Avengers x Reader One Shots

Minced Words & Minced Fists ✨ Jack Thompson

You sit in the interrogation room at the SSR, tapping your hands on the table impatiently. You're cuffed to the table, as you have been all day.

Finally, someone comes in. Shit. Jack Thompson, your crush. You had been friends previously, but after recent events you had no idea where you stood with him.

"(Y/n)." His voice is cold and professional as he slaps a file down on the table in front of you. It has your name and a huge CLASSIFIED label staring up at you.

"Oh, you have a file on me? How sweet!" You exclaim.

"Look, Agent (y/l/n)—I mean, you won't be an agent anymore so Ms. (y/l/n)—there is quite a lot of incriminating evidence in that file pointing to you. So, you have two choices. You can either tell me what you did, why you did it, who you were working for, all of that, and I'll even give you a carrot. Or, you can choose the stick, which will give me the same information, just a more painful route of extraction."

You just smile, saying nothing. Jack's eyes show his desperation and his voice becomes pleading as he leans in and whispers, "Please, (y/n), you've seen what I can do. You've been on the other side of that window. Please don't do this to me."

Your heart breaks at his voice, but you don't let that show and maintain your resolve. "I'm sorry, Jack, but I just cant tell you."

With a sigh, he rolls up his sleeves, turning to the window as he does so. You can see him mouthing something as he stands there for a second, before turning to you, face hardened.

He puts the stick in your mouth and you bite down on it, retaining the smile. Beneath your facade, your heart is breaking. I'm so sorry, Jack. I love you.

The first punch comes. Then the next, and the next. You lose all track of time as the beating continues, but you bite your lip, not willing to let him hear your pain. Its already hard enough on him as is, you muse.

Jack finally pauses, sweating from the exertion. He takes the stick back, leaving the bitter taste of bark in your mouth. "You ready to talk?"

"You couldn't clean the stick? Honestly, I could get some bacterial disease from that."

Jack rolls his eyes. "So is that a no, you aren't ready?"

"Ding ding ding." Jack sighs as he uncuffs you from the table, cuffing you to the chair instead. After placing the stick back in your mouth, he begins again. You are battered and bruised all over, but this new development means that he can also throw you around like a rag doll. At this point, you're pretty sure you have quite a few broken ribs and other bones, and probably some internal injuries.

Suddenly, the agent hits you with his hardest hit yet. You fly through the air and hit the wall, the forces combined causing the chip inside you to dislodge. You cough it up along with blood.

Jack walks over to where you lay sideways in the chair, leaning over to pick up the chip. "No," you beg, "don't touch it, Jack, please."

He crouches in front of you, suspicious. "And why shouldn't I?"

You say nothing, just try to tell him with your eyes to crush it. He stands there a moment before sighing and doing so. Once he does so, you crush it further, grounding it to a fine powder.

"Phew," you sigh in relief. "I'm so sorry, Jack. But now I can talk."

Jack's puppy dog eyes look adorably confused, not that he'd ever appreciate being described in relation to puppies or the word adorable.

"First things first, no cameras, and only people you trust—so Peggy, Daniel, any of them—can be nearby. Like, have one of them outside making sure no one is eavesdropping either.