#okay now for the nightly debriefing

[darth-kote]

[coco-loco-nut]

007 - part 3

pairing: oscar x reader

summary: no spoilers 🫡

masterlist part one part two requests open

—————

“These are the files,” you toss the drive to your team as you make your way to change out of disguise and into sweatpants - you deserve that much. You barely get a second to yourself, having to go straight to a debrief and getting ice for your bruised knuckles.

“You could’ve called for backup,” your supervisor says.

“There wasn’t time, I narrowly avoided being caught and captured,” you can’t shake the invisible weight and fear off of you.

“This got to you. You are one of our most skilled agents, that is abnormal for you,” your supervisor observes the tension in you, and they are right. You feel off.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore, the danger. I can’t put my soulmate through someone showing up at the door in uniform for me,” you choke up a little, the same vision as earlier flashing in your mind.

“Do your reports, go home, take a few days, then let’s talk about it. Make sure this is what you want, once you are out of commission, there is no coming back,” you are dismissed, a flash of empathy from your supervisor. You’ve never done paperwork faster.

A quick call to Alexandra using a burner phone is all you need as you book the first flight in the morning - her phone number was the only one you could easily find. She didn’t question your urgency, she simply promised that there would be a pass waiting for you and Charles would help your surprise happen.

You arrive at the paddock half an hour before qualifying, the bit of luggage you have stored at the hotel. Alexandra meets you at the entrance, helping you quickly get to McLaren. Charles clearly roped Lando into it, since he is waiting for you outside the motorhome.

“Finally! Maybe you can get Oscar out of his head. Just for the record, I’m glad you are alive,” Lando takes you by surprise when he hugs you. You feel your stomach flip as you knock on Oscar’s door.

“I’ll head to the garage in a minute, Lando. Just go without me,” Oscar yells. Lando winks and walks away, leaving the two of you.

“I’m afraid Lando isn’t out here,” you reply, hearing quick shuffling on the other side of the door. Oscar nearly rips the door off its hinges opening it. You don’t even get to properly see him before you are pulled into the tightest hug you’ve ever had.

“Hey, it’s okay, I made it out,” you whisper, rubbing his back. Oscar pulls you into his room, still practically glued to your side.

“You scared me, I thought the worst,” his voice cracks. You wipe a stray tear from his cheek.

“I know, I’m sorry. I came here as fast as possible. I would’ve sent a text, but all I had was a burner and that would freak you out more,” you speak in a slower and calmer tone, helping level him out. He just holds you close, needing to reassure himself that you are here. You don’t mind, you missed it, you missed him.

“Okay, now it’s time for you to shine on the track. I will tell you everything that happened later. Go show everyone what you can do,” you gently pull away.

“Are you coming too?” Oscar asks, gathering his things.

“Of course,” you let him take your hand, knowing you will follow him anywhere.

The first thing you do when you get home is find Boots, your tuxedo cat. Oscar is right behind you, taking your luggage to your bedroom. He hears a meow from beside him.

“Hi Boots,” Oscar leans over to scratch the kitties ears, making a mental note to send Max a picture.

“I’m so tired,” you yawn as you search for your pajamas.

“I’ll pull them out, go ahead and do your routine,” Oscar says gently to which you give an appreciative look, heading into the bathroom to speed run your nightly routine.

Oscar grabs one of his t-shirts and a pair of your sleep shorts, handing them to you as you let him use the bathroom before joining you in bed. He appreciates the comfortable silence, unspoken words as the both of you create a domestic life with each other.

Oscar wraps an arm around you, holding you against him as the beat of his heart quickly lulls you to sleep.

You find yourself once again in a chase, trying to escape with sensitive information when you feel blinding pain. As you lay on the street, bleeding out, you see the same vision. Oscar standing at the door, getting the news that you died.

“Y/n” he says almost pleading.

“Y/n. Y/n, come on, wake up,” you feel your body shake, and wet tears on your cheeks as your eyes close.

With a gasp your eyes fly open, heart racing as you frantically look around the room and feel your chest.

“Hey, hey, you are okay,” Oscar says soothingly, rubbing your arm. “It was only a nightmare,” he moves his hand to your face, wiping away the tears.

“Shit,” you whisper, not knowing what to say, just focusing on your breathing.

“Wanna talk about it?” Oscar asks, concerned that there was more that happened on the mission than you told him. You just shake your head no.

“Okay, I’ll get you some water, stay right here,” he kisses you before sliding out of bed. It only takes a minute and by the time he gets back you seem better.

“Thanks Osc, sorry for waking you up,” you carefully take the water as he gets back in bed.

“You don’t need to apologize. Nightmares happen,” Oscar shrugs.

“I still feel bad. I promise I will tell you about it in the morning, I just don’t want to relive it right now,” you set the water on your nightstand, shifting closer to Oscar for cuddles. You did talk it out in the morning, Oscar is a great listener.

“My mom used to sing me this song when I woke up terrified from a nightmare. It sounds a little silly, but I swear it works,” and that was how you found yourself being serenaded by Oscar at 3am. It did work, because halfway through the song you are asleep on his chest.

A few weeks later, you and Oscar invite Logan and Lando over for dinner, which goes well until Logan puts on a spy movie.

Oscar chuckles every time you grumble about something not being right. You are tucked into him as you sit between him and Logan. Lando is cuddled with a popcorn bowl and Boots on the chair beside Oscar. Eventually Logan pauses the movie, mid grumble.

“Hey! I was watching that!” Lando gestures to the TV, mouth full of popcorn.

“He’s not even doing paperwork,” you say, not realizing everyone could hear you. Lando looks at you confused while Logan clearly wants to know more.

“What else is wrong? Like tell us a real story,” Logan practically begs.

“I don’t know if I have anything declassified to tell you. Most missions are long, I’ve had some short action ones but those were mostly be being brought in last minute for one part of it so the assigned agent could lay low,” you choose your words carefully.

“Wait? You’re a spy?” Lando gasps.

“I’m not answering that,” you immediately say, your instinct to be defensive kicking in.

“Wait, have you ever like, you know,” Lando’s words fall heavy on your shoulders as you stay quiet, barely able to meet Oscar’s eyes.

“It’s a hard job,” Oscar gently rubs your arm, reassuring that he doesn’t think less of you.

“What else is wrong with the movie?” Logan asks, trying to change the mood.

“Well, you are never alone. You always have a team helping you. You might be physically alone, but a lot of the time I had help with intel from others and stuff like that. Only a small part of the job is the paramilitary stuff. You recruit locals to help. Although that doesn’t always work. I wasted a month tracking a government employee for suspicious activity, but she was just feeding stray cats. Right Boots?” you smile at the cat who is too busy grooming himself to pay attention.

“So when you and Oscar first met?” Logan starts his question, but you answer with a nod.

“I had been working on that case for about a year, someone got new intel, and I took action,” you say as little about it as possible.

“Back to the movie,” Oscar tells Logan as he holds you closer to him. He presses a kiss to the back of your head as you find yourself reflecting on your life since 18.

The next week, as you are about to take yourself out of commission, you are offered a training position. It offers stable hours and better pay, as well as being out of danger. You happily take it, especially because it will allow you to travel with Oscar more.

Oscar is thrilled, mostly for your sake. He has seen to toll that the job has on you as well as the passion you have for it, and he’s glad you were able to get a happy medium. It makes it easier for you too when people start questioning what you do for work.

“What do you do professionally anyways? We never asked,” Kika says as you lounge beside the resort pool with Alexandra during your first girls trip. Lily, Carmen, and Rebecca were with you but left to grab drinks. You all skipped most of the race weekend, finding it to be the best available weekend.

“I train government employees and sometimes military personnel. Sometimes I consult on different things,” it’s a lot easier to believe than simply not saying anything. You think about the mission you were read in on for advice and perspective.

“That sounds so cool,” Alexandra says, clearly interested.

“And secretive,” you don’t miss the playful tone in Kika’s voice, but you play it off.

“Guys, I’m not like a spy or some super high ranking government employee. I literally just train people,” you laugh.

“Here’s your drink,” Carmen hands you the fruity cocktail you ordered. You tried the stereotypical whiskey or bourbon or plain liquor thing, but you’d rather enjoy your drink than struggle to drink it.

“I love race weekends, but it is so nice to be out with just us girls,” Lily sighs as she sits down.

“Same, it’s too bad Flavy and Marilou couldn’t be here,” Rebecca chimes in. You are so grateful that you found a great group of friends.

“Oh, it’s Osc, I’ll be back in a few minutes,” you can’t hide the smile you get when you see his name across your screen.

“Hey, I just wanted to see how your weekend away way going,” Oscar says as you answer the video call.

“It’s a lot of fun. I do miss you though,” you take in his appearance, messy hair and all.

“I miss you too. I’ve gotten used to having you around,” he replies

“You know, if someone told me a year ago that I would step down and this would be my life, I wouldn’t believe them,” you muse, happy with where your life has led you.

“Me too. When the season is over, I am taking you on a proper vacation. Just us,” Oscar promises. A little put off that you two haven’t spent more than a couple days alone together.

“That sounds wonderful. How’s the race weekend going? We’ve been trying to keep up with it,”

“In between your drinks and lounging by the pool?” Oscar teases, a playful glimmer in his eye. “It’s been fine, I need to push a little more in qualifying to get off the third row. I’ll try to take pole for you though,” he runs his hand through his hair, making you a little feral. What can you say? You miss your soulmate.

“I’m sure you will,” you bite back the flirty remark you want to make, and a part of you think that Oscar knows what he is doing. You chat for a few more minutes before having to end it.

“I gotta go, Osc. I love you,” you tell him, knowing you will likely drunk text or call him at the club later.

“Love you too, stay safe,” he hangs up and you make your way back to the girls.

“I think Pierre and I are going to plan a wedding for late next year,” you hear Kika say. Marriage is only common for those born without soulmates or the ability to find their soulmate due to the lack of marking and/or pull. It has become slightly more common among soulmates as a way to publicly celebrate a bond.

“That’s so exciting, when is he proposing?” you ask as you sit down.

“We’ve been talking about it for the past month, but he’s waiting to surprise me,” she beams and you all celebrate with her. You selfishly think about if a wedding is something you would want with Oscar.

On one hand, the bond you share is enough for you, and you don’t need a wedding to solidify that for you. However, it would be fun to celebrate your bond with all of your friends and Oscar’s family. He has yet to take you to Australia, but you frequently talk with his family on the phone and made off-season promises.

“You okay?” Alexandra nudges you a few minutes later.

“Hmm? Yeah, I guess I just miss Osc. No one really prepared me for how dependent on your soulmate the bond makes you,” you confide.

“Well, then I guess it’s a good thing tonight is the last night we are here. Soulmates are an interesting thing. No one’s experience is exactly the same and some pairs take to each other quicker than others,” Alexandra pauses for a moment, watching you contemplate her words. “I know there are parts of you that you hide from all of us, and Oscar makes you feel safe. It’s only natural that you want to be with him,” she smiles softly, taking your hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“There is a lot about me that I wish you could know. Maybe one day,” your smile is bitter, you hate having to lock so much away. It isn’t safe for them to know yet, and you can’t disclose certain things yet.

“That’s okay, we love you and we don’t need to know your past to love you now,” she reassures you.

“Even if I lied to you before?”

“Well, that would be entirely circumstantial, but nothing we couldn’t get past,” Alexandra says as Kika joins you. You make the decision to disclose your biggest secret, the one only Oscar, Logan, and Lando know.

“I lied about my life before. I was a spy, in simple terms. I recently left that position, but I worked in espionage, reconnaissance, and paramilitary operations since I was 18. Now I train them,” you explain, voice thick with emotion. The girls stay silent, letting you speak.

“So when you weren’t at the race weekend after we met and Oscar was,” Kika drifts off, your silence is confirmation enough.

“He said you had a personal emergency,” Alexandra fills in.

“It was the reason I stepped back. I can’t go into detail, most of my life since 18 is classified information,” you watch their reactions.

“We are here if you ever want to talk,” Kika hugs you.

“How did I get so lucky?” you feel tears in your eyes as Alexandra joins the hug.

“Life puts you where you need to be at the right time. Now, it’s our last night here, so let’s get ready for dinner and go party,” Kika tells you, bringing up your spirits. And it works, the night flys by and it isn’t long before you find yourself getting of the jet, ready to go as a group to the race. It is a night race, meaning you all can make it there rather than watching elsewhere.

Oscar was practically bouncing with excitement when he saw that your jet landed. He is excited to meet you at the paddock entrance, missing his lucky charm.

“Osc!” you call to him as he looks around for you. You barely have time to prepare yourself before he’s pulling you into a hug.

“I missed you,” he says into your hair. You take in his warmth, feeling at home.

“I missed you more. Somehow I even missed you hogging the blanket,” you tell him, letting him lead you to his drivers room. His arm is secure around you, keeping you as close as possible. You catch him up on your weekend, telling him everything you didn’t on your calls.

When you get to his room, he pulls you onto the small couch with him, holding you close. You study his face, memorizing every mole, the curve of his amused smile, and the way his eyes crinkle.

“What are you staring at?”

“You, duh. No wonder I’m the detective of us,”

“You aren’t a detective, you sometimes analyze intelligence,” Oscar looks at you with a shit-eating grin, one which you mirror.

“Shut up,” you bury your head into his shoulder and he holds you tighter.

“Maybe I shouldn’t show at the race. I can just stay here with you,” Oscar hums, happy to never move again.

“Well, that wouldn’t be optimal, seeing as how you took pole,” you recall your excitement at seeing the result first thing when you woke up.

“I told you I would,” he murmurs into your hair. “I’ll even win for you,” and win he did.

The season wrapped up quickly, with Oscar taking home one more win and finishing third in the WDC, just behind Max and Charles. True to his word, the first thing the two of you did was take a week to yourself, then a week in Australia to meet his family who were even nicer than in the video calls.

You and Oscar settled in together, moving into a house shortly before the holidays that suited both of you perfectly- with ample space for Boots of course. Max and Charles took you in as their ‘daughter-in-law’. Lando got more stories out of you when drunk, none highly classified. Logan started a tradition of watching spy movies, happily letting you pause and provide your input. Alexandra and Kika helped you find who you are outside of your job. Most importantly, Oscar showed you what it’s like to be and how to be loved.

[fruitcoops]

Hopelessly Devoted

O'Knutzy Week Prompt C2: "Hello, There". Prompts by @oknutzy-week-2024, and characters (of course) (with love) by @lumosinlove <3

TW for joking mentions of romance-novel smut

Leo had never seen someone work as hard as Finn O’Hara. He saw it in the straight line of Finn’s back and the solid set of his shoulders, even when he was calm. He saw it in everything he did—in love and, up until recently, in hockey. He was unequivocal dedication, embodied.

He was sure Finn would say the same about him; he was sweet like that, pretty face and prettier words that were always so honest they made Leo’s ribs hurt with the pounding of his heart. Finn liked to call him brave. Leo had started believing it after the last decade had proven it true in more ways than he cared to count.

And, Christ, Leo counted everything. Endless cycles of goals-assists-saves-loss-win-horror-victory that left him bolting upright at two o’clock in the morning well into his first season of retirement. Netminders kept perfect track of the game and every player coming at them. Remus’ mental playbook of every player in the NHL was only uncanny because he was out of the goal. Leo still remembered the tics and tells of most everyone he’d ever faced.

But what was there to count, now? Beautiful mornings? Those happened every day, though he hadn’t been awake for sunrise in three blessed years. Exotic vacations? He had a wonderful time on their honeymoon (all three of them), but he’d always prefer visiting one of their families.

The pan sizzled softly when he flipped the bagel with a practiced flick of the wrist. Leo smiled to himself. Maybe he should start counting Finn’s annual bacon-egg-and-cheese total. He’d probably come up with the same number if he bought a calendar and ticked the days by hand.

Finn’s commitment to his mid-morning snack was rivaled only by his unwavering passion for bodice-ripper novels, and the evidence of said passion filled their kitchen with a flurry of furious clicking while Leo slid the bagel carefully onto a plate.

See, Leo thought it was a joke, at first. A funny little prank Finn was playing on his new rookie roommate, tucking raunchy paperbacks into the bookshelf between Brontë and Dickens to make him blush. Har-dee-har-har, you got me, I’m such a prude.

Finn had not been joking.

And then it was endearing, like all the other Finn-isms of which he was so fond. It was just…such a silly hobby for an athlete—a former frat boy, no less!—to have in an environment like the NHL. It felt absurdly right that Finn, with his big smile and open heart, would unabashedly love books with oil-paint cover art of a lady fainting into the arms of a conveniently topless bodybuilder. Leo had tucked it into his heart and let it lie.

Finn retired.

Finn was utterly horrific at sitting still.

Finn started with Marie Adkins’ 1942 classic A Rogue for a Lady and ended with Eleanora Zimmerman’s yet-unpublished installment of Zoe Cross’ Cross-Continental Affairs: Volume III, officially clearing the romance collections of all three public libraries near them. His whoop of joy when Ms. Zimmerman answered his email inquiry with a PDF of her manuscript had startled Logan so bad he spilled coffee across the kitchen island and into his lap.

But reading—devouring—the books wasn’t enough. Finn’s systematic rip-through of every literary soap opera he could get his hands on came with an elaborate Goodreads account as well as a nightly debrief.

Leo fucking loved it. Listening to Finn parse out his opinions like an Ivy League lecturer quickly became the best part of his day, especially when the season wound down. It was permanence and consistency while his head whirled with thoughts of this one, just this one single last year and then I’ll really be done, this time for sure. Finn loved hockey like everything else: with no holds barred. He left it, and he was okay. More than okay—he was thriving.

But no hobby was without its faults.

So fucking stupid, Finn had muttered with a sharp shake of his head. I just can’t. It’s a disappointing plot and, worst of all, it’s poorly paced.

Leo and Logan had shared a look across their spaghetti. Finn could give no greater insult to books known for their overdramatic style than ‘poorly paced’.

Well, Logan had said, carefully, almost casually. We all know you’d write it better.

Damn right I would, was Finn’s forceful answer as he stabbed a noodle onto his fork.

Then do it.

Leo had to admit even now that he hadn’t expected that. Perhaps he should have, from Logan. There’s an issue? Solve it. His ‘no more running, no more bullshit’ oath when they were first starting latched into most things he did.

Finn had wavered about it for three days. Once (and only once) he nudged Leo awake at 7:30 in the morning, still sweaty from his run, to ask him if he thought publishing under his real name was a bad idea. He had been forced to mull that one over on his own when Leo banned him from post-shower, mid-coffee cuddles for the crime of dripping sweat onto his pillow.

Finn decided to start writing a book on a Thursday morning in the middle of March, bought a new notebook and a nice pen, and promptly didn’t write a word until his birthday in August.

I’m a failure, he had moaned into Leo’s chest, half-suffocated by the thick fabric of his hoodie. I’m so stupid.

No, baby, you’re not stupid, Leo had soothed. It was a little hard to breathe with the full weight of him splayed useless across Leo’s body, but that was nothing new.

I’ll never write a word. I’m cursed to keep reading forever and being mad about shitty romance with bad, boring characters. The 70s did it best.

Leo remembered sighing in sympathy. But they’re all straight.

But they’re all fucking straight! Finn had groaned. He didn’t move from his puddle of misery and writer’s block until Logan came home and knocked on the back of his head with a pack of pre-sharpened pencils and a cow-print composition book.

Goodreads reviews became graphite smudged on Finn’s hands and cheeks. Small spiral notebooks cropped up around the house, and eventually settled as Finn’s stalwart companions on his morning jogs. When the pencils wore down to nubs, he bought the crappiest pen Leo had ever seen in his life—when that ran dry, he bought another, and a third, and then all the notebooks grew into a teetering tower on Finn’s desk overnight.

A stapler followed, and red pens.

March rolled around again and the tapping of Finn’s laptop became a comforting ‘hello’ when Leo came home from practice. Finn didn’t talk about his book, but Leo didn’t mind. As long as Finn was happy, he could be patient, even if curiosity chewed at him day and night.

When do I get to read it? Leo had finally begged in the heat of June, turning over in bed four nights after his final NHL game. He was restless already and hardly sleeping. He needed something other than endings to occupy his mind.

Finn had smiled at him. The point of his nose pressed to Leo’s. I sent the manuscript out last week. The first copy is yours, Peanut.

Leo had kissed him for that most thoroughly.

“Hello, there.”

Leo smiled into a hidden freckle behind his ear and wrapped his arms around Finn’s chest, giving him a squeeze. “Hey.”

“This for me?”

“You sound surprised.”

“Yeah.” Finn’s head rested back on his shoulder. Leo took the weight happily. “But not really. Ugh, my eyes hurt.”

“Wear your glasses.”

“I wore them yesterday.”

“Didn’t realize they had a recharge time.”

“You know, plastic and glass can be really high-tech these days.”

Leo covered Finn’s eyes with one palm; his lashes fluttered and his chest shook with a laugh. “Glasses,” he insisted, dragging his hand up to Finn’s forehead to tilt his face all the way up and meet his gaze. “Keep this shit up and I’m not putting special sauce on your bagel sandwiches anymore.”

Finn’s soft doe eyes went bright. “What special sauce?”

Leo quirked a brow at him. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“C’mon, that’s not—”

“Glasses or I eat it and you never, ever get to try it.”

Finn gasped. “You’re starving me.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“Fucker.”

“You’re just mad yours never turn out as good as mine.”

“Poltergeist.”

“It’s because you don’t heat the pan enough.”

“I do!” Finn protested, sitting up and turning sideways in his chair to face him. “I did everything right when you showed me. It doesn’t taste right.”

Leo shrugged. “You’re cursed. Sucks to suck.”

Finn groaned and thumped his forehead against Leo’s collarbone. The hair at the back of his head was soft when Leo scratched through it; the muscles of Finn’s neck relaxed on a slow exhale.

“Same or new?”

“New,” Finn mumbled.

Leo hummed. For three weeks, he had been waiting for Finn to scatter his attention to the handful of ideas that had been left in the void. He refused to send books to his publisher until he could read them aloud to his captive audience of two without turning five shades of red and blowing a frustrated raspberry at the draft. Many had not yet passed that test. “From your list?”

“Nah.”

He nuzzled his nose into the top of Finn’s head. “ ‘S it about, then?”

“A prince.” Finn raised his head slightly. A kiss found the neckline of Leo’s shirt. “And a knight.” A second alit on his bicep, lingering long enough to feel his lips move. “And the sun.”

“That’s cheating,” Leo whispered through his smile. “You’re not supposed to write about us.”

“The New York Times bestseller list disagrees.” Finn lifted his head. His nose scrunched. Confidence rouged his cheeks, and Leo wasn’t a writer, but he’d pen poetry about that any time. “My self-imposed rules can wait. I have a good feeling about this one.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” Finn raised his eyebrows and leaned close like he had a secret. The plate with his cooling sandwich chimed at a tap from his pen. “It’s funny. Something tells me they’re gonna end up together in the end.”

Leo looked at him for a long moment, then darted a kiss to the bridge of Finn's nose. "Are you putting porn in it?"

"Are you going to let me eat my bacon-egg-and-cheese with the special sauce that you made because you love me so much and you think I'm so cute and sexy?"

"Yes."

"Sunshine, I will write all the porn you want."

"Hmm." Leo let his eyes drift to the laptop screen (just a little peek, a tiny one, not even a real spoiler) but Finn's hand lowered it before he could catch more than a glimpse. He made a disgruntled noise and straightened. Foiled again. "Wear your glasses and I'll make you one tomorrow, too."

[rainydayandmondays]

Secret Santa is Coming....

Summary: Time for the Secret Santa gift exchange and Andy knows you deserve only the best gift. And who says it can’t be a gift for both of you.

Pairing: Andy Barber X Reader, Jake Jensen

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: 18+ only. Explicit language, explicit sexual content, male masturbation, female masturbation, voyeurism, Daddy kink, slight non-con

Author’s Note: A follow up to the Thanksgiving Potluck. I don’t think Andy is okay with just a one-shot with his sweet girl.

“Mr. Barber.”

Andy looked up to see you standing just inside his doorway. Your hands dropping to be held in front of you, he watched as you momentarily shifted from foot to foot. You were uneasy and that should never be how you feel around him. He dropped the affidavit he had been reading back to his desk, before rolling his shoulders, and sitting back in his chair. Something had you skittish and he wouldn’t have that.

“Yes, sweetheart.”

You bow your head at the nickname, your bashful reaction to it would never get old with him. However, he did try to use it sparingly. Waiting until you two were mostly alone, he would softly say it and watch you smile before catching yourself.

“Can I talk to you about something?” You looked at him, your brow furrowing as you waited for his response. Something was wrong. He could feel his own unease build up the longer he watched you, your fingers now fidgeting in front of you.

“Is that even a question? Of course, you can,” He gestured to the seat in front of him.

You seemed to loosen up at his response, your hands dropping the gripped hold you had them in. Turning to close the door behind you, you gave him a small hopeful smile before taking the offered seat.

He continued to sit back, despite wanting to inch closer to you. You were calmer now and he didn’t want to break you from that peace that you had regained, “What’s going on?”

You took a quick inhale before asking your question, “Are you the one leaving coffee on my desk every morning?"

The coffee. You knew about the coffee. After Thanksgiving, he hadn’t wanted to give up the feeling he felt watching you enjoy him so much. He embraced the flashes of you licking your lips after finishing his potluck offering. They would keep him busy popping up over the long holiday weekend.

Laurie had ordered in catering for their family meal. Things were starting to pick up for her at work as they entered the holiday season. Buying everything and then cooking the turkey dinner wasn’t something she was willing to take on. Instead, they had pulled the plastic containers from the takeaway bag, quickly heating them up before sitting down to the saddest Thanksgiving meal. Thoughts of you were the only thing that pulled him out his funk to start pulling down Christmas decorations from the attic.

He decided that weekend that he would find a way to share that with you again. Your friend may have thrown out that thinly veiled threat, but he would find a way around it. Returning to the office after the holiday, he decided to keep his ritual to his nightly shower. No more parking garage camera feed for your noisy friend to make noise about. He found if he worked late enough, by the time he got home, there would be no one up to ask why he took a tumbler with him to shower.

Filling up his trusty tumbler every night, he would grab it from the refrigerator each morning as he waved goodbye to a wife and son who seemed to be more enthralled with their phones than anything he was doing. Heading to the local coffee shop after his morning swim, he would sit in his car adding his special ingredient to the small light roast brew with double espresso shots and half and half.

Making sure to get in as early as possible, he would leave the cup of coffee on your desk before hustling to his office. He had done so for the last week, a smirk lighting up his face when you brought the cup to the weekly team debrief for the latest cases. But now you knew it was him. He should have known you would figure it out.

Trying his best to not react to your question, he pulled on all his skills to keep the best poker face. He could come up with a reason for it that wouldn’t return you to that ball of nerves that had stood in his doorway.

He cleared his throat before responding, “You caught me. I know the late nights you have been putting in. That can’t be easy to do and then only to go home and help your parents. Figured you might need something to look forward to.”

You hummed at his explanation, looking down before returning your gaze to him, “That’s very kind, Mr. Barber. Sweet even. It’s just…people like to talk. I’ve worked so hard. And I don’t want anyone to think that I got anything because of…because of anything else other than work.”

Your eyes had continued to flit between him and your hands in your lap as you spoke. He could tell that you had thought through your small speech, probably even prepped yourself on your drive in. He also knew that one of the office gossips had gotten to you. He was selfish and he wanted the moments with you but not at the risk of you feeling uncomfortable.

Leaning against the desk, he looked at you straight on, expressing as much empathy as possible, “Understood. No more coffees.”

Your shoulders finally came down from around your ears and you sighed, nodding back in thanks.

“Thank you, Mr. Barber,” you replied before rising to walk towards his office door. He wanted to correct you. Remind you to call him Andy. However, he figured it was best not to push his luck. Watching you push the wrinkles from your skirt as you walked away, he called back to you, “I don’t want you worrying about this or what anyone may say, okay?”

Stopping to look over your shoulder, you reached to grab at your necklace, “I won’t.”

“Promise me?” He smirked as you continued to twiddle with the gold chain.

“I promise,” you answered as he nodded for you to leave.

With the click of his door closing, he looked down at his desk, saving your promise to his memory. He’ll use it later tonight.

Holding the slip of paper in his hands, your name neatly scrawled across it, he smiled to himself. A couple of people in the office decided to put together a Secret Santa exchange. Apparently, the Thanksgiving potluck was such a success when it came to team building, the higher ups agreed to the next holiday activity. Even had HR sign off on it.

Andy had been in court when the bag of names had been passed around. He didn’t give it much thought. Since your stop in his office a week ago, he had kept his distance. It wasn’t something that he wanted in the slightest. But he was willing to respect your genuine worry about office gossip. No more tumblers, no more early coffee runs. The research requests still happened but always through the weekly team huddle.

However, now seeing your name chosen for him, he had to smile to himself. Of course, it would be you that he would get. Of course, him trying to keep his distance would mean you finding a way back to him.

He sat down, leaning his chin in his hands, “Okay, sweet girl. I understand.”

The office had pretty much cleared out with most people starting their holiday vacations. The last few streamers from the small Christmas luncheon had been balled up and chucked in the bin, when Andy made his way out to the bull pin. You were waving off the last of the other paralegals as you collected your stuff to make your own way home.

“Hey sweetheart,” he saw you jump a little before turning to him.

You had worn a red Christmas sweater with a white bow handstitched along the collar. Your normal pencil skirt had been replaced by a pair of black slacks. And although not his favorite, the pants had done wonders for your ass. He had watched as you moved around the office putting up the last-minute decorations, only to take them down.

“Hi Andy.” You replied turning and looking up at him from your office chair. He caught the small smile that wanted to break free at your utterance of his name. That was good, you were comfortable around him again.

Clearing his throat, he brought the gift bag from behind his bag, presenting it to you, “Merry Christmas.”

“So, you were my Secret Santa,” you smirked looking at the packed gift bag he had hastily bought from the Walgreens down the street.

“It’s a three-part gift,” he answered, nodding towards it and urging you to open it.

Taking the stuffed tissue paper from the top you reached in pulling out a pink tumbler. You let out a small giggle, “For my coffee?”

He fully smiled this time, before shrugging his shoulders and pointing to the remaining items in the gift bag. Putting down the tumbler, you turned back to the bag, reaching the bottom of it, you pulled out a wooden paper weight. Carved into the center was the seal for Boston College Law School. Your brow creased as you tried to piece together the meaning of the gift. He watched as you finally looked back to him, your look pleading for an answer.

“That’s the second part. An old college buddy of mine is the registrar. I told him about a paralegal that had aced her LSATs, had helped on numerous high profile ADA cases, but hadn’t had the chance to enroll yet.” He looked on as the puzzle started to come together in your mind. Your brow creased further as tears started to line your eyelashes.

“They have grant funds set aside every year for students that display great potential. He took care of everything. You can enroll whenever you’re ready. There will be a space for you. That’s the third part.” He whispered the last of his explanation. The tears that had been threatening to fall now ran fully down your cheeks.

“Oh my God. Thank you.” You jumped from your chair, throwing your arms around his shoulders.

Initially taken by surprise, he hesitated momentarily before letting his body relax into your hold. His hands landing on your back as you sniffled into his dress shirt and whispered quiet thank you’s in his ear.  He threw up his own thanks at the office being empty. Something tells him that you may have restrained yourself more with an audience.

Starting to feel you pull away, he resisted the urge to cling to you. It had been a while since Andy had a genuine hug. He had been mostly regulated to side hugs with Laurie. Every once in a while, it would include a kiss to the cheek. And Jacob, well he was fully rooted in his teen years and any idolization that he might have had for his dad had been long gone. He would only get quick nods of recognition from over the top of the phone from his son. But now with you, he could feel the heat of your body, the small catches in your breath as you tried to regulate your outburst. This was something he couldn’t give up.

“I’m so sorry. That’s not very professional of me. It’s just…this means so much to me.”

Your tearful smile at him tempted him to bring you back into his embrace. To just hold you as all the happy tears flowed out of you.

You giggled again, shaking your head, “I have to tell my parents. I have to…”

He nodded at you, seeing all the possibilities run through your mind. He had opened doors for you. Had given you a better future. Had put that delighted smile on your face. He had done that. You quickly began to pack up your remaining things, yesterday’s brief stuffed in with your laptop. Turning to him again, you smiled again grabbing onto his forearm and squeezing.

“Merry Christmas sweetheart.”

“Merry Christmas Andy.”

“Can you believe it, Jake? I can enroll whenever I’m ready. There’s a space just waiting for me.” You talked animatedly to your best friend as you placed the carved paperweight on your bookcase. It would sit perfect with your old undergrad books and picture of Jake and you from your graduation.

“That’s amazing, Ace! So, he just called a friend and got this all sorted out?” Jake asked facetiming you from his room.

He had suspicions about your kind of boss since before meeting him Thanksgiving. You had mentioned how many late nights you had been spending at the office recently and how walking out at night gave you the heebie-jeebies. The protector within him woke up immediately at that, ready to offer to pick you up if he needed to. You would never ask him to do that yourself. That’s when you brought up Andy Barber and how he started walking you out.

It hadn’t taken Jake long to dig up information on the ADA. He had the white picket fence life, although there wasn’t too much about his past listed. That was the first red flag. Hacking into the courthouse’s camera feed had been relatively easy. These older government buildings never bothered upping their security.

Andy Barber always parked in one of the garage’s blind spots. That would be the second red flag. After you left, Andy wouldn’t be seen exiting until half an hour later. What could he possibly be doing in a parked car for thirty minutes? That was the final red flag.

“His friend is the registrar at the school. He was able to work it out. What?” Sitting down on your bed, you leaned back looking at Jake on your phone. He was making his slightly worried puppy dog face.

“It’s just that’s a lot to get coordinated so fast.”

“Why can’t you just be happy for me, Jake?” You asked only to see Jake’s face immediately deflate. The worried puppy dog look morphing to kicked puppy. His eyes widening behind his glasses.

“Of course, I’m happy for you Ace. It’s just that you’re too trusting sometimes.”

“I’m not a child,” you grumbled back, and Jake wanted to jump through the phone and ease your anger.

“You’re not. You’re a person with a good heart that wants to believe the best in people,” he saw the crease in your brow ease as he spoke, “And that’s why I gotta look out for you.”

Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide your small smile at Jake’s statement. From the first moment he had run into on his skateboard, knocking both of you over in the quad in college, he had looked out for you.

“When do you come back?”

“Why? Do you already miss me?” You watched Jake wiggle his eyebrows suggestively, causing a round of giggles to erupt from you. He pretended to be hurt by your outburst before continuing, “Probably not until the new year.”

You hummed, sitting back up, Jake and you sat in silence as he watched the disappointment take over your expression. He searched for a way to get you to smile again when he heard the knock at the door. Quickly looking back at the door, he breathed a sigh of relief seeing he had locked it.

“I gotta go, Ace.” He watched you nod a short okay, before finally getting up from your bed.

“I miss you.” “I miss you too, Jake.”

Andy sat down at the desk in his home office. Neck stretched back along the back of the chair, as he thought back on the last couple of hours since getting home. Walking in, he noticed all the lights were off, not even the Christmas tree in the den was lit. Disengaging the alarm, he made his way into the kitchen to see a sticky note stuck to the fridge. Laurie had to go back into the office to finalize the preparations for the end of the year gala, while Jacob spent the night at a friend’s. So much for family time.

Putting an order into the local Italian place, he went upstairs to change out of his work clothes. He contemplated jumping in the shower, until he heard the doorbell ring with his takeout. Turning on the tree in the den, he ate his pasta dish with only the twinkling Christmas lights on. What had his life become? What had his family become?

Dropping the to-go containers in the trash, he wandered back to his office. He thought about powering up his laptop and finishing the closing remarks for one of his cases, when he found the holiday favors that you had passed around the office this morning. Your red sweater on, you greeted everyone with such joy for the upcoming holiday. He couldn’t help but smile up at you, as you left the favor on his desk.

You were a sweetheart. His sweetheart. His sweet girl. He rubbed along his bottom lip as he remembered your reaction to his gift. The hug had surprised him. But fuck if he hadn’t loved every minute of it. He didn’t even mind the soft sniffling you made as your tears stained his tie. He had made those tears.

Opening his iPad, he logged into the recently downloaded program. Would you have already told everyone about what he had done for you? Would you have passed around the carved seal of your new school for everyone to admire? Would you have put it in a place of pride? He wasn’t sure, but it couldn’t hurt to check.

Finishing entering the credentials, he watched as his screen came to life and he saw your bedroom space. It was cheerful like you, with multiple pillows adorning your bed and bursts of color in the pictures you hung on your walls. He devoured the scene, greedily taking in everything he could see, when he heard the click of the bedroom door. The small camera was powerful and could zoom 10x but was stationary in the middle of the school seal.

He waited, hearing you hum a Christmas song along the with opening and closing of drawers off camera and the tossing of a bath towel on the bed. Finally making your way into view, he saw your silk two-piece set. The navy-blue pajama top with white piping along seams hugged your tits. Your free tits, there’s no way you were still wearing a bra with the way your nipples poked through. And the shorts that accompanied it, covered the curve of your ass, but he watched as they inched up as you started to turn down the bed.

He shifted in his seat as he set the iPad to lean against the monitor stand on his desk. Widening his legs and easing back into his chair, he adjusted himself. He hadn’t had a chance for his nightly ritual. But seeing you now, he was happy to see he would have new things to add to his memory. You always knew how to take care of him. His sweet girl.

After setting most of the pillows aside, you climbed into bed, reaching over for your earbuds and phone. He couldn’t tell what you were listening to but judging by the content smile on your face, it must be good. He watched as you closed your eyes, listening to whatever was piping through your earbuds. Reaching down, he rubbed himself through his pajama bottoms. Nothing too aggressive, just softest of touches. The kind he always imagined you would give him. Always delicate and soft at the start.

He sighed to himself as he watched you, “My sweet girl.”

Lost in the moment, he didn’t catch you shifting at first. However, looking back at the screen, he saw your hand move to your top. You let out a small sigh as your fingers started to flick at your nipple, rolling it between your fingers. He frantically sat up, engaging the zoom function to watch up close. Your nipples were amazing, and he knew given the chance he would lap at them, giving them little bites to see you squirm. Your eyes were closed, breathing harsher, as you played with your tits.

“Play with her tits, sweet girl. Show me how sensitive they are,” He whispered as he took full hold of himself. After hitting his fist on the underside of the desk, he pushed back from it to make room for his hand as he continued to slide up and down his shaft.  

He could hear the little sighs you were making as they started to get louder. He knew you would be vocal. You would tell him everything that made you feel good. Both your hands covered your tits while the buttons of your shirt lay open from where you had torn it open to get your hands in.

“Jesus, you’re going to be the death of me.” He squeezed around the tip before breaking contact with the screen to spit down onto himself. At feel of his warm saliva, that winking eye dribbled out onto self.

Hearing shifting, he looked back to find you grabbing one of the pillows you hadn’t bothered to put aside. Now, what were you doing now? He watched as you grabbed the forgotten towel still at the foot of your bed. Placing the pillow in the middle of the bed, you draped the towel over it before swinging a leg over and straddling the setup.

“Fuck me. Take what you need, sweet girl.” He grunted as you started to rock back and forth on the pillow.

Your hips started a natural rhythm, one hand still pawing at your tit while the other held you steady on your perch. As he looked on, the more he dribbled out on his hand, and he finally reached down pushing his pants and underwear off. His ass was momentarily cold on the leather of the seat, but he couldn’t be bothered to care as you kept humping your pillow.

“Daddy.”

Andy nearly swallowed his tongue when he heard your whisper. Your bottom lip now caught between your teeth as you whined.

“Daddy is here. Fuck, I’m right here.” He fisted himself, finally dropping to grab onto his balls and rolling them in his palm.

“Daddy, please.” You mewled out your whimper and he had to grab tight at his base to avoid blowing his load right then and there. You were close, but fuck him, if he missed it by losing it first.

“What do you need, sweet girl? What do you need from daddy?”

“Daddy, I can’t.”

How could you answer him? You had to know. His sweet girl was so smart, she could figure anything out. You had to know he was here. That he could see you. That he was watching you. You were doing this for him.

“Yes, you can. Daddy says you can. I’ll even count down. Five.”

You stuttered slightly before picking up your pace again.

“Four.”

He tightened his grip, corkscrewing his hand on each trip up.

“Three.”

Your breathing was getting harsher as you brought down your other hand, using both to steady you as your hips rolled.

“Two.”

He was almost there. His balls had already started to pull up as he planted his feet to thrust into his fist.

“One. Come on, my sweet girl. Come for daddy.”

He nearly lost it, as you threw your head back, mouth gaping in a silent cry, and the rest of your body spasming. Fucking his hand, he watched as a gush of liquid flew out of you, wetting the towel beneath.

“Oh fuck. Such a good girl. Such a good, fucking sweet girl.”

Standing up, he aimed for the screen as he lost it on the image of his sweet girl squirting for him. He twitched and continued to rub out every ounce he had for her. For once, he didn’t think about it going to waste. It hadn’t, not with what you had given him tonight.

Bracing against the edge of the desk, he flopped back into his chair, as you rolled off your pillow completely drained.

“Thank you, daddy.” You gave one final whisper before peeling off your pajama shorts and grabbing the covers to go to sleep.

“You’re more than welcome, sweet girl. Rest now.”

Andy watched you snuggle into bed, returning to the woman he knew from the office. No longer the horned up, little one that just needed her daddy to take care of her. Taking a tissue from the console behind him, he wiped himself down before wiping the screen and desk. Pulling his boxers and pajama pants back up, he started to log out of the camera’s app, when a dialog box popped up, asking to save or delete recording.

He hesitated only for a moment, before clicking save.

Maybe these work holiday functions weren’t the worst thing in the world.

@sarahdonald87

@buckybarnesisdaddy

@theinheriteddutchess

@welp-heregoessomething

[loadedberetta]

Barracks 4

König x fReader // callsign Misfit; fem no body desc // MDNI

summary: Time soon came to answer to the Colonel, about the botched hit you fucked up a few days prior.

2.8k words // rating: E/18+ // MDNI

(sequel to Apartment 10)

warnings: porn with some plot; humiliation; implied past experience with Ghost; possessive König because that's fun; quick blowie; breath play?; exhibition if you squint your eyes; dacryphilia; some German; nicknames used: callsign Misfit, Mausi (little mouse), Schatzi (treasured one), braves Mädchen (good girl); Reader is left blueballed as a punishment

a/n: it's hella self-indulgent okay? I'm sorry but Reader sometimes gets left on read it'll be worth it I promise

Stitches healed swiftly on your hip, and your bruises faded in opposition to the memories made on that fateful mission.

Colonel König blinked down at you expectantly, walking around behind the metal chair while you were sat further from him in the room filled with other members of your faction.

For some godforsaken reason, he was still in gear, his flight back from mission landed just minutes before he called for a debrief about recent events unfolding. The rest of the meeting didn't concern you much, but when he mentioned your name, blood froze in your veins.

"…and as you might know, the American banker related to AQ transactions is still on the loose, thanks to the bashfulness of our Misfit." He cleared his throat, and you averted your gaze, face burning with embarrassment. "Roze, mission is now yours. Next…"

The world faded quickly into a blur after that. The moment the debrief was over, you headed for your room after taking a thorough cold shower to try and wash away the edge the last few days had left in you.

It hadn't even been a full minute since you were back in your room, three knocks rippled through the stale air of the room.

"One moment!" Your voice rang out, quickly pulling a new shirt on your otherwise uncovered upper body.

Tugging some pants on, you opened the door to the small room and were met by a dark figure on the other side.

"Colonel!" You yelped quietly and crossed your arms swiftly across your chest to try and shield your perking nipples underneath the green shirt.

He sighed. "Can I come in?"

His thick Austrian accent turned even more prominent with the level of agitation that so obviously radiated from him.

"Yes, uh… yes." Your face felt hot again at your state. Barely any clothes on, hair still wet from the shower, room in disarray.

He stood still in the middle of the small space, which enhanced his figure even more. Tearing your gaze from his hips, now sans a tactical belt, you closed the door and leaned against it, not expecting much positive.

He was usually way more lax in his nightly visits to your quarters.

"Your report is nonsensical, Misfit." He rasped, turning around, the hulking frame now facing you. You gulped, as his wide body almost blocked out the moonlight filtering through the shutters, illuminating him in a strange light.

His helmet and hood were gone, only a loose ski mask hung on his head.

You didn't have anything to say, it was; you…

"…completely omitted where you spent the night, how you acquired meds, and why you didn't report in at all until morning." He sounded an inkling more protective than usual.

"Misfit, how did this happen?" He leaned forward a bit, gloved hands fidgeting while crossing his arms over his bulging chest.

"I got hit,-"

"That's not an answer to my question." He cut you off and scoffed under his hood.

It was extremely hard, to discern his expressions through the shadowy eyeholes of the fabric draped over his face.

"Moreover," He lifted a finger authoritatively. "you failed to mention that SpecGru was also on site! Verdammte Scheiße, Misfit!" He fumed under the surface and raised one hand to pinch the bridge of his nose over the hood.

Following his hand, you glimpsed the rough outline of the bridge of his nose under the cotton and gasped lightly.

"I asked you a question, soldier." You heard his stern voice ricochet off the walls a moment later.

Not waiting for an answer, he repeated himself: "Which one of them was there? Hm?"

He settled again, tilting his head and locking his cold, icy gaze on you.

Silence. He stepped closer.

"Cat got your tongue?" You saw as if he was raising a brow behind the mask.

"No, no, I…" You now laid flat against the door, dwarfed by his large body inching closer to you steadily.

"Who… was it." His breath would have fanned over your face, had the mask not separated his skin from yours. "Because I don't like my soldiers… converging with the opposite faction, you understand?"

The small nod you made with closed eyes was stopped by a finger on your chin, ungloved and cold. You gasped and opened your eyes.

"Don't tell me you're trying to protect them…" He cooed, ever so silently, as some footsteps passed by the room outside. "The only person here who needs protecting is you, Mausi."

A dark chuckle reverberated around you.

"Your silence is going to get you into more trouble than it's worth, now…" His tongue clicked, and you gulped in return. A small whimper broke from deep in your throat.

"Scheiße…" He scoffed with an audible smirk and lifted his head. "You're enjoying this…" He stated, rather than leaving the question up to you.

"Ghost… It was Ghost." You whispered, voice choked and burning with embarrassment.

"Was it now?" He perked up, placing a hand on the door next to your nodding head. "Warst du tapfer, ja, Schatzi? Look up, at me."

Your lashes fluttered as you finally found enough courage to blink up at his terrifyingly darkened features.

"Braves Mädchen… Now…" He placed two fingers below your trembling chin and pushed it upwards, making it impossible for you not to look into his glowing eyes. You felt your stomach somersault in place at his words.

The clink noise of the clasp of his belt rang in your ears before the barked command of "Kneel.".

Without a second thought, you did. However, you'd never done this, not with König. Punishment was going to be harsher this time.

You'd had a thing for him the moment you first arrived at KorTac a few months back. And he took advantage of it, not wasting a moment on formalities. He'd marked you for the first time after another member looked at you wrong. You hadn't even seen who it was before he grabbed you and marched you away to a quiet corner of the current base, and had his way with you. Confusion pooled low in your abdomen, mixing with arousal the moment he laid his hands on you. Then slowly, is eased. A few weeks of rigorous establishment of his territory (subtly to others and not so) subtly to you felt natural.

You'd become his plaything; and you had nothing against it. If anything, it was an experience to be enjoyed.

Marks left by him almost constantly make your skin ache in the most sensitive spots over your tits, collarbones, thighs… You were nothing more than a toy for him in your eyes and didn't expect much in retaliation for the wrong step you took with Ghost.

He couldn't have known about it. KorTac and SpecGru were not on talking terms.

"Now did you take me to be that dumb, that I wouldn't see it the moment I laid eyes on you? Hm?"

"What?" You asked, feeling minute on your knees. You weren't small, but to him, you couldn't measure up.

"That prick. He fucked your damn brain out of you."

"N-no, that's not…"

"Oh don't try to deny it, I've seen your medical already."

Diligently, you raised your hands to his hips, trying to veer his attention from the obvious.

"You're going to make up for it, I see. I want to see you try." A dark chuckle enveloped you, drowning out the hard thump-thump-thump of your heartbeat rumbling steadily in your ears.

Instead of answering, you nodded shortly, gaze now focused on the bulging length that dared to free itself should you not be quick enough about it.

Two clicks snapped your attention away from a vein you traced with your eyes through the fabric, fingers hooked in the brown belt loops.

"Langsam. Show me you are sorry."

You nodded again, rapid, overeager movements with your head. A hand patted your head and settled on the crown of your skull.

Not taking any more seconds to let the fleeting moment pass, you hooked a finger under the waistband of his tight, dark blue boxers, and unceremoniously freed his hard length. You knew how big he was, having taken him before several times, but it never came to this before. Already fearing for your voice in the coming days, you wrapped a hand around the base of his shaft.

Nothing but an exhale marked your actions. Wetting your lips thoroughly, you opened your mouth and inch by inch, started taking him. His hand didn't move on your head yet, and he was worryingly silent.

Wiggling your tongue to feel the same vein as your eyes did just a minute before earned you the first real sound he made that night. A low groan, short, punctuated, and to the point. Closing the tight ring of your mouth around half of his length, you exhaled shakily and closed your eyes with the sensation. A sticky, salty feeling settled in your throat, as saliva pooled below your tongue, making your next move more easy.

Throat slowly opening as you relaxed, you tried the impossible and took more of his length in. He hissed small above you, making your eyes flutter open again.

Dragging your head back, you almost completely removed your hot mouth from around him, only leaving the silky tip between your lips. You let your tongue wander up and down the pronounced dip of it and took him in again languidly with the same momentum.

An exhale hit your ear, forced and involuntary at the same time.

No words. No praise. Silence was your ally, letting you on that he didn't have a complaint.

Working yourself up again to try, you took more of him in, lips brushing your hand wrapped around the base before the sensation became uncomfortable.

"More…" Came the whispered command from above you. Looking up the best you could, you saw König's chin from below the mask, head angled back.

And you obliged. Inhaling through your nose and bracing, you closed your already weeping eyes and felt your wet lips connect to your curled index finger. The sensation was overwhelming, your throat being so full of something.

You felt pressure on your head, his hand first gently pushing you onto himself, losing control as seconds inched by. Feeling him twitch deep in your throat made your cunt pulse repeatedly, a warm feeling overshadowing the warning of dwindling oxygen in your lungs.

"Hold it." You heard him mumble, lengthening the syllables slightly.

A whimper broke from your lungs, with the last of the air stored in them before you felt like you couldn't hold his cock down your throat anymore.

"Yes…" He hissed as he let your head go, making you fall back onto your heels with a gasp.

Completely disconnected from him, you panted, breaking the line of saliva tracing your lips to his cock.

Without a word exchanged, you rose again and licked in small movements along his shaft, kissing it, trying to win time for yourself. His cock throbbed, hard and thick like you've never seen before. Your cunt remembered all the times he speared you open, rutting into you with reckless abandon. Clenching turned painful, as your tight pussy silently begged for his attention and soaked your tight pants.

His hand settled on your head again and guided you onto himself without a care. This time, he settled for a steady pace, lewd noises filling the room from the pooling saliva spreading around on his cock with each thrust.

He didn't talk, he rarely did. Lost in the pleasure, or simply not holding you worthy enough of praise, he had you settle on listening to his noises during it. Unusually desperate huffs and breaths escaped his mouth this time, stirring arousal in every part of your body, almost to the point of it becoming unbearable.

Languid thrusts quickly turned desperate; post-mission stress, the need to use you, and the simple lewd act of a blowjob sent him to the edge unusually quickly. His hand on the back of your head left no room for you to move, or even control your own movements, turning you into a breathy mess under him.

Your tears soon mixed with the cocktail of precum and saliva already running down your chin, dribbling slowly onto your thighs tightly pressed together. You were chasing friction by then, one hand still on his cock (although only two fingers), the other bracing yourself in the crook of your hip.

Neck threatening to cramp soon along with your shaking thighs holding yourself up slightly, you silently begged for it to be over soon. König's palm didn't ease up on your head, instead switching to slower, but much more agonizing, deep thrusts. Cockhead repeatedly punching against the back of your throat, you whimpered each time, swallowing around him when it became too much.

His noises started to pick up, hisses and grunts broke from his lips quicker and quicker. You tried pushing yourself off, getting a full inhale of air into your lungs, but it soon became obvious that it wasn't in your right to. Lightheadedness started to take over you soon, staccato whimpers drowned out by deep thrusts down your neck.

Thankfully, in what felt like an act of mercy, he let up the pressure on your head for a few moments, allowing you to finally gulp some air into your parched lungs. The new, shallow thrusts he settled for allowed you to save yourself from a blackout, but they simultaneously felt like they shattered your jaws each time in turn. Your grip strengthened on the base of his cock again, the edge of your palm nestled against his pelvic bone overspread with dirty blonde hair.

Feeling his body tense and let go, his moans becoming more strained and his hand finding its way back to the crown of your head, you knew he grew close to his climax. Wet sounds echoed all around you, and you were sure at least some of it was audible in the corridor leading up to your room.

Embarrassment washed over you but was quickly overshadowed by a strange sense of pride, bolstered by the noises König made above you as he quickened his already punishing pace driving his dick deeper into your sweet mouth again.

Half a dozen times, you felt his tip connect to the back of your throat before feeling his fingers roughly scratch your scalp. He stilled completely, and his inhale broke sharply. He pumped rope after rope into your needy mouth before he pulled away, uncaring to pearly drops still leaking from his glistening tip.

You managed to disappear his load down your throat in two separate gulps, letting your eyes flutter open during. You sniffled, and wiped streaks of tears down your cheeks as you heard him speak;

"Braves Mädchen, Mausi-" He stepped closer again but didn't make an effort to reach out to you. He did up his pants and snapped his belt close again. "You took me well." He stated rather matter-of-factly, as you remained on the ground, exhausted and ashamed.

"Komm." He offered his shoulder and leaned down. Eyes alight, you grabbed his neck and allowed him to take you over his shoulder, thighs pressed together by the movement. It made you see stars, that little friction you barely got from his touch.

The next moment, he laid you down roughly onto your bed and encased your figure by planting his two hands beside your head and separating your thighs with his knee.

"Sucking me off wasn't a punishment, ja?…" You nodded confused, wanting desperately to agree with him if it meant you'd earned his favour.

You felt his knee slide up between your inner thighs, pressing into your cunt a moment later. A sharp gasp left your mouth, and you threw your head back in ecstasy at the fleeting second of pressure on your cunt.

And then, the mattress lifted beside you, and the moon shined at you again.

"…But this is." He stood up straight, and you heard his voice not even trying to conceal a smirk. "I'll be back tomorrow." He grunted flatly and rolled his shoulders.

Unable to form words while sparks fizzing deep in your brain, spine alight and guts flaring, you sat up, mouth falling open.

"Close your mouth, that look is not flattering." He dismissed you before he promptly walked to the door. "And don't touch yourself until tomorrow. I'll be back at 10."

"Wh--" The rest of your complaint hit against your shutting door, König's footsteps already echoing down the hallway.

masterlist

a/n: oh no poor reader is getting denied oh no! I'm going to start to feel bad for her never soon! what if König and Ghost find her together what then? crossposted to ao3 too; feedback appreciated

[swiftyangx12]

🕷️The Adventures of Agent Arachnis!🕸️

[Ep. 2: Mission After Mission]

[Valorant x Marvel]

[Synopsis]: Being a Valorant agent is a tough job to defend Alpha Earth while having a side hustle in a society filled with other Spider-people.

[Gender Neutral]

[TW]: Violence, Arachnis having a rant towards the end, not good at writing Hobie’s dialogues (please, I need help with this.)

[(A/N)]: Arachnis is the call sign for [Y/N]. I think I got readers confused if this is an OC or something, but I’m thinking of creating a Spidersona of sorts based on the name.

[Earth 2020-6-2-B]

[Location: PEARL, 11:55 p.m.]

[Brimstone assigned Arachnis on a nightly stealth mission to retrieve some classified intel at a hideout where some of the Omega agents are resided in.]

Arachnis: *Silently crawls past the guarding Omega agents and leaps off from structure to structure silently*

[While the Spider Radiant was scouting out, avoiding attraction, some other spiders came along.]

Miles: Guys, this is a bad idea. What if they catch us?

Gwen: They won’t. We’ll just stay far away and watch.

Pavitr: Has anyone ever ask what they usually do on this Earth?

Hobie: Could ‘ave ask their friends when visitin’.

Pavitr: Guys, look. *Points at a distance where Arachnis jumps down from a building*

[The four rush over and sneakily lean over the edge of the roof. The gang watch Arachnis snatch every agents up and traps them in their webbing. Except one escaped and the VP agent senses this, charges at the escapee like a predator and pounces on them.]

Arachnis: *Bares out their fangs and bites on the Omega!Harbor injecting their venom*

Omega!Harbor: *Coughs heavily and faints, dying for good*

Spider Gang: *Gasps in horror*

Pavitr: No wonder they keep the mask on.

Hobie: Deceased after fainting. That’s brutal.

Miles: We should go back before they catch us.

《🕷️》

[Earth 928, Spider Society HQ, Spider Cafeteria]

[Everyone was silent, processing what they witness back on Earth 2020-6-2-B.]

Arachnis: Hey everyone!

Spider Gang: *Jumped up a little*

Arachnis: Is everything okay?

Miles: Yeah, yeah! We are just thinking about today’s mission debriefing. *Smiles nervously*

Arachnis: Uh huh. Anything good happened yesterday?

Gwen: Oh, uh…We played band while you were away.

Arachnis: That sounds fun. Anything else happened?

Pavitr: Oh! Just played some songs.

[Silence surrounded everyone until Arachnis breaks up the awkward atmosphere.]

Arachnis: Guys, I know you followed me during my last night’s mission.

[The young Spider kids shrink down to their seats of fear. Except for Hobie, who just shrugs.]

Arachnis: What were you thinking? Those enemies have guns ready to shoot down anything they see as a threat.

Pavitr: Sorry, Mr./Ms./Mx. [L/N]. We just want to see what you do outside of HQ.

Arachnis: You could’ve ask Miguel. I report everything to him since my universe doesn’t have The Lizard, Electro or anything yet they keep coming in.

Gwen: He wouldn’t tell us much.

Miles: *Nods in agreement*

Arachnis: *Sighs* Then I’ll tell you some snippets during my courses. Just please, don’t follow me like that again.

《🕷️》

[Earth 2020-6-2-B]

[Location: LOTUS, 12:45 a.m.]

[Spider-Man 2099 and Arachnis arrived through the portal and then the Spider Radiant realized too late where the anomaly is located.]

Arachnis: Oh no no no no! Miguel, we’re on enemy territory.

Spider-Man 2099: I know. That’s why I need you on this mission.

Arachnis: This is bad. We’re on Omega Earth and they have the Valorant League. Not VP.

Spider-Man 2099: Would you stop freaking out?

Arachnis: Asshole, I have the right to be. We’re on uncharted territory and it’s only us here. No backup.

Spider-Man 2099: You experienced this before.

Arachnis: Yeah, and now I need to kill them if they see us.

[While the two were bickering, Arachnis’ Spider Senses triggered and they pull out their Spectre aiming at a direction.]

Arachnis: *In defense mode* Get behind me, O’Hara.

Spider-Man 2099: I can handle this myself.

Arachnis: *Glares at him* O’Hara, you’re not familiar with Omega Earth nor my home world to the extent of having knowledge of its history, so stay behind me. That’s my order.

Spider-Man 2099: *Glares back at them and comply* Lead the way.

[As Arachnis cautiously strides toward the corner of a building, waiting for something to come out, their senses were triggered again and yelled out.]

Arachnis: Miguel, watch out! *Push away him away*

[Bombs detonated in front of the VP agent and poison exploded around the two spiders.]

Arachnis: *Coughing violently* This isn’t Viper’s toxins…

Spider-Man 2099: I told you I can handle this.

[A maniacal laugh erupted the air, catching the two spiders’ attentions. Something flew in front of their view.]

Hobgoblin: You can’t stop me!

Arachnis: *Shoots at the anomaly’s hovering craft*

Hobgoblin: *Dodges the flying bullets*

Arachnis: Fuck, that green asshole is wasting my ammo.

Spider-Man 2099: *Shoots his neon web at the craft and hoist himself at the goblin*

[Arachnis watch the two brawl out and without anyone realizing, they crashes into the body of water next to the map.]

Arachnis: Oh! Water damage. Miguel, are you okay? If so, this thing is all yours. I’ll take damage control. *Points behind at some Omega agents who just arrived*

Spider-Man 2099: *Drags the anomaly out of the water* [Y/N], you don’t have to kill them.

Arachnis: Oh, I’m not gonna kill them. *Pulls out a baton* They just need a good night’s rest. *Charges at the unsuspecting agents*

《🕷️》

[Back in the Spider Society HQ]

[3:47 a.m.]

[The Hobgoblin variant are imprisoned with the rest of the anomalies of villains/individuals waiting to return to their respective universes.]

Arachnis: Dammit, I got blood on my jacket. *Peels off the outer clothing along with their tactical gear*

Miguel: *Glances over at them from his panels*

[They’re wearing a compression shirt underneath all the layers they usually wear and it shows the physique, the muscles, everything that the Spider Radiant gained during their time as an agent from a different Earth.]

Miguel: “Dios mio. No wonder I received complaints about their training course.”

Arachnis: Miguel? Hey, you’re staring at me.

Miguel: *Breaks his concentration from them and clears his throat* You should go back home since the anomaly is captured. A report will be expected from the mission.

Arachnis: Yes, I know. I have reports everyday. I’ll see you on Friday. *Picks up their jacket and gear while leaving the lair*

Lyla: *Appears on Miguel’s shoulder* I know that look, Miggy.

Miguel: What?

Lyla: I saw how you stared at them. You’re even blushing a little, it’s cute.

Miguel: Lyla, could I have some peace even before 5?

Lyla: Alright, fine. Y’know you can’t deny what you just saw.

《🕷️》

[During a mission briefing]

Arachnis: *Staring intently at Miguel like they’re planning his murder*

Peter B. Parker: *Sees them being murderous-looking* *Sighs* *Whispers* It’s nice knowing Miguel while it lasted.

Jessica Drew: Oh calm down. I’m sure they’re just thinking of something up in their head.

Arachnis: *Inner thoughts* “Damn, O’Hara. Whatcha doin’ out here with all this ass? Double-cheeked up, on a Thursday afternoon. Hella ass, the sun is still out, ya Goober…Fuck, I wanna slap the buns so badly I’ll go feral.” *Intensifying their stare*

Jessica: Okay, forget what I said. They’re gonna kill him.

[Reblogs helps creators and creates for more content]

[Tagged]: @hhurric4ne @theladyheroine @l0serloki @radianights @miguelswifey04

[rachaelswrites]

Study Struggles

Avengers x Teen!reader

Word Count: 879

Requested By: Anonymous

Could i request something? ❤️ Reader is studying for finals and it's really difficult and she's sleep deprived and all of them notice and collectively make sure she eats and sleep that night? ❤️❤️

A/N: Thank you for the request!

Warnings: Mentions of not eating/sleeping

“Hello? Earth to Y/n?” you heard a voice say. You felt a presence in front of your face and opened your eyes, forgetting you were in the middle of a debriefing mission.

“Sorry,” you said, sitting up straight and focusing on what was happening in front of you.

“Now that everyone is paying attention,” Tony stopped, seeing you slowly starting to fall asleep again, “Y/n!” he yelled, hoping to scare you awake.

“Sorry sorry,” you mumbled. 

Steve was feeling sorry for you so he slid you a cup of coffee, “You look like you need this more.”

“My hero,” you said gratefully.

“Can we continue?” Tony asked.

You nodded and sipped your coffee as Tony talked on.

~~~~~

Since the cup of coffee Steve had given you, you had about three more to get you through the rest of the day. Everyone had noticed your caffeine intake increase and were becoming concerned. While you were out, the team gathered around to try and figure it out.

“Does anyone know why the kid was falling asleep during my meeting?” Tony asked.

“Or why she’s drinking coffee like her life is depending on it?” Steve added.

Everyone shook their heads and sighed. Hopefully they could get to the bottom of whatever it was soon since they didn’t want it to affect your job or your schoolwork.

Little did the Avengers know, school was the reason why you were so tired and had barely eaten. You had six classes and all of them decided that this week would be the week they had the finals in. On top of having to study for finals, you also had homework nightly for most classes. You had to spend the afternoons training and then evenings and night doing school. It was exhausting but you had coffee and energy drinks. It was all that you needed but the team disagreed.

Once everyone went to sleep that night, you grabbed your backpack and settled in the kitchen. You focused better out here than in your own room so you got to work, doing one subject at a time.

It was close to one in the morning and you were trying hard not to fall asleep right there on the table. You had coffee brewing and were about to fill up your mug but in your sleep deprived state, you dropped the mug. It hit the ground and shattered. You quickly cleaned it up and hoped it wasn’t loud enough to wake anyone up but within a minute, the team was in the kitchen, ready to defend the tower.

“Oh it’s just the kid,” Tony said, annoyed he woke up for this.

Steve brushed him off and looked at the state of the kitchen, “Y/n, how long have you been up?”

“Uh I’m not sure,” you said honestly.

“You don’t remember the last time you slept?” Bruce asked, getting even more concerned for you.

You shook your head.

Clint walked over to the table where your books were and looked through them, “Have you been staying up to do homework?”

You nodded sheepishly, “It’s finals week and I have a bunch of homework. I can’t fall behind so I just stay up and do it.”

“Y/n that’s not healthy,” Natasha said, coming over to you and putting her hand on your shoulder, “You need to sleep.”

“It’s fine,” you said, stepping away from her, “I have coffee and energy drinks to keep me up.”

“Have you eaten anything or just caffeine?” Bruce asked.

You looked away from him, giving him the answer he was afraid of, “You need to eat Y/n,” Nat said.

“I promise I’m okay you guys,” you said, sitting back at the table, “It’s only for a few more days.”

“Nope,” Steve said, grabbing your hand lightly and pulling you up, “You’re getting sleep tonight and we can deal with your teachers about all this,” he said, using his free hand to motion to your school work. He gently led you towards your room and you watched the rest of the team start cleaning up the table and kitchen.

“But what about all the caffeine in me? I won’t be able to fall asleep for hours,” you pointed out, hoping he would realize you were right and let you go back to what you were doing.

“Bruce will take care of that for you,” Steve said, stopping in front of your door, “Now, get changed and go to bed,” he opened the door and waited for you to step inside, “And I will wait here all night if I have to to make sure you don’t sneak out. Got it?”

You nodded and did as he said. You closed your door and slipped into comfy pajamas and crawled into bed. After a few minutes, Steve came in and handed you another mug, “Bruce said this should help get you to sleep.”

You looked at the mug, and then him, “Is this some weird medication thing?” you asked.

He shook his head, “It’s just an herbal remedy. It won’t hurt you.”

Steve watched you drink it before he was satisfied and closed the door again. Within a few minutes, you were out and got the best sleep you had in a while.

Taglist

@i-writes-things @thatsamericasass24

Marvel

`

[safetycar-restart]

Hello hello me again because watching that absolute shitshow of a GP gave me Thoughts, first and foremost of which: poor Charles!!! Baby deserved better :((( so obviously he’ll be needing a lot of cheering up tonight….you’re gonna have to treat him like glass and there’s definitely gonna be tears… he’s gonna drop HARD and the aftercare will be intense, he’s gonna be clingyyyy but you’d give him all the love & affection he needs because b a b y

Other Thoughts include: Mick’s crash :((( my heart leapt into my throat I’m so glad he’s okay!!! But he’s gonna be all sore & shaken up so he’s gonna need some TLC tonight… maybe not even sexual, he just needs to be looked after… maybe he’ll drop into littlespace or maybe he’ll just need to be held…. Speaking of being held, my heart breaks every week for Daniel.. when will he get a break??? He’s another who’ll need some TLC…

Lando & Georgie did so well tho!!! They’re getting some celebratory loving tonight!! Even tho Lando isn’t 100%, he was amazing & deserves some rewarding!!! And Pierre who had such a shit quali did some amazing overtakes, he should be so proud!! (he’s still gonna get wrecked tho ofc ;))…. 🐬

YES! IT’S TIME FOR ANOTHER ONE OF THESE! So for maybe new, I go through some races with the lovely 🐬 anon and talk about what you would do for them as a result of how their race went :))

CHARLES:

Poor baby Charles. He manages to keep it together enough to do interviews, but only just, and the moment thats over, he can’t even do the debrief. He can’t do a single fucking thing anymore. He just... he can’t. He can’t do it.

Mattia gets it though, luckily and just sends him to you. You take him home, back to his apartment and he drops halfway through the ride home. One minute he’s looking at you, the next he’s staring out the window, eyes glossy.

You have to be so careful with him anyway and he just breaks so hard. He cries into your chest, mumbling in every language he knows and you hold him through it.

The sex is slow and sweet, Charles crying the entire time but you get it. He’s dropped into subspace and he’s experiencing so many emotions but it’s okay because he’s safe here and he can feel them.

You don’t leave the apartment for the next three days.

MICK:

I definitely think for mick, it would be non-sexual. He’s so angry with himself and with everything but mostly, he’d be scared. Scared that he’s not good enough, that he’s a disappointment, that he won’t ever accomplish what he wants to accomplish.

So you take all his decisions away for the night. You strip him of all his clothes, he’s only allowed to wear his collar. He wants to be spanked but you won’t do that, he doesn’t get to even make suggestions tonight.

He’s deep in subspace by the end, drifting away as you instruct him through his nightly routine, rubbing lotion on his face and holding the cup of water to his lips for him to rinse.

He’s your boy that night. No one else’s. Not even his own.

DANIEL:

Honestly, I think Daniel might need you to be harsh. You’ve been soft for so long, and he’s needed that. He’s needed to feel loved and useful and everything else.

But right now, he’s got this anger and frustration bubbling in his chest and he doesn’t know how to make it go away. You do though you. You know it takes being rough.

So Daniel doesn’t have it easy. He gets manhandled and barely prepped and fucked so hard he can’t even remember his own name. And then he gets ridden to another orgasm, used as a toy, and even when he’s crying and begging for it to stop, you get another orgasm out of him before you do.

He’s spent them. Tired and sore and finally, he feels calm.

LANDO:

Lando did so good!!! You let him choose what he wants to do that night because he’s been such a good boy and he deserves a treat!!

He chooses to be blindfolded. Which is a great choice because you always love his reactions. You make sure to do all his favourite things and give in the moment he begs, he’s been a good boy.

GEORGE:

Honestly, I don’t think it would be very sexual for George either? Yes he did so well! And he’s so happy with himself.

But he’s just feeling so happy and a little giddy and nothing would make him happier than cuddling with you in bed, drinking hot chocolate and discussing random shit.

PIERRE:

Oh pierre is going to be absolutely wrecked. Poor guy won’t even be able to stand when your done with him and it’s exactly what he asked for.

He does go out, but for like an hour and then he gets too desperate and drags you back to the hotel. There’s no race next week, so you can be harsh with him and he loves every single moment.

He’s an absolute wreck by the end, and it takes him three days before he can even manage to be in a room without you but it’s the best. He loves every moment of it, including the aftercare.

[jbbarnesnnoble]

Look Me in the Heart

Summary: [Mel Edit: I goofed and didn’t put the right summary. I am a fool]

You and Natasha have been together for several years. You want forever, and she’s pulling away. 

Features/Warnings: Angst;

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff/Reader

Notes: This is a request from last year that I finally got inspiration to finish. As always, I’m opening to revisiting fics! 

Request:  “Could I request a Natasha x fem!reader fic please? Like one where Nat x r have been together for years but for the last year or so, R has wanted to get married but Nat keeps saying she’ll never get married. Nat doesn’t pay much attention to her anymore. One day, R, Yelena and Nat meet and Yelena pays a lot of attention to R, making her feel real good and making her blush and giggle every time Yelena compliments her/flirts with her. Nat gets annoyed and calls r out once they’re home (1/2)(2/2) They fight and r tells Nat all she’s been feeling lately. Alone, unloved, just there to be a fucktoy for Nat and nothing else. Nat promises her they’ll get help and they’ll fix their relationship, that she’ll try harder and make an effort. Thank you so much :) xx”

Word Count: 1942

Your fist connected with the bag in front of you. It felt good to release the tension that had been building from everything. Fury was on your ass lately about your mission reports. Steve was on your ass about slacking in your training. And you had been stressed by Natasha’s lack of communication.

You and Natasha had been together for several years, since you’d joined the Avengers, just before the fall of SHIELD. You knew what you wanted, and it was forever with her. The topic of marriage was one the both of you danced around. Last time you had brought it up, she brushed it off. You knew you could live without getting married, but it was something you wanted with her and something you’d wanted for some time. You wanted to be on the same page, to know if it was something to put on the shelf. You’d be okay if it wasn’t something she wanted, you just needed to know and an answer was never given. 

“What’d that bag ever do to you Rose?” Sam asked. You jumped a little before looking over to where he was leaning against the wall. You hadn’t seen him come in.

“Everything, Jack,” you joked. It had been a running joke between you and Sam since a mission gone wrong on the water that evoked the infamous scene from Titanic. You both fit on the door. 

“What’s really wrong?” he asked. You sighed. Sam could read you better than anyone, barring Natasha. It was why you two were frequently partners on mission. You worked well together, seamlessly moving from one mission to the next. 

“It’s relationship woes. We had a...disagreement before she left on her mission. I brought up the big M again,” you explained, moving to sit on the bench as you grabbed your bottle of water. Sam sat down beside you. 

“Eventually you two do need to have that discussion. Is that all that’s bothering you?” he asked.

“I feel like she’s pulling away. You know how my last relationship went,” you told him. He let out a light laugh before speaking.

“Your ex was a piece of work. I know you. And I know Natasha. Natasha is the furthest thing from your ex. Have you told her how you feel?” he asked. You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment. You hadn’t brought it up. You weren’t sure how. You didn’t want to appear clingy. It was one of your fears when it came to voicing your feelings. 

“To paraphrase Jersey Shore, I don’t want to appear like a stage five clinger,” you grumbled. You glared as Sam doubled over with laughter.

“I thought you hated that show,” he said when he caught his breath. You looked anywhere but at him. You hoped Bucky wouldn’t murder you for what you were going to say.

“I’ve been binging it with Barnes and Rogers when we have free time,” you admitted. At that, Sam had completely fallen off the bench laughing. You shook your head at your best friend. If that was the price you had to pay to end the conversation on your relationship issues, you’d pay it. Even if it meant facing the wrath of Bucky for letting Sam know that bit of information. 

You both left the gym, headed for the living room. You knew Natasha was due back that day and that she was bringing Yelena with her. Yelena had met up with Natasha and Bucky on the mission. You liked Yelena, when she’d come around. She had her own room at the compound, but wasn’t formally an Avenger. She liked the freedom to come and go as she pleased. Tony was more than happy to offer her a place to stay. 

You were in the middle of watching a rerun of The Nanny with Sam and Steve when the trio arrived. The three of you had just placed the pizza order, knowing the others would be in and out. You stood up and walked to Natasha, who placed a gentle kiss on your lips. 

“I’m going to go shower before dinner gets here. Save my seat for me?” she asked.

“Always,” you replied. Bucky and Yelena both took their leave as well, all three of them in need of a shower after their debrief with Fury and Hill. You saw the look Sam gave you and just shook your head. Natasha was most affectionate after a mission. But by the end of the evening she’d be shrugging you off. It was a cycle that you had grown used to. You weren’t sure when things had changed. 

Dinner arrived along with a freshly showered Natasha who sat down beside you, one hand on your thigh, itching for the contact. But you knew by the time dinner was done, Natasha would no longer be beside you. That she would come to bed after she was sure you were asleep. Unless she wanted to relieve tension. You felt more like her personal fucktoy than her girlfriend some days. A body to warm her bed and get her off. There were no bedtime conversations. There was no cuddling. No moments that belonged to just the two of you that didn’t involve sex. You hated it. 

You stood and stretched some time after you finished dinner. You felt Natasha’s eyes on you. You knew it wouldn’t be long before she followed you to the room the two of you shared. For once, you were going to turn her down. You set about your nightly routine, taking a quick shower and brushing your teeth before pulling on pajama pants and a tank top. You weren’t surprised to see Natasha lounging on the bed when you entered the room. 

“I missed you baby,” she murmured as you sat on the bed. She knelt behind you, bringing one hand around to trail up your stomach to your breast. You rebuffed her attempt.

“Not tonight, Nat. I don’t think dinner sat well,” you lied. You heard her huff and bit your lip in an attempt to hold the tears at bay. You heard her get under the covers and wondered where things had started to go wrong before getting under the covers yourself, your back turned to her. 

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

The next morning, Yelena was joining the two of you for breakfast in your room. Room was an understatement. Each Avenger had their own kitchenette and living space with a separate bedroom. It was really like a small apartment. Most times though, the team could be found in the common spaces unless they wanted time to themselves or they were off compound on missions or visiting friends and family. 

You were making pancakes. Yelena had volunteered to help. Nat had left on her morning run and had only mentioned that Yelena was coming over before she left. You felt at ease with the blonde. You doubled over in laughter as she smudged flour on your face after saying you had a spot of flour on your nose. Neither of you had heard Natasha come in until you heard the thud of her water bottle on the counter, startling you.

“Sorry, am I interrupting something?” she asked, glaring at Yelena. 

“We were just making breakfast, Nat. It’ll be done soon. Why don’t you go grab a shower?” you said to her. With one last glare, Nat stalked from the room angrily. You sighed.

“She loves you, you know,” Yelena said softly. 

“Sure doesn’t feel like it sometimes,” you muttered. You set about setting the table, pouring coffee for Natasha, made just like she liked it. Breakfast was tense. Yelena threw a couple flirty comments before Natasha’s glare made her stop. She knew when to stop. The tension ramped up throughout breakfast, even as Yelena engaged Natasha in conversation. After breakfast, Yelena excused herself when she sensed the tension had only grown, making an excuse about having promised Wanda she would spar with her. You steeled yourself for the fight that was brewing. 

“Seems like you and Yelena are getting on just fine,” Natasha said, her tone even and her eyes cold. You scoffed.

“Yes, Natasha. We are. I figured you’d want your sister and I to get along,” you replied as you began picking up the dishes to bring into the kitchen. 

“I didn’t mean flirt with her! I know that look,” Natasha said. 

“It was harmless,” you told her. 

“Was it? Because it seems to me that you want to be anywhere except with me these days,” Natasha argued. You laughed. Truly laughed. 

“Oh that’s just rich coming from you. Natasha we rarely share a bed anymore. When we do, it’s a quick fuck. It’s like that’s all I’m good for anymore. Being a warm body,” you cried. Natasha paused. Surely that couldn’t be true. She tried to think about the last time the two of you had gone on a date. The last time you two of you just spent time together. She was drawing a blank. 

“I’ve been busy,” she said weakly. She knew it was a poor excuse. You’d been busy too. But you always made time to see her. And she would just brush you off. Natasha wasn’t so sure she could salvage the situation. She had never been on the receiving end of the disappointed look on your face. She didn’t like it. 

“What are we Natasha? Anytime I bring up marriage you skirt the subject. Say not now. Later. When is later, Natasha?” you asked. You wanted answers. You knew this was going to be a make or break conversation for your relationship. You hoped it wouldn’t be a break. You weren’t sure you could handle losing her, not like this. 

“You know how I feel about marriage,” Natasha replied. 

“Do I? You always deflect,” you said, your voice lowering. You knew the pair of you were on a collision course with the point of no return. You were desperate to reign in your tempers before that point. 

“You want to marry me? After everything I’ve done, everything you know about me?” she asked. Her voice betrayed a vulnerable side of Natasha you had never seen. A softness you had never heard in her voice before. 

“Of course I want to marry you! I want to shout from the rooftops that Natasha Romanoff is mine! My wife, my love. But that doesn’t matter, Nat. As long as I have you, I’m happy. Married or not married, as long as you're mine,” you argued. The two of you stood for a moment, looking at one another. You wanted nothing more in that moment than to feel her arms wrapped around you. She stepped toward you, gently taking the dishes from your hands and placing them on the table beside you before bringing one hand up to cup your face.

“There is one thing I know for certain in this life. I don’t want to live it without you by my side. I haven’t been fair to you lately. I shut down instead of talking to you and it took until now for me to realize how close I’ve come to losing you,” she whispered, her voice breaking. You took her other hand in yours, squeezing it gently. 

“Then we’ll talk to someone. Because Nat. I don’t want to lose you either,” you replied. You weren’t sure how long the two of you stood there, embracing one another in a way you hadn’t in so long. There were still discussions to be had. But they could wait. For now, you took comfort in one another, knowing that come tomorrow the real work would begin. 

[katsukikitten]

Part one, no real warnings yet. Enjoy!

Bakugou's personal phone rings from the pocket of his hero costume for the umpteenth causing his skin to pop. All the while Kirishima allows his ruby gaze to fall over the hot head, having a good guess about just who is blowing up his phone. Worry snatches at Kirishima's heart for a moment forcing the question from his lips, even if it meant regretting it. 

"Are you sure your mom is okay?" Bakugou freezes in his step, inclining his head to fix a garnet glare at his so called friend. He sucks in a breath to yell, body tense and in a fighting stance before his phone blares again.

"FUCK!" He shouts into the night with only Kirishima and the moon to hear. The trees swallow his frustration as he rips his phone from his pocket, answering it so harshly the LCD beneath the screen ruptures. 

"What?! What the fuck do you want you God Damn hag?! I'm WORKING! Saving LIVES!" It had been a long time since he had called his mother hag, long enough there was silence on the other line for a moment. 

Then much like her son she takes a deep breath and now Kirishima, the moon and the trees know why Mitsuki was calling at such a late hour. Kirishima sighs with relief nothing is so dire as life and death, although for Mitsuki it is. 

"IF YOU DON'T BRING THIS GHOST OF A GIRLFRIEND OF YOURS I SWEAR TO KAMISAMI THERE WILL BE NO MORE NUMBER ONE HERO WHEN IM THROUGH WITH YOU. IM GETTING OLD I NEED FUCKING GRANDKIDS. THINK OF YOUR SWEET OLD FATHER HE AIN'T GETTING ANY FUCKING YOUNGER!" 

"That's what this was about?! Ma for the last fucking time I don't-" 

"You don't what? One of those hoes you sleep with has to like even your rude ass. Bring a decent one home." And with that Bakugou is left with the sound of three tones and a ringing in his ear. He grips the bridge of his nose, having no earthly idea of how to get his mother off of his back, let alone find a woman. The phone rings in his hand again, the screen filled with dead pixels and rainbow lines causing him hot to be able to see. Somehow it registers his touch as he goes from memory to answer. 

"What you fucking hag?!" He screams into the receiver. 

"Wow. Rude." You reply with a bite, "Just calling to tell you boss that I'm clocking out, dickhead." 

"I-I thought you were my mom." 

"Oh and that makes it better?" What an ass! 

"Fuck you." He growls, looking at Kirishima's watch, "You're clocking out way too early." 

"No, fuck you. I requested to be off by this time MONTHS ago. You can ask Eijirou-san, you approved it so he made the schedule accordingly." You quip, twirling one of your knives in your hands, "Besides I've been working waaay too long today. Oh and I found that perp hours ago." 

"What the fuck?! Why didn't you tell me hours ago?" 

"I fucking tried, you ignored my call. This was my third attempt." You slam the knife through the paperwork on your desk wishing it were the hot head's thigh. You rise as your eyes glance over the clock. If you didn't hurry this stupid phone call up, you were going to be late. You needed to sneak in before midnight. 

"Still too early for you. Normally you want the OT." He bites, causing you to roll your eyes. 

Gods you hated this guy. 

"Yea, well tonight is different." You'd pay in the long run for leaving so soon but tonight was special. She asked you to be there the last time you saw her and you promised. 

You never break a fucking promise. 

"Some subordinate you are bitch face." He growls then an idea pops into his head. 

Subordinate. 

As in you reported to him, as in Bakugou Katsuki was your boss. And well you had to listen to your boss to some extent and he knew you needed money, you tell him day in and day out it's the only  reason you would even dream to work with him. 

Although he has no idea why you are so hard out for cash. 

So he sets the bait, offering you a deal you can't refuse. 

"Tomorrow is your planned day off right?" 

"Yea what fucking of it?!" 

"I've got a special mission for you-" 

"No." You interrupt, already feeling the exhaustion of your seventy hour work week stacking up. 

"You didn't even let me finish you ungrateful brat. It will be three times your pay for half a day's work. Cold hard cash." The other side of the line goes silent. Licking your lips you think over his offer, fuck, that would actually help get your head above water. 

The light at the end of the tunnel. 

If only you knew how dark this tunnel was going to be. 

"Fine. I'll take your stupid fucking offer." 

"Promise?" His voice sounds a bit different, a little bit of a tease to it, as if he knows something you don't. 

"What are we in kindergarten. Yea I promise, fucking headass." With that you hang up, rushing down the steps of the agency building and into the cold air. 

Your phone buzzes with a text 

BakaBoss: Meet me at the agency, 11am sharp.

You roll your eyes, turning your phone to silent as you watch the nightly set of nurses do their normal routine. Barely making it in time for the security guard and head nurse to make their way outside by the one way back door for a smoke. Both too lazy to walk around to the front of the hospital, sticking a thin splintering wood block between the jam and the door, giving you easy access to the stairwell. When they were far enough away you slip into the door, sure to place the wood where they left it before climbing the stairs two at a time, racing the clock at the top half of the 11th hour. The janitor would have already mopped her floor and the only nurse on floor six was currently on the ground level half way through the small tobacco stick, she wouldn't be sticking her head into room 609 anytime soon. 

You draw in a deep breath, collecting yourself and forcing back the tears as you picked the lock, a skill set that not only were you amazing at but the very same skill that landed you here. 

And by here you mean stupid ass hero work all thanks to some "reforming" program by Izuku Miydoria. Still it was better than having to break out of jail in order to make cash, her bills weren't going to pay themself. 

You stick a stolen credit card in between the door jab and the door, right at the locking mechanism, although you could break out of just about anywhere, this would be the faster method of escape. 

"Hey, sis, I made it!" You say softly but with excitement, watching as she keeps her back to you. Her eyes wide from a mixed cocktail of chemicals and trauma, she stares out into the sky, counting the stars. 

It would be one of those nights where she was too warped to tell you were there. With a sigh you sink onto her mattress. If you could even fucking call it that. It was more like a box spring with a fitted sheet over top of it, you were still figuring out how you could sneak a mattress in. 

"I got you something." You say crawling to sit next to her cross legged, she turns to you and it's like looking in a mirror. Except one of you is covered in visible scars and the other is not. Hers are more than skin deep. Seeing her dull gaze never gets any easier, she stares through you for a long time before she does as she always does. 

Lifting her hand gently to cup your cheek so her thumb can slide over your scar. 

"How'd you get this?" Her voice is barely hers and it grabs a fist full of your guts pulling them downward. Everytime she asks that question you see the shine of a blade, a swipe of a strong hand and vision filled with blood.

Yours, there's but never hers. You like to tell yourself that's what counts but maybe you had a hand in breaking her. 

You clear your throat, pulling a bag onto your lap. 

"Nevermind that." You gently guide her hand away from your cheek and to her lap. When she makes no motion for the gift bag you force a smile as icy guilt collects in your chest. 

"It's for our birthday silly! Can you believe we are 26 today?" You place the pillow on her lap and her hands slowly go to the plush material. 

For a moment she has returned, flashing you a smile as she pushing into the soft material before she flickers out again. Like a light with just enough current to wink in and out of existence. 

Time passes and the clock strikes midnight, white clad shoes stomp against the polished floor signaling it was time to leave. 

"I'll try to see you soon okay?" You lean over kissing her hairline before grabbing at the old, flat pillow. Shoving it into the gift bag as you silently bound the room. Pushing the door open slightly as you slip the stolen card into the back pocket of your black jeans.  With that you are down the hall and through the backdoor without raising any sort of alarm as usual. 

Suddenly your phone weighs heavy in your pocket as you think of what kind of stupid errand that asshole was going to put you on. The stolen card sings in your pocket, begging to be used. So you slip into a bar to give it a good use. 

&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

A blaring alarm yanks you from the bed in a sweating panic. Knife instinctively slashing the air before you send the blade into yet another digital alarm clock. Falling back into the mattress for just a moment's peace.

That peace doesn't last long once you show up at the agency. If anything is sours as you see Bakugou leaning against the bright white brick and in civilian clothes no less. 

"What's this?" You pick at his black dress shirt, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showcasing his banded forearms.  He's paired it with a pair of black jeans, one knee ripped. Oddly it looks good together. Not overly dressed nor too dressed down. His vermilion eyes glide over your figure in your black body con hero suit. He sucks his teeth, hating this next part. 

"Called clothes dumbass. Speaking of we need to get you something fitting."

"For what? What exactly is this 'mission'?" 

"I'll debrief you later. Right now we need to get you new clothes." You laugh in his face before your rich expression turns deadly 

"With what money?" 

"Calm down, it's my treat Princess." He says with satire, the name sits odd on his tongue and even more odd in your stomach. He snatches at your wrist, "Come on before the stores get crowded and we get noticed." 

You find yourself in a shop filled with dresses and fancy blouses. All of which you hate. Bakugou seems to hate them too, too guady for his taste. Still he shifts through the soft silks because he knows his mother will love it. 

"Oi, you can't find a single decent thing here? I thought women loved shopping." 

"Yea for shit we like asshole." You hiss to him, having only found a pair of dark blue jean's. 

"Heh." He scoffs, rolling his eyes until he finds the perfect top. It looks decent and it could be your style. The one thing he learned about being undercover was to not stray too far from what looked natural or from the truth. 

"Put this on. While I find a necklace." He shoves the silky top into your hands and you look at the price tag. Suddenly anxiety burns in the soles of your feet soaring up to close your throat. 

"Bakugou. This is too much." Katsuki stops to glance over his shoulder, this is the first time you've used his name since he hired you three years ago. He sees your hand gripping at your bicep and he watches the rare tell sign that you're nervous as you chew on one of the scars that creeps onto your lip. He comes up to you, closer than he ever has been before, your senses flood with spiced caramel. 

"Oi." His voice is smooth, almost soft as he touches a ringed index finger to your forearm. You fixate on the shining black ring and your old habits have you thinking of six different ways to get it off of his finger. The thought soothes you as much as his voice surprisingly does. 

"I said I'm buying, remember you brat?" The teasing returns back to his voice before it turns gruff, "Now go change to make sure I like it. I'll be back in a second." 

A woman unlocks a small dressing room for you and once inside you hold your breath. Counting as you remind yourself that you cannot and will not steal anything of value while your boss was here. 

If you were any other person you would tap this Prohero's account dry, really rack up that platinum card you know sat in his wallet and sell the clothes marked up for a profit later. 

But even as much as you hated Bakugou, you couldn't bring yourself to do it. 

Instead you slip into the the outfit adjusting yourself this way in that as the neckline says enough without saying too much. The jeans curving against your figure in such a way doing as good as a job as your hero suit. You keep your steel toed boots as you step into the small hall with the three mirrors. As you turn this way and that Bakugou appears behind you, almost earning a knife to his gut. He forces the silver blade away before pulling out a necklace from a bag he just bought.  The gold chain is dainty, going through the top of the garnet making it seen as if it were a suspended droplet of blood. 

It marches the eyes that roll over you as he takes a step back before his harsh mouth breathes out a word. 

"Fuck."

Instantly it kills your mood as your lip pulls back over sharp teeth.

"Tsk. It's not that bad, God how do you get any pussy." You grumble, smoothing down the black blouse. 

"No, dumbass. You look...you look perfect." He stares into your eyes through the mirror, his smile growing wider as they wander over your scars and finally land onto that minimalistic drop pendant necklace. 

Over something you've never been able to have, something you always had to swipe from an unsuspecting neck and then pawn. 

"Now. I'm going to tell you here, in this store of crowded people so you don't cause a scene." 

"What?!" Anger already begins to bubble in your blood. The blades that kiss your flesh start to scream for relief. 

"From now on you have to pretend to be my girlfriend. Paparazzi are starting to swarm outside of this fucking boutique and my mom follows this particular trash tabloid since they love to use me as click bait. You just have to make it through dinner tonight and if shit goes south I'll pay you even more." 

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Saved

Summary- 2.6k Bucky x You. Based on a ASK from anon-Hella Bi Bitch. Hydra tramautized you and you go to Bucky for comfort. Angst/Fluff. Also written for @jtargaryen18​ 4k Challenge. 

“Sweetheart. They are not coming.” Brock leered over your face, his hot breath washing over you, and it was almost impossible to miss the leer in his brown eyes as he cupped your face. If you had the capabilities, you would jerk away, but you were strapped down. All over, even your head was strapped flush to the hard metal table. The only thing you would do that would be satisfactory was work your mouth, draw up that last bit of spittle you had left and spat at him, making him curse while jerking back. 

It would be worth the pain he would cause next, knowing that at least he couldn't break you, just tie you down. Captain would be here soon, Iron Man, Natasha, Bucky… someone, someone would come for you. 

Brock retaliated by slamming an open palm across your face, biting back a cry, a burst of blood interrupted from your nose, racing down your face. 

As parched as you were, you welcomed the hot iron taste swarming your mouth, even through the pain. 

“Rumlow! You will step away from the girl. We need her.” 

Dread filled you as his face went from rage, to a cold smirk, pulling away from you. “Don't worry sweetheart, once they are done breaking you, you and I are going to do great things.” 

Your eyes flickered to the Hydra Agent, laying out his supplies, tools of pain and vials of poison to flood your system. Nauseated, you looked back up to the ceiling, and squeezed your eyes shut, clamping your mouth shut. Tears welled up, you would probably be gone, dead before the team would find you. It was what you hoped for now. 

You would rather die then let them turn you evil. Wasn't there a saying? You either die a hero or turn into a villian. You prayed, prayed for death instead. 

A year you were tested on, preyed on until you became a shell. Moved from base to base, handled by various people. None had a shred of kindness, and Brock especially took joy in your torture. 

He was able to use the various instruments, had access to your cell whenever he wanted. Your personal bodyguard, your personal hell. In these times you sink away from yourself, your body started to work on their command, your mind an empty shell of your former self. Intelligent? Yes, but yourself, no. 

It wasn't complete yet, there was still a shred of you left. Holding on, barely. 

Your rescue happened one sunny afternoon, but you weren't to ever know this. You were deep underground, away from air and light. They had just dumped you in your cell when there coms went off. To weak to pay attention to the Hydra agents fear as they hurriedly locked you in, you crawled to your cot and folded yourself onto it. Another day of survived hell. Squeezing your eyes shut, you really just wished for it to end. At this point in any manner. So much pain. To much.

Alone for a while, you start to drift off into nothingness when metal on metal jolted you awake with a terrified whimper. You heard the clang on your bars and lifted your head up to see Bucky trying to see who was curled up on the cot. 

“B-b-bucky?” You eased up slowly to make sure you weren't seeing things, and then right next to him Steve stepped up, flipping his shield to hang on his back. 

“Doll, we finally found you.” Bucky exclaimed with relief, grasping the bars and wrenching them as hard as he could, the metal whining in protest, but it wasn't strong enough to hold him back from what he wanted. 

Steve kept a watch of Bucky's six, speaking into the com at his ear. “We got her, Bucky is collecting Y/N now, have the jet ready Clint. Nat, you just about done? Sam, cover us when we come up."

“Five more seconds and data is secure, Tony can blow this hell hole to dust.” 

Bucky's arm went around you for support as you went to stand, sore from earlier, he saw you hobble forward and he swept you up. 

“Just faster this way Doll, come on Steve. Before Stark gets trigger happy.” Bolting for the nearest set of stairs, everything became a blur as Bucky and Steve bolted from the building. Hiding your face in Buckys shoulder, you never did see that sunny afternoon. 

A shadow passed over Bucky and Steve bolting across the ground, and when you glanced up, lifting your head off Buckys shoulder, the flash of red and silver covered out the blue sky above, and you smiled to yourself, between Sam, Steve and Bucky, you were safe. Exhaustion dipped your head back to Buckys shoulder.

It wasn't long till you were back at Stark Towers, which hadn't been your home in a year. Bucky carried you down into the medic bay with Sam close by. The rest of the team went to debrief on the mission, knowing you were taken cared of. Bucky easily set you down on the table, hovering nearby, he seemed hesitant to leave you, you who were so quiet, so shut down. Sam hovered close by, his jaw clenched. Quiet at well. Not knowing what to say or do, You just stared at the floor till Bruce came in. 

“Give us some privacy Bucky? I need to give her a full examination.” Bruce said softly, and your eyes welled up with tears, hiding away from them both. Bucky shook his head in refusal. “I'm not leaving her alone.” 

“Okay, but on the other side of the curtain, if Y/N needs you, she will call you.” Bruce looked over at you to confirm that was okay, and you nodded, still unable to look at any of them. Your shame and fear pounding at you. Sam clasped Buckys forearm, nodding his head to the door. "We will just be on the other side." When Bucky stepped on the other side, you could see the worried look flashing across his face, somewhat in recgonition to your pain. Sam gave you a slight nod, and a smile of encouragement.

Why couldnt you be stronger? 

The start of your recovery was rough, locked in your room a lot. It took some time for you to open back up to the team. Bring a sense of normalcy to you again. Your normal for the past year has been to be tortured. Everyday life was a lot. Things so simple, like going to get a glass of water, took all your willpower to do. The team, they did everything they could to make it easier.  Natasha and Clint immediately made you a part of their movie nights. At first you would sit stiffly away from them, not wanting to be touched by anyone. But soon you loosened up. Curling up against Clint while his arm draped over you, your feet in Natasha’s lap while she painted your nails. “How are the nightmares Y/N?” Natasha would ask, and you could feel Clint tighten his arm around you slightly, listening. It was no secret, your nightmares were a nightly occurrence, often waking up screaming and trying to hide somewhere in the room. 

“They are fine, fewer and fewer every day.” You lied, covering your shame. 

Steve, you often went with Steve out for walks where he would find some subject to draw. You would lay in the sun, while your friend sketched away at some piece of nearby building, sometimes a landscape. Once he even did you while you were sitting a bit away, catching your profile watching the clouds above. Often you two would sit in easy silence, not needing to have long intense conversations, you were just happy to be with your friend. Once in a while you would ask him. “Steve, you think I can join the team soon?” 

The blonde man would hum, and his blue eyes would shift over towards you a moment before going back to his paper. “Y/N, don't rush it. You were there for a year. I'm not putting you in the field before you're ready. Here, what do you think?” He would flip his pad around and of course it was his way of saying, No. Not Now. Maybe not ever.

Sam often had you over to his apartment to help with meals. You figured it was to make sure you were eating properly. At least one square meal. When you asked him, he scoffed. "Actually taking these cooking classes, I make enough for two. Lets face it, your better company then I could ask for. Besides Steve and Bucky are not adventurous like you. They wanna boil everything." Sam snorted, stiring his jambalaya. "Chop this up." He said quickly, handing you a knife. You always felt safer with something, Sam noticed this the first time you joined him, and you flinched when he drew out a butchers blade. From then on, you were set on chopping duties. You began to really look forward to cooking nights with Sam.

"No girlfriends to have cooking dates with?" You would tease when you set to chopping and Sam would give you that grin of his.

"Sure, I just test them on you first Precious. Gotts make sure they are decent enough to feed to others."

"Yea, I'm real Precious if your using me as a gineau pig." You stick your tongue out st your friend, but secretly you don't mind.

Tony, he was more energetic. Often you would be sitting down in his workshop, laughing at his attempts to improve the Ironman suit. It became a habit to keep a fire extinguisher nearby. “Tony, I don't think you should try this.” You said warily as he put on his new thruster boots. “Aww come on, what's the worst that can happen?” He grinned, and winked. 

He ended up shooting around the room like a balloon just untied, crashing into walls and bouncing off the floor. When he finally came to a stop, his feet were on fire. 

Jumping down with the extinguisher, you yelled “Tony!” and covered him with the foam, once it ended and the billionaire blinked it away, swiping the foam off his face. 

“I had it under control Y/N.” 

“Sure you did.” You squirted him one last time to retaliate before putting it away, and holding your hand out to him, helping him up. 

“Payback Y/N, payback.” Tony glared before pulling you into a hug, getting you covered to. At first it was fine, until you didnt feel Tony anymore and you struggled. Tony immediately let go, and you covered your face in shame. “Im sorry, I'm so sorry Tony.” He shook his head and gently grasped your wrist just enough to uncover your face. “Y/N, it's okay to feel like that. I should have asked first.” You gave an apologetic smile and he winked. The good thing with Tony was that he moved on from your attacks like they never happened, and for that you were forever grateful to your friend.

Bucky, he was the only one that you would find wandering late at night, like you were. When everyone else was fast asleep, you would be pacing the tower, afraid of sleep. It would happen, eventually. Your body would give into its demands, and you would go under into your nightmares. But until that happened though, you found ways to distract yourself. Sometimes it was video games on mute, you would bake muffins for the teams breakfast, get lost in Tony's library he allowed you access to. It was in these wanderings you found Bucky, bumping into him in random places. 

Eventually you two started to really get to know each other. Your late nights would be spent together. You opened up more and more, talking about what Hydra and Brock did to you during that year, Bucky making similar confessions while you two sat outside, away from the confines of the building. Quite a few times you both watched the sun start to come up far off to the east, and Bucky's arm would settle over you while your head tipped onto his shoulder. 

“Buck, I don't know if I will ever just be okay. Steve doesn't seem to think so.” 

“Doll, I came back from it.” He simply said, and you looked up at him, giving a half smile. 

“Your stronger than me.” 

His brow arched as he looked down at you. “That's not true. I had help, Steve, Shuri. I could have never done it alone. Why I know you will come back from this. Your not alone.” 

It gave you something to think about the rest of that day. 

You were so tired after two days going, you couldn't help but pass out, exhausted. You fell into bed in your sleep shorts and a tank, curling up while the world faded away. 

The nightmares though, flashbacks of all those times you were helpless, unable to fight back and could do nothing more than hold back your screams. It never helped, they still fell from you till you were horse from it, rolling from your bed as visions of various doctors plagued you, Hydra Agents beating on you, and Brock he was always in the darkness, watching with anticipation. When he would finally step from the shadows, you knew it wasn't just a nightmare anymore. It was hell. It was what sent you hiding while you were still sleeping. 

This night the jarring motion falling from your bed woke you, before Brock could get to you. Covering your head, you sobbed into your knees, so completely at a loss of how to fix yourself. Your shoulders shook, and you huddled there on the floor for a moment till your legs and back started to ache from being hunched over. Sniffling, you grasp the side of your bed and pull yourself to sit on the edge, wiping the tears from your face. The room felt cold. Reminiscent of your time with Hydra. No warmth, dark shadows stretching like they were reaching to claim you, in which you withdraw your feet off the floor, trying to talk yourself through what you felt was another oncoming panic attack. You had to get out of there, there was no way you could sleep in here tonight. 

Grabbing a blanket and wrapping it around your shoulders, you edge around your bed, trying not to let yourself get psyched out that Brock might be hiding in your room, he wasn't. He couldn't. It was impossible to break into Stark Towers, right? Into the living room you went, looking over your shoulder at what was your bedroom. Even your couch felt too close to the memories. 

It wasn't even a thought, you eased into the hallway and started down familiar doors. Steve, Natasha, Wanda… when you paused in front of one. It had no special markings, nothing to signify to any other that it was a special door, but for you it was. Hesitating for a second, you reached out and gave a quick rap of the knuckles, waiting. 

Bucky heard it, that quick knock knock. He never slept deeply, always aware of his surroundings, years of training and his own deep rooted fears that something was going to happen. When he opened his door to you, the blanket you had on you just about swallowed you, and your face peeked out, red rimmed eyes and ruddy cheeks. He knew you had been crying, were about to start crying as you were standing there. Bucky stepped back to let you in. 

“Sorry Bucky, I just… don't want to be in my apartment tonight.” Your head dropped as you stepped in, and he softly shut the door behind you. 

Standing there for a moment, you didn't know where to go from there, and he stepped in closer, encircling his arms around your cocooned blanket and you could feel the rush of a sob squeaking from you, pressing in against his t shirt. Bucky tucked you in close, feeling his own eyes prick with tears feeling you break in his arms, your shoulders shaking and even the blanket couldn't seem to keep you feeling safe now. But his arms did. They were strong and hard, encircling you. “Come on Doll, your exhausted I can feel it.” 

You didn't struggle as he led you down the small hallway to the back bedrooms, and  expected him to put you in a guest room that you knew all these apartments had. But he didn't. 

He brought you right into his room, and sat you on the edge of his bed. 

“Are you okay unwrapping from this?” He questioned, his hands resting on the blanket where you clutched it around you like a protective shield. You sniffled and dried your face on it momentarily before nodding, letting your grip go. He eased it off, and folded it. Resting at the end should you want it back. 

“Give me two seconds Doll.” He disappeared into his closet and with the door half shut, pulled on a pair of sweats over his boxers, and switched out his tear wet shirt for a dry one. When he came back out, you were right where he left you, feet dangling over the edge of the bed, and your fingers clasped in your lap. When he came around and stretched out, half propped up on pillows, you looked over your shoulder at him. “Can you leave the light on Buck? Just a little bit?” 

“Of course Y/N. '' Reaching to the lamp, he turned it on a softer setting and saw you visibly relax your shoulders as you looked around, and could still see all the corners of the room. Pushing back to get in the bed, you tucked yourself in against your friend's side, letting your head fall to his shoulder. 

“They must have been pretty bad this time.” Bucky said as he lifted a blanket over the two of you, and you nodded. “I kept seeing Him in the dark, coming for me.” Bucky was well aware who you were talking about, having shared with him before some that had happened to you. You lifted Bucky's arm and placed it around your shoulder, his palm pressing against your arm and tucking you in closer, dropping the softest of kisses on top of your head. “Even when I was awake, it was like he was just out of sight, waiting for me to drop my guard.” 

“We won't let him get to you Doll, not again.” 

There was a soft shuffle of blankets as you got comfier against him, and your arm locked around his middle, your voice muffled against his shirt. 

“I know Buck, that's why I came to you.” 

[kojinnie]

Maybe, One Day, We Will | Jean, Sasha & Connie

Summary: Before the defining Raid of Liberio mission, the Survey Corps was instructed to write their wills, and Connie reminisced the night he talked about life after the war with Jean and Sasha when they were younger.

Tags: Canon universe, coming-of-age, light angst, bittersweet.

Set: The night before Battle of Shiganshina District, parallel to Eren-Mikasa-Armin’s talk on the steps.

WC: 3.1K

A/N:  My tribute to the trio that holds a special place in my heart. Consider this my ode to all of us whose heart has been broken by Chapter 138. A slight nod to conversation in Chapter 137 (No spoiler, don’t worry!)

I suppose memory wore off eventually, and if I’d be lucky enough to survive this contemptible war, my only hope is one thing: to never lose the gift of memory over moments I hold dear in my heart. Especially the memory of that one night. The night before Shiganshina.

Connie Springer put down his quill as he marked the end of a sentence. He was quite surprised with how far bolder was this paragraph compared to its precedents, he smiled and remembered one of the things his mum said when he was younger, something about how one’s action is nothing but a mere reflection of one’s feeling, and perhaps Connie took the importance of that paragraph over the others and that’s why he put so much pressure on his quill upon writing that down.

He looked over his shoulder to catch Jean pondering over his paper across the room, looking visibly puzzled on what to write, “Oi Jean, you finished?”

He shook his head, grunting, “This feels so absurd.” The tall man leaned to his desk and dragged his gaze upwards, “To be so young and writing your own will.”

Connie hummed from his desk, affirming Jean’s dismay. The whole predicament the two men find themselves in were indeed absurd, albeit predictable. They both knew that to be immersed in the eyes of war mean bruising with deaths countless times, but with the war advancing at unprecedented rate, the notion of mortality grew even more palpable before the soldiers’ eyes. It was no surprise that at one night after a debriefing with the high-ranking officials, Hange finally caught up with the prospect of dying. The first time they had ever been so sure of death, regardless whether it would be immediate or later in this godforsaken war. The thought led Hange to saying before the rest of the Survey Corps, “Maybe we all should write our wills. To leave something behind, you know? Just in case.” Everyone remembered how the Commander threw a reassuring smile amidst such vivid qualm among them, “What could be more fulfilling than to have our stories and legacy passed down?”

And so there they were that night, all of the Survey Corps, taking their night off to write their will before the D-Day tomorrow: The Ambush of Liberio.

“Jean,” Connie called again. There was only the two of them in the common room, the rest were scattered all over Mitras. Taking their own space to write their own piece of mind before the mission, “do you remember the night before Shiganshina?”

The sounds of scribbling ceased immediately from Jean’s end, as he sighed, almost painfully, “Yeah, of course.” Jean found it eerie that there was a misplaced lightness in Connie’s voice, when his own was drowned in unspoken distress, “What about it?”

“I’m writing about it on my…” there was a hesitation in Connie’s words as his mind finally caught up with how unbecoming his reality was, “…will.”

The man of Ragako continued, “I hope after we’re gone, whoever reads this would know that we were once kids,” Connie’s voice dropped into a heavy murmur, “that had something to live for, yeah?”

Jean nodded his head as he forced a smile, although Connie wouldn’t be able to see as they were sitting opposite each other, “Sounds great. Something to prove that I’m not a suicidal maniac. Do you think Sasha is now writing about it too?”

“Perhaps.”

“Then I’ll write about it too.”

             The noise from the dining hall finally subsided after the soldiers headed back to their quarter. Despite having tonight’s tasty feast and the raucous fun that most of these soldiers were not as privileged to have often, the lingering dread remained visible among them for what awaited them tomorrow. These men and women were to head for battle against creatures they barely understood, and to reclaimed the district that most thought to be unsalvageable with the horde of titans roaming freely within.

There were also murmurs about a menacingly gigantic beast titan, one that had took the handful lives of their comrades. One that had mystical power to summon and control titans all it pleased. One that was so frightening that the brass in the likes of Erwin Smith and Levi Ackerman were not at ease to disclose to the rest of the soldiers, leaving them in the dark of what may happen. The murmurs about the beast titan were persistent and these soldiers, no matter how hardened had they grown by deaths and battles all their lives, were all equally afraid.

Among them were three teenagers, barely made it out alive after their last encounter with the seemingly mythical creature. Now bound for yet another mission, they scrambled out of the dining hall. The tallest among them was slightly limping, leaning for support from the two others.

“Guys—” Jean grunted, followed by a disgraceful whimper as another step sent a sharp sting to his stomach, “—thanks for the help but would appreciate if it came sooner.”

They stopped and finally sat around when they found a comfortable spot underneath a building’s canopy, looking over to the city steps that glimmered underneath the full moon’s lights. From afar, they could see Eren, Mikasa and Armin sitting together down the steps, although the Shiganshina trio weren’t aware of their presence.

Jean finally let out an audible groan as he sat on a deserted wooden crate, the two others found comfort on the cold cobblestone.

“As you know, I was in no position to do so.” Sasha shot a jeer at Connie, to which he replied with a remorseful grin, “Sorry Sash, you were acting crazy—”

“—BUT IT’S MEAT! How could you take away my happiness like that, Connie!” the shriek was lunatic indeed and the bald boy just cackled, mouthing yet another apology for tying her up to the pole earlier tonight. Sasha was not amused, obviously, but she eventually caved in as she let out a long, deep sigh, retreating her head to Connie’s shoulder, “Could’ve been my last meat, you know?”

“Nonsense,” Jean snorted, still inspecting his stomach that was bludgeoned by Eren’s fist earlier. He would only finally surrender to the pain where no one would see other than two of his most trusted comrades.

“Yeah, Sasha. Nonsense.” Connie repeated, turning his head to Jean as he sought for reassurance, “We’re gonna survive this one. Right?”

There was a brief silence between them. It was clear that despite their best hope, they were thinking the possibilities of meeting their lethal ends with this mission. The idea of being young had never crossed their minds before – how they should not be thinking of their own death, how they should cast hope for the future – these were some distant ideas that they never got acquainted with. For these young soldiers, there were moments when they passingly imagined of being in their adulthood and what would they do by that time; but to their surprise, along with it often arrived the feeling of remorse, as if their wish to live on were nothing but wishful thinking. They had been conversant with death too early in their lives, and it had become a recurring visitor that they had to greet reluctantly.

“I really hope so…” she mumbled, her eyes gazed afar at the trio down the steps, “Must be hard for them, isn’t it?”

“Them?”

“Yeah,” Sasha raised his head from Connie’s shoulder and scooted over so she could look at both Connie and Jean, “I can’t imagine having to put up with such burden, returning to their decimated district.”

“Poor Armin and… Mikasa. And then there’s that maniac,” Jean scoffed, “he better does his job right. Tch. Such great power on meekly little hands—”

“—Jean,” the interruption was unprecedented as it was stern, Sasha was looking directly to him, “Cut it off, alright? It’s no use.”

There was a brief look of surprise from Jean that he immediately masked with a low chuckle, joined by Connie who was quick to disperse the tension.

Connie and Sasha knew how Jean felt about himself, and how hard he fought his own inner battle. His nightly mumbles of the regret and grief about the passing of Marco, and how he wished he had been better and stronger for tens of his fallen comrades. In those treacherous hours, often slipped through his lips ‘If only I had the power of the titans, I could have made a difference.’ or the seemingly vengeful, ‘If only we didn’t have to save Eren so many times.’ They both knew how calculating, cautious and capable Jean was, and how much he felt overshadowed by unfortunate circumstances, or how he’d always felt like he could have done more if only he had been given the chance to. Each time he succumbed into the dark clouds of his mind, Jean and Sasha was the voice of reason that brought him back from his own demon, ‘For greater good,’ was the convincing phrase that the two of them uttered to Jean, and for greater good did Jean thrived to drown his individual desire and pursuit.

“Let’s just focus on each other, okay?” Connie spoke reassuringly, trying to maintain the lightness in his voice no matter how somber had his heart grown to be, “The three of us. Let’s keep each other safe, okay?

There was a quick yet solemn unison between Jean and Sasha, “Okay.” they said, before a deep silence ensued. From afar, they could hear the sound of Armin from down the step, he was standing and babbling enthusiastically to Eren and Mikasa about the vast prairies of boundless salty water – where merchant could spend their whole life collecting its salt yet it would never deplete. The three of them let silence hung among them as they listened to Armin, and each tried to picture how marvelous the discovery would be. How beautiful, how magnificence would that feeling be. The greater good beyond the wall.

Intuitively they turned to look at each other and the smiles were poignant on their faces, each engulfed in their own thoughts. For a moment the idea of a vast world out there brought a keen warmth inside Connie’s chest, before it was abruptly ceased by the recognition that he no longer had anyone to return home to and tell the story about his journey. Sasha could read the pain that was growing to be visible on Connie’s face, she reached for his arms and squeezed it playfully, “Connie, don’t you think Armin’s crazy?”

“Eh?”

“Eh?” the two exchanged confusion, the similarity their minds shared was uncanny, “Don’t you think so? What kind of weird place would that be? Boundless prairie with water that never runs out of salt to mine… He’s crazy. Maybe knocked himself on the head too hard on the last mission.”

And then the three of them burst out laughing in the kind of humor only they would understand. Jean slid down from his seat and embraced his two friends closely, muttering under his breath, he spoke deeply, “I care so much about the two of you guys…”

There was no audible ‘We do too’ or the likes of it in their friendship for they already knew how they felt about each other. Sasha knew that the forest had long gone for her, and she knew that her home had now resided in the shared battles and journeys with her two best friends. She had accepted the fact that her days would never return to normalcy in the forest like what she had hoped in her early cadet days, but the thought that she would share these days as a soldier with Jean and Connie –no matter how awful or hard would those days be— never failed to bring her at ease. The thought of it made her smile again as she said, wondering, “What do you guys want to do once the war ends?”

The two boys looked at each other, puzzlement was quick to show. When would the war end? They all thought, as each of them had different imagery of what post-war life would look like. For Jean, it would simply look like his childhood: the return to that warm omelet lunch cooked by his mum, laid out on the dining table of his home that he hadn’t been for years, and the faint sound of his mum caressing his hair, ‘Eat well, Jean-boy!’; For Sasha it would simply mean a stroll down the market, buying all the juiciest meat she could buy, and then cook it for the town’s orphans. She thought of chopping down the oak tree behind her old home in the forest, and turned it into the largest dining table she had ever seen, so it would house enough seat for each orphan in the district; As for Connie, after the malady of Ragako, he thought hard what kind of life would he lead after the war ends. For a while, he had thought how meaningless would that be to stay alive after Ragako had been done for. ‘But maybe,’ he thought to himself one day, when he saw Jean and Sasha argued intensely about the best type of dish that eggs could be made into, ‘Maybe I could stay alive just to hear these two idiots argue every day. Maybe I could keep on fighting for everyday’s little, precious moment like this.’ Connie finally knew what kind of post-war life would he like to have: A future where he would no longer have to fight and kill. To have nights when his slumber would be soundly and peaceful, without the voices of death and miseries ringing inside his head no more. He hoped that one day he could tell the tales of his youth to all his grandkids, and how he defeated all the monsters with his two best friends.

“I think this might sound lame but,” Jean broke the silence, “I think I wanna buy my mum a house in the capital. She might like the fancy dwelling, you know.”

Jean and Connie nodded, acknowledging how close was Jean to her mum, and how there was no day passing without Jean regretting his bad behavior towards her during his insecure cadet days. Sasha giggled a little, to the confusion of the two boys, “For me… Maybe I wanna get married.”

The boys suddenly erupted into a fit of laughter, as Connie shrieked, “You—Sasha Braus? Married—to what?”

Sasha kicked the boy’s shin, making Connie whimpered in overdramatic tone, “Of course to a living, breathing man, you idiot.”

“Come, come Sasha, tell us what he’d look like,” amidst his laughter, Jean tried to hype her up, “so we would know what to look for.”

The girl looked up to the starless night and mumbled to herself, “Hmm… maybe… a cute… blond man…” her wondering was quick to be cut-off by the boys’ yet another voluptuous laughter.

“Whoa Sasha, that makes neither of us then! Are you sure?”

“So, like—Armin?”

“…or Commander Erwin?”

Sasha blew a raspberry in disapproval, but carried on with her imagery of whom to marry, “…who likes to cook and also good at it…”

The two boys were still immersed in their own laughter while patting Sasha’s shoulders teasingly, “Let’s stay alive together so we can meet your blond cook one day, okay?”

Sasha giggled to herself, drawing her knees to her chest and hid her face in a childish embarrassment. Jean turned to Connie and nudged him on the waist, making him flinched, tickled, “Oi Connie, your turn.”

He fell to a deep, prolonged hum, before shrugging his shoulder, “I don’t know, maybe something simple.”

“Like what?” Sasha asked, raising her face from her knees.

“Maybe I want to write a book,” Connie said, her mind wandered, “and maybe live close to you guys. Maybe I can try your mum’s legendary omelet, yeah, Jean?”

Jean chuckled in approval, letting Connie to continue, “I’ll have the neighborhood kids –or my own grandkids— come over to my house and listen to our deadly attack on titans. I’ll have Armin come over too since he’s a great story-teller.”

The three teenagers fell deeply into their imagination of how pretty that picture would be. Jean sighed, letting the two others know that there was still a sour fruit hanging in his mind, “Do you think one day someone would write a story about all these?”

“Possibly.”

“Do you think they’ll mention our names too? Jean Kirstein, Sasha Braus and Connie Springer…”

“Probably.”

“Do you think anyone would root for us?” Jean asked again, “Obviously we don’t have the power of the titans, nor are we humanity’s strongest soldiers…”

The three of them drowned into yet another deep silence. Their eyes stared afar at Eren, Mikasa and Armin who were getting ready to leave, secretly mirroring their own to them.

“Hmm,” Connie hummed, ever characteristically so, he maintained the keenness in his voice, “maybe someone would root for us because we remind them of themselves. Just ordinary people who thrive…”

Jean raised his brows as he looked at his best friend, “Even when we’re greeted with struggles beyond compare?”

“Exactly.”

Sasha chimed in, “Even when sometimes it feels like it’s beyond our ability…”

“We keep on fighting. Right, guys?” Connie threw his smile to the two fellow soldiers whom he had grown to love and care for, more than he had to himself, “Because that’s what matters, right? As long as we put the effort, we give our own meaning to this futile fate of being alive.”

“That’s right.” – “Yes, Connie.”

Connie sighed, this time it was the sound of relief, “I’m grateful.”

“For what?”

“For the two of you. You both are the only family I have left.” There was still a stinging pain in Connie’s words, but he was finally at terms with it. He had made peace with his grief, and it was visible to both Jean and Sasha as they hug the shorter boy closer to even a warmer embrace, and finally, they laughed again.

“Or maybe we can rebuild Ragako after this?” Jean sparked the idea, sending a glimmer of hope into Connie’s eyes, “Find the cure for your mum, and let’s live closely together there. We can be neighbors. You said there’s plenty of boar for Sasha to hunt, right, Connie?”

Sasha squealed in excitement to which Jean responded by a loving pat to his brunette hair, as he spoke again, “And maybe we can go to Sasha’s house for dinner every night since his husband’s a good cook.”

“Yeah, sounds like a plan.”

“Let’s stay alive, guys.”

“The three of us.”

“Yeah.”

“Together?” – “As long as we can.”

And so that night, they laughed and laughed. For once, under the starless skies they became what they had not been able to become: children with child-like wonders. Casting hope for tomorrow, they were there to laugh at the odds and to live their lives so well that Death would tremble to take them.

A/N: Hi guys, I hope you like it! Please let me know what you think! Comments or reblogs are highly appreciated, like so so much.

Out of all angst fics I ever read, my heart hurt the most writing this down. Truly, what an ending for them by Yams.

Credit: The last line was derived from Charles Bukowski’s publication.

[ssajj]

Alright

You forget to take care of yourself while battling through medical school. Spencer tries to help. 1.6k, f!reader

Warnings: mentions of poor self care, very vague description of fainting.

A/N: literally wrote this in an hour, so I hope it's okay lol

"You're still up?" Spencer asks, opening the door to your shared apartment. 

You rise onto your feet, ignoring the black dots that spot your vision. "I thought you weren't getting back for another hour or two," you say, wrapping your arms around him and laying your head on his chest. 

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. "JJ got done with the sheriff earlier than she thought. How come you're still up?"

"Homework," you groan. 

You're in your second year of medical school, and if you're being honest, it's kicking your ass. Most of your studying is done when your boyfriend is at work. He used to try and help, although you put an end to that. He was just so smart, so quick to memorize the material you've been agonizing over, that sometimes it'd send you into a tailspin. You never wanted to tell him that, though. Not when he was being such a wonderful boyfriend. Lately, he's been worrying too much and usually tries to pull you away from your textbooks and notes. It's terribly hypocritical of him. You're both a lot better at taking care of each other than yourselves. 

"It's three in the morning, bub," he chides gently. "Let's go to bed."

Violently, you shake your head. "I have an exam soon!"

"The brain stops working correctly once someone is overtired."

"I know."

"And you're overtired."

You sigh. "I know."

Before you can protest more, he bends a little and sweeps an arm under your knees, using his other arm to wrap around your upper body. You squeal, your arms going around his neck. "When did you get so buff?!"

He laughs, shifting you around so you're settled more comfortably. "I told you, Morgan and JJ keep making me work out with them."

"Remind me to thank them," you say, getting another laugh out of him. It's cliche, you know, but his laugh is your favorite sound in the world. 

It doesn't take him long to carry you to the bedroom. Gently, he deposits you on the bed, kissing you again on the forehead. "I'm going to go clean up your books and then come back, okay? Get ready for bed."

You're asleep before he's even out of the room. When he comes back, he pulls the blankets over your body, changes into pajamas, and crawls in after you, pulling your body against him. 

--

When you wake up, it's to the fire alarm going off. 

"Everything is fine!" Spencer yells from the kitchen. You blink a few times, adjusting to whatever the hell is happening. Even in your sleepy state, everything does not seem fine. 

You get out of bed, putting on your slippers before making your way into the kitchen. There, you can see Spencer batting at a cloud of smoke coming from the stove top. "Spence, what's happening?"

"I burned the eggs," he says, sounding so genuinely upset about it that it confuses you. "I was trying to make you eggs."

You help him clean up the eggs, wincing at just how burnt they are. It's hard to say how Spencer even managed to do that, but you don't mock him for it. He's been worrying about you, so you know he was just trying to make you feel better.

"Come back to bed with me?" You ask, one of his hands in yours. 

He's terrible at saying no to you, so he doesn't try. Instead, he follows you, curling against you once you're in bed. Frankly, he's just glad that you want to sleep. "I love you."

"Love you more."

"Impossible."

--

The next day, he's called away again. You're a little surprised. As chaotic as his schedule is, you usually get him for a few days after a case. 

"Take care of yourself, okay?" You tell him, kissing him softly.

He nods. "You too. Please."

--

"You seem distracted, kid. What's going on?" Morgan asks, sitting next to Spencer on the jet. Even during their debriefing, he only seemed half aware of his surroundings. Morgan didn't understand his brain, not in the intimate way you did, but he had a good idea of how easy it was for Spencer to get lost in his thoughts.

"Hm?" Spencer hums, looking up at Morgan. "Oh. Just thinking about Y/N."

Morgan snorts. "Shocker."

"I'm serious!" Spencer protests. "She's so stressed out about medical school. I'm worried about her not taking care of herself when I'm gone. She just puts an unhealthy amount of pressure on her shoulders."

"That reminds me of someone I know."

Spencer looks confused for a second before catching a look at Morgan's raised eyebrow. "Shut up. I just- I don't know how to help her. I'm gone too often to encourage her to rest, or to put down the textbooks, or tell her that I think she's amazing when I see her doubting her ability."

"She'll be okay," Morgan reassures. "And you'll be able to check in with her once the case is over. For now, though, we need that big brain of yours focused on the case. Okay?"

"Okay."

--

Back at the apartment, you've spread all of your study materials on the floor, having given up on keeping it contained on the coffee table. Your back is aching and you've been on the verge of tears all day. Focusing is difficult, especially since all you want is for your boyfriend to hold you and make everything better. 

But that isn't how you operate, so you take a deep breath and get back to work. By two in the morning, your body feels heavy and your mind feels full. You also forgot to respond to Spencer's nightly text, which just makes a wave of guilt crash into you. It's too late to text him now, so you set a reminder in your phone to text him when you wake up. 

--

This time, Spencer is gone for a week and a half. Four times, you forget to say goodnight to him. Twice, you're so distracted that you don't answer your phone when it rings. Your entire life has become your textbooks, especially after you bomb a pop quiz on Wednesday. That sends you into a downward spiral, one you aren't recovered from by the time your boyfriend comes back. 

"How was the case?" You ask him, ignoring the way your mind feels fuzzy. It's probably been too long since you got a proper night's sleep. 

He's peering at you. "It was okay. What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Y/N," he sighs, kneeling in front of you where you're sitting on the couch. He's holding your hands. "Please take a break. When's the last time you've been outside?"

You frown. "You hate going outside."

"I prefer to be indoors, but I understand and respect the benefits of spending time outdoors." He pulls you to your feet. Somehow, you don't stumble. "Come on. Let's go walk around the block."

He grabs your shoes for you, and you have to sit down again to put them on. Once you're outside, you do have to admit that the fresh air feels amazing on your face. 

"You're really quiet today," you say as you walk. 

He nods. "I'm worried about you and I'm not sure how to help."

"You don't need to-"

"Y/N," he interrupts you. "You...you help me all the time. I don't even think you realize how much you help me. You always listen to me when I go off on a topic you probably aren't even interested. And you come up with excellent questions and responses. I feel more comfortable with physical touch than I ever have, because you're always so gentle and kind and respectful of my boundaries. You make me feel good about myself. When something is wrong, all I can think about is how I know seeing you will make me feel better. My mom adores you. But I know you're struggling and I can't-" he cuts himself off, taking a deep breath. "I want to help you the way you help me."

And in a fantastic bit of timing, your vision goes black as you fall to the ground.

--

You wake up in a hospital bed. "Spencer?"

He startles, rising from where he was slumped over in a chair. "How are you feeling? I need to call a nurse. But. How are you feeling?"

"Tired," you mumble. "What happened?"

"You fainted. The doctors said you were overly exhausted and suffering from mild dehydration." Spencer's tense all over, his hands flexing at his sides. 

Ah, shit. You fucked up. 

--

After that, you try harder. You let Spencer help you. When he's gone, he sends you reminders on when to start and stop studying, when to go to sleep, and reminders to drink water. They're all things you already know, but someone checking in on you helps you actually follow through, helping you hold yourself responsible. When he's with you, he peppers you with kisses when he knows you need to relax, picking you up and carrying you around the apartment to make you laugh. Since he has a habit of burning food and you hate cooking, you two get a lot of takeout. 

"Hey," you say one day, closing your textbooks and going over to him. "You know how much I love you, right?"

He smiles and buries his face in your hair. "Yeah. And you know I love you too."

Spencer can't fix everything for you, nor can he fix the hell that's med school. But he helps. Knowing he's always here for you helps. 

Being loved helps. 

[buckysrighthanddoll]

Weaponized

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: meantions of trauma (SA related), angst, slight pining

Prompt: “If I love you, is that a fact or a weapon?”

Getting into Bucky’s mind was easy. The man was overanalytical and calculated every small detail. You didn’t need to say a word for Bucky to think about you.

Getting into Bucky’s heart, however, was entirely different. He was guarded like Fort Knox; he lined the walls with dozens of troops, and then he had even more waiting on the inside.

You always held sympathy for Bucky. He went through a lot; there was not a single thought in your head that called him a monster. He was brainwashed and had no control over his own actions--there was nothing he could do besides stay alive.

The first time you had any interaction beyond an introduction, it was because Tony put you and him on a case together. Basic recon--eastern Spain. The mission would be a week, but it wasn’t horrific compared to other missions.

Bucky was strict at first. Rigid, even. He never spoke a word unless you talked to him first, and he never let himself go. Well, not until you convinced him to.

“Come on, James, it’s just a drink,” You scoffed, offering him the glass of whiskey.

“Don’t call me James, please,” He responded. That was the thing with Bucky--he was polite, despite everything he wanted to say. “And we’re on a mission. Drinks are not a good idea.”

“You’re a super-soldier,” You pointed out. “I thought you couldn’t even get drunk.”

“I can’t, but you can.”

“Have one drink with me, and I’ll stop,” You bartered. Both of you knew that if Bucky didn’t want to, you wouldn’t make him. But you were hoping that this would loosen him up a bit.

Once the night’s work was done, you both drank some more. You were a lightweight and got tipsy relatively quickly. He was stone-cold sober.

You smiled upon the memory. It was easy to recall him helping you back to the shitty motel room, and it was even easier to remember him helping you to bed.

Things got a bit easier after that mission. It was hard not to when you spend a week alone with someone on a mission. Communication was imperative, and sleeping in the same room with someone else can (and will) bring someone closer together.

You had thought that maybe you were starting to get through to him, but then the mission was over, and you both went back to the tower. Bucky locked himself in his room like he usually did, and you went back to your daily activities.

Bucky came into the kitchen almost nightly. You were also there, although neither of you spoke to each other. You couldn’t sleep at night, so you usually stayed in the kitchen or communal area to catch up on some reading and writing. Bucky would grab some water and sit at the counter, not saying a word.

Both of you would sit in silence, despite your mind thinking of a multitude of questions. You wanted to talk to him like you did on the recon, but that seemed nearly impossible with his walls so high.

Six weeks had passed like this. One night, however, it changed.

“I get nightmares, too,” You said casually. “Not quite as intense, but I still get them.”

Bucky looked taken aback for a fraction of a second. “I’m sorry,” He muttered, looking up from his glass of water.

“You don’t have to apologize, Bucky,” You responded, placing a bookmark and setting your novel down. “I just want to put it out there that if you’d like me to try and help you, I’d like to.”

“But--”

“I’m not just saying it because I feel like I have to,” You interjected. “I’m saying it because I want you to get a good night’s sleep. You’re tired.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“I’m not asking you to spill your deepest fears. I’m asking if I can help you.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive,” You reassured. “Come on.”

Bucky led you back to his room, and then he awkwardly sat on his bed. You placed your book on the nightstand and got under the sheets on the opposite side of him, holding the blankets for him. He rested his head on your chest and put his arms around your torso. You grabbed the book with one hand and played with his hair with the other.

“Would you like me to read to you?” You asked. “It’s a poetry book if that’s okay.”

“Yes, that’s fine.”

“Okay,” You answered, opening the book to some of your favorite poems. You began reading to him, the words flowing freely and gently from your lips. For a fleeting moment, his mind told him that he wanted to drink those words from you as though he was parched.

Coincidentally, it was also the night you began to fall for James Buchanan Barnes.

He fell asleep on your chest, and you put the book down once his breathing evened out. You didn’t want to get up. You wanted to stay here and keep playing with Bucky’s hair, listen to his breath, and feel his heartbeat. He was resting, and it was beautiful.

When Bucky woke up at five in the morning, you were still awake. You had been scared to fall asleep next to another man, but that was a trauma you weren’t ready to dig up. The two of you were in the same position he fell asleep in but was nearly startled to find you still playing with his hair.

He hummed in relief when he noticed you there, burrowing himself deeper into you. It made your heart soar. You had guessed that this would be awkward. After all, you were still in his bed, hand dancing in his hair, and you hadn’t gotten a lick of sleep.

“You haven’t slept,” Bucky said. It wasn’t a question; it was a statement. He already knew.

“And you slept like a baby,” You countered, taking the attention off of you. You really didn’t want to admit to this man that you couldn’t share a bed with anybody. It had been nearly a decade.

“Why didn’t you sleep?” He asked groggily. He rolled over and stretched his body, exerting a yawn while he was at it.

“Just couldn’t,” You responded vaguely. “You going on a run?”

“Yeah; are you joining?”

“Another time,” You told him. “I have to get some paperwork done,” You added. Your hope was to avoid suspicion, but you knew that if anybody could read another human being, it was Bucky Barnes.

Lucky enough, he left it alone. You went on your separate ways for the day and repeated the process at night. Of course, he became wary about why you hadn’t been sleeping whenever you stayed the night with him. Even when you had slept together in your bedroom, you didn’t get a wink of sleep.

A month later, you were head over heels for him. It was easy to fall. There were numerous late-night conversations, coffee runs, and morning jogs. There were even more workouts and training sessions. Things were amazing. Bucky was finally starting to let his guard down around you, and the team noticed as well.

Bucky would come to team meals, but only as long as you were there. Steve noticed that he smiled and conversed with everybody he could, but only when he was by your side. You calmed his nerves. You offered him some form of emotional protection. He knew that if he wanted to leave at any point, you would follow him and hang out in his room with him. He fell for you, as well, but he wasn’t able to admit it to himself.

The only person who was worried was Tony. It wasn’t that he was unhappy to see you in brighter moods. He totally adored that. It was the concern of compromising missions because of emotions. Tony didn’t know how you’d be together. Any mission would be dangerous if one of you got hurt or went missing. Emotions could be used as weapons.

Tony pulled each of you aside to talk. It was a simple (yet stern) conversation that summed up to not letting the world know if you were sleeping with each other. If that information got into the wrong hands, the team could be threatened.

Both of you had the same reaction, despite not knowing about each other’s conversation; it was all “nothing is going on between us--we’re friends”.

Tonight was just like any other night. Once everybody decided they were going to bed, you went into Bucky’s room and laid in his bed.

“(Y/N), can I ask you something?” Bucky asked as he slipped on a shirt. You hummed a yes as you looked at him. “How come you never sleep when we do this?”

And there it was. The question you had been avoiding for nearly three months. “Buck, I don’t know if I wanna talk about this.”

“No, we need to,” He pushed. “I feel horrible seeing you with bags under your eyes because you’re not sleeping at night. You’re exhausted when we have to do things with the team. You pass out on any car ride or when we use the quinjet. Doll, you even nod off at debriefings.”

“I can’t sleep in the same bed as anybody,” You muttered, sighing as you gave in. This was Bucky, and as much as you didn’t want him to know, you had to tell him. He was a concerned friend. “I haven’t been able to in ten years.”

“Why’s that?”

“I’m not going into it right now. All I can say is that something happened to me when I was with this guy--it happened while I was sleeping. And it happened multiple times. So now whenever I try to fall asleep with someone, I just get the most intense nightmares; and that’s if I can fall asleep at all.”

Bucky didn’t say anything; he just nodded his head and got into bed next to you. He held his arms out to you, which was rare. Typically, you held him so that he could sleep. This time, though, he wanted to let you know that you could let your walls down.

“I wouldn’t wanna sleep beside me, either,” Bucky said after a couple of minutes. “I mean, I don’t even understand how you can put up with my screaming and kicking like you do.”

“That’s easy,” You state before realizing how awkward of a position you put yourself into. You couldn’t just tell him that you loved him. Not now. This wasn’t the right time (but then again, would it ever be the right time?). You quickly thought of something to add. “I like helping you rest better.”

“You need rest, too,” Bucky responded, rubbing his hand up and down your back. He had found that it was a quick way to calm you down--but it was never enough to help you sleep.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried staying awake longer than you. There were nights where neither of you slept because he wanted you to fall asleep first. It never happened.

“I get to rest, but it’s when you go for your run,” You said. You tangled your legs with his, welcoming the warm embrace that this man was offering you.

“I just really care about you, doll. I don’t want you to suffer because you’re helping me.”

The moment shifted. It went from being-a-concerned-friend to there’s-something-much-deeper-here. You looked up at Bucky and found that he was looking right back at you.

“What’s on your mind?” You asked. He looked between your eyes and your lips, furrowing his eyebrows. It was easy to see that he didn’t want to do whatever he was thinking about.

“I--it’s j--well, uh--it’s just that if I--if I said I loved you, I wouldn’t know if that was a fact or a weapon,” Bucky stammered.

“Buck, you’re not a weapon. What we have--” You said, trailing a hand up to his chest and motioning between the two of you. “--is not a weapon.”

“Can I kiss you?” Bucky muttered. Your stomach fluttered at the words, not only because he wanted to kiss you, but because he was so respectful of your boundaries.

“You don’t have to ask me,” You responded. He smiles and ever-so-softly connects your lips. A deep and contented sigh falls from both of you as if your entire lives had led to this moment. The moment when James Buchanan Barnes would hold you in his arms and kiss those celestial lips of yours. The moment when you felt the safest you had in ten years. The moment that tipped you over the edge and into something bigger. Something better.

“I love you,” Bucky says against your lips. He repeats the words, at first testing them out for size; but then he started saying it just because he loved the way you smiled against him and repeated them back to him.

That night, you slept next to Bucky Barnes. The smile on his face when he woke up to your calm breathing and steady heartbeat made everything in his long life worth it. You, he knew, were worth it.

[imagineteamfreewill]

Pairing: Reader x Sam

Prompt: Strong leader type having to physically fall down in order for people to see they’re exhausted

A/N: This one has nothing to do with holidays, but I figured that since the holidays are almost over, no one would mind too much. Please enjoy, and leave feedback in your asks, comments, and replies!

25 Days of Tropes Masterlist

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Sam had taken charge after rescuing everyone from the “apocalypse world”, as he and Castiel referred to it. You probably would too, if it hadn’t been your home for so long. Sam’s world was identical to your old one but it was also so, so foreign. So, you’d been relying on him to help you adjust, just as the rest of your group had been.

His brother had been taken by Michael shortly after your arrival and he’d thrown himself into that, too. Everyone had been more than eager to help. After all, he’d saved you from certain doom and led you to a place that was practically paradise, and more than that, he’d welcomed you into his home.

“It’s okay,” Sam had said, and you remembered the tight, pained smile he’d given you. “Cas and I have it covered. We could use your help with some other stuff, though, if you want something to do.”

You’d all gladly accepted his offer, and soon Sam had the lot of you going on hunts all over the country. Strangely enough, your hunts were the most local. Sam never assigned you anyplace over a day’s drive away, and you often found yourself spending time with him in between cases. Not that you were complaining—he was a great guy. You did, however, notice that Sam had a bad habit of taking on more than he could handle, both literally and figuratively. More than once you’d had to help him carry lore books from a faraway storage room to the library, and you were sure that he wasn’t sleeping as much as he was supposed to.

One night, after returning from a hunt of your own, you found him passed out at the map table in the War Room. His tablet and phone were strewn out beside the remnants of his dinner, and you knew he’d fallen asleep while doing his nightly check-ins.

You sighed and dropped your duffel at the foot of the stairs. “Sam,” you called. He didn’t stir and you crossed the room, gently shaking him by the shoulder. “Sam, wake up.”

That seemed to do the trick. Sam practically jumped out of his skin and you stepped back, holding your hands up to show you meant no harm as he frantically looked around the room.

“Hey, whoa,” you said, keeping your voice as soothing as possible. “It’s just me, Sam. It’s just me.”

Sam calmed down after a second, his shoulders slumping as he came back to reality. He pushed the hair out of his eyes and stood as he looked you over to make sure you weren’t injured.

“Back so soon?” he asked, and you nodded, your cheeks growing warm under his gaze.

“It was just a salt and burn, Sam. How long did you think it would take?”

He shrugged and gathered up the trash from his take-out. “I figured you’d stop for the night instead of driving straight back. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be back till tomorrow morning.”

“Is that why you let yourself fall asleep at the table?” you asked.

Sam gave you a strange look and headed towards the kitchen, gesturing for you to follow.

“Sam,” you sighed, following after him. “I’m not blind. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see that you’re burning the candle at both ends. You’re gonna crash, and it’s gonna be soon if you don’t start to take care of yourself.”

“I’m fine, Y/N.”

“I used to be a nurse, you know. I know exhaustion when I see it,” you told him.

Sighing, Sam dumped the styrofoam containers into the trash before turning and facing you, bracing himself against the metal island. “I’m fine, Y/N, I promise. I just wish we were having better luck at finding Dean.”

You watched him for a second, then nodded. “Alright, I’ll believe you, but only this once. Promise me you’ll get some sleep?”

“I promise,” Sam said, giving you a small smile. “You should get some rest, too. You earned it. Thanks for taking that case, I know it was last minute.”

“Anytime, Sam.”

After giving him one last look, you went back and grabbed your bag, then headed to your room. You heard Sam pass by your door just as soon as it was closed. Satisfied that he was probably heading to his own room for the night, you went to bed, allowing the exhaustion from digging the grave to help you fall asleep.

Sam was better about sleeping and taking care of himself after that. It seemed like you were always catching him eating at normal times of the day, and every night you heard him head to his room shortly after you went to yours. He was still searching for Dean as fervently as ever, and he still sent you and the others out on hunts, but you had the feeling that he was functioning better than before, at least to some degree.

“How’s everyone doing?”

You smiled when Sam caught your eye and you leaned back against the bottom post of the War Room staircase. He’d gathered you all together to debrief, just as he always did at the end of everything month.

“We haven’t heard anything that sounds like archangel activity, but we’ve seen lots of demonic activity out east,” one of the older women said.

Sam nodded, making a note on his tablet before looking up at one of the men who’d chimed in. You watched in silence, listening and thinking about whether or not you had anything worth mentioning. Just when you’d thought of something, however, you heard a heavy thud from Sam’s direction. Panic filled you when you realized Sam had collapsed, and you quickly pushed through the crowd of hunters that was starting to close in around him.

“I’m a nurse, I’m a nurse,” you said as you shoved people away to get to Sam’s side. A few of them grumbled, but they let you through without much issue.

Sam was unconscious, but fine. He was definitely down for the count and you quickly instructed a few of the closer, stronger hunters to help you carry Sam to his room. Within minutes, you were adjusting the pillows and helping them lay him down on his bed. His blankets were crumpled up in a pile on the floor and you wrinkled your nose at the stale smell coming from them when you shook them out and draped them over his still form. Clearly, he hadn’t used them recently.

“I think he’s fine,” you told the men who were lingering by the doorway. “I’ll stay with him, but I’m pretty sure this is just exhaustion. He doesn’t seem to have a fever, and he hasn’t gone out recently so it can’t be any kind of hex.”

They nodded and left you with Sam, shutting the door behind them. Sighing, you pulled over Sam’s desk chair, placing it beside his bed and sitting down. Sam’s breathing was even and you relaxed slightly against the back of the chair.

“Oh, Sam,” you sighed. “I must have been blind to have missed this. We all have.”

Several hours passed and Sam still remained unconscious. Several other hunters came to check on him, letting you know that Cas would be back soon, but you shooed them away when they offered to take your spot at Sam’s side. 

“It’s okay,” you told them with a tired smile. “I want to be here in case he gets sick or something from hitting his head.”

And that was the truth, but it wasn’t the whole truth. You’d grown attached to Sam ever since he’d rescued you from your old world and you had suspicions that he’d grown fond of you too. Or at least, you hoped he had. The subject had never come up, and you weren’t about to breach it yourself. You didn’t want to lose what you had in hopes of something better, only to ruin it.

You were just starting to nod off when Sam began to stir, and you quickly pushed yourself up in the chair.

“What?” Sam mumbled. The word slurred from his mouth as he slowly blinked his eyes open and looking around the room. His movements were drowsy as he adjusted to consciousness again, and finally, his eyes landed on you.

“Hey, how you feelin’?” you asked, offering him a small smile.

Sam moved to sit up and you reached out, helping him up against the headboard. He rubbed the back of his head and winced. “What happened?” he asked.

“You passed out,” you answered. Watching him carefully, you grabbed the water bottle Maggie had brought in the last time she’d checked on him. You unscrewed the cap and held it out for him, then sat as he easily drank half of it in three large swallows. Dehydration was definitely something you had to be watching for now, it seemed.

“Passed out?”

“You haven’t been sleeping very much, have you?”

Sam avoided your eyes and you sighed, reaching for his hand. He blinked in surprise when you clasped your hands around his and gave him a tired smile. “Sam, we’re worried about you. You’re clearly not doing well or you wouldn’t have passed out today. What’s going on? I thought you were doing fine, it looked like everything was going well, eating and sleeping-wise.”

He didn’t respond and you sighed again, letting go of his hand after a second. Without another word, you got up from the chair and pushed it back to Sam’s desk. You could feel his eyes on you as you stooped down to pick up your sweatshirt where you’d thrown it. Frustration bubbled inside of you as you thought of how Sam had dutifully gone to his room every night after you’d scolded him for not taking care of himself. How stupid could you have been to fall for that? You’d never once checked to see if he was actually sleeping!

“Y/N…”

“What, Sam?” you asked, looking over at him as you slipped the garment back on. “If you’re gonna tell me you’re fine, I don’t really want to hear it. I’m tired and considering that you’re awake and talking, I don’t need to watch you any longer.”

“You’re right,” Sam said. He sounded exhausted and you watched in surprised silence as he slowly got up from his bed. “I should’ve actually slept and had real meals instead of just eating whatever was available when I got hungry enough. I’m sorry.”

After a second, you nodded and murmured, “You don’t need to apologize. Just… promise me that you’ll take care of yourself from now on. We need you, Sam. Dean needs you and I… I need you too.”

Sam looked surprised. “What?”

You shook your head and gave him a quick smile, suddenly embarrassed at your admission. “Goodnight, Sam.”

“Wait.” He grabbed your wrist before you could move away, his entire hand wrapping around the limb as he stepped closer. “You need me?”

Tentatively, you nodded. “You saved me, Sam, and you’re one of the few people here I enjoy spending time with. Of course I need you.”

Sam smiled a little and dropped your wrist. “I need you too, Y/N. Thanks for looking out for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Goodnight, Sam. I’ll see you in the morning?”

After a second, Sam nodded and sat back down on the edge of his bed. “Goodnight, Y/N. I promise to actually sleep tonight, too.”

You laughed at that, opening his bedroom door and stepping out in the hallway. “Don’t make me come check on you. I used to do that at hospitals, you know. Check on the patients at night?”

Sam grinned from ear to ear, his eyes sparkling with a mischief you had never seen in him before. “Is that a promise?”

“Sam!” you scolded, and his laugh followed you out the door and down the hall.

_______________

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[team-science-mega-nerds]

Fictober Prompt #20: “You could talk about it, you know?”

Fandom: Supergirl:

Pairing: AgentCorp (Alex x Lena)

Warnings: None

When Alex gets the call, she starts packing immediately. She calls Kara on the way to the airport and texts Eliza, but no matter what they say, she’s going. Research is something that Alex can do mindlessly. It requires focus, yes, but when she’s in the zone, nothing else matters. Alex also likes trying new things. Her ex had called her adventurous in the bedroom but old reliable in real life and Alex hated her so much for it, that she took a contract position in Metropolis for six months. Alex was tired of being that person. Predictable. She wanted something more. 

And then, there’s what happened four months ago. But that? Alex never talks about. 

These days, Alex goes with the flow and if that means being one of seventy-five researchers boarding a ship from Norway and embarking on a year-long arctic expedition, then so be it. She knows the training itself will be difficult. This isn’t just about research, it’s about mental and physical stability and Alex has to dig deep to remain consistent and convince everyone that she’s prepared. 

When they actually embark, Alex has a backpack filled with letters written from Kara. Most of them are supportive, plenty are questioning, but Alex’s replies have always been good. Positive. She’s ready. She can’t deal with real-life right now. 

The actual expedition begins with a bang. Champagne in the main cafeteria and some kind of stew that looks like it would weigh Alex down. Alex lingers around a few other researchers, who she’d call friends at this point, and pokes around at some bread. “I’m more of a whiskey girl myself,” Someone says a few tables over. Alex pokes her head up, recognizing the voice almost immediately. Lena Luthor. A brilliant mind, a no-bullshit attitude, Alex had been warned at least a dozen times to stay away from her. She bought herself onto this ship, Derek had muttered to Alex when they’d received their wetsuits and gear. 

Alex was used to men undermining her, so she took his words with a grain of salt, but she had to wonder. Almost everyone had made their research intentions clear by now, but Lena was still a mystery. Alex discards her plate and approaches Lena. Alex unzips her jacket and flashes the flask she has in her double-layered jacket. “Wanna take a walk?” 

“Absolutely,” Lena says, eagerly following Alex. 

A walk was maybe pushing it, but avoiding the congestion of the mess hall, Lena and Alex find an empty lab with a small lounge area. Lena sits on the couch first but Alex holds out her hand. “I’m Alex.”

“Yeah, I know and I suspect you know who I am.” Lena grabs the flask out of Alex’s pocket without hesitation. “Saw you on the range, pretty impressive.”

“Army.”

“I figured.” Alex didn’t know that anyone had been paying attention to her, let alone someone as well known as Lena. Alex believes that Lena’s intentions must be something greater. This isn’t just about publicity. The amount of training involved alone would make most people quit on day one. Lena had struggled with some of the tactical elements. She was terrible with her shotgun and not very good at getting into her harness during their helicopter drills. But Lena was persistent and Alex could see it in her eyes, even as they traded a flask filled with whiskey back and forth. “You’re studying polar bear movement and health?”

“Yep.” Alex kicks back and sinks into the couch. “You must be on the small scale climate change team.”

“Team?” 

“You guys are like the cool kids. We’re the dweebs,” Alex smiles. “You’re doing the 2-1-2 rotation?”

“Yeah, you too, right?” Alex nods. “We’ll be seeing a lot of each other.” Alex doesn’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing but she decides that she won’t ignore this friendship in favor of isolating herself.  

In her first week on the ship, Alex manages to finally come up with a proper thesis. She’s prepared to write a paper on this when the mission is over but she’s a bit rusty. Alex treks on, learning everything she can from her fellow researchers, while they’re still in the lull before things start picking up. While Alex is just wrapping up her Skype session with Kara, she hears frustrated muttering from the room across the hall. Lena’s room to be exact. 

“Luthor, you need help?” Alex yells. 

“Fucking shit!” Lena grumbles. “Yeah, can you come here for a sec?” Alex blows a kiss to Kara before signing out and heading over to Lena’s room. This is only the third time Alex has been in here but it’s just as clean as it was on that very first day. Lena is sitting on the ground with a mess of wires and her computer next to her. “This system is from like the 80s.”

“You’re not so smart after all,” Alex jokes as she shoos Lena aside and gets to work setting up the equipment. Lena lounges on her bed and watches Alex. 

“So, that was your sister, right?” 

“Hm?”

“That you were just talking to.” Alex glances up for a second. Usually, Lena is very casual but something about this conversation seems to be leading somewhere different. 

“Yeah. Kara.” 

“Because I wondered…” Alex’s heart starts to race. Alex can’t meet Lena’s eyes. She doesn’t want anyone wondering anything about her. She took this journey to get away from hard questions not to run right into them. “About the ring.”

“What ring?” 

“The one that’s missing from your finger.” Alex looks down at her hand and the tan line that’s sitting vacant on her ring finger. “Anyway...I’ll stop being observant if you want me to.”

“Please. It’s not something I really want to get into.” Lena respects her wishes. They continue their nightly drinking sessions which turn into rowdy card games and once - only once - Alex looks into Lena’s eyes for longer than necessary. It’s all fine. Alex calls Kara that night and she sits in her locked room, cuddling a pillow and listening to Kara talk endlessly about her day. 

“Are you okay?”

“Sure,” Alex mutters. 

“I would get on a plane and find you if you needed it.”

“You can’t. Literally, it’d be impossible.”

“Sisters do impossible things all the time.” Kara smiles. “You’re out there trying to save the world, aren’t you?” Kara’s video feed keeps freezing and it drives Alex crazy. So crazy that she kicks a hole through the screen. She didn’t know that being around this many people would feel like loneliness. The same feeling that she’d been trying to drown out for four months slowly began to creep up on her. 

All this and her stupid pride nearly get her killed the next day. As she’s laying there with her life flashing before her eyes, she considers how fitting it is that she will probably freeze to death out there. Alex is saved because she always is. The med bay is frenzied, everyone checking in on her and no one acknowledging the fact that Alex had been reckless. It takes a while for Alex to regain feeling in her body and then, suddenly, all the emotions come flooding in. Lena picks that exact moment to come into the room. “Was that a fucking cry for help or something?” Alex notices that Lena’s eyes are red like she’d been crying. 

“Fuck off-.”

“You were reckless out there. You need to do better.”

“Thanks. That’s helpful.”

“What do you want me to say?” Lena asks as she shrugs out of her jacket and practically throws it into a chair. “You know you’re brooding might be cool where you’re from but if it’s going to put you in danger like that, then you seriously need to talk to someone.”

“It was a mistake.” 

“You can’t make mistakes like that not when people care-.” Lena closes her eyes. “The polar bears need you.” Alex breaks into a fit of laughter that quickly morphs into something unexplainable. Tears. Lena holds her through it all which makes Alex feel different. 

Renewed. 

After Alex has pushed around her dinner and listened to Lena explain everything she’s read in their daily news debrief, things between them get very quiet. Alex expects a question because Lena is the kind of person who needs to know everything. Instead, Lena offers Alex a middle ground. “I’m going to ask you something now.” Lena props her head up with her elbows pressed against Alex’s hospital bed. “Are you married?”

“No.”

“Divorced?”

“No.” Lena looks confused so Alex adds, “I was though. Married, I mean.” 

“You could talk about it, you know?” Lena motions to the empty room. “It’s just us. All the secrets travel out in that ice-cold tundra and...they disappear.”

“She’d dead, Lena.” Alex sits up and wonders why it feels okay to finally talk about her. “She died four months before we started training. Which, everyone told me...screamed and yelled at me, don’t go out there, you’re just upset. ‘Just upset’”.” Alex scoffs. “If they understood the fucking insanity of life without...her.” For once, Alex isn’t coddled, she’s allowed to feel everything. It doesn’t come as a surprise that Lena is the one who lets her. “If I didn’t do this if I didn’t take this risk...I couldn’t have made it back home. Too many reminders.”

“Grief is a nuisance,” Lena remarks. “If only it was all good times on the HMS Discovery.” There’s something that signals clarity in Lena’s voice. Alex doesn’t feel talked down to but understood. It’s taken her a while to find someone who understands the impermanence of life. It makes sense if Alex takes a step back and thinks about it. Lena studies climate change. They're both constantly thinking about how the world is folding in on itself more and more every day. This idea and this moment become the cornerstone of their friendship. 

Four months and two stops into the expedition and Alex and Lena find themselves pulling an all-nighter in the lab. Alex is used to this kind of work, Lena slugs through it. “Hey, I read a conspiracy theory about you today.”

“Really? Was it good? Am I an alien yet, I’ve always wanted to be called an alien.” Alex finishes a measurement and yanks off her gloves. 

“No, actually, someone apparently thinks that you’re not even on this expedition but actually in Italy with...get this: your rugby-playing boyfriend.” Lena seems to find it significantly less funny than Alex does. 

“That’s the best they can come up with?” Lena rolls her eyes. “The idea that I’m straight is the most offensive part of that, by the way.” 

“Aren’t rugby players kinda...jocky?”

“You’re just jealous 'cause you’re a giant nerd.” Lena whacks Alex’s stomach with the back of her hand. “A nerd with abs, very dynamic.” 

Two hours later, they have their first kiss. It’s an accident. Lena’s lips brushing against Alex’s neck as they pull apart from a hug. The second kiss comes at full force. It’s Alex who initiates it and as she’s pulling Lena into her room, it’s Alex that pushes her away. “I can’t. Sorry, it’s not…” Alex covers her face with her hands. She groans and turns away. “This is wrong. It’s...it’s me, I don’t know what I’m doing.” If Lena had said something like neither do I, they might’ve continued kissing. But she doesn’t and as quickly as it began, their unfiltered romance surrounded by nature that is facing destruction head-on ends.

Lena does apologize. It comes a week later. Lena stands at Alex’s door wringing her hands. “Sorry about what happened. Kissing you. I shouldn’t have taken advantage, you’re grieving.”

“You didn’t. I kissed you,” Alex reminds her. 

Alex gets an unprompted Skype call and when she sees Kara’s name she answers immediately. Kara looks at the camera all nervous and apologetic. “Sorry,” she mutters before pushing her webcam to the side and revealing Eliza.

“Alex, finally, I haven’t talked to you in weeks. How are you doing?” It feels like an I told you so waiting to happen. Suddenly, Lena’s in the room holding a deck of cards. Eliza’s eyes soften for some reason.

“Hey, sorry, just wondering if you wanted to play?” Lena asks.

“Oh-.”

“Go on, Alex, play with your friend,” Eliza insists. “We love you, dear. Kara and I are proud.” It’s the first time that Eliza sounds like she actually accepts Alex’s choice. Alex waves goodbye to Eliza and Kara before shutting off her computer and turning to Lena. 

“Your mom’s kinda a babe,” Lena says immediately breaking the tension. 

“Please, never say anything like that ever again.”

The third time they kiss, it’s after Lena has completely destroyed Alex in UNO. Alex suspects she’d rigged the game and when she goes to ask, Lena is busy putting her hair up in a ponytail. “You look nice,” Alex says pretending it’s the first time she’s noticed but it’s not. Lena’s smile is almost mischievous.

“I know. It’s the outfit that does the trick. I just love the sound of my synthetic pants.” Lena moves her legs against each other making the wosh wosh sound they hear every day as researchers milled about the hallway. “And I’m sure the bags under my eyes just add to the allure.”

“Totally.”

“Your flirting is weak sauce, Danvers. Bring it or get to the back of the line. I’ve got rugby admirers and conspiracy theorists galore.”

“I just want to kiss you.”

“Really? For real this time?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” They kiss and soon fall into Alex’s tiny bed together. As they’re scrambling to take their clothes off, Lena pulls the blanket over their bodies. “It’s fucking freezing.” She mouths against Alex’s collar. “I guess that’s what we signed up for.” Alex isn’t certain she had a plan coming into this but being around Lena somehow gave her permission to heal. She wasn’t certain what the world would throw her way next but she had another six months on an arctic expedition to figure it out.