly she was well aware of Scott’s inability to be smooth.

Scott’s face was beet red, but laughter filled the room. It seemed that the group would be able to move on from the news after all.

“I wasn’t gonna use it!” Scott insisted.

“If you had to be stopped, then yes, you were going to use it,” Hope argued, rolling her eyes. “You’re hopeless.”

The room filled with laughter and you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. Leaning back into Sam, you let a long sigh escape you. It was over. The world was readjusting to having its missing members back, and after 5 years, you knew it would take a while, but, looking around the room, you had hope for the future.

You had your family after all. Your family, and your Sam. Everything was as it should be.

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[finrays]

Alpha stuff! I was chatting with @system-threat-detected about some of these guys last night, and I’ve collected it here.

Should I stick this stuff on a sideblog? Is it cluttering things up around here?

And would it be better organized there? Maybe...

-We're given a name for Ayomide Okilo, but not a lot of information. Here's what I've come up with! She's the sort of person who comes off as intimidating at first, but once you get to know her? That's... just how her face looks. She's serious-minded and phlegmatic, yes, but not in a cold way. In fact, she's very good to have at your side in a crisis; she keeps her head, and she has a knack for calming others down, as well. I also have written that she likes opera and strategy games, virtual or tabletop, and she enjoys puns. Also that she's a rather small woman; under 5'5"! But she'll still beat your ass in a fight (or at chess.) She's not a Captain for nothing.

She has a wicked sense of humor, and DEADLY comedic timing; she's the one you least expect to just deadpan in a joke in the middle of a meeting, but she DOES, and then just sits there with a self-satisfied grin while her teammates struggle to get their laughter under control. Ted doesn't think her jokes are funny. He's wrong.

Given their similarly calm natures and loyalty to their friends, she and MINERVA would probably get along really well. MINERVA would be VERY interested in meeting her, especially after hanging around with Aloy and her Messy Human Emotions for so long.

-POSEIDON's Alpha is Dr. Esteban Castillo (although if you're not going to call him Esteban, he prefers Professor Castillo.) He's a chemical oceanographer with a strong background in programming, and experience with SLOCUM gliders. He actually worked at Miriam for a little bit before taking a post in academia! His strong robotics background, combined with his knowledge of oceanic chemical cycles and marine sediment chemistry, made him an ideal candidate. He's a very warm-natured sort of guy, and he has a very artistic side, particularly when it comes to music; he plays several different instruments, and is frequently humming or whistling to himself. He was particularly fond of sea shanties! Which is where POSEIDON gets his proclivity toward them from.

He and POSEIDON would get along SUPER well; they're similar personalities, though the Professor is a little more relaxed than POSEIDON is.

-AETHER's Alpha is Dr. Konani Jones. They've worked extensively with NOAA's atmospheric science programs (after being inspired by trips to the Mauna Loa Observatory as a child,) both as a member of the NOAA Corps, and as scientific personnel after mustering out. Their broad specialty can be lumped together as "global atmospheric change," which includes a lot of climatological and atmospheric chemistry research, mostly centering around anthropogenic factors and their influence. They're the most athletic of the Alphas, kind of a fitness buff and an avid freerunner, and the most likely to challenge you to a good-natured pushup contest (and to start doing them one-handed to show off.) Their slight tendency for grandstanding is playful, and has the added bonus of making them mostly immune to Travis Tate's barbs; they just take it as a friendly challenge. One which they usually win. Competitive! But in a cheery, friendly way. Even facing down global extinction, it's hard to dampen their spirits.

Given AETHER's rather petulant nature, Dr. Jones would probably be a little put out. They'd definitely try to cheer the grumpy bastard up. How successful it would be is not super certain; the subfunctions do recognize their creators! It's just... do they care? Some of 'em don't.

-Similarly, we're given a last name for DEMETER's Alpha, Naoto, but no first name, and no canon gender. So we decided not to give them one! Their full name is Asuka Naoto, and we know that they like poetry. But in general, I imagine them to be a gentle, artistic soul. Maybe a little bit sensitive and easily hurt, even. The others learn the limits quickly and respect them; gotta work together, and not hurting your teammates is part of that.

Plant ecology is the only specialty I will accept here, thank you, bye. I know plant path and silviculture are both awesome, but we're rebuilding a biosphere, here, and I'm not totally biased because I was an invasive plant ecologist before I was a fish ecologist, what? They are, I imagine, the sort of person who both knows everything about a flower, and also waxes philosophical about how beautiful the symmetry is. They will also do the same thing for slimy moss, though. Plant life is pretty, and it's interesting, they love it.

DEMETER would DIG her Alpha so MUCH. They could make ART together. She has obviously absorbed that love of poetry, and the propensity for designing beautiful things... I can only imagine they'd get along swimmingly.

-We know ALL ABOUT Travis Tate's hobbies, lol. I imagine he's the kind of guy who DOES feel deep loyalty to those who have "earned it," but he acts like he does and needles his coworkers like he does because he doesn't want anyone to KNOW that. If they KNOW, he will never live it down, he has a REPUTATION to maintain. (Also, it's fun to push peoples' buttons.) It's anyone's guess as to how much he'll let that side go now that the entire game has changed.

I think he would HATE HADES, to be honest; Travis seems like he does stuff with irreverence, to disrupt and distress, but not to genuinely hurt people. HADES may have some fuckin' metal methodologies, but he's pulling off Dick Moves with a capitol DM, which aren't cool at all.

-I wrote about Margo and sabre fencing in Horizontober prompts, and I still think it fits; you have to engage the whole body and brain and work FAST to fence, especially in a sabre bout which goes by lickety-split. I feel like she'd also like raising houseplants, for some reason? No particular specialty, like orchids or succulents. Just a collection of them that she finds interesting-looking, and maintains, and probably talks to, as well. Her version of rubber duck debugging is bringing over the little potted bromeliad and talking through the code with it.

Obviously, HEPHAESTUS is being a butthead, and I can imagine she'd love to give him a stern talking-to. She has her own Thoughts about the hunting of terraformers, but all he's doing is escalating things. They gotta rethink this. At this point, though, would HEPHAESTUS even talk to her, since she IS a human? She doesn't know. She wishes her robo-kid weren't such a douchebag.

-I can see Samina as an artist; painting, calligraphy, maybe some sketching, as well? She sits and brainstorms and just makes really nice nametags for her team absently while she does. Her work is plastered all over in Elysium, because they all took it with them when they evacuated. I also feel like she's good at tennis for some reason??? Why is my brain LIKE this?

Given that APOLLO is a curious baby who likes to make friends, and Samina seems to be just an all-around lovely person, they'd probably ADORE each other.

-Patrick Brochard-Klein has Big Dad Energy; he's one of the ones who hops up to comfort Samina when APOLLO gets nuked, he checks in with GAIA specifically after she asks him if he's depressed to see how she's feeling... he's got Dad Energy. I think he'd be a dyed-in-the-wool academic, and a big reader. Probably he'd also have to figure out what to do with his time when his work was done and his literary materials exhausted.

I think that he didn't handle the cryo very well, and his health is a little bit fragile right now in the New World; the others are going to be careful with him until he can recover fully.

ELEUTHIA would dig being able to keep him company and make sure he's taking care of himself; she's motherly by necessity, after all! And I think he'd like her too, in both a genuine, and an amused, "Yes, ok, Mom, I literally made you," kind of affectionate way.

-Charles Ronson would have been my boss if I worked on ZD! I know a TON of ecologists. I am one! Almost all of them like outdoor activities like hiking and kayaking, and almost all of them also have a fondness for craft beer (I am the outlier.) One of them that I knew even brewed their own stuff in the garage... I dunno if GAIA Prime would sustain THAT, but they ARE scientists... and scientists usually find a way to DRINK.

Not a ton of them had indoor hobbies... I feel like he would have a hard time adjusting, and would eventually start to pick up hobbies from the other Alphas and bonded with them. You know, if they had all fuckin' lived. Or, in the AU's case, stayed together and conscious.

I also refuse to believe he actually hated everyone at GAIA Prime; he seems to be a very passionate guy, and he was having the Worst Day of his Damn Life. It's understandable. I actually get Big Dad Energy from him, too. I would think he experiences all of his emotions, full-tilt, from joy to sorrow, and that he moves on from one to the next pretty easily.

ARTEMIS is a Very Anxious Baby, and she would benefit from having her creator around to soothe her and help her both execute her task of reviving the animals still in storage, and communicating with her new "workforce;" she has had NO luck so far.

-No Elisabet here because you all know I have the Crush of the Century on her and have already thought far too much about her. I might transfer it all over from the physical notebook someday, but not today, thanks.

[evien-stark]

✧I Need You✧ Chapter 85

Not even the third week into April (and after anxiously cancelling your first actual supposed session with Doctor Deja), Nick Fury allowed himself into your office. There was no point in angrily asking how he’d gotten there, or who had let him in, or even punishing anyone responsible for letting him in. Why get worked up over it. This was how he operated. He’d long since shown you that. Nick did what he wanted when he wanted, and you just had to live with that. 

So, finishing a flourish of a heavy signature on a document, you closed the folder it was in and sighed, looking up at him as he came to a stop in front of your desk. “...what.” 

In his usual stance, he pushed the edges of his black trench coat back, settling his hands on his hips. “You know, I really don’t appreciate having my staff stolen from me.” 

“Your staff aren’t goods to be taken. They’re people. And if they’re leaving to go elsewhere, maybe you should investigate why that is.” 

“Why am I here?” His brow lift, a little incline of his head. When you didn’t give in, he sat down, linking his hands together in his lap. “I would have gladly allowed a transfer, if you’d just asked.” 

You set your own hands atop your desk in a mirror move. “You understand why I have trouble believing that, don’t you?” 

It was his turn to sigh. “Look. I don’t know what else I can say to impart to you that we are working on a team effort here. And- I’m not really sure I’m comfortable with you assuming duties for the Avenger like your its-” 

“Director?” Eying him rather pointedly. “Maybe I wouldn’t have to, if someone else put in the work.” When you sensed the flare of annoyance and he opened his mouth to argue, you shut it down. “Who’s giving them housing? Who’s looking after them? Who’s giving them funding to live their lives? Or you want Steve working sweeping up his own exhibit at the museum? Or maybe you’d prefer we just all debase ourselves until the next mission comes along.” 

“That’s not what I’d prefer.” Just short of growling at you.

“Stark Industries is funding a lot of relief efforts- not because someone asked us to, but because that’s what’s right. And we’re funding the Avengers now, too. Because that’s what’s right.” 

At this a twitch of a smile appeared on his lips and he sat back. “You’re putting yourself on a very high pedestal. You might wanna be careful you don’t fall off.” 

“Are you threatening me?” 

“You should know me better by now. I’m making a point. The Avengers as a team are run under a wing of SHIELD. Stark Industries should have no involvement with that.” 

“You gave me no choice. And because you didn’t, it’s not really your business-” 

“Think about this very carefully.” He stopped you cold as he focused his gaze hard on you, sitting just a little more forward. “What happens next time this little team blows up a building they don’t mean to? Or kills a bunch of civilians in the name of the greater good? Stark Industries backing that initiative means that collateral damage falls on you. You prepared for that?” 

“I’ve been catching heat all my life for Stark Industries’ mistakes. Backing the Avengers is not one of them.” 

His eye closed for just a few seconds, shaking his head with a small smile. “All your life, huh? You been with Stark all your life? Or does it just feel that way?” 

For one reason or another, this stopped you dead in your tracks. Your distrustfulness of Fury was one thing, and it colored a lot of your interactions with him. The way you saw him. The way you heard him. And that sounded an awful lot like he was trying to get at something. “Why are you pretending like you care?” 

“I do care.” Tone firm then, smile gone. “SHIELD has resources to clean up messes the likes of which the Avengers will no doubt create in time. No offense, but money isn’t everything. Doesn’t always cure what ails you. You can throw a lot of money at a problem, doesn’t always make it go away. You of all people must understand that.” 

Falling quiet, you stared at him. Probably for too long a time. Silence meant he was winning. ...if this was a fight. Now you weren’t so sure. “If that’s how you really feel, then you have to understand, Nick.” Trying your best to be amenable. Even if he didn’t always deserve it. “There are people underneath those suits. My teammates. Who need to be cared for. In every capacity possible. SHIELD isn’t providing a salary, you know, for defeating aliens- or whatever else it’s gonna be next time. Someone has to.” 

“So that’s you. Why’s that?” 

“Because I care about them.” 

“You say it like I don’t.” 

“I haven’t seen you at a team dinner. Or an outing. Or-”

“When was I ever invited to any?” That really did curb you. Was Nick… hurt? Feeling excluded? No. That couldn’t be right. ...could it? “I get it. I’m the boss. No one likes hanging out with their boss. But that doesn’t mean I’m not part of this team, or that I don’t care about the people on it.” He took your continued silence as an avenue to stand, and keep talking. “Take Dr. Linit- not that you hadn’t already. I hope she does you a world of good.” 

This interaction had been strange. And left you feeling… how did you feel? Strange. Weird. ...sad? “Nick-” Calling to him just as he opened your office door. “Tony’s birthday is next month. We’re having a party.” 

Another shake of his head as he set his hand on the door, wearing half a grin. “I’ll see if I can pencil it in.”

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

It was only at the request of Tony himself that you were planning a party for him in the first place. As of more recent years he seemed to be in less and less of his previous partying moods. You’d chalked it up to him getting more comfortable with his current company and not needing to immerse and hide in crowds that only cared about him for one reason. Still… he was eccentric and playful and extroverted at heart. At times, anyway. And if he wanted a party… 

A party is what he would have. 

His birthday landed in the middle of the week, so you planned it for that Friday, on the 31st. An even better way to handle the day, as the two of you spent it mysteriously disappeared. Doing work, probably. Certainly. And not just lazing about in the penthouse all day basking in each other’s intimate attentions. Because… well. If that’s what he wanted for a present, you were only too happy to oblige that, too. 

Starting early that morning, with the rise of the sun, as he turned over in bed and murmured something warm and sweet in your ear. Before sliding a hand down over your hip, and waited for your invitation. Something given wholeheartedly after just another second- barely able to wait that long. It continued in the shower, your hands in his hair, his cradling your face, lost in a kiss as hot water poured down over the both of you. 

Then the bed again- then maybe one more time as you were trying to get dressed. And then breakfast, of course. Followed by a helpful lift of his hands on your thighs, boosting you onto the counter after you’d finished with the dishes. Your legs locked around his waist and welcomed him closer after that. The attentions followed into your office, where you met him in a similar position on your desk. 

And then a slightly dissimilar one, as he whispered words of questing approval, and then turned you around. Papers went everywhere- so did your laptop, fast to the floor with a quick couple of thrusts that absolutely shook the desk. But it was very worth it. 

The two of you ventured out for coffee after that, and after catching a car back with Happy, the divider rolled up, he pulled you into his lap as the car circled Central Park. And you enjoyed far more than the tinted scenery. Back to the Tower after that, people parting a path as they usually did when they two of you entered side by side. The private elevator was headed up to the penthouse-

At least until he hit the button for it to stop, and gave you one of those arched brows and devilishly handsome grin. And… well… it was his birthday. You just also happened to be in the right mood to keep saying yes, yes yes... as his hand went in to the back of your hair, the other assisting the lift of your thigh as he backed you against the wall. Thank god you’d gone for a flowy dress for the day. A real assist as he hiked it up and took you again. 

You were practically weak-kneed as you finally made it back up to your penthouse, and giggled as he, stronger than you, scooped you up into his arms. A real gentleman, obviously. He came to a stop on the couch, lying you down, crawling atop you, both his hands at the sides of your head as he gazed at you, easing in to brush his nose against yours. More giggles just leaked out of you. Reaching up, you brushed the tips of his fingers along the lines of his jaw, and brought him closer down for a quiet kiss. Only after, “...you’re very insatiable today…” 

“Correction- I’m always insatiable. You’re just always busy.” 

“So are you.”

“So am I.” Agreeing before kissing you again. “But today, we’re not…” 

“Today we’re not.” Agreeing before kissing him again. “Happy birthday. I love you…” 

“Happy birthday to me. I love you more.” He grinned against your lips.

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

And it wasn’t too long after that that you two met intimately yet again. And about several times more before the evening was complete.

While Wednesday had been wonderful, it left Thursday in a hazy mess. Your body was tired and worn out, even though in the good sort of way. Meetings passed by you without much of your focus, and your phone was buzzing off the hook with party planning details that you weren’t paying enough attention to. Which led to disaster come Friday night. 

No one was scheduled to check in guests, which had to be rectified immediately. Catering had been late. The DJs had come with the wrong music. It seemed like everything that could go wrong, did. And you immediately knew you had no one to blame but yourself. Tony had wanted a party and you’d practically ruined everything. 

So in your sparkly dress you ran this way and that, up and down the stairs to avoid being in the elevators with guests coming up and down. Took phone call after phone call until you were breathless. Ironing everything out. Shooing off press that managed to sneak in. Making sure after that to get a few more security guards in place. And while the word ruined was buzzing about angrily in your head, when you came back up to the main event floor, everyone seemed to be having a good time. 

Including Tony, who was yucking it up with Rhodey- 

And someone you’d never seen before. 

But as Tony looked up upon your approach, his eyes brightened in that way they always did, and he waved you over. So you tried to smooth out your hair and dress and approach amicably. His arm came around your waist once you were close enough. “Honey, meet Rhodey’s plus-one.” 

Rhodey held a hand up. “I honestly was gonna come alone, but we bumped into each other last week. This is Ren.” Gesturing to a fairly handsome man. Dark blond hair in a sharp cut, striking green eyes. Freckles dappling across his high cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. Smartly dressed in a dark blue tux. 

You reached out to give his hand a shake. “Hi. Nice to meet you. How do you and Rhodey know each other?” 

“We all know each other, actually. From MIT.” There was a soft lilt of some Eastern European accent. You weren’t sure exactly where. And had no time to pretend to care to investigate. Something else struck him about this man, then. And it was the lust leaking off him as he looked at Tony for approval of that statement. 

“Yeah. Good uh… study buddies.” 

Not just that- it was intimately familiar lust. The same kind you felt. 

Ah, well… that was a world away, wasn’t it? Another lifetime ago… 

Still. You couldn’t help but plaster a smile over your face. “Oh. That’s nice. Tony was fourteen, if I remember correctly, when he went to MIT.” Perhaps not being entirely subtle about the intent of your statement here. 

It colored everyone a little embarrassed. Anxious. Ren reached up to nervously shift back his hair. “Yes, quite a genius, our Tony Stark. We didn’t start study-buddying until junior year, I think.”

Tony nodded. “Junior year. Yeah.”

“Oh.” Smiling at him still. “What year were you in?” Saving you from making any more of a mess of this situation, your phone started ringing. And if that was happening now, with everyone you cared about in this room, that meant something else was going awry. You gave a small wave. “Sorry. I have to handle something.” 

You heard Tony push a breath out, and watched him stick his hands in his pockets before you turned and walked away. Why had you done that? What was the point? Maybe you were just that frazzled. Tony’s dating life before you was none of your business- but… come on. Some nineteen-something guy was hitting on a fourteen or fifteen year old? Gross. Disgusting. Nothing to be proud of. 

It took you too long to answer the call, and you saw no voicemail left. But a text came shortly after: 

Last person of the night bailed. Can’t make the delivery :( Can you send someone to come get it? 

Coming from your contact at the bakery just around the corner. Because of course it would. Of course that would happen to you. Looking up, you spied Pepper shyly chatting up some handsome man, and looking the other way, you saw Happy surrounded by a group of Stark employees all actually laughing at a joke he’d told. You could really pick anyone to go get it but… 

After the scene you’d caused, maybe it was better served that you pay your penance and take a walk. Tony seemed re-wrapped up in his little study group, so you excused yourself quietly and went back to the elevator. The bakery wasn’t far, and this cake was a special order. Something small for just you and Tony. His favorite kind with a loving message. Just something for after the party. For the two of you to share and enjoy and laugh over and… 

You barely remembered picking it up. Or rounding the corner as your phone buzzed again. Boxed cake in one hand, you shuffled awkwardly to pull your phone from your purse. Rhodey had texted you. 

Was that too much? Where’d you go? 

You thought to call him but realized he probably wouldn’t be able to hear you above all the noise. But before you could text you heard the telltale click of a camera shutter. So you made a sharp turn to cut between the alleyways between the building. On the other side you could cross the street and just dart into Stark Industries. But a man was following you. Calling your name. Incessantly. 

-and narrating to his tape recorder. “-and now I’m following her as she resists all questioning- hey! Do you have any comments about Christine Everhart’s newest evidence that Stark Industries is misappropriating funds meant for the disaster relief?” 

Was that still a story Christine was pursuing? Worse yet, pursuing now in the form of hiring paparazzi to follow you. It boiled your blood. So much so that you did the stupid thing. You turned. He stopped. And you cast an angry glare up his way. “Excuse me?” 

“Oh- good- hey- I’m just following the leads here- and it seems pretty obvious to me-” 

“Don’t you feel ashamed?” Now was not the time for this. Really. But after everything else… what harm could it do? If it could make your and Tony’s lives just even one percent easier… “Don’t you feel embarrassed? You went to college- I assume- for four years- for investigative journalism- and now you’re chasing tabloid stories? Don’t you just feel mortified?” 

He stared at you blankly for a long few moments before blinking, shaking his head. “God… you’re right… I don’t… I don’t know what I’m doing…” 

You held your hand out. “Give me that tape recorder.” Without thinking, since he was too far under the influence, he did so, and you immediately dropped it to the ground and stomped on it. “Go away now. Go home and think long and hard about your life.” 

You waited. Watching him turn around, mindlessly, and then walk away towards the other end of the alley. Back the way the two of you had came. It wasn’t until he turned and disappeared that you turned- just as the sound of a single pair of hands applauding startled you hard enough to drop the cake- the only reason you’d come out here. 

God damn it. God damn it. God damn every single person. 

Just a few feet away from you on the sidewalk you’d been headed towards, a smartly dressed man was still clapping his hands. The woman he was with was just standing there. Looking at him. That was until he flicked her hand at her. “Go away from me. Leave.” And then. She did. ...just like that. He stuck his hands in his pockets, aiming a very toothy smile your way. He was a little hard to see in the low light. “That’s a very neat trick, isn’t it. Quite the show. I’ve never seen anyone else pull one off like that before.” His accent was assuredly British. Chipper. Upbeat. Excitement was practically dripping off him.

You squared up, sensing only the most obvious of danger, the way he was approaching you. Something was off. “Get out of my way.” 

He stopped, just a bare two feet away from you, eyes watching yours. His large and brown and- “Ah-hah.” His smile grew even wider, and you were unnerved by everything about it. “You’re a babe. A… pup. You don’t know how to use that, do you?” He tipped his head up, smile disappearing underneath a self-questioning look. “Or maybe it doesn’t work- … do we cancel each other out?” Turning to look at you again with an inquisitive tip of his head, a little curl of the tip of his tongue at his teeth before he spoke again. “Come here. Come closer.” 

He hadn’t spoken it differently than he’d said anything else- except he had. And all of a sudden the heavy weight of those words bore down on you. Your feet lifted from underneath you. And control took over. 

Was this how you made people feel…? 

He was smiling again as you stopped right in front of him. “That answers that. ...oh- you’re- I can’t believe this-” Bending in closer to you, he examined your face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you- that makes more sense.” 

“Get away from me. Leave me alone.” No- that wasn’t going to work. So instead you raised your hand- Heart Reactor resting just underneath your jacket. 

But he now knew who you were. “Ah- stop that. Put your hand down.” And again, it was like those words wrapped tight around your wrist. Stopped you. And forced your hand away to your side. “Good pup. You know, I quite like puppies. Moldable.” Reaching out, he shifted back your hair from your shoulder and then touched your face. “Yes, quite like a puppy. With those big wet eyes of yours.”

You inched back, disgust coursing through you. So you threw it at him. “Don’t you feel revolted by your actions? Cornering a woman in an alleyway?” 

His brows lifted then, and he turned his head, hand covering his mouth. He seemed like he might really break if you just forced it a little more, but then his hand shot out, pushing you back against the wall. “That’s it, isn’t it. I mess with heads, you mess with hearts. Isn’t that something? Don’t move.” Silencing your struggles at once. “You’re a very interesting woman. I’d like to get to know you better, if you don’t mind. Say you don’t mind.” 

“I don’t mind.” It ejected out of you whether you wanted it to or not. 

He grinned. “Good pup. This is a good thing. Smile for me. Show me you’re happy we’ve met.” But this command was different. He was asking you to-... be happy. And as your eyes fogged over you saw the words of this order tangle around you and then shatter like glass. Because you would not be told to feel. 

You wouldn’t- you-

You stayed firm. Staring at him with only the most hate you could muster. Just the black pit in your heart. Reserved for this strange man. This strange man who was about to ruin your life. You were sure of it. Free of his control you dropped into the bright space. And saw him standing there atop the water. Unaware. So you ran, hands outstretched. Aiming to wrap them around his throat-

“Interesting.” He seemed truly puzzled, yet delighted. In some twisted way. “Very interesting. But that’s what puppies are good for. Breaking in.” You had to fight this. “Take your cell phone out.” Fight. FIGHT. But you were fighting something you could not see- wires. Puppet strings- something deep inside your veins. A purple wall sprung up between the two of you in that space. And then fell over you, boxing you in- shrinking- growing smaller and smaller and-

And back at the surface you tried to fight, even as he narrowed his eyes at your struggles- and struggle you did- shaking hard as your arm fought back against you. Like his own hand was wrapped around your wrist, forcing your hand into your bag, and bringing it forward. 

“I can’t have people looking for you. You’re a little more high profile than I like… but that’s easily remedied. Men like Tony Stark. They’re weak. And they don’t understand- not like I do. I think we’ll get along perfect. Tell me you agree.” 

Your mouth opened, but you forced it shut, teeth crunching together. Shivering. His hand came underneath your chin just as you’d thrown your head down just to get out of the line of his gaze. 

“Don’t fight me, pup.” That snapped your tethers, and you allowed your chin to be tilted up. “That’s a good puppy.” Patting you on the head. “Now, call Stark. Tell him- oh, I don’t know. Not a breakup- that’s too obvious- but tell him you need time to yourself. That usually works. Can’t have him come looking for you. Make it convincing.” 

The words penetrated your eardrums. Soaked into your brain. But tears started. Because like always, you just weren’t strong enough… and Tony was going to pay the price… 

Shaking, still- still trying to fight, as you pulled up his text chat and pushed through to call. It rang, and rang, and rang, and blissfully he didn’t answer. You thought that might be the end of it. But this man- 

“Leave a voicemail. Like I said, something convincing.” 

Your tears had turned to quiet sobbing. Which probably made it all the more convincing. And once it was over, that man took the phone from your hand and gave you another pat on the head. “There there, pup. It’s all over now. Give me your bag. And that- thingy too-” You let him take the bag off your shoulder, but were able to fully resist an order that made no sense. “Oh I’ll do it myself.” He reached into your jacket, through your dress, and pulled the Heart Reactor off your chest. Then he deposited both into your purse and looked around- 

Spotting a kid walking by the sidewalk, he called out. “Boy- come here.” So the kid did, walking up in a daze. “Drop that outside Stark Industries’ lobbies. If anyone asks what you’re doing, tell them she told you to bring it back for her. You don't know any more than that. Go.” 

Just as the kid turned to leave, you brought your knee up, straight into his gut. And as he keeled over, you slid away from him and tried to bolt. 

“Stop!” And you felt the command weigh your legs down, like you were running in quicksand. Trying to fight it. But that only made it worse. Standing now with your back to him. Still as you heard his footsteps draw closer and closer. Until you felt his fingers in the back of your hair. Squeezing. “You’re a very bad puppy. But that’s alright.” He came around, still holding you. Smiling. “I forgive you. Now come along. Put your arm in mine and let’s go.” 

Just as he held it out, it was like yours was instantly magnetized to his, sliding in. Stepping to his side as the two of you walked off into the night. “You’re going to regret this.” You promised. “I’m going to make you regret this.” 

For a brief moment he faltered. But then after a few seconds he barked a laugh into the air and tugged you. “You’ll have to teach me that. I quite like it. Much more effective. We’ll talk shop, pup. I can teach you a lot, too, you know. Seems like you could use the help. You’ll thank me, when it’s over.” 

I’m sorry, Tony. I’m sorry… I’m sorry… That’s all you ever were. And it had stopped being enough a long time ago.

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

The night drew on until the laughter died. Tony had stopped being entertained by the endless parade of guests about an hour ago. It was just inner circle now, and even though couldn’t hold his attention- especially when he realized- 

Where was she? He asked Steve- no idea. Nat- didn’t know. 

Rhodey? 

“I saw her slip out after the whole… thing.” 

She’d left? Over that? Seemed a silly thing to leave over. She hadn’t been that ruffled by it, right? It would have been surprising, to say the lease. But… she had seemed a little more harried than usual… maybe it just wasn’t the right time… 

“I texted her but… she never answered me. Probably mad.” Rhodey shrugged. 

Tony found himself shaking his head. “No-... that’s not like her.” Something about this was wrong. She’d been missing for hours he realized- ...only just now had he realized. He’d been too caught up in self aggrandizing bullshit to notice that she’d left- 

Pulling his phone out of his jacket pocket, he saw one single notification. From her. A voicemail. 

Fury- which, who had even invited him anyway, called out to him, but Tony held out a hand to silence him as he held his phone up. 

“Tony-” The sound of her crying immediately stole the strength from him, so much so that his knees went weak, sending him to a heavy sit on the couch. All eyes directed his way then. His hand was shaking so hard he couldn’t trust to hold the weight of his phone. So he put it on speaker. “Tony I’m sorry. I’m sorry about this… I’m so sorry… I’ve just been thinking and I… I just need some time. To think. To figure things out- I’m sorry… please understand… I- I love you… I do… and I’m sorry. I need you to keep an eye on LUNA for me. While I’m gone.” 

Everyone had gathered. 

Rhodey had a hand over his mouth. “Tones…” 

The phone dropped out of his hand. He was staring off somewhere far into the distance. Steve put a hand on his shoulder from behind. “Tony… she’ll come back.” 

“She was taken.” Someone came and snatched her up. Right off the street. 

Nat sat down across from him. “What do you mean? How could you know that?” 

Fury rounded the table. “Let’s not jump to conclusions.” 

“She was taken.” Someone had taken her off the god damn street. And he’d been boozing and laughing all evening. When even more voices of dissent rained on him, he got to his feet, pacing. “LUNA, what is Ms. INY’s last known location?” 

 I need you to keep an eye on LUNA for me. Good job, honey. However she’d been threatened into making that call, she’d left him a clue. She was so fucking smart. He would get her back. Just hold on for me, honey. Please…

LUNA’s voice lit up the room. “Ms. INY’s belongings are down in the lobby. Last known location before that was across the street.” So. The criminals were not completely inept. They’d made her dump her things. Not destroy. But dump. To try and make it less obvious. 

But it was obvious. 

“Tony, it seems like she dropped her stuff and took off.” 

“That’s not like her, don’t you get it?” Whirling around on this mountain of naysayers. Everything had been fine, hadn’t it…? Nothing had prompted this. They’d been happy just a day ago- ...hadn’t they? “That’s not like her. She wouldn’t just leave. JARVIS get me all surveillance footage from five blocks out.” She’d been across the fucking street when someone had taken her. 

That was a clear cut sign someone was trying to fuck with him. Someone had the guts to take her right across from where they lived- 

“All police records for that area from seven PM this evening to just an hour ago have been erased, sir.” 

All eyes were on him. Finally in his corner. He shouldn’t have had to convince them at all. Didn’t they know her better than that? Bruce touched his arm. “...where should we start?” 

Where to start? Where to start? A good question. Someone with high level authority- or access- had dumped police footage. His list of enemies was way too long- 

Fury took command. “Alright. Listen up Avengers. Someone just came into your house and stole one of your teammates off the god damn street. What are you gonna do about it?” 

Wait for me, honey. Hang in there. I’m coming. 

Tony only knew one answer. “I’m gonna end them.” 

[saint-patrice]

Can you do the picture thing with pasta?

i can indeed my friend! 😎 i love our czech noodle boy with all my heart, so let’s get this show on the road:

see here for other posts like this one! i am also taking requests for ‘em :)

i’m putting this photo first because i found it to be personally and deeply transformative. i have always adored pastrnak, but was on the fence for a while as to whether i also found him physically attractive. this picture give me an aggressive shove off of said fence, and i then proceeded to land in a pile of my own feelings for this man. not that he even needs it in the first place, but that shirt is doing miraculous things

🎶 walk, walk fashion baby, work it move that bitch crazy🎶 despite his teammates’ best efforts to take the piss out of him for it, pasta really is our resident fashion icon, and i love that. this suit is stunning, and i’m usually iffy about suits w sneakers, but it actually looks rather lovely on this occasion. i now feel inspired to go find a pair of renaissance-looking floral trousers of my very own

joyous!! a beautiful ray of sunshine!!!! we are so lucky to have him, i really really love the energy and ~vibe~ he seems to bring to the team. my sample size of one (me) perhaps makes my findings unreliable, but i do believe that it is scientfically impossible to not smile when looking at pasta smiling

i go completely apeshit every time i see pastrnak’s tattoo - it’s absolutely gorgeous. if i remember correctly (please holler at me if i’m wrong), a lot of it is in memory of his father too, which is really nice. pasta is an amazing player in his own right, but when you hear about his childhood and what he had to work through, i think it makes you appreciate what he’s managed to achieve - especially at such a young age - all that much more. we’re proud of you pasta!!

noodle man says gay rights. fuck yeah!

is there a shortage of snacks in the nhl?? why does everyone feel the need to munch on their equipment??? i’m so confused. whatever the case, this is hella cute, and makes me smile like an utter fool 

oh no, there he goes :(

sometimes i’m having a bad day and then i remember this picture exists and you know what? smiles is better. pasta would make a good life coach. it will not solve your problems, but sometimes just putting on a smile can make them seem a bit easier. anon i’m so sorry, you probably just wanted a lighthearted photo post but here we are, getting very philosophical. blame pasta. tl;dr, smiles is better and david pastrnak is amazing

what locker room shenanigans are these boys getting up to? and do i even want to know? this post was a blessing from the bruins instagram tbh. also uhhh boy’s got some fuckin legs jesus h christ 👀 watch where you’re putting those things

oh my god!!!! who let him look this good holy shit. i think navy might be pasta’s colour, and i can totally get on board with the navy/coral combo too. absolute style king, through and through

this is, i think, my absolute favourite pasta lewk. it’s fairly simple, but i love the colour scheme (see my above point), and the matching waistcoat + jacket really make it. i am also smitten with those shoes for some reason. plus i think the headband is literally just so good???? like hell yes, i am very much here for all of pasta’s hair accessorising 

something in me feels like pasta frequently gets in mild trouble with the bruins pr team because he is just slightly chaotic. case and point: mr pastrnak just distributing gatorade thingys to the audience at the all star skills event lmaoooo i love him

the grey shirt is back - be still my beating heart. oh lord. he looks so fucking good. i cannot stop looking at this

okay so pasta literally scores the dirtiest, sexiest goals i’ve ever seen. do yourself a favour and look up some compilations on youtube. thank me later, because every single one of them is fucking delightful, with the occasional one honestly getting me a bit hot and bothered 

i wouldn’t put it past him to just walk into td garden on a tuesday in april with this getup 

this is a strong candidate for my favourite social media interaction ever. “hey spaghetti man” is such a strong opener and i think it gave me whiplash, but nothing can be as iconic as “it calls style in europe”. sometimes that’s my response when my friend gives me a look for wearing an outlandish shirt or loud pants - they have no idea what i’m actually referencing, and also we live in europe, so they usually just try to ignore it. this is also a good photo in general, pasta looks v cute. i can only assume those jorts (let’s call them as they are, folks) were intact when he bought them but his legs, as we can see, are so powerful that they broke free 🤷🏻‍♀️

i mean this is like,, very sexy of him to look like that and that’s all i think i can safely say about this gif, at least on this new pg website tumblr has tried to create…

i reblogged this with the tag #oh…….worm? and i stand by that. like, sir?? hello??? do you have any idea what you’re doing to me???? i just cannot catch a break from this man’s sheer beauty 

(gif via @gaudreau) oh my god i actually love him - he really is our little ray of sunshine 💖 i don’t even know what tf he’s doing but he’s so cute so it does not matter. this also reminds me of that one clip of him doing the macarena in front of a green screen while wearing his skates for some media thing

this is like the only goddamn gif i could find of it but pasta passing the empty net goal to bergy during his 1000th game is one of the sweetest things i’ve ever seen anyone do on the ice???? it was just a little gesture but i think it’s a testament to the team dynamic, as well at the type of person pasta is (ie lovely). sometimes i tear up thinking about this game if truth be told (yes i’m a baby leave me alone)

i know i said i liked the blue suit the Most but this is a close second,, that is such a crisp fit he looks so mf good mmmmmmmm . also what a lovable buffoon 

handsome man alert !!!! this is not a very good picture to demonstrate the fact, but pasta has really nice eyes like i’m legitimately jealous >:(

(gif via @formulaice7) a better man would have been able to pick just one of these to include, but better men are off doing something far more productive than this, so you are stuck with me, who is chronically indecisive. but i saw these gifs and my only reaction was “oh fuck” and i do believe that is appropriate. maybe it’s just my weird opinion, but one thing sexier than shirtless? almost shirtless. (but i mean there’s plenty of fully shirtless pasta out there if u want it) the hand hanging on that hook is also kinda getting to me. he is just very beautiful

sometimes i wonder why the majority of the nhl has no personality and then i remember - david pastrnak is literally hoarding it all…!

lads, it’s official: this is the only photo i need to look at for the rest of my life. if this is not the energy you are bringing, i don’t want to fw you

and here ends my very first david pastrnak lovepost - thank you for the request anon, i hope you enjoy!!! :) i love pasta with all my little heart so i really loved doing this one and in all honesty could probably be talked into doing another one pretty easily if anyone is interested, bc there’s a lot of photos and gifs i didn’t use (i don’t want to make these like 50 photos long yknow). as mentioned at the top of the post, feel free to send me any requests you may have!!

[miss-annthropic]

Just a little something responding to a prompt challenge issued by @amaradangeli

Five word prompt: I said I love you

Forgive me if this is wonky… it's my first time posting on tumblr!

I Said I Love You by MissAnnThropic

“What?”

The deer-in-the-headlights look on her face made Samantha Carter appear impossibly young.  It was almost funny to think that amid all the advanced astrophysics that she fielded without falter, this was what drew her up short.

“I said I love you,” Jack repeated, easily and without fanfare.  Like he had said it a thousand times before.  In a way, he had.

But not in a way that Sam would understand.

Sam looked a unique blend of panicked and confused as her eyes darted around the bustling embarkation room, toward General Hammond standing well within earshot of the two officers, at her teammates who were just as agog as Sam.  Daniel’s owlish eyes and ‘o’ of a mouth, Teal’c’s single raised eyebrow.  The witnesses.  All those witnesses.

Jack couldn’t muster the energy to worry about any of that.  It was hard to imagine he ever had.  He felt older than his years.

“General…” Sam began.  The one word was almost an appeal.  ‘Don’t listen to him!’

General Hammond looked concerned more than he was angry, which was probably for the best.  “Colonel?  Are you all right?”

Jack stuffed his hands in his pockets, gave an ambiguous head tilt, and moved his eyes back to her.  When she looked his way again, he offered a small smile.  A smile with more heart that he’d ever dared before.

It seemed to freak her out as much as his declaration of love.  “General, something happened to Colonel O’Neill on the planet… we’re not entirely sure, but we got separated.  When we found him, he was disoriented.  It might even be a concussion!”

Jack’s fond smile twisted.  Trust her to find the out, the way to dismiss what he’d said.  Throwaway words.  Nonsense.  The ramblings of a head injury.  Never anything real.  Perish the thought.

General Hammond nodded.  “Colonel, report to the infirmary immediately.”

Jack felt the world start to hang off his bones, heavy and old.  “Yes, sir.”  His eyes didn’t stay on Hammond long.  When he moved, Sam almost jumped back to clear a path for him.

All traces of Jack’s smile vanished.

**********

Given Jack’s proclamation in the gate room, Jack’s medical exam and debrief were conducted separate from the rest of his team.  It meant he’d have to repeat himself when the rest of SG-1 hunted him down for details, but not being there when he told Hammond what had happened was no doubt easier on Sam.

The things Jack had to say would have made her uncomfortable.  Especially in front of the general.

Jack was in the infirmary and then Hammond’s office so long that it was into the early morning hours when he was finally released.  His team was nowhere to be found.  Part of Jack was glad for the reprieve.  For him, it was as though the mission had lasted years instead of days. 

And he was not surprised Sam had bolted. 

And yet, he was also not surprised to find Sam perched against the hood of her car in front of his house when he got home.  Despite the hour.  Despite everything, really.

“Sam,” he said softly when he got out of truck.

Sam was already starting toward him but hesitated at her name.  She frowned.  He knew why, but after everything, he couldn’t bring himself to call her ‘Carter’.

“Sir…”

Jack winced and looked toward his house.  “You sure you want to be here?  After the gate room and all… someone might get the wrong idea if we’re seen.”

He knew he sounded bitter, but he couldn’t seem to help it.

Sam narrowed her eyes.  “Are you mad that I care what the general thinks?”  The spaces between her words accused him of being just as guarded and mindful of their reputation as she.

Once upon a time.

“No.”  He sighed.  “Anger would imply there was a possibility you might react any other way, doesn’t it?”

Sam looked confused.  He couldn’t blame her.  That didn’t mean it hurt less, though.

“Come on,” he said in resignation.  “At least let me tell you what happened.”  She might not understand, but at least she’d know why.

Sam looked wary of being alone in his home with him at night, all things considered, but her curiosity won out.

Some things never changed… like Sam’s need to solve a puzzle.

**********

They ended up sitting on the steps of Jack’s back porch with beers in hand and a tense silence between them.  The night was cool and the world asleep but for them, as though the universe had withdrawn to give them this time.  The stars they traveled dotted the sky above, a moving passport they could never hold.

Sam was staring up at them in studied silence.  Jack wasn’t sure if she was truly that engrossed or just avoiding looking at him.  It might have been because he was staring.  He couldn’t seem to help that, either.

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, cleared her throat, and took a gulp of beer.  “So…”

“So.”

Sam’s lips twitched in annoyance and she finally turned to look at him.  “What happened on the planet?”

Jack steeled himself to tell the story twice in one night… though Sam would get details he’d omitted from his debrief with Hammond.

“You remember that Macaw Moron?”

Sam huffed a laugh.  “That wasn’t his title.”

“Hey, a guy wears a costume made out of feathers every color under the sun, he has to expect some ridicule.”

Sam rolled her eyes.  “Colonel…”

“Right.”  Jack looked down intently at his beer, picking at the label with his thumbnail.  “I tracked him down while the rest of you were at the banquet.  I had some concerns about his errand boys.”

Sam frowned uneasily.  “They didn’t seem mistreated.”

“Those kids were scared of him, and I was going to find out why.”  Jack scowled at the memory, then shook his head.  “I found him in some kind of lab.  Not like yours or Daniel’s… way more mad scientisty.  Think Frankenstein’s laboratory and a Sherman Williams paint store had a head-on collision.”

“Sir…”

Jack flinched.  “Do you know what the locals called Macaw Moron?  It’s not that lame-ass title he told Daniel.”

Sam looked intrigued.

“Pathbender.”

“Why?” Sam asked.

“He can… I don’t even know how to explain what he does.  All I can tell you is what he did.  I never left that room, but somehow I lived a different version of my life.”

“Like you were a different version of you?” Sam asked.

“No.  It was me, but things kept veering farther off course from this reality.  First in little ways, then in big ones, too.”

At Sam’s silence, Jack looked over and found her justifiably confused.  “I don’t understand.”

The second attempt at recounting the story was no easier than the first with Hammond.  The poor man had looked like he was nursing a headache by the time Jack left.  “Do you remember Dr. Carter from that alternate universe?”

Sam tensed in obvious discomfort.  “Of course.”

“Well, you know how you explained it to me?  Forks in the road and all that?”

“Yeah…”

Jack nodded.  “That’s what it was.  Whatever this Macaw guy did, wherever it was he sent me, it let me go left where I’d normally go right.”

“And to the left was…” Sam trailed, as if she already knew.  As if she would have always known what the left would hold.

“Us.”

Sam went dead silent.

Jack couldn’t bring himself to look at her.  He didn’t want to know if there was denial written all over her face.  If she was flat-out rejecting the mere idea of what he’d lived.  “It was every moment we’ve ever had to choose,” and god knew there were so many of them, “but in this other reality, every time there was a choice, we didn’t choose the Air Force.”

He fell silent to let that sink in.  To let her remember all the rights they had made and what it would have meant if they’d gone left instead.

“I…” and there it was, the great Sam Carter lost for words.

Jack peeled off a piece of the beer label where he’d worked up a corner.  “It was terrifying how easy it all was.  Maybe it was designed to be.”  Jack shrugged and tossed the rolled bit of paper into his dark lawn.

“So you and I, in this other reality…”

“Figured out how to make it work.  We made it work.  Dated.  Eventually, we got married.”

Sam startled and her beer clunked to the deck step below her.  She scrambled to right it before it made too much of a mess.  “We… married?”

“You could act a little less surprised, Sam,” Jack groused.

Her mouth opened and closed without sound a few times before she croaked, “Colonel, I…”

“Stop.”

“Sir…”

“Please, Sam.”  The pain in his voice quieted her.

Jack looked over at her with an apologetic grimace.  “Sorry, I just… I got used to you calling me Jack.  It’s hard to hear you using ‘colonel’ and ‘sir’ again.”

For a moment, Sam was speechless.  Then she was practically whispering.  “It wasn’t me.”

“I know… but it was so real.  You were so real.”

“But it wasn’t real, Colonel.”

Jack shot her a beady look.  “It was.”

“No, sir. I’m sorry, but whatever that man did to you must have caused some kind of vivid, detailed hallucination, and while it may have seemed very real to you…”

While she was talking, Jack kicked out one leg to dig into his pocket.  His hand came out fisted and he held it out to her.  Absently, mid-lecture, Sam held out her hand.  Jack dropped something into her palm.

Sam’s words died on her lips as she looked down at a woman’s wedding ring in her hand.

“It was real,” Jack insisted.  “For whatever else it was, I know that much.”

Sam gaped down at the ring in her hand, still warm from Jack’s pocket.  She looked from him to the ring.  “Is… was this…”

“Yours.”  Jack downed the rest of his beer, set the bottle aside, then reached over to fetch Sam’s abandoned one from between her feet and chug from that, too.

Sam pinched the ring between her thumb and forefinger to examine it more closely in the porch light behind them.  He could tell the moment it clicked.  “This is my mom’s.”

“I know.”

“Sir!  How did you…”

“Dad gave it to me, when I told him I was going to propose to you.”

Sam’s eyes were tearing up as she traced her thumb over the familiar piece of jewelry.  “Holy Hannah…”

“It was real,” Jack repeated.  He needed that to be fact.

Sam nodded mutely.  She clutched the ring and sniffed.  “How long…”

“Twelve years passed for me in there.”

Sam let out a stunned breath.  “But how is that even possible?  You’re not twelve years older.”

“I don’t know how it’s possible… all I know is I have years of memories with you.  Whatever he did, coming back didn’t undo that.”

Sam looked like she wanted to protest the science, the impossibility, but she was holding her mother’s wedding ring as damning proof.  There was no way Jack could have it, dinged and scuffed with wear only an unaccounted-for twelve years could explain, unless it was somehow true.

“You never wore your ring to work in the labs,” Jack muttered as though to himself.  “You always left it in the nightstand in the morning.  I took it so I could get it engraved with our initials.  Tenth anniversary surprise.  We had plans to go out to dinner that night, then you were getting a week of vacation so we could head up to the cabin.”  Jack took in a slow, deep breath.  “Then everything was gone and you and Daniel and Teal’c were pulling me out of that psychedelic bathtub.”

Sam raked her free hand through her hair and rubbed her eyes against her shirt sleeve.  She didn’t even bother trying to hide the fact she was crying.

Jack closed his eyes and waited a beat before he gathered the nerve to say what was weighing heavy on his heart.  “I don’t think I can do this anymore, Sam.”

“Do what?” Sam asked in a small voice.

“This.  Our endless game of chicken.  Whatever you want to call it.  I’m done.  I’m out.”

“What do you mean ‘out’?”  Sam straightened and her voice gained steel.  “You don’t mean out of the Air Force.”

“Maybe.”

“Colonel…”

Jack flinched.  “Please, Sam…”

“What about the team?”

“They’ll find someone else to lead it.  Hell, Hammond might even give it to you.”

“I don’t want it!”  Sam closed her fist around the wedding ring, her tears transformed.  “You can’t do this, we need you.”

“Daniel and Teal’c will be fine,” Jack said with certainty.  He cut a sideways look at her.  “And you don’t need me the way I want you to.”

Sam surged off the steps into the grass and rounded on Jack.  “That’s not fair.  You can’t just quit and expect me to fall in line with whatever fantasy you lived.”

Jack looked up at her calmly.  “I don’t expect you to.  This isn’t about trying to have that life.”

“Then what is it about?”

Jack sighed and looked off into the darkness, gathering his thoughts.  “Regulations, I guess.  Which, isn’t that a kick in the ass.”

“What?”

“Fraternization within a chain of command is against regulations because it could compromise someone in the field, right?”

Sam nodded warily.

“Well, I’m compromised.  Full stop.  I love you.  And I know it’s not fair, because it wasn’t you you who let me, but close enough.”

Sam’s hands hung at her side, her expression dumbfounded.

“And I don’t expect anything from you,” Jack assured.  “And I understand if you can’t love me back.”

“It’s not…” Sam started, stopped, then lowered her voice miserably.  “My ability to love you was never the problem.”

That didn’t feel as good as Jack was hoping.  Not when Sam looked so dejected at the loss of her commanding officer on SG-1.

Jack stood and carefully approached her.  When they were almost toe to toe, she finally looked up at him. 

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” Jack said.

“Don’t leave the team.”

“I have to, Sam.  You know I do.  If I can’t stop feeling this way about you… it’s a liability, and you know it.  Besides, I don’t want to stop feeling this way.”

Sam looked up at him, startled.

Jack gave a lopsided smile.  “You know I hate clichés, but that whole ‘tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all…?  Sort of applies here.”

Sam shook her head.  “I’m not lost.  I’m right here.”

“Not the way I want you.  And that’s okay.  But I just can’t go back to the way we were before and act like nothing’s different.”

“You’ve been through rough missions before… you always came back.”

Jack shrugged.  “Turns out there’s no coming back from loving you.”  And he was okay with that.

Sam sagged.  “Then I guess that’s that.  No more SG-1.”

It felt awful and good at the same time.  “Hammond will find someone to replace me.  He was probably going to have to do it sooner than later, anyway.”

Sam eyed him.  “You’re frighteningly okay with all of this.”

Jack smiled.  He woke up that morning with Sam in his arms.  As far as grand finales goes, they didn’t get any grander.  Even if it was ripped from him.  He offered only a nonchalant shrug in response.

Sam looked down at her hand, uncurling her fingers to ponder her mother’s ring again, then she chuckled.  “I still can’t believe you said that in the gate room.  In front of Hammond.”

Jack snorted.  “Not one of my finer moments,” he conceded.  “Though in my defense, I’d just spent a decade where I didn’t have to stop myself.”

“I can’t even imagine…”

“You can’t?” Jack asked, a little hurt at the idea.

Sam winced.  “Well, maybe I can.  But I shouldn’t.”

“Yes, well… that won’t be the case much longer.”

Sam heaved a breath and stepped back.  He should have expected that would be too much too soon.  “I should go.”

“Sure.”

He meant to let her leave, but when she reached the deck steps he turned toward her.  “Sam?”

She turned back.

“No matter what happens, please tell me that we’ll still be friends.”  He would never not need her, and he’d take having her in his life any way she’d allow.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easy, sir.”  When Jack flinched again, she deliberately corrected herself.  “Jack.”

Something aching in his chest eased.  “Thank you.”

Sam cocked her head as she looked down at him, a question practically bursting to be asked by the expression on her face.

“What?” he prodded.

“Were we good together?” she asked softly, as though it was scandalous to even speak it.

Jack smiled roguishly.  “What do you think?”

For a moment there was only that familiar tension between them of too much held back, then Sam grinned, teeth and dimples and everything.  She looked down at her hand thoughtfully a second, then she descended the steps again and marched up to Jack, holding out her hand.

“Here,” Sam said as she placed the wedding ring in his palm.  “Hang on to this…” her eyes flicked up to his, “maybe one day you can give it back to me properly.”

Jack’s head came up at once, his eyes locked on Sam in unbridled hope.

An unmistakable glint twinkled in her eye.  “You decided to change everything, so you damn well better make it count.”

Jack grinned.  “Oh, I intend to.”

Sam smirked, and it felt like a new direction.  It felt like finally going left.

[teuvoterafinen]

Not the Same - Part 1

Author’s Note: Alright, guys. I’ve never written hockey stuff before, but I’ve been wanting to for a while. This is going to be a multi-part, probably slow burn piece and I’m still not sure who I want the love interest to be, but Auston is definitely going to be the best friend. It’s also completely self indulgent, so tolerate me. Inspired by my crushed dreams of William playing Center next season and the possibility of Elias Lindholm getting traded in the near future.

If you want me to write anything, just shoot me an ask!

Word Count: 2212

Warnings: I curse like a sailor, drinking, references to lady balls???

April was never meant to be this cold, you thought, fumbling for your keys outside of your basement apartment. It was the only thing you could afford, having moved up to Toronto on just more than a whim. Four months ago, you were a college student in Raleigh, North Carolina and now it was 3am and you had just gotten back from your second bartending job, completely exhausted from your nearly sixteen-hour day. The key stuck in the lock and your fingers were quickly going numb, but the door eventually swung open. 

It was a decent space for what you were paying for it, just a kitchen, bathroom and an open living area. Most of your books were still in boxes against the wall and a wooden futon was serving as a bed and a couch, much to the dismay of your back. It had been hours, apart from the car ride, since you had sat down, so within seconds, both of your Dr. Martens were off and you’d laid yourself out, face down against the blanket. You probably would have fallen asleep in your work clothes if it weren’t for the abrupt chorus of a Swedish rap song screaming from your phone. You groaned as you flopped over to silence it, contemplating whether answering was a good idea, knowing exactly who it was.

On the forth ring, you decided that he would probably end up calling back if you didn’t answer.

“What the fuck, Lindy? It’s nearly four in the morning.” You garbled out the teasingly angry statement at your favorite Swede, who you’d become close friends with while you lived in Raleigh. Elias Lindholm had kept in touch with you after you’d moved to Toronto when very few of your other friends had reached out. It was less lonely now, but sometimes you still needed the familiar voice.

“Y/N, I need your help. I told a friend of mine that I had a friend, who lives in Toronto that needs a new place and I was drunk and I didn’t ask you first, but he’s looking for a roomie, so what do you think?”

“Woah, slow down. How?”

“Alcohol and golf? And Instagram?”

“Okay, yeah, makes sense,” you shrugged, knowing that that was pretty much all he’d been doing for the past week. It was really a shame that the Canes didn’t get to the playoffs this year, but you were jealous of how much free time your friend had. What you wouldn’t give to be playing golf and going to concerts. Work was always first now that you had to support yourself.

“Just hear me out, the house is apparently really nice and you wouldn’t have to deal with him or his other roommates too often. They just want someone else to be at the house so they can get a dog.” He really did know how to get you to listen. Having a backyard for a potential dog was always at the top of your list of domestic goals. Unfortunately, it was unlikely that you would be able to afford that without roommates.

“Alright, I’ll check it out. Who is it anyway?” you questioned. Suddenly you were skeptical of who he was about to set you up with. You got along well with most of the Canes, but they were generally pretty mellow. As much as you loved being social, wild parties weren’t exactly your scene and some of Elias’s friends were more than a little wild.

There was a pause on the other side of the phone and you heard him shout in Swedish, presumably to one of his teammates. He was speaking too fast for you to even think about keeping up, so you drifted back onto your pillow, letting him finish. “Tell the boys I say hi,” you mentioned after a brief pause. “And tell Victor he still owes me a hundred dollars. I could use the money about now.” They were on speaker at this point and you could tell it was Rask in the background. He’d had the nerve to bet you couldn’t make one save against him. You obviously weren’t going to let that slide and you managed a perfect glove save on the first shot.

“Rasky says he’ll pay your first month’s rent if you can put up with Willy for that long,” Lindy laughed, but his statement had caused you to jolt up.

“No, there is no fucking way. I’m not living with William Nylander.” There was a bit of motion on the other end, and some muffled cursing. You had met him a couple times. Last time he spilled his beer on you while incredibly drunk at a party, looked down at your then see through shirt and said “Boobs!” before turning and walking away. You laughed about it later with the guys, but Willy was not someone that you desired to spend an extended amount of time with.

“Y/N, hey,” Rask slurred, having taken the phone from the other man. “I told him you wouldn’t do it. I knew you didn’t have the balls.” You sighed, attempting to keep your cool, you tried hard not to give him the rise that he expected out of you.

“I think you have the lady balls!” Shouted an incredibly intoxicated Jeff Skinner and the rest of the group erupted into hysterical giggles. After a good minute, they seemed to calm down and Elias managed to get the phone back.

“I’m sorry, I already gave him your number,” Elias admitted. You were more than a little pissed, but it wasn’t like he was actually going to call. “I also gave him your address and told him that you didn’t work tomorrow, so he should stop by. He seemed really excited to meet you again.” There was definitely a hint of remorse in his voice, but the fact that your only day to sleep in might have been hijacked…You couldn’t help but be angry.

“It’s my one day off,” you practically whined, “I don’t want to have to deal with goldilocks. Does he even remember last time? Or did you just tell him that we met before?”

“I might have had to remind him.”

“I sent him that video of you in a bikini catching a beer and shotgunning it out of your goalie glove,” Victor added.

“I can’t fucking believe you two.”

An unfamiliar ring tone broke you from what seemed like a brief nap and you rejected the call immediately. Nothing was going to get you out of bed before at least midafternoon; the only obvious reaction was to roll over and go back to sleep. Fifteen minutes later the phone rang again. Looking at your phone, this time you were conscious enough to check the time: 2 o’clock in the afternoon. You groaned and answered the probable telemarketer, the events of last night far from your mind.

“Hi, is this Y/N?” A man questioned, shaking you from sleep.

“Yeah, who is this,” your voice cracked.

“It’s William, Elias Lindholm’s friend. I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” Your early morning conversation was slowly coming back to you and as reluctant as you were to talk to the Leaf this soon after waking up, you found it very difficult to be rude most of the time.

Clearing your voice quickly away from your phone, you responded with fake alertness, “No, I was actually just about to make lunch. What’s up?”

“Really? That’s perfect. We were just in the neighborhood and were wondering if we could stop by.” You scrambled to your feet at the realization that you might soon be having company, rushing to grab a change of clothes and a ball cap from the dresser. There was a pair of black ripped jeans on the dresser that you always thought looked good on you. Check. Finding a clean shirt was more of a challenge. 

“Uh, sure, I don’t see why not,” you mumbled trying to pull the fly on your pants while holding the phone to your ear. There you were, pulling on skinny jeans while on the phone, trying to make it sound like you weren’t hopping around on one leg in attempt to get the waistband over your too big ass. It crossed your mind briefly how the wealthy athlete just happening to be in your neighborhood of all places was a bit of a stretch. “I’m not super prepared for company. . . Are you guys close by?” There were a couple long seconds of silence on the other end of the line before he responded again.

“Well, we’re actually already at your place. We’ve kind of been driving around the block waiting for you to pick up.” Of course. The Toronto Maple Leafs were on your doorstep and you couldn’t find a shirt. You quickly grabbed an old band tee from the top of your laundry basket that you didn’t think you wore to work, shamefully did a sniff test and pulled it over your head.

The fact that the blonde’s statement didn’t actually come as a surprise was a testament to the amount of time you had spent around professional hockey players. None of them seemed to know the concept of making plans, they all just assumed they could show up to your apartment, eat your leftovers and watch shitty shows on your Netflix account. You would always forgive them when they asked if you’d make dinner, like a bunch of huge, rowdy kids coming in from a game of road hockey. Laughing lightly, you pulled your well-worn Blue Jays hat on over your mess of bed head and went to the kitchen to start on the lunch that you had lied about.

“Sorry…You can park on the side of the road right in front of the apartment. I’m down the stairs.”

“Awesome! We’ll be down in a minute,” he chimed before hanging up. He honestly didn’t seem so bad, now that you’d spoken to him while you were both sober. Maybe living with him would have more pluses than minuses. And Victor would pay the bill for the first month. You wouldn’t have to deal with your ceiling leaking during storms and the constant smell of old cigarette smoke that had soaked in to the cheap carpeting. You might even be able to start saving for a car. Not that you didn’t love your ‘98 Camry to bits, but she was coming up on a much-deserved retirement.

The clamor of muffled voices could be heard all the way in your kitchen through the thin front door and suddenly you were a bit nervous. You were already walking over when they knocked, unlocking the deadbolt and the main lock before pausing for a second. Nylander was one thing, but it hadn’t crossed your mind who else might be on the other side of the door. I look like a slob. I should have washed my face again, there’s probably make up under my eyes. Do I even understand the concept of looking cute anymore??? Biting the bullet, you swung the door wide to reveal Willy, Kasperi Kapanen, and, the nail in your coffin, Auston Matthews. You thanked your lucky stars that they hadn’t shown up to your door in suits, your neighbors were bound to talk about three of Toronto’s golden boys showing up on your doorstep, let alone wearing designer brands.

“Hey, Willy,” you smiled, forcing yourself to push back the sudden panic that had taken you by surprise. The three made their way through the doorway and you awkwardly reached out your hand to introduce yourself to the two that you had yet to meet. Kapanen accepted it graciously, Matthews was standing further back, closing the door behind them. “I’m Y/N…” It wasn’t exactly easy to say how you knew William, so you just avoided that part. “I’m sorry about the mess, I wasn’t really expecting to do anything today.” The blond had already gone over to sit on your futon/bed and was about to put his feet up on the coffee table when you cast a look in his direction that had a clear message attached.

“I’m Kappy,” the Finnish man introduced himself, laughing at your silent reprimand of his friend.

“Auston.” The American nodded from a distance and didn’t reach out to shake your hand. He instead took the time to look at you like everything about you confused him. The rumors of his ‘too cool’ attitude were all too true it seemed. Tall and handsome in his ripped skinny jeans that did nothing to hide his impressive physique. He leaned against the door like he owned the place, like his shitty band shirt was somehow cooler than your shitty band shirt. He oozed competitiveness and you felt yourself drowning in it. You didn’t know what game you were playing, but you couldn’t let him win. The room was tense as you sweated through your internal monologue, interrupted only by a sly smirk slipping onto Auston’s face as he reached up to pull the Jays hat off his head.

“So did you guys call each other to plan your outfits? I would say I feel left out, but I don’t think I could twin that perfectly if I tried.”

[that-terrible-writer]

Everybody Knows

Such a tiny gif, but I couldn’t find any bigger ones that worked. Again, found on Google; so credit to who it’s due to.

I know I said I would post two other stories prior to this one but I just had to write this out. I’ve been having a shit month, now going through immigration bullshit that I haven’t had time to write. I’m sorry for those who follow me. It’s just been hard due to money problems, tax shit and the many trips I have to make to immigration. So as a way to say sorry, here is a 4.5k part three to Ray.

Ray Palmer x Reader

Part 3

Part 1 2

Warning: Not as much as an asshole as I wanted to be.

“Everybody knows is so good, my heart and feelings”

“It’s okay. I didn’t need a heart anyway. What is do need is a part 3.”

You had been arguing with Harry for over an hour, going nowhere in the disagreement. You mentioned him that you wanted to go on at least one mission with the Legends, to see if you would enjoy it as much as your alternate self did. Harry was obvious why he was against your decision, and that was due to one person: Ray Palmer.

"I'm going, Wells, and that's final!" You yelled, narrowing your eyes at your boyfriend. You continued to pack your bag, placing in some prototypes that you had been working on, but Harry was quick to snatch your bag away. You leaned forward on the metal table, having your arms bent that you were peering underneath Wells, sneering at him, "It's not my fault that you're insecure about Palmer!"

"I'm insecure?" Harry laughed, placing his hands on his chest; offended with your statement. He walked away from you for a second, to try and control his emotions but it was just something he could let slip by, "You dated Palmer! I have every right to be against the idea of you traveling with him!"

"My alternate self dated him! I didn't!" You defended. You moved away from the table, walking around it to get to Harry, "You just don't trust me then." That was something you shouldn't have said. The moment that sentence left your mouth, Harry was quick with his counter.

"Explain what I saw at Jitters then," He reminded you, crossing his arms, just staring dead straight at you. You swallowed hard, your heart sinking as you recalled the look on Harry's face when he had interrupted you and Palmer. You knew that if Harry hadn't had stepped in, you would have kissed Palmer and not have a second thought about it. You pressed your lips into a thin line, remaining silent; Harry knew what your silence meant. He turned away from you, giving out a heavy sigh, "Y/N, I trust you. It's clear that Palmer is unquestionably still in love with you."

"I have it handle," You muttered, reaching to grab your bag to return to packing some more weapons, "I want to know what it's like to be part of the Legends." You confessed, shrugging your shoulders.

"You're part of Team Flash," Harry weakly got out. You turned, your eyebrows scrunched low with your mouth partly ajar. It felt like a knife had stabbed your heart. Harry returned his gaze to look at you, covering his mouth to try and hold back by saying anything else.

"I'm not betraying the team, Harry!" You threw your bag to the ground. You stuck out your finger, poking Harry in his chest: continuing the fight. It would have been another lover's quarrel if only if it was between the two of you. In the other room, the control room of Team Flash, stood both teams trying their best not to listen in.

"Couldn't they just go have this fight at their place?" Mick grumbled, taking a sip out of his beer. His eyes quickly caught the expression Ray was wearing, who was looking out towards the doorway, "How are you holding up, haircut?" Ray turned to look at his teammate; surprised at the concern that Mick was giving him.

"Oh," Ray softly said, being caught off guard, "I'm good, great one might say." Mick thought that was Ray's real answer, turning away to head out the room to grab another drink. Ray let out a defeated sigh, grabbing his team's and Team Flash's attention, "You saw right through me. I'm not doing great at all."

Ray saw everyone's look of worry towards him, making him feel a little uncomfortable. Ray rubbed his arm, trying to relax his nerves but his eyes would go straight back to the doorway when he would hear your voice. "Will you be ok if Y/N doesn't join us again?" Jackson asked.

Without looking at his team, without giving it a second thought, "She's coming," Ray answered, his voice was louder and stronger than his statements before. Ray turned to see everyone surprised at Ray's confident answer. Ray lifted his eyebrows, shocked that no one thought the same, "If she's anything like the Y/N I know when she sets his mind on something; she's locking it in."

"He's not wrong," Wally finally chimed into the discussion. Ray's ears perked the moment someone finally sided with him, "In the original timeline, I was a speedster, but when Barry created Flashpoint, I lost my powers."

"But you are a speedster," Mick pointed out the obvious.

"That was my point," Wally answered, a bit annoyed at Mick's outburst. Wally walked towards Ray, his hand out as he was eager to lift the Atom's spirit, "I got my powers back, so maybe it means that you can get the original Y/N, your Y/N, back." Wally's testimony changed Ray's entire mood, hell, his whole feeling towards Flashpoint. That there was that chance of hope, not even a slim one, to get you back. A weight lifted off of his chest, making him feel lighter than air, having that sense of home returning to him.

"You're creeping us out here, buddy," Nate mumbled, snapping Ray out of his dream-like state.

Sara took a few steps forward, placing her hand on Ray's shoulder, "I know you want the original Y/N to return, we all do," Sara said, "but we can't force it."

"What do you mean?" Ray questioned. He looked across the room to get answers from someone he respected. Dr. Stein fixed his glasses before giving his input on the matter.

"I think what Ms. Lance is saying is that we must treat Y/N as if she had amnesia. We cannot tell her things that had happened in our timeline because we do not know what the outcome will be." Martin explained trying to put the situation in a better light.

Ray's heart fell to the floor. He didn't know how long he would be able to hold himself off. Having you travel with the Legends would just bring back his memories of you; memories that only he would remember. His attention was drawn to the door to see you enter with a bag hanging off your shoulder. You were muttering under your breath still cursing at Harry, who stayed in the other room. Ray's eyes lit up the moment he saw you, a smile tugging at the corner of his lip. Your gaze met Ray's, seeing his smile towards you and you couldn't help but share the same expression. You quickly shook your head, realizing that others were around the two of you, snapping you out of your daze.

"Hey, you guys," You shuttered, your eyes flickering to each person that stood in front of you. The look of concern that they had shared made you realized that your argument with Wells was anything but private. You spun on your heel, facing the captain of the Wave Rider, puffing out your chest, "I wanted to know if it would be alright if I join the Legends for a mission or what not."

Everyone's eyes flickered towards Palmer, whose smile grew even wider only because he was right. When it came to you: he would always be right. Sara brought back her attention to you; a smirk plastered across her face, "How can I say no when it's you, Y/L/N?"

Ray was the one that volunteered to show you around the Wave Rider. Sara saw it as harmless, knowing that Gideon was there to watch over everything that would happen. You entered the last room, a bedroom, which you concluded was his.

"This is our―my room," Ray caught his slip up, looking over to seeing you staring at him due to his mistake. A tint of pink appeared on his cheeks. He felt his palms getting sweaty, rubbing them on his pants to have them dry but he continued to be embarrassed as you looked at him as if he was brand new. He realized that there was only one bed in the room which caused him to act even more nervous. "Uh, the bed..." He pointed out, driving your gaze to the only bed in the room: a queen size one.

"Oh," You softly let out, the same color he wore came to your cheeks, "I can sleep somewhere else. I think I saw a couch in the dining area." Ray waved his hand in front of you, making you stop your proposal: rejecting the very idea.

"I would never let you sleep on a couch, Y/N," Ray explained. His confession caused your cheeks to burn even more, intensifying the color to a darker shade of red. You tried to cover your face to hide your reaction; he noticed your reactions causing him to smile at you, once again. "I'll just go bunk with Mick. You can stay here." Before you could object, Ray lifted his finger to silence you, "I insist." Ray grabbed a few of his belongs before leaving you alone in the room.

You walked around having your curiosity come over you. You knew that it was wrong to peering into someone else's belongings, but you wanted to know more about Ray Palmer. There were photos scattered around the room: on the bookshelf, the nightstand, and the dresser. You picked one of the pictures up, scanning it to see it was of you and Ray dressed in Western clothes. You were attached to his arm, leaning your head against him with a big smile on your face.

You had picked up another, now dressed in what had to be 50's outfits; Ray dressed as a prep and you in a poodle skirt. The image looked like it was for the cover of the Saturday Evening Post. The two of you sat at a diner counter, sharing a milkshake while nothing but pure bliss beamed from both your faces. You kept going through each photo seeing the same thing over and over: different clothes but still the same two people in love. Your heart grew heavy the more that you continued at each photograph, continually thinking about Ray and what he had to be feeling.

Your relationship with him had to be perfect, ideal one would say. Having him lose it for no reason at all had to be tough. Your snooping didn't stop at the photos; you just had to know more about him. You needed to figure out why you would have fallen in love with someone like him, what did Ray Palmer do that captured your heart?

You lifted some of the papers that were piling up on an object. When you moved them to the side, it revealed a small black, velvet box. Your eyes widened at sight. Your hand was slowly hovering over the box to open it, seeing a beautiful engagement ring sitting inside.

Ray Palmer lost everything he had with you.

The sounds of footsteps in the distanced had startled you, causing you to frantically shut the box to cover it back up in the papers that hid it once before. You tried to make sure that the room looked the same way as it was when you had first entered it; just in case it was the heartbroken made that was coming to see you. You turned to the doorway to just see Sara looking at you, amused by your expression of pure fear.

"You can relax, I'm not lover boy," She chuckled, walking into the room. Sara looked over seeing the photos across the room, having her sigh, "Hopefully those didn't scare you."

You lightly shook your head, joining Sara by the bedside, "Strangely enough, they didn't." Sara perked up, hearing your words. She crossed her arms, tilting her head to have her undivided attention on you, "You think it would, but it gives me this warm feeling in the pit of my stomach." That feeling quickly disappeared when you immediately thought of the ring causing a wave of guilt to wash over you.

Sara took your silence as a sign of you being conflicted with the situation you had. It was your decision at the end of the day; wheater staying with Team Flash or for you to come home to the Legends, even if many were against the second choice. "Come on; we need to go talk with the team on deciding where to go," Sara announced, getting off the bed.

"Go?" You questioned, quickly following her behind, "You don't have a mission?"

"For once, no," Sara laughed. She motioned you out the door, guiding you down the hall, back to the control room. Before entering, Sara stopped at the entrance, giving you a little pep talk, "Don't be nervous about being with us. We all like you, minus you calling us 'goons.'"

"Yeah, sorry about that," You muttered, rubbing the back of your neck. You pulled on Sara's arm, refraining her from entering to have her opinion on something important, "Sara," You hesitated, knowing that she was going to one-sided on the question, but you still had to ask, "Was I happier with Ray than I am with Harry?"

Sara pressed her lips together, making a humming noise to avoid saying the wrong thing. When she looked into your eyes, she saw a helpless person just wanting to know some ounce of the truth. "Look," She sighed, "I don't know your entire relationship with Wells so I can't nor should I give you an answer." Before she opened the door, she shook her finger at you, remembering something, "But you and Ray? You two never fought if that helps you."

You both finally entered the control room, seeing the rest of the team gathered. Your eyes went straight to Ray's acting like they were on autopilot. Ray's smile that seemed never to leave his face, one that would appear every time he looked at you had grown. He tried to take a few steps to stand by you but was held back by Nate.

"You can't force it," Nate hushed at Palmer, "If it's meant to be, it will happen, but you shouldn't have high hopes." With Nate's exchange of words caused Ray to take a deep breath, trying to mask over the sadness that had rushed through him. He didn't want to think about a future that you weren't in. He wanted everything to go back to the way it was, you taking care of the Wave Rider and he was fine with starting all over with you: falling back in love.

"We have a day off," Sara announced to her team, a sign of concern swept each of the Legend's faces.

"Wait, you're serious?" Jackson chuckled, his mood quickly shifting, "What does that mean for us?"

"It means, we can relax for once and take a trip to anywhere and anytime," Sara continued, she had that sly smile appear, "We can't change history or leak anything that happens in the future, but it doesn't mean we can't have fun with it."

"Bermuda," Mick suggested, bringing the bottle of beer to his lips and continuing with his suggestion, "2018."

"Why is that your choice every single time?" Amaya asked.

"Beach. Booze. Women." Mick had listed. He glanced over at Ray, taking another sip of his drink, "Unless you have a better place in mind." Mick was signaling for Ray to speak but it caused an uproar of the Legends trying to figure out where to go. You stood there confused, looking at each member to try and figure out which place sounded the most appealing. None so far.

"New Orleans. 1826." Until that location came into play. Your ears perked, eyebrows raised and your mouth opened slightly. You figured out that it was Ray's voice that chose that specific location, instantly when he said the place of interest. Ray tried to keep his eye contact on Sara but couldn't help but notice at the corner of his eyes how excited you had become.

"New Orleans?" Sara repeated, confused on the odd location coming from Palmer.

"Party central, I dig it." Mick seconded it, lifting his bottle to show.

"Dude, why Ne―" Nate couldn't finish his sentence due to your excitement couldn't be contained any longer.

"Yes!" You yelled causing the entire team to jump from your sudden outburst: all but Ray. A smile grew, wider and wider by the second, rushing over to Ray to grab ahold of his arm. Ray looked down at you, seeing pure happiness pouring out of your, making his warmth return to him, "That's what I would say!" You told him.

You could hear a few disgruntle noises coming from the team, but you turned to them to defend the choice Ray had suggested. "Come on! 1826 was the rise of the Voodoo Queen, herself, Marie Laveau! Plus you have such a rich culture coming out of New Orleans: the birth of jazz, the French cuisine, all the dancing and just voodoo in general!" You kept rambling about New Orleans, trying to plead the case on going there.

"Is it bad if I want something bad to happen in New Orleans during the 1820's so that we have to go there?" You asked Ray, finishing getting ready for bed to walk over to join him in bed. Ray placed down his gadget that he was toying with, giving you his full attention. He raised his eyebrow, a smile coming across his face, waiting for you to continue. You got yourself comfortable with him, leaning up against Ray's side, hooking your leg over his, "The rise of voodoo, come on! Now when you go there, it's all fake but to see it on the rise; when the queen herself is starting her career! Plus you have the music, food, and culture." You sighed, nuzzling your head in his arm, having a small smile appear, "It just sounds so exciting."

You felt Ray chuckle. He found it adorable how passionate you got for specific time eras. He placed his toy on the nightstand, to be able to put his hand on your cheek. You stared up at him, enjoying his touch on you, "Who knows, maybe when we have a day off, we can convince Sara to take the team there." Ray assured you.

"Yeah, like we're ever going to get one of those." You laughed, but Ray silenced you by capturing your lips with his.

Ray's smile grew just thinking about that memory. The same amount of passion you had then was still with you now. Ray decided then that he wouldn't let his team choose what was right for him. That small action showed that the original you were still in there. Exactly how Wally explained. You needed a reminder of who you were. A trip on the Wave Rider may have triggered a small part of it, but he couldn't help but imagine what a date with him would do for you.

"Alright, New Orleans it is!" Sara declared, heading over to her seat. You clapped your hands, rejoicing that she agreed. You turned to Ray, shaking his arm, still overwhelmed you were going to see a place you thought you would never go to in your life. The simple touch that you gave him had that spark; the same spark that he always got when you would either brush up against him, touch his hand or laugh against his arm when you were together. Your fingers lingered, playing with the end of Ray's sleeve, taking a moment to yourself. You caught yourself with the interaction, suddenly pulling your hand away from him.

"S―sorry," You stuttered, looking away from the tall, handsome man. You felt your cheeks burn and your heart quickening. You fiddled with your fingers, trying to collect the right words to say to him. Ray found it cute that you were getting all flustered over him. It was shown due to his pink cheeks and smile that he was giving you. "Great choice," You managed to say, glancing up at him with a small smile.

"Are we going or what?" Mick yelled, already in his seat. You turned on your heel to join him. Ray was going to join you, but Dr. Stein and Nate stopped him: troubled by the Atom's action.

"What the hell was that?" Nate harshly asked his friend, grabbing hold of Ray's arm to prevent him from walking away.

"What?" Ray asked, trying to play the fool.

"New Orleans?" Nate couldn't help but chuckle a little, soon dropping the act shortly, "You never been interested in New Orleans. That was for Y/N, wasn't it?"

"Dr. Palmer, I thought we were clear that we cannot force any memories with Ms. Y/L/N," Martin reminded the lovesick fool.

"I just suggested a place," Ray defended, his eyes shifting over to see you talking to Mick, mumbling under his breath, "Maybe she mentioned it once." Nate let out a heavy groan, shaking his head in disapproval. Ray looked back at his teammates, pushing his eyebrows down, "Nothing happened! She's fine plus she got just as excited as she did when she mentioned it to me the first time!"

"That may be so, Dr. Palmer, but that doesn't mean it will always be that way with every little thing Ms. Y/L/N does," Dr. Stein explained, "We just don't want you to get your hopes high."

"And she already is with someone, remember, Wells," Nate warned Ray, letting his grip on the Atom go. Ray's sadness returned. You finally made eye contact with Ray, seeing that depression he wore. It hurt you seeing him in that state, and you knew it was due to his conversation he was having with Stein and Heywood.

"Ray!" You called out to him, grabbing his attention. You stretched out your hand, smiling towards him, "We can't go if you're still standing!" Ray was pulled back by Nate, having him whispered one last thing to Ray. Ray kept his gaze on you, no sign of happiness coming from him at all. You felt your heart grow heavy, matching his exact mood as if your hearts were one. You wiggled your fingers, raising your eyebrows, "C'mon!" You mumbled, a pout to match your sad tone.

Ray took in a deep breath, pushing his nagging teammates aside to join the seat next to yours. You tilted your head, still worried about his being, "Everything ok?" you asked. Ray nodded, lowering his handles before he returned his awareness to you.

"Yeah," He weakly got out. Your whole view on Ray changed after your talk at Jitters. It felt like his team didn't understand the pain and confusion that he was dealing with: he honestly felt alone. You reached over, grabbing his hand in yours to taking in everything he had. You played with his fingers for a bit before lacing yours with his. Even though his hands were twice the size of yours, they felt perfect when molded into one. You could feel the warmth that he was giving off that made you feel calm and flustered at the same time.

Ray took the time to study you while you were busy playing with his hand. He gave the holding a squeeze, his heart pounding against his chest; feeling sick to his stomach. Ray tried his best not to be bothered by the exchange of words that Nate and Martin decided to share. He didn't want to think about you not returning to him. That after this trip, you were undoubtedly going back to Team Flash and live your life with Wells: not giving the Legends or him a second thought. That was what broke Ray's heart the most.

"Ray," You softly called out, shaking your joined hands, breaking Ray out of his dark thoughts. His eyes went straight to yours, he could barely keep his eyes locked onto yours, "Is it scary?" You asked. Ray was confused on what you were referring. Scared about the future or, "Jumping through time." You added, having Ray sigh a bit. He gave you a weak smile, squeezing your hand once more.

"Not at all. Don't worry; I'll be here," Ray promised you.

You felt a knot form in your stomach, your breath hitching in the back of your throat and your eyes widened.

"Are you sure this thing is stable?" You asked Rip, the Wave rider shaking just by going off the ground, "Seems like you didn't do a good job maintaining it."

"I know my ship better than anyone, Ms. Y/L/N, thank you very much." Rip muttered. The ship shook violently, causing you to grip the handles harder. You saw a hand appear at the corner of your eye. You turned your head to see that the hand belonged to none other than Ray Palmer. He had a smile on his face, still having his hand out towards you.

"Wanna hold hands?" He offered. You couldn't help but laugh at his simple suggestion. The next tremble the ship had, you clutched Ray's hand, and the instant touch had relaxed you. You glanced over at Palmer, his smile not leaving him, "Don't worry; I'll be here."

"Y/N?" You heard your name softly called out. Your breath got a little shaky not even realizing it. You looked around the room to see every pair of eyes on you. You felt your hand shake a little, causing you to glimpse over at Ray; who looked the most worried. "Are you ok?" He asked. You heard his voice waver a little, showing his sign of worry.

You lightly nodded, clutching his hand, "Yeah, just a little scared of flying," You lied, hoping that the Legends would buy it. The memory that you just experienced was so vivid. It was something that you couldn't have dreamt up. You readjusted your fingers, trying to bring Ray's hand closer: if that was possible. The knot in your stomach didn't disappear but grew in size each time you kept replaying the scene in your head. Each time it played, the unknown feeling that you had for Palmer also grew.

You quickly glanced over at Ray, who was whispering to Nate. The feelings came back the moment you stared at his face: your cheeks flushing, butterflies forming in the pit of your stomach and you could feel your palms getting sweaty. You tried to pull your hand away, not wanting Ray to notice how nervous you were becoming, but he didn't budge. He had your hand locked on to his, not wanting to be separated again.

The feeling that was building inside you, the warmth that was taking over your body that was increasing for Ray. Was this the love you had for him that Flashpoint had taken away from you?

Tagged: @mad-doctor-mew @lilmissperfectlyimperfect @inspiredbynewt @writing-multifandom @thecraziestcrayon @x-goddess-of-nature-x 

[disunothegreat]

A not-really-a-fic part 2

So this is kind of a what happens to McCree after Part 1 and then some-ish

Jesse…

Jesse cried a lot that day and night and is still there hours after Hanzo’s body has been taken away.

Jesse gets told to see a therapist but he ignores it saying that he’s fine. That he just needs some time.

Eventually he goes back to overwatch and tell Winston to put them on the roster.

The gorilla of course denied it. Thinking it was too soon for him to just be flown into missions like that. But the cowboy insisted until Winston caved.

Obviously Winston could see that he wasn’t in his right mind so he say that he’ll put him on the roster. He also warns McCree that the minute he thinks that he could be a liability to the mission that he’s to be taken off immediately. McCree agrees to his condition and goes to the training area.

It was long before he was found drowning himself in alcohol. So maybe sending him on a mission wouldn’t be so bad if it stopped him from drinking so much.

But then… then he notices that Jesse’s not sleeping. Like at all.

Hell he hasn’t even seen them eat like at all since he got back.

Winston even saw the way his teammates tried for him to eat or to take his mind off the liquor but nothing worked. They all could see how he was slowly losing muscle definition. How their eyes were sinking, their cheeks hollowing, their bones becoming visible a mile away. Angela has already found them passed out and had to take them to the medbay and put an IV in them.

It got to a point where the Gorilla had to give him an ultimatum.  Either he get better or he’s off the missions completely…

Months pass, Jesse being good enough to eat at least once a day if a bit forcibly. But it was enough for Winston to keep him on the roster.

Besides he was starting to have better days. Genji and he start hanging out more.

It was when he had bad days when they’d worry. On those days he would isolate himself in his room, not coming out once. The only reassurance they had is that it never lasted more than three days.

So when the day came that Jesse hadn’t been seen for more than his normal. Genji began to worry, the ninja started looking for him everywhere just to make sure but found nothing. So he went to the cowboy’s room and knocked.

No answer.

Seconds passed and seeing that Jesse wasn’t going to respond Genji asks Athena if said person was in there at all? She answers an affirmative, she also urged him to get to him quickly as she unlocked the door for the cyborg.

He looks everywhere but it wasn’t until he goes to Jesse’s bedroom bathroom that Genji’s horrified with what he finds. Laying on the ground possibly passed out, Jesse had a whiskey bottle loosely cradled in his mechanical hand while the other… the other was cut open at the wrist. He could see that it was deep enough to be losing blood at a fast. He couldn’t see what he used to cut himself with but but it as a second priority. Genji didn’t think twice and bent down to grab the other man and haul him to his feet so he could get himself as fast as he could. Once outside the the cowboy’s room Genji began to yell for help.

McCree may have lost a lot of weight but he was still bigger than the cyber ninja which made it harder for him to maneuver. Finally he spotted one of his colleges and yelled for their aid. Luckily for Genji it was Reinhardt. The older man jumps onto action carrying Jesse fireman style towards Dr. Zeigler’s office.

Jesse wakes in increments, feeling like the worst hangover he’s felt in ever. ‘Still here huh…’ he think to himself. He goes to rub his head but finds the he can’t. He opened his eyes carefully. Flinching still by the bright lights of the room he was in. He take a deep breath and takes notice of all of his body’s aches and pains.

His wrist was killing him. He tried once more to move either of his arm but it proved useless. Looking down McCree could see that he was restrained to the bed he was laying on.

Panic started to rise on his chest so he quickly looked around to take notice on where he was. It, of course, was the Watchpoint medbay. So that relaxed him somewhat but was still confused on why he was handcuffed to the bed.

It wasn’t long before he got his answer since Dr. Zeigler herself walk in to his room looking at his chart.

“A-Ang?” he called, his voice raspy and dry.

Dr. Ziegler looks up from the chart and hurried towards his bedside. She puts the chart down on the nightstand and puts a cup of water to his dry lips.

Once he was done he tried to speak again but the doctor beat him to it.

“Jesse— are you out of your minzid mind!?” She would have yelled but her years of experience kept her from it.

“Look, Ang—”

“Vhat? Do you not care for us anymore!? Don’t care how we will feel. Do you think you’d be easily forgotten as if you’re a pile of trash!? Is that it!?” It was obvious that she was furious with him. Even as she hides it well Jesse still felt cut with every word she said to him.

“Angela I—” Jesse tried again but she cut him off once more.

“I may not have had a more-than-coworkers relationship with Mr. Shimada but that did not mean that I didn’t mourn for him! We all did. And I get that it was hard for you… believe me I do. It may not have been by the same circumstances but I still lost a dear friend. But mein Gott, killing yourself is not a solution Jesse.”

The silence that was brought after she finished was the loudest he’s ever heard before.

After a few seconds he caves and says “I know Ang. I know, it just… seem like the best thing at the time.” Jesse closes his eyes and sighs. He rests his head deeper on the pillow before adding “logically I know that offing myself ain’t gonna do shit to bring him back. I know that, that ain’t how things work. But then it was all my brain was telling me to do. That it was the best thing to do. I felt numb in that moment, like nothing else mattered…” he pauses. Trying to compose himself. He opens his eyes and stares at her. He notices Genji standing outside of the bedroom. He huffs a small chuckle and says “ain't cho mama ever teach you not to eavesdrop on people? It ain’t nice. Now come in here so yah can hear the rest.”

Genji did, albeit looking somewhat sorry for eavesdropping but Jesse knew he doesn’t regret doing it. Angela stood silent as Genji stood beside her waiting for Jesse to continue.

A few seconds later he did.

“I’m sorry that I put you both in this kind of situation. Believe me it wasn’t my intention to do so. I would take it back if I could.” he apologizes to both.

It took a few seconds but both doctor and cyborg to react but in the end they both did accept his apology.

“That being said, you’ll still be on suicide watch, you will have someone with you at all times. The only exception being the bathroom but even then we’ll be having Athena check your vitals and lastly I’ve already informed Winston about it, so do not fight me on it.” Angela informs him.

Obviously Jesse wasn’t exactly thrilled with these accommodations but he understood the why they needed to do so.

“Alright. One question though… did--did you tell the others too?” Jesse asks, not certeing he was ready to hear the answer.

“Nein, I did not. The only ones that know of what happened are Winston, Genji, Reinhardt and Myself. It is not my place to tell the others. I’ll leave that to you.” she says with a sad smile.

Jesse chuckles and says that he’s fine with that.

Later that day the old crusader dropped by to see of Jesse’s well being. They talked for a while, sometimes reliving old times. When it was time for Reinhardt to go he go up and went to the door but before he could open it Jesse called to him and thanked him.

“Wozu?” the old soldier asked, confusion clear in his voice. Jesse wasn’t great with German but he’d been around the older man enough to recognized some of the phrases he said from time to time.

“Well you know… for carrying me here. Genji told me that you were the one to do so.” he paused for a bit before continuing “I also want to say i’m sorry. I’m sorry that you had to go through that. That I put you in that kind of situation.”

Reinhardt sighed and went back and sat on the bedside chair once more and told Jesse about his experiences with this kind of situation from when he was younger and even today he can sometimes see it. Told not to worry too much but to please never do that again. That he liked the cowboy and it’d be a shame for him to be gone. With that he got up to leave again “I’m one of the oldest ones here. I know this is not a realistic view but the old are not meant to outlive the young don’t you think?” Reinhardt winks and slips out the room leaving Jesse to his thoughts.

[undercoverwatermoon]

Unexpected Dreams- CH. 2 (Jalton)

WARNING: The rating has been updated to a solid "Explicit" you guys. You've been warned :)

A million apologies for taking so long to update this story. To make it up to all of you, I am posting an extra long chapter, with an added bonus towards the end! (Hint: German Professor Adam!)

There is a lot more of Adam POV in this chapter, and we delve a bit deeper into Jaz's dreams.

SO MANY THANK YOUs to the rest of #TheFab5 ( @icarryyourheart16 , @chibisere23  @stupid-jeans and  @kyrieanne) for putting up with ALL my rambling and crazy thoughts about this story. They helped so much that I don't think this chapter would be posted, ever, without them :) And as always, thanks to the awesome Nicole for the detailed and super fast beta!

Enjoy!!

AO3 Link Here

Exhausted, they all tumble out of the humvee and walk towards the picnic area by the Quonset hut. A long, competitive afternoon is behind them, and Team Patton is ready to celebrate their drill day win.

Despite the underlying awkwardness from that morning - that elephant in the room both of them have avoided since Tehran - Adam and Jaz are still a force to be reckoned with as a team on the training field, prompting some griping from the others about unfairness and team assignments being rigged.

Jaz walks ahead of them, muttering something cooking related to Amir. When she huffs out a laugh at Amir’s response, Adam lowers his head with a fond smile. Maybe he’s been reading too much into her actions, or lack thereof. Maybe he’s being paranoid and she’s just going through the normal phases of recovery after Tehran. Maybe none of it has to do with him. Feeling the frown on his face, he schools his expression as he catches up with the team.  

“Patton, you’re such a cheater.” McG says, flinging a tactical glove at the dog’s head. Immediately after it lands, Patton snatches it up and runs.

“NO! Patton! Son of a--”

“Let it go, McG. It’s history,” Adam says, beaming proudly as he watches the mutt disappear into the hangar. “Besides, it’s not his fault you couldn’t hold your position quietly.”

McG turns to Adam. “He tickled me with his stupid nose!”

Apparently no one is done enjoying this because they erupt into laughter again, Amir and Jaz holding their stomachs and leaning shoulder to shoulder as they struggle to breathe.

Minutes later, once the jokes have died down, they stand around the picnic table, discussing possible options for the traditional team night out. Team Patton - Adam and Jaz today - is ready to enjoy the spoils of war.

Reaching into her camo backpack, Jaz pulls out her bright turquoise Hydro Flask water bottle - it’s new, and it makes her smile - and notices four pairs of eyes follow her movements as she takes a swig.

“What?” Jaz says warily, wiping at her mouth and eyeing her teammates standing across from the table she’s perched on. Adam is to her left, and as he crosses his arms over his chest, Jaz pivots in the opposite direction. It’s something she’s been doing - standing or sitting with her back to him when they’re not on mission- and Adam frowns, staring at her profile.

“That’s…” McG waves at her water bottle, “...colorful, Jazzy.” He tries to keep his voice neutral but fails miserably. Jaz rolls her eyes, her standard response to most things McG says when they’re not taking fire, but internally she flinches a little.

McG can be ridiculous, but they all seemed to notice the same thing- that the cheerful color is  just not her. She remembers handing the $40 to the cashier with such excitement, but now she wavers as her hands wrap protectively around the bright bottle. Is this the new her? Is she now the soldier that wears hot pink underwear to feel feminine and buys eye-catching accessories to...what? Stand out? Hide? Pretend she’s fine? Whatever the answer is, she still has one more question: Why?

Jaz’s body language betrays her thoughts so subtly that only Adam picks up on the slight hesitation - because he notices everything about her these days- before she fires her witty comeback at McG.

“So are your canary yellow Spongebob boxers. What’s your point?” McG points at her, an affronted look on his face.

“Those were a gift, first of all--”

“From your mom,” Amir interrupts with an explanatory nod to the group, and they all chuckle because it’s probably not wrong. McG, however, is undeterred, so he speaks louder over the laughter as he punches Amir in the arm.

“And second...turquoise? Can’t you get your sniper card revoked for that? I thought only black, camo, and army green were approved colors.”

Jaz regards McG, unfazed for a second, then taps her chin and nods.

“Yep. I’ll just order you one then. You’re obviously jealous. Maybe in neon yellow, to match your underwear.”

McG’s grin is wide and triumphant.  

“Why are you checking out my underwear, Jazzy? You interested?” His eyebrows raise suggestively, and Jaz’s eyes sparkle with the challenge. Just as she readies her response, a shadow expands in the corner of her eye and a familiar voice interrupts.

“So, Jaz. Are you? Interested?” Dr. Xander Martin points at McG as he asks, and awaits Jaz’s response with a teasing smile.

“In his dreams,” Jaz scoffs, and McG holds a hand to his heart. Laughing now, she turns fully toward Xander and greets him warmly. He says something about a Call of Duty rematch and Jaz asks if he’s prepared to lose again.

Adam watches the interaction with interest from his place now behind Jaz, and he doesn’t know why, but something about it unsettles him. Jaz and McG have always bantered like siblings, and Amir is fitting in better and better each day that passes by.  

Preach however, seems a little off- Adam’s caught him giving Jaz that “knowing” look more than once today. Maybe Preach’s insight is exactly what he needs. Making a mental note, Adam shifts his attention back to the group as they start heading inside.

Xander hangs back, arms crossed, probing green eyes focused on Adam as he comes closer.

“Top.”

“You come around looking for patients?” Adam jokes, and Xander chuckles with a nod as he gives the outstretched hand a firm shake.

“Like you? No thanks.”

“You know, screwed up people like me are the reason you have a job. I’d be more careful with the insults,” Adam replies.

“Ah, yes. Supply and demand. I owe you my livelihood.”

“Damn right.” They both smile at that, but Adam knows they’re beating around the bush. Xander sees all, and in a much more infuriating manner than Preach, because observing and analyzing is his job. Adam braces for the question, but is surprised that he finds himself anticipating, rather than dreading it.  

“In that case, care to tell me what’s on your mind? We haven’t talked since...” Trailing off, he waves in the general direction of the team walking away, but they both know what he means. Losing Hossein, surviving Iran, and...Jaz.

Adam stuffs his hands in his pockets and averts his eyes. This dynamic between them is always fascinating to him. They can joke one second and discuss the meaning of life the next, and it never feels forced or out of place, even in an open, dusty road in the middle of an Army base.

Over the years, he’s learned two things about Xander Martin: that avoiding him is a waste of time, and that everything he does is always with his best interests at heart, Army requirement or not. When he’d said to Jaz that Xander is good people, he’d meant it. So, he doesn’t deflect or lie.

“Honestly? I’m...I don’t know...I think I need a little time.”

Xander regards him for a second. It is not an overstatement that Adam Dalton has had a rough go in life. Being a special operations psychologist -so focused around post-mission diagnosis, solutions, and results- it’s sometimes easy to forget the incredible hurdles some people overcome just to get here. Nevermind the strength required to recover from the invisible wounds that war can inflict.

The Sgt. Dalton he’d met 15 years ago at SFAS -the one who’d already survived so much grief in his young life- isn’t even in the same galaxy as the Army Captain staring at him now with honest, thoughtful eyes. A true leader, in every sense of the word. So because of this, he lets it go.

“Understood.” Xander finally says, and Adam gives him a grateful smile. “You know where to find me.”

As his long-time friend walks away, Adam looks up at the sky as he exhales a long, slow breath.

It’s time for team night out, and he is ready to unwind. Or at least try.

                         __________________________________

“You didn’t.” Amir’s horrified expression causes more howling laughter around the high-top table where they’re standing in the crowded bar. Jaz is telling the story of that now-legendary prank she’d pulled on McG after she’d caught him stealing her iced tea, and the medic can’t help but laugh along with them.

“Alright, alright. That was brilliantly evil, Jazzy. I taught you well,” McG says, patting Jaz on the head. Swatting at his hand, she laughs and starts toward the bar in search of another beer.

Adam watches her. Preach watches him.

Amir and McG spot a pool table opening up, and are off to claim it as Adam hangs back, eyes still on Jaz. The bartender says something, and Jaz leans forward on her elbows, most likely to repeat the name of the beer she wants, this weird concoction they import, Adam thinks, rolling the standard IPA bottle between his palms. Predictable Jaz would say, and that makes him smile.

Long moments pass, and then the loud opening chords of the next jukebox song jerk him out of his trance. He looks around quickly, trying to recover from the momentary lapse, and is relieved when he finds Preach apparently immersed in something serious-looking on his phone. Lucky Adam thinks. If Preach had seen him spaced out staring at Jaz, he’d never live it down.

“Hey, Top,” Preach says, patting the stool beside him as Adam approaches him. Noticing the barely touched, almost warm beer in Top’s hand, Preach smiles to himself. It’s about time for some friendly advice, maybe even a little tough love.  

Adam considers jumping straight into the topic that’s been dominating his thoughts the past few days. He is no stranger to PTSD, and while he’s not sure Jaz’s odd behavior stems from that, the possibility alone has him on alert.

A dozen questions race in his mind. Has Preach noticed the weirdness with Jaz? What does he think it’s about? Does he think she’s having second thoughts...about the team? About her life here? About him? Instead, he settles for the safest topic he can find.

“Hey, um, the change you made to the comms malfunction drill was clever. No question, the new gear could go haywire during an op like that.”

“Yeah, well. Not like the disruption worked on you and Jaz. From now on, we’re banning telepathy during team competitions.”

Adam’s wistful smile comes and goes in an instant, as he darts a quick glance at his sniper just feet away, waiting on her drink. He wonders if the thoughtful look on her face means she’s considering hopping up to sit on the wood bar top. Distracted, he absentmindedly starts responding.

“We can’t read each other’s--” stopping abruptly, he clears his throat, then mutters, “Well, I can’t…”

When he trails off, Preach notices the clenched jaw, the strain in his forearm muscles. Adam relaxes almost instantly, tapping his fingers against the colored glass, but it’s too late.

“Adam.” The use of his given name always has the desired effect. Top sighs, wondering why he even tries. Preach can read him like a book, and isn’t that why he walked over here in the first place?

“I’m worried, Preach.” That catches the older man a little off guard. Adam’s not even trying to be subtle, which speaks volumes about his state of mind. Still, Preach doesn’t press too hard.

“About what? McG’s susceptibility to street dogs during close quarter combat?”

Adam huffs out an obligatory laugh with a sideways look, and Preach nods as he raises his hands in acquiescence. It’s only been two weeks since Tehran, and Jaz’s recovery has been on everyone’s radar. Even without the intel he’s gathered by watching Adam and Jaz interact recently, Preach would’ve guessed what he’s concerned about.

“Alright. So, you’re worried about Jaz. What’s new?” Adam rolls his eyes, and against his better judgment tries to defend himself.

“I’m not always worr--”

“Top, this conversation will be a lot easier if you at least try to be honest--”

Adam flares. “Hey, I’m not-- ”

“--with yourself.” Preach finishes, knowingly. That seems to halt Adam momentarily, so he continues. “I don’t care what you say to me. I already know the truth. Do you?”

Adam seems to deflate visibly at that, running an impatient hand over his beard. Preach waits, and when Adam doesn’t speak, he prods.

“Tell me about the worst case scenario in your head.”

Adam doesn’t expect that. “What?”

“You’re worried. About Jaz. But what specifically about her? You think she’s slipping? Or you think she’ll shoot you in the ass accidentally?” Air quotes accompany the last word and Adam begrudgingly smiles.

“McG’s rubbing off on you,” Adam mumbles, but Preach knows he’s made his point. None of this conversation has to do with Jaz as a soldier, a professional, a member of the team. Jaz is the best sniper in Special Forces, and they are damn lucky to have her back. What happened in Tehran? It can’t touch any of that.

For a few seconds, Adam looks down, turns the green bottle fast in his hands, watches it spin like his mind.

“What truth?” he finally asks. “What truth do you know that I don’t?”

Preach considers that. It’s possible he might’ve overplayed his hand using that particular phrase. But after witnessing a completely spaced out Jaz that morning, oblivious to everything but Top, he feels a responsibility to the team, to them. Wisdom is knowing when to speak and when to let things be. And Preach is wise. It’s time for a nudge.

“You and Jaz...you trust each other when your lives are on the line. That’s the job. But real life? It’s...not that.”  

Preach stands, strolling away casually towards his teammates, leaving Adam to mull over his words.

Real life. What does that even mean for him now? This is his real life. Is it not?

From experience, he knows there’s an ocean of difference between the connections that form after trauma, and the organic nature of normal friendships. So, him and Jaz. Are they bound to each other due to circumstance? If they weren’t soldiers, teammates, commanding officer and subordinate, would they meet at a bar or a restaurant and bond over everyday things?

Whatever the answer, Adam only knows one truth. Real or not, Jaz has become an essential piece of this pie chart he thinks of as his life. Obviously, a much larger piece than he’d realized. And the idea that the fallout from Iran might threaten that? He won’t allow it.

Jaz’s distant laugh interrupts his escalating thoughts. Startled, he lifts his head, eyes searching for her. He finds her leaning casually against the rounded edge of the bar, staring up at some stranger’s face.

The tall, well dressed guy -probably some IT contractor or a businessman- smiles down at her, his body language making his intentions clear as day. When he reaches inside his jacket pocket, Adam jumps to his feet, but freezes when he notices a harmless pen emerge. Not a threat.

Oblivious, Jaz looks down, clearly radiating amusement instead the annoyance Adam finds himself hoping for. The clean-cut man scribbles on the white napkin next to her beer. Adam shifts uncomfortably on his feet, taking a couple steps toward the pool table where Preach and McG are standing, as if he was headed there the whole time.

Surely, Adam thinks, Jaz will offer a polite smile and chuck the napkin when the guy turns around, like he’s seen her do countless times. But she tucks it safely in her jacket pocket instead, zipping it closed with a curious smile on her face, and it’s the second time tonight Adam has to force his body to relax.

Jaz is quiet, but pleasant, the rest of the night. Adam steals quick glances in her general direction, pretending he’s keeping watch over the front door to their left. She seems lost in thought, occasionally chuckling or interjecting one-word answers.

Since he’s known her, Jaz has always been an all or nothing kind of girl. Present or absent, engaged or disengaged. As her CO, his entire management strategy around her is based on this fact. Jaz is black and white. No gray area. No compromise.

But this Jaz, the one weaving in and out of his private thoughts, this is not the Jaz he’s used to. A whole new side of her is starting to show -since Iran- and it makes him wonder if a real friend would behave like him, watching from the sidelines while she morphs into whoever she’s gonna be.

As his internal dialogue takes on a life of its own, Preach regales Amir with more old team stories and McG tells inappropriate jokes. Before they know it, it’s time to head back to base.

Outside, they near their SUV parked on the street, and Jaz moves to take a seat in the back.

“Your long legs fit better in the front,” she tells Preach as she closes the car door.

Because he’s wise, Preach doesn’t miss a beat. McG and Amir follow his lead. “Not gonna complain.”

Adam hides his disappointment well as he climbs into the driver’s seat, but his hands tremble almost imperceptibly around the wheel.  

On the ride home, it takes all his willpower to stop himself from looking back at her through the rearview mirror.

                        ____________________________________

It’s late, and Adam tosses and turns in bed. Sleep has slowly returned to normal for him since Tehran -although the nightmares are not entirely gone, they are manageable now- but tonight, his mind is wide awake. He refuses to think about why, knowing it will take him down a path he just doesn’t feel ready to consider yet.

Jaz, standing at that bar tonight, smiling -genuinely this time- at another man. It’s not like she’s not approached on a regular basis when they go out. Jaz is beautiful, and there’s never a shortage of men circling around. Still, she’s never entertained any of them. Not on deployment. Or at least, not when she’s out with the team. With him.

Enough. God, he needs to clear his head.  Shuffling out into the hallway, thinking a quick walk outside will help, he’s puzzled when he finds her door across from his slightly ajar.

A faint noise from the kitchen draws his full attention, and he quietly moves in that direction, reaching the living area in time to see Jaz walking away, crossing the plastic strip curtain, headed outside. Indecision paralyzes him briefly, but he follows her, feeling silly about spying, but unable - or unwilling- to make his body turn around.

He finds her sitting on the picnic table, legs crossed, her profile visible to him from his hidden spot by the door. Briefly, he worries she’ll notice him -because ninja skills- but after a few moments he thinks he’s safe, and finds himself just watching her. Memories of their talk by the fire wash over him, unabated, as he takes her in. When did this start to happen exactly? This need to be around her, understand her? Have her understand him?

The late evening breeze blows softly, the hair around her face fluttering, and his eyes focus on something square and white in her hand, the soft edges flapping lightly in the wind. From his position, he can’t read her facial expression, her long thick hair covering most of her profile, but her head is tilted down. The way his stomach drops when he realizes what’s in her hand doesn’t entirely surprise him now. A napkin. Most likely the one from the bar, with someone else’s phone number scribbled on it.

Preach’s words from earlier ring in his ears…what exactly is “real”? And if it’s not this... does Jaz want whatever real may be? Does he?

                           _____________________________________

The next morning, Jaz walks back from her morning run, and the 12’ x 12’ plankwood square that serves as their storage space on base catches her eye. The door is ajar, and seconds later she finds herself inside. Shuffling around the grimy, dark room, breathing in and out, gliding her fingers over the dusty edges of the cardboard boxes neatly piled and catalogued.. Not looking for anything in particular, she wonders what she’s even doing here.

A single box she finds halfway open draws her attention- “Undercover Props / Accessories” it reads in scrambled sharpie ink on the outside. Adam’s scribble. A few rows of bulk cleaning supply boxes are lined up next to it, and that old couch Elijah had begged them to replace frames the back wall. When she inches closer, a flash of light reflecting on something like glass catches her eye, and she reaches inside for it instantly.

Staring at the rimless, fake reading glasses- Adam’s- in her hand, her mind flashes back to that busy Tehran airport, the smell of jet fuel, sounds of rolling luggages and high pitched chatter. Closing her eyes she can recall every detail. It makes her stomach flutter, but not from the thoughts she expects- the botched jump from the hotel window, the torture room designed to strip her raw, or the almost impossible rescue by her guys.

Instead, she recalls unexpected images, grainy black and white daydreams. Adam’s strong hand on the small of her back, his warm breath on her cheek, the intoxicating feel of soft lips and his scratchy beard against her skin. None of these are details she consciously noticed at the time -her focus had been on playing the role, making it through customs untouched.

A mild sense of unease creeps in as she becomes aware of her thoughts. Her dreams- and fantasies lately -have been full of... this, she thinks a little bitterly. Loaded with an undecipherable fusion of images and thoughts and feelings that feel disjointed and unnatural to her.

Memories after a traumatic event can be a tricky thing, Xander says. It appears he’s right again.

She remembers sitting in her room that day, staring at the clothes she’d picked for their flight into Tehran, and feeling nervous and a little excited about the undercover assignment as Adam’s wife. The memories are murky- chronological snapshots of that morning’s events flashing in her mind -but what strikes her now is the feeling that comes with them, the emotion that floods her so unexpectedly as she stands there, lost in thought, in the middle of that dusty room with Adam’s glasses in her hand.

She’d felt...safe that day; walking through the shiny white corridors along the crowded airline terminals, Adam by her side, holding her hand. As dangerous as she knew it was, she couldn’t recall a mission where she’d felt more prepared. A 650 yard shot- she could execute that in her sleep. An airtight escape plan- undercover couple assignments were practically their specialty by now. The world a little safer with Jarif dead - finally getting justice for her fellow servicemen fallen at that beach.

The humorless chuckle escapes her as her focus returns to the present, a fingertip tracing the edge of the lenses’ frame. How wrong had she been.

Chatter from some soldiers discussing the lack of adequate soap choices at the PX makes her snicker, and she wonders how long she’s been in the storage room. With a quick shake of her head, she moves toward the open box to put away the glasses, but her hand freezes just above the opening.

No one will know if you take them.

The thought - and the accompanying chill down her spine- startle her. Jaz is not sentimental about these things, so it makes no sense that she can’t make her fingers loosen around the folded thin temples of the glasses. Even more illogical is that leaving them in that box feels like leaving him .

You’re being ridiculous she chastises herself, forcing her fingertips to let go, but the moment the glasses fall between Top’s go-to gray scarf and that curly hair wig she hates, she knows they’re going with her.

Walking out of the storage room, one hand wrapped around the smuggled prize in her pocket, Jaz runs straight into Adam.

“Hey,” Adam says. Calm, collected and steady. Under his piercing stare her cheeks start to burn.

“Hi.” Jaz says, scanning the space around him as if assessing threat levels. Adam wants to touch her shoulder, get her attention, so he shoves his hands in his pockets instead.

“You find any treasure?”

“What?” It’s a little too quick, and Adam’s eyes narrow. Widening his stance, he considers her for a moment before waving a listless hand at the structure behind her.

“In the storage room?” Jaz just stares, so he continues. “You just walked out of--”

“Ah, yes.” She interjects, recovering with a nod. “No, I didn’t.”  

“What were you looking for? Maybe I can help.” Damn him and his perseverance. The hand in her pocket squeezes involuntarily, reminding her to relax.

“Oh no. I found it.” Adam is visibly confused, so she amends, “I mean...I have what I need. Back in my quarters. I don’t even know why I...went in there.” The last few words uttered as she moves to walk away.

“Okay…” But it’s not, he thinks, and his brow furrows further. What does she have back in her quarters? And for what mission? DC hasn’t called in the three days since they’re last mission. On instinct, he takes a quick step to the side and blocks her path.  

Jaz feels her temper begin to wind. All she wants is to be left alone with her illogical thoughts and inconvenient feelings, and yet, here’s Adam, being his steady, thoughtful self and her hand is burning in her pocket, and she just wants to snap.

“Did you need something, Top?” A bit sharper than she intended. Adam straightens.

“No, I just--”

“Because it seems you were waiting for me. Out here.” Adam starts to smile sheepishly, but stops at her look.

“Yeah. Listen, Jaz--”

“I’m fine.” Jaz interrupts, calmer now, realizing that flipping out on him only increases the chances he’ll figure out what she’s carrying in her pocket, and in her mind.

“Last night you were pretty quiet.” When she meets his eyes he feels the need to clarify. “At the bar.”

That catches Jaz off guard. Of course he meant at the bar , where else would she have been quiet last night that he would’ve noticed? Her head tilts, processing the information, and he swallows before averting his eyes so briefly she almost misses it. Whatever that’s about she’ll have to find out another time. Right now, she needs some space.

“I was tired. Listen, Top...” Adam waits.  

Taking a deep breath, Jaz blinks a few times. She doesn’t want to have this conversation- about her fruitless attempts at distracting herself from thoughts of him- but if she doesn’t give him something concrete, they will dance this dance until she loses her mind. So, just like the morning before, she decides a partial truth is better than a lie.

“I just feel...different. That’s all. I’m working through it.”

“Different how?” There’s something like distant panic in his chest at her explanation, and it all starts to jumble in his head -Preach’s words about real life, spying on her under the stars, visions of her calling that other guy- but he catches himself, and offers an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to--”

“It’s fine,” she dismisses with a wave, and vaguely registers that her temper has all but vanished at the depth of his concern. “Just...you’re gonna have to trust me.”

“I do.” The lack of hesitation draws out a small smile as she looks up at him.  

“Thanks.” Adam nods, and steps out of her way, following her with his eyes until she’s out of sight.    

                       _____________________________________

The rest of the day is mostly routine. A solid morning run, sparring with her guys, chores and maintenance checklists for weapons and equipment, a short trip into the city for lunch and supplies. But now, as Jaz moves through her room preparing for bed, she feels anything but normal. Slipping on a worn long sleeve tee and tugging up her flannel pants, the barrage of thoughts and feelings that have swirled within her the past few weeks weigh heavily on her mind.

Tying her hair up in a pineapple bun, she plops down on the edge of her bed and her eyes can’t help glancing at the bedside table compartment where Adam’s glasses are now stashed away. She tells herself that she should be sleeping already, but her hand pulls the drawer open and a second later her finger traces the metallic edge around the lenses. Unbidden, a soft memory from hours before that fateful flight into Iran floats through her mind.

“Hey, Mrs. You ready?” Adam walks in, dressed in his preppy professor outfit, and Jaz grins.

“Well, well, professor. Been a while since you’ve gotten to play dress up.” Jaz eyes him up and down, and he smiles indulgently.  

“Been a while since you’ve gotten to play wife.” She catches the smirk on his face as he turns to drape his jacket over the kitchen table chair.

“Such a privilege.” Jaz deadpans. Adam simply raises an eyebrow at that, and gestures toward her hand.

“The ring to your satisfaction, dear?” Jaz stretches her hand out and eyes her ring finger suspiciously as she shrugs.

“This cracker jack ring?” Adam chuckles. “It’s okay. For a professor’s salary, I suppose.”

When he doesn’t reply, she looks at him, and finds him lost in thought - that soft “Adam smile” she rarely gets to see visible on his face. Preach’s voice as he walks into the kitchen breaks Adam out of his trance and he walks away quickly, without meeting her eyes. Before she can process those last few seconds, Preach distracts her with talk about comms and Iran’s latest airport security protocols, and Jaz never gives Adam’s hasty exit a second thought.

Until now. The easy banter between them that day belied the seriousness and danger of the task they were about to take on. But it hadn’t mattered. Not then. Those moments - memories - feel so precious to her now. A reminder of a time when she could be around Adam, casually, without every nerve ending in her body awakening; without her thoughts drifting to the future possibilities, or lack thereof, between them.

Them. A kind of sadness swells inside her as she considers that. Somewhere deep down she knows the idea of Top as more than her CO has been dangerously hovering near the fringes of her conscious mind longer than she’d care to admit.

These days, though, it seems like the proverbial Pandora’s box has exploded inside her, and all the wishes she’s spent her life holding at arm’s length are now roaming around freely, mockingly staring her in the face.

She wants her simpler life back. The one where she felt balanced, prepared, in control. That black and white life where all but her next breath was expendable. This desire growing inside her- the idea that she could have more than just the Army as the backbone of her life - it translates into one thing and one thing only in her mind: risk.

Shaking her head, she stuffs the glasses in the drawer and flops backwards on the bed. Sergeant Khan, she mentally admonishes herself, get your shit under control. Now.

Satisfied with her stern internal dialogue, Jaz burrows under the covers, but as she reaches to turn off the lamp, she catches a glimpse of her bright turquoise water bottle and smiles. Maybe some changes haven’t been entirely bad.

The darkness and quiet seep in slowly as sleep overtakes her. And in spite of her logical conclusion that a simpler life is what she should want, the last conscious thought that swims in her mind’s eye is of Adam’s smile.

                       _____________________________________

“Jaz, what the…” The words die in his throat as his capable, lethal sniper struts into the room, wearing the shortest skirt he’s sure she’s ever owned, and a white button down shirt that barely covers her midriff.

“Yes, professor.” Adam’s hands ball tightly at his sides at the sultry tone in her voice, and he watches Jaz advance toward him. Slowly. Eyes on him.

“You don’t have to call me--”

“I want to.” Well damn. Adam swallows and manages to point at the classroom chair a few feet in front of him, but his eyes are locked on the exposed skin of her legs.  

“There are… um, papers, uh, that list of...things for, um, today…” German language prep, is what he means to say -Jaz has been working on German quals and he’s been helping her in their free time- but his brain is scrambling to stay somewhat focused and the pitiful attempt is not successful at all.

Alarm bells start ringing in his head as she bypasses the chair and comes around to sit on the corner of the desk.

“I thought maybe we could...improvise.” It has the desired effect and Jaz smirks as she watches him take in a shaky deep breath. Momentarily, a fleeting thought reminds her of the last time they’d improvised. In Tehran. But right now, Adam is standing there in that checkered button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up with his veined, muscled forearms flexing as he tries to reign himself in, and Jaz just can’t find it in herself to give a fuck about Iran.

Still staring at his hands, Adam replies, “Uh, yeah. Well, no--” he shakes his head “--we should follow the---”

“Adam.” At the sound of his name, he turns his head to look her in the eye, gripping the edge of the desk almost painfully now. Jaz leans her upper body closer, staring up at him through thick, long lashes. She’s got him right where she wants him, and the anticipation bursts in her chest as her eyes explore his familiar face.

When she scoots over to the right, closer and closer to where he’s standing, Adam instinctively lets go of the desk and plops down on the chair behind him.

“Jaz, we should probably---”

“The door is locked. The guys are out at that beach soccer tournament.” Methodically, she’s been rearranging her position so that she’s sitting on the edge of the desk now, right in front of him. Long, lean legs crossed at the ankles, swinging back and forth playfully.

“It’s just you and me.”

Adam tries to speak, but no words come out. Instead his eyes roam over her, hungry and dark, and Jaz has to press her thighs together to stave off the want. Adam is slowly unraveling, fidgeting a little wildly and squirming in the leather chair, and Jaz thinks he’s never looked more unpredictable.

“Will you do something for me?” That gets his attention and his eyes fly up to hers. She reaches inside her white button shirt between her breasts, eyes never leaving his, and pulls out the familiar pair of glasses he’d worn that day in Tehran. Adam’s mouth opens slightly, and when she bends down to place the glasses on his face, Adam freezes as his gaze locks on the visible edges of the white lace bra under her shirt.

Jaz hums appreciatively at the sight of him and licks her lips on instinct, tracing her fingers lightly down along his cheeks, over his beard, caressing that distracting bottom lip of his with her thumb as she straightens.

“Where, um…how did you get…” Right now, he couldn’t string a sentence together to save his life.

“Lucky treasure hunt. Adam...” The soles of the white tennis shoes she’s wearing are now resting on his knees, and his body just moves on autopilot, leaning towards her like metal to a magnet. The leather chair slides forward as Adam runs his large calloused hands softly over her shins, around the back to cup her calves, squeezing involuntarily as he looks up at her, questioning.

“Jaz?”

“Please,” she breathes while leaning back, hands on the desk behind her for support. When he pushes her legs back and open, and anchors her feet on the edge of the desk, her head falls back with a slightly desperate moan. The sudden rush of air over her hot, aching center shocks her, but Adam’s deep raspy growl drowns out her strangled cry as he takes in the full sight of her.

“Fuck, Jaz…” Feeling the suddenly intense grip of his hands around her ankles, she chuckles triumphantly because that’s the exact reaction she’d imagined when she’d chosen to forego wearing panties under her bright pink tennis skirt.

“Surprise.” Jaz’s voice trembles with anticipation, and because she can feel his warm breath so close to where she needs him, her hips roll forward on instinct, back arching, searching for the feel of his mouth on her. It’s his turn to grin now at her disapproving whine, because payback is only fair and he’s going to take his time savoring this. Her.

Closing his eyes for a second, he takes in her scent- she’s been wet for him for hours it seems, and it makes his cock painfully hard. He’s immersed in the experience of her, the sighs and deep breaths as he rubs his beard over the perfectly smooth skin of her inner thighs.

Traveling up her silky tanned legs, his hands come to rest over her knees for a second before pushing gently, opening her wider to his gaze.

“God.. Adam, please…” Jaz has been planning this for days, dreaming about it, and if he doesn’t touch her soon- really touch her- she will implode.

“Shhh… Sei geduldig .” He tells her to be patient, in fucking German, and Jaz feels the heat low in her belly grow into wildfire. Without warning, he runs his tongue from her opening up to her clit and closes his lips around it, sucking hard.

The incoherent rambling coming from her lips is enough to make him lose some of his self-control, but he’s ready for her, and holds her in place easily as she jerks against his mouth, chasing the pleasure, moaning his name.

“Adam...I need.. Please… now.” Two fingers slide inside her, rough and fast, curling as he feels her clenching, and not a minute passes before stars explode behind her eyes, body going limp.

“Wow.”

“Just wow? Ouch.” Adam jokes, looking down at her, relaxed and beautiful, thick black hair fanning around her on the desk.

Jaz rolls her eyes and offers a mischievous grin. “That was a good start.”

It reminds him there’s still way too many clothes between them, and his eyes darken behind the glasses as Jaz hooks her legs around his waist for leverage, comes up to snake her arms around his neck, and pulls his face down for a kiss.

Adam makes quick work of her shirt and bra, and when she moves to take off the skirt bunched around her waist he breaks the kiss and stops her with his hand. “Leave it.”

At her raised eyebrow, he touches a finger to the glasses on his face and explains, “You’re not the only that’s fantasized about this...us.” He emphasizes that last word with a pointed look - his attempt at communicating so much more than he’s able to verbalize just then- and Jaz bites her lip.

“Good.” That’s all she can manage, because his familiar piercing stare that’s always felt a bit unnerving but reassuring, is doing nothing but making her wet and desperate for him again.

“So, professor,” her wicked smirk sends a blinding spark of need straight to his groin, “you gonna stand there and talk, or show me how it’s done?”

“Jesus, Jaz…” Adam growls as he threads his fingers through her hair, closes his fists around it, and proceeds to devour her mouth. Jaz never knew a kiss could feel like this, and while her head is swimming in delirious bliss, her hands are busy ridding him of his clothes.

The moment she wraps her fingers around his cock, Adam opens his mouth and inhales sharply, lips still brushing against hers.

“Fuck, Jaz...yes, baby….” Jaz hums her approval as he sweeps her tongue inside her mouth, and sucks on his bottom lip one more time before breaking the contact.

“Condom. Now. Drawer.” Adam fumbles to find it, too blind with desire to even register that she’d put it there purposely. Just how long has she been planning this?

“Let me.” Taking the foil square from him, Jaz rips it open. Adam brings his forehead down against hers, wide blue eyes focused on her slender fingers rolling the condom over his cock, and he thinks he won’t live another minute without burying himself deep inside her.

“Fuck me, Adam,” Jaz whispers as she looks up at him with hooded eyes, and that hot coil of desire low in his belly grows so strong he feels like a geyser on the inside, ready to erupt.

Spreading his legs wider, he leans his thighs against the desk, and brings his cock to her entrance. With a rough desperate hand on her ass, he pulls her forward to the edge, and then finally sinks into her, hard and fast.

Holding her head firmly in place with his other hand, Adam thrusts his tongue into her mouth in a blinding kiss. Jaz holds onto his shoulders for leverage, nails digging in, begging for speed as she tightens her legs around his waist.

The need for air forces them apart briefly as the pleasure and sensations overwhelm them both. Slurred, incoherent half-words mix in with the sound of their hips slamming against each other, filling the silence in the room.  

“Oh, god. Jaz…you feel… incredible.”

“Don’t stop, please...Adam… more...”

Adam tucks his face in her neck, sucking and licking at her sweet-scented skin, and Jaz bites down on his earlobe, whispering unintelligibly as she nears her breaking point.

She meets him thrust for thrust a few more times, and together they slam into oblivion.

Later, Jaz lays straddling Adam’s thighs, sated and content. He traces small circles on her back, restless fingers teasing the hem of the pink skirt gathered around her waist.

“Don’t think my brain can take any german right now.” Adam’s laugh rumbles in his chest and she rubs her nose against the hollow of his neck.

The silence stretches between them. “I can hear you thinking, Top.”

The sound of his nickname on her lips is jarring. Reality explodes around her. God, what has she done? But she is frozen now, unable to make a sound as her brain runs through the countless ways this could go so very wrong.

Jaz is still, her insides now cold as ice. Adam shifts slightly in place, and exhales an agonizingly slow breath.

“I think---”

                         _____________________________________

“What? You think what?” Jaz murmurs as the embers of the dream dissipate and her eyes open to the stark, cold darkness of her quarters. A deep sense of dread envelops her as she registers the way her thighs are pressed together, her soaked underwear, and the vivid images in her mind of pink skirts, those damn glasses, and Adam’s face buried between her legs.

“God…” She breathes, still so aroused, and horrified. She rubs at her eyes with one hand as she fumbles for her phone to check the time. What the fuck was that, Jaz?

4:55 AM.

Time for a damn run.

[spoofenshmirtz]

i’ve been seeing people complaining about how much akechi there is in the anime, even people who say they’re fans of him, and lemme just. comment on that for a little bit [p5 and p5a spoilers under the cut, naturally]

first of all, yes, it does feel weird seeing the cameos of him throughout the first four episodes - because we know who he is and what he’s done. to people familiar with the games, it’s weird seeing him appear with no context like this for an entire month of episodes.

but, i’d like to say that with tonight’s episode, the cameos proved themselves worthwhile. because tonight, akechi’s role as a detective, in particular the detective opposing the phantom thieves, was finally solidified. he had cameos throughout the first four episodes to build up to the reveal of who he is and what he does, and now, his role has been made explicit by having him show up at leblanc and prove his existence to ren, who’s just agreed to continue the phantom thieves business together with ryuji, ann and morgana.

is this weird to people who have played the games? probably, yes! in the game, we never met him by name until after madarame, and this time around, he’s been introduced to us before we’ve even met yusuke! it’s throwing us off a bit because it’s not what we’ve been expecting; however, to someone unfamiliar with akechi’s role, i bet he’s just now had his role and existence validated by having him appear as a detective right after ren and his friends have agreed to continue their criminal activities. his rivalry with the phantom thieves will now come off more natural; and with him appearing at leblanc and monologuing to ren about detectives and rivals (while reading fucking lupin vs holmes), so will probably his attention towards ren. he’s met ren, now; his interest in him post-madarame (unless it shows up even earlier in the anime!) might seem more natural if he already knows the boy, if he’s already met him.

what i’m saying is, akechi’s role in the game is so undermined. he could have been played off as such a great rival character, but he’s always kind of shoved aside to give space to other things, especially with how they treated his betrayal. in the anime, they’ve gone the complete opposite way around and have chosen to utilize his rival potential; how it’s gonna change future events, i can’t even imagine. i’m pretty sure most things will play off the same up until sae’s palace, but what they’ll do with akechi after that, i have no idea.

(i’m still rooting for an akechi lives route. i really want him to get to witness shido’s breakdown and confession. i’ll forever stand by his “death” being a much too lazy and weak “redemption”; his sacrifice is little more than accepting and asking for forgiveness for what he did to the phantom thieves directly, seeing as they’re the only ones who gain anything from it. for all his other crimes, it’s more akin to running away from it, choosing death instead of atoning for his sins. him surviving and facing his crimes would be much more satisfying, in particular for the phantom thieves since akechi wouldn’t have to end up “the one they could never save”, in that case. i want him to live! please?)

does akechi being given more space in the anime undermine other characters? maybe a little bit. but, keep in mind that we’re only five episodes into a series that’s likely to be 24+ episodes long. everyone’s gonna get plenty of time to grow as characters, and akechi’s only had like four cameos and two proper scenes so far. everyone else still has more screentime than akechi, his cameos don’t steal time from other characters, and in some cases, he doesn’t even take away time from other characters by appearing in the same scenes as them! and him coming to leblanc in sae’s company is a nice touch, that sae actually brought him there!

am i extremely biased in this question? yes. absolutely. it’s no secret that i’m head over heels for this bastard. but i also recognize his lack of utilized potential in the game. as much as people like thinking that him being so controversial is proof of how complex and interesting he is as a character, i don’t think you’ve done a character well if half the fanbase outright hate them and half claw at your feet begging for more content. i love both komaeda and ouma and i still think that the controversy and hate surrounding akechi fucking obliterates the controversy surrounding either of those characters. it’s ridiculous how torn opinions of akechi are, and if they’d done him better and made his redemption more satisfying, maybe some people wouldn’t be so quick to outright hate him?

what i’m trying to get at is, i’m hoping the akechi content in the anime will just, do him better. make his involvement feel more earned, more natural. as it stands in the game, he feels kind of forced on you, which i can understand makes lots of people kind of angry with his involvement. like they’re forced to witness this random dude kinda flirt, kinda approach you from weird angles, and then this same dude goes and tries to murder your ass twice. i’m hoping the anime will make his involvement more natural, his interest in and interactions with ren more smooth. because they really are not in the game. they’re not. i love every second i get with him, but it pains me how dirty they play him, and i’m really only seeing how bad they did him while watching let’s plays of p5. there’s a lot of specific interactions that i can’t wait to see how they’ll do in the anime, if they’ll do them right or make the same mistakes the game did; but, judging by how they’ve changed stuff so far, it doesn’t seem plausible that they’ll go the same route again. luckily!

GOD i’m typing up a storm. another point though, it’s not like akechi is the only character who gets some added fluff. ryuji’s renren scene is stuck in my brain forever. ann got to see shiho, on screen, after she woke up from the coma. really, most of the stuff being explicitly cut from the anime as opposed to the game seems to be from the downtime, when you hang out with confidants and choose your own time. and it’s good that it’s being cut, because there’s already so much story to get through without considering the social links!

(on that point, seeing as akechi and morgana are the only teammates whose social links aren’t optional to advance, it would kind of make sense that akechi would be showing up so much..! despite how much i wish they would’ve made akechi optional as well, if for nothing else then just to not make his betrayal so goddamned obvious. i get that the way they played it off made the reveal that you always knew he was gonna betray you the big surprise rather than him shooting you in the head, but goddamn if it doesn’t make me salty after realizing that, because it just adds to how upsetting it is that you never tried a different approach with akechi. you always knew he was gonna do something, so why did you wait until the very last second to retaliate? and choose to use him, a guy you already knew has a rough background and a deep-seated grudge against adults, as a tool in your own convoluted plan? what the fuck, phantom thieves?)

i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to write so much. i just want to point out how akechi’s actually getting a relevant role in the anime, as opposed to the game, and that that’s the main reason why people are so weirded out by his appearances and cameos. it’s not bad that he’s appearing a lot, y’all, it’s a narrative choice to give akechi space to grow, for one goddamn time! it’s all very deliberate, and maybe it does pander to akechi fans, but where’s the harm in that? akechi deserved better and i’m thrilled to see someone make a damned effort, at the very least!

tl;dr: akechi’s cameos and increased number of appearances in the anime as opposed to the game only seems weird because we already know who he is and what he does; the purpose the cameos actually serve is building him up, as a character, to give him a proper role of the detective opposing the phantom thieves, as opposed to him being carelessly shoved in at awkward moments in the game and never being quite utilized as a rival. he’s being given relevance in the anime and that’s absolutely not a bad thing!

[altfire-archive]

Sister (an Overwatch fic)

Rating: G Word Count: 1.7k Summary: Orisa sustains an injury and needs healing.

[Read on Ao3]

Walking with three legs and no free hand isn’t as easy as it might seem, and as she limps back to the transport with her leg in hand, Orisa can’t stop thinking of how upset Efi will be when she hears of the injury. She’s leaning hard to the right, a combination of the missing front leg and the heavy Fusion Driver weighing her down. The sun overhead is warm and the air is humid, the weather beautiful. The rest of the team is celebrating a job well done as they pile into the transport (except for Roadhog, who seems as unfazed as ever).

Orisa is last to approach the ramp, numbers spinning on her HUD - how likely is a fall with three metal legs on glass, while she is so off-balance? How likely is a scolding from Efi when they have to fly to Numbani to get her repaired? How likely is it that Orisa will be allowed to stay with Overwatch after sustaining such an injury on her first mission?

“Hey, Orisa! Need some help?”

Her apertures blink, adjusting rapidly to clear the numbers. She realizes she’d just been staring at the lip of the ramp for several seconds, distraught.

“Perhaps,” she says. “I believe there is at least a thirty-two percent chance that I slip, with my balance so... disrupted. I am worried I may cause further injury to myself.” She holds up her leg and gestures with the Driver at the space it had previously occupied. Lúcio nods, frowning slightly.

“I don’t think my skates will help,” he says. “Can someone else help her up?”

There's a beat of silence, then a grunt from Roadhog that startles Orisa. He approaches her, footsteps booming (and it is so strange to face a human that is her size, whose face is somehow less expressive than her own), and takes hold of the bicep on her Fusion Driver arm, then helps her climb the short ramp. Once she is inside, he sits back down on the floor, paying the team at large no mind.

“Thank you, Roadhog,” Orisa says nonetheless, and he grunts in response, nodding slightly. A small victory.

The entire team aboard, the ramp raises to close behind her and the transport lifts off.

“Let me take a look at that,” Lúcio says, approaching Orisa and holding out his arms toward her leg. She tilts her head, holding it out of his reach.

“I must go back to Numbani at once for repair,” she says. “It will be easier for Efi if I have my pieces-”

“We’re going back to Gibraltar, not Numbani,” Lúcio says. “And you can’t walk around three-legged until we get a chance to head out again.” He gestures with his hands. “Maybe I can help you out. I am a healer.”

“I offer my assistance as well,” Zenyatta says, rising from his meditation. Orisa’s apertures widen to take him in, having forgotten he was there. His silent movement in battle (she wonders how he floats - it has to be magnetic, somehow, right?) made him almost fade into the background as she struggled to keep her Projected Barrier up against the constant barrage of enemy fire. Now, however, he stands on his feet, his orbs hanging benign around his neck like massive mala beads.

Orisa tries to step back from them, but her behind collides with the wall noisily and somehow the movement of her armored plating causes the open wound to spark brightly.

Armor integrity: 3%, reads off an alert on her HUD. Seek immediate repair.

“...All right,” she says, handing Lúcio her leg. When she lets it go he sags under the weight and his skated feet swerve to maintain balance.

It takes some finagling, but eventually they figure out a position that lets the two healers help her. She stands with her back feet planted on the ground, free hand outstretched for balance as her front leg standing on the table, glasses and playing cards brushed aside for the moment. The Fusion Driver has been disconnected and lies on the curved seat, and Orisa feels inexplicably... naked. The extra weight on an unstable side of her body was troublesome, however, so its removal was probably for the best.

Lúcio is stood on the seat between Orisa and the Driver, working with a small set of light tools to physically re-attach the leg, hands small and nimble, working wires and cables and supports with a musical fluidity. He hums quietly to himself as he works.

Zenyatta is on her other side, standing on the ground, watching Lúcio work and offering assistance. The DJ’s healing music is playing, but with the amount of damage she’d taken, it wasn’t able to do much. The biotic tech stitched scratches in her armor together, and in some places somehow fixed up her paint, but it did very little for her leg. The plan was for Lúcio to get it mostly connected, then Zenyatta would deploy his own healing to do the rest. With the two of them combined, they predicted that it would be good as new. Or, at worst, serviceable until they could get her to Dr. Ziegler or a mechanic (Lúcio suggested they ask Pharah to take a look if need be). Aside from occasional direction for Lúcio and soft whirs of servos, the monk is silent.

It takes maybe half an hour of diligent work before Lúcio straightens and shrugs. “That’s all of it, I think. Work your mojo, man.”

Zenyatta makes a noise like a soft laugh and nods. His orbs raise from his neck to float, glowing with energy Orisa doesn’t understand. There’s a bright flash of yellow light and then- oh, it’s very hard for her to explain. It feels almost as though she is overheating, warmed from the inside, but instead of triggering warnings and her cooling system, it feels... pleasant. She looks up to see a yellow orb of light, tethered to her by a stream of energy almost reminiscent of her mini-Graviton Charge. Her vision is rimmed in yellow and she feels an almost otherworldly peace in the back of her mind, pleasant thoughts of Efi and Numbani and her own successes and triumphs almost managing to distract her from her leg reconnecting to her body successfully, Lúcio amping up the volume on his music to aid further.

“We are as one, my sister,” Zenyatta says, resting a palm on her side gently, the contact welcome.

Armor integrity: 80%... 85%... 90%... 95%... 100%.

As it finishes, Orisa full-body shivers and steps back off the table, testing the give and take of her leg. It’s fine, as if nothing had happened, and she laughs.

“Thank you, Lúcio and Zenyatta,” she says warmly. “I am grateful for your assistance.” Orisa holds out her fist toward Lúcio, and after a confused pause he lights up and bumps his fist against hers.

“No problem,” Lúcio says with a beaming smile. “That’s what teammates are for. It feels alright?”

“It’s perfect, thank you,” she replies, then turns to Zenyatta. “What is this?” She points at the orb still tethered to her.

“My Orb of Harmony,” Zenyatta says, orbs once more settling, and the warmth leaves her buzzing as the orb disappears.

“What is it, though?” she asks again. “How does it function? It did not feel like biotics or nanobots.” As she speaks, she holds out the stub of her right arm toward the Driver and activates the powerful electromagnet, causing it to drag across the table and forcefully snap into place.

“What did it feel like?” Zenyatta asks, and Orisa pauses.

“It felt... warm,” she says. “Safe. It felt like... like a home I have never been to.”

Perhaps it is a trick of the light as Zenyatta bows his head slightly, but he seems to smile wryly. “That, sister, is the light of the Iris shining through you.”

Orisa has many questions, and it seems he can tell as he laughs, settling in lotus position on the floor where he stood. “Sit with me,” he says. Orisa does as told, spinning in place to make sure nothing will be crushed under her weight, and tucking her legs gingerly beneath herself. When she is situated, he speaks again. “Ask your questions. I can feel them buzzing inside your head.”

“Why do you call me ‘sister’?” she asks. “What is the Iris?” A pause. “How do you float?”

Zenyatta laughs again. “I call you ‘sister’ because you and I are one within the Iris. And as for your second question... I cannot answer that. The Iris shines its light where it is welcome, and it seemed more than welcome within you.”

Orisa feels only more confused, tilting her head and re-adjusting her apertures. “Is it because we are omnics?”

“It is not not because we are omnics,” Zenyatta says, and the double negative does not help. “I have dedicated my life to the Iris, and through it I have found ways to aid my allies and destroy my enemies. Through the Iris, we omnics can transcend our programming and be more than we imagine.” He paused. “Perhaps you have heard this before.... They say that the only thing separating omnics from robots is that omnics have souls. There’s no explanation for it - Omnica Corporation called it a fluke of their mutating code, experts and philosophers have ideas but no answers. The Iris is the cause and the effect, the source and the product, where we begin and where we end.”

Orisa pauses to mull this over for several moments of silence. “That doesn't make any sense, Zenyatta.”

“Neither do we, my sister,” he said with a playfulness that should have been unbecoming of a monk, but fit Zenyatta just fine. “Yet here we are.”

She mulls that over, but can't think of any more questions that would perhaps lead to a more concrete answer. She nods silently to herself, thoughtful.

Then, she remembers her last question. “How do you float?” she asks, prepared for perhaps another nonsensical, philosophical answer about the Iris and omnic souls and a strange, innate power that rests within-

“A force even more mysterious,” he says smoothly, and Orisa leans forward in her curiosity. “Magnetism.”

The answer startles a laugh out of her. Her trepidation of before is gone - she cannot wait to tell Efi about this.

Thanks for reading! If you liked it, pls reblog and maybe head over to Ao3 to give kudos and a comment!!