#and valentina is my ego

[supernova-rsrcs]

so uh that happened

i'm ru paul's bitch once again, congratulations to me for my fucking third breakdown this week :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

[marshmellowtea]

sentry didn't even do anything wrong his only crime was being blonde 😭

[pervoshi]

SENTRY!BOB . drabble

is this incredibly ooc? yeah a Little, however! it was worth soooo . . .

sentry, who has you pinned against the wall, one hand knuckles deep inside of you, the other covering your mouth so valentina can’t hear how loudly you’re whining out for him.

he couldn’t help himself, the way you so stupidly thought he wouldn’t find you hiding inside his tower? did you really find him that dumb?

the thunderbolts helplessly waiting for you to signal, not knowing you’re currently getting your insides rearranged by the man that not even a day ago was a fidgeting, anxious mess.

bob wasn’t bob anymore, he was someone else completely — someone you didn’t recognize.

“b—bob please—,”

“didn’t i say to call me sentry?”

right, this wasn’t bob at all actually, it was sentry, the almighty hero — well, as heroic as someone can be when their hand is down their ex-coworkers pants.

“not c—calling you that,”

“excuse me?”

bob— sentry’s free hand pressed into your neck, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to keep you check.

“you wanna try that again?”

god, he was hot.

too fucking hot that it was driving you insane.

“s—sentry, sentry!”

you had to speed this up, the sounds of your teammates worrying voices in your ear making you panic, knowing they’d start making their way up if you didn’t give a response.

sentry could see the way your eyes flickered between him, his hand in your pants, and the elevator just down the stairs.

it was cute, the way you tried to act scared when in reality this was exactly what you could ever hope for.

“you scared they’re gonna come up and see you like this—,”

he pushed his fingers further, curling them more, brushing right against your sweet spot.

“a mess, dripping all over me,”

you bit into your lip, hands curling into balls against the drywall, eyes closing as you tried so hard to swallow any moan clawing at your throat.

“no, don’t do that,”

sentry’s hand still on your neck slid up to pry open your mouth, keeping his thumb pressed against the plump of your bottom lip to keep it open.

“let me hear how good i’m making you feel.”

it shocked you just how mouthy he was being, this confidence seemingly coming out of thin air.

maybe it was his ego talking, knowing just how much power he had now, especially over you, his strength reaching new heights he had no idea he possessed.

valentina did say he was as strong as god, so why not make the most of that?

“i think, after this mission,”

you felt him lift your head slightly, eyes now looking directly into his, a cynical grin on his face.

“i’ll keep you here with me, in this tower,”

his fingers sped up, now ramming into you at a pace you’d never experienced, your legs starting shake from the sensation.

“just so i can play with you whenever i want.”

“b—,”

sentry’s eyes flashed a deep yellow, a warning to you if you even uttered that name.

his thumb came up to lazily rub your clit, your body arching slightly as your impending release was slowly building, the warmth bubbling in your stomach.

“s—sentry, i’m—!”

“close? i can tell, she’s clenching around me.”

why did he have to be so cocky about it? it didn’t help how incredibly turned on it was making you —him, having so much control over you.

sentry’s hand, not on your cunt, moved to grope the flesh of your tits, pinching your nipples through the material of your suit.

“oh my go—!”

he chuckled, leaning his head forward so his lips were pressed right against your ear, teeth nipping at the skin ever so lightly.

“yeah, i am your god, aren’t i?”

holy fuck.

your orgasm washed over you like a wave, body shaking, eyes rolling, voice breaking as you flew your hand onto sentry’s wrist.

sentry could feel his cock straining against the annoyingly tight fabric of his suit, the way you so quietly whimpered out his name made him resist the urge to turn you around and fuck you right there.

“go—,”

an elevator ding, followed by the sound of valentina’s voice echoing through the room.

“how crazy is it to think of all the monumental fights that happened exactly here where you’re standing?”

he quickly pulled his fingers from you, looking at the sticky substance before raising them to you lips, pushing against them slightly.

“c’mon, open up.”

you let him slide them into your mouth, tongue licking away your slick from them, trying to hold back any noises that could slip from you.

sentry pulled them out quickly, hearing the thunderbolts move around, voices bickering with one another.

he gave your cheek a couple soft taps, taking a few steps away before turning back, eyes trailing over your fucked our body.

“guess you should clean up before going back down there, huh?”

this cheeky fucking bastard.

[hearts4johnwick]

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ Lethal Touch. / B. Reynolds.

SUMMARY. 𝜗𝜚 while training, all goes well until a move bob makes changes your concentration as you begin to relive your worst memory.

CW. 𝜗𝜚 lil bit of angst, lil bit of fluff, war/military ptsd, violence, character death, bob & reader spar for training.

A/N. 𝜗𝜚 im in love with bob. i need lewis pullman. check out my thunderbolts* fic on wattpad! @/hearts4johnwick 🤭🤭🤭

“Okay, ready?” You smile as you look at Bob, your hands are on your hips and your hair in a ponytail.

“Are you ready to get an ass whooping?” You scoff at his cocky words and shake your head.

“Seriously? You’re stealing my lines now?” He laughs and you squint your eyes.

“I mean… I kind of did beat you once, there’s no way I can’t do it again.” He exhales sharply and shrugs. You nod your head mockingly and walk closer to him.

“You’re not going to do it again, I know you’re not, you like me too much.” Bob’s smile leaves when you tease him about him liking you, you meant it in a platonic way, but he feels nothing platonic for you, purely romantic since the day you tried to kill Ava in Valentina’s storage building. His face gets red, and you notice it but shrug it off. You push him away and tilt your head. “Plus, this is training, no powers, you can’t hurt me.”

“I don’t think I ever could.” He says in all honesty and you smile. You put your fists up and signal him to step forward, to which, he does. He strikes with a left hook which you block by pushing his arm away and kicking him from the back and onto the ground.

“That was nasty.” You bite your lip and he laughs breathily. You lunge forward once he’s back on his feet, but he grabs your arm and throws you to the ground effortlessly. You groan and stand back up. You take the distance between you and run up, jumping onto his shoulders and choking him with your legs, he grabs you by your shirt and throws you off of him. You groan in pain and look up at him. “Bob! I said no powers!”

“I wasn’t using them! It’s not my fault I’m incredibly strong.” You scoff and roll your eyes. You weren’t exactly mad at him, it’s part of training, but damn, he threw you a bit too hard on that one.

Punches were thrown, punches were blocked, and you managed to get a hold of Bob’s arm and throw him over your shoulder and onto the floor, where you pinned his wrist with your knee and held his other leg.

In his mind, Bob can’t get tired of the view, you on top of him, drops of sweat falling from your temple, and your heavy breathing, it is perfection, right now he wishes that instead of his alter ego making him relive his worst moments, it’d be the best moments, and clearly, this is would be one of those moments. “1-0?” Bob’s eyebrows furrow and he scoffs.

“You wish. 1-2.” Your body recoils and his scoring and you stand up.

“1-2 how? You haven’t pinned me at any moment.” You question and he sighs, placing his hands on his hips once he stands from the floor.

“1-0.” He corrects himself and you smile. He stares deeply into your eyes, your smile makes him smile back, your matching energy radiating off of each other. You don’t realize how long you’ve been staring at each other until he reaches out to get a gentle hold of your arm, but you take a simple step back unknowingly.

“1-0. Want to change that?” Bob nods. “Then fight me.”

“I thought you said for me to be careful.” Your eyebrows furrow and you tilt your head.

“When did I say that?” You ask genuinely.

“When I knocked you on your ass.” You laugh loudly and get into your fighting stance.

“Oh yeah? And when was that?” you tease.

“Right now.”

“You’re so funny, Bobby.” You watch as he approaches, you go to tackle him, but he grabs your legs, wrapping them around his torso and throwing the two of you onto the ground. He grabs both of your wrists and pins one to your side, while he holds your other one close to his face.

The expression on your face shattered his heart, he knew he messed up, and your then content features were now blank, scared.

You were there, in the field. Your ears ringing as a result of the gunshots coming from both sides of the field. Enemies. “Conners! Where is Harley?” You ask the soldier next to you, he was on your side, he was good, 3 years in the army. 20 years of age.

“I don’t—I don’t know!” His voice was shaky as he peeked over the spot you were hiding in while the enemy shot your place down. “Lieutenant… we’re not going to make it, are we?” Your head slowly moves to look at him. He was scared, and God, so were you.

“What? Don’t say that! Don’t you dare say that!” You yell to his face as he holds his rifle closer. “We will—we will get out of here. Do you hear me?! Do you hear me, soldier?!” He nods and you take a deep breath.

Staring at a wall. That’s how you would die. Staring at a wall. At least, a piece of you died, staring at a wall in enemy territory.

“Lieutenant ____!” Your closest combat friend calls out your name. You search for her, then, a soft rattling sound catches your ear.

“Grenade!” Harley was in too much of a shock to react, she just stood there, staring at it.

“No! Harley get out of here!” The flash was enough to blind you. You were in a state of mind only the dead could go through. You didn’t hear a thing, and through your blurry vision, all you could see were the flashes of weapons firing, and, the gruesome scene of what was your only companion.

There it was, another piece of you gone. Staring at the absolute nothing of someone you cared for.

You were back, gasping for air as you let out faint sobs. Bob held you close, caressing your hair and rocking you back and forth. You sit up and stare at him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Your lip quivers when you see him, tears falling from his face. You slowly move your hands to his face, cupping his cheeks and wiping away one of his tears. You let out a soft sob and embrace him. Letting all your tears flow while he held you tighter than ever in his arms. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He repeats and you nod.

The two of you sat on the floor, curled up together in a hug for almost more than 10 minutes, as he stayed caressing your hair and murmuring “I’m so sorry.” And “It’s going to be okay.”

When you pulled away, you held his face close to yours. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” You sniffle.

He places his hand over yours. “I’m sorry you had to live that.” You nod and swallow the lump in your throat. He raises his hand to wipe your falling tears. He then cups your cheek and stares into your bloodshot eyes.

Once again, you stay like this with no recollection of how much time has passed, until you close the distance by pressing your foreheads together.

Outside the training room, in the coms room, Alexei sat eating his box of cereals, watching the whole scene unfold, and celebrating silently when you pressed your foreheads. “Young love.” He sighed in awe.

[wintersarge]

short straw- john walker

summary: after being left behind for a mission, you and john are the only two in the tower. the only problem? you were sick and john was... well, john- completely clueless. what could go wrong?

pairing: john walker x reader

word count: 1.9k

content: mentions of general illness, reader being unwell, john being a little silly and generally just clueless. fluff.

enjoy!!

You had drawn the shortest of short straws. 

Valentina had pulled the team into a meeting a few days ago, informing you all of a recon mission that was taking place at some fancy arms deal. You were initially excited at the prospect of dressing up nice for once, even if it was for intel gathering, and you knew exactly the dress you’d wear at the gala- the silky blue one that hung at the back of your closet, saved for this exact occasion. You’d probably pair it with the nice silver stilettos you had, the ones with the glitter heel, or the-

“Are you listening?” Val’s voice had cut through your train of thought, and you snapped your head up to look at her. “This is a hush-hush mission, so we don’t need the whole team. You and Walker are out.” 

John had protested this, claiming the team needed his ‘brains’ and his ‘brawn’. A protest to which you had, of course, struggled not to laugh at. He had sent you a glare from across the table after, blue eyes narrowed at yours. 

“My orders are final, Walker. You’ll stay here. And maybe you’ll surprise us all and learn how to lower that ego of yours whilst you’re at it.” 

That shut him up, jaw clenched.

That was two days ago, and now it was just you and John in the tower. You had both managed to stay out of each other’s way for the most part, only really seeing each other at breakfast or when you were both working out in the gym. You had tried to bargain with Valentina, begging to go on the trip instead, taking Bucky’s place or even Alexei’s. She wouldn’t budge. 

It wasn’t exactly like you hated John- you actually got along quite well. Not best friends, but not enemies either. However, if you had to be stuck in a building with someone for days on end, Walker would not be your first choice, because:

He never cleaned up after himself

He always made fun of your movie night choices

And, 

He was clueless in every sense of the word

Sure, he was tactful when the job required him to be, and he was definitely smart enough in a military sense, but at everything else? You hadn’t met someone so clued out on everyday life, which was certainly saying something as you also lived with a literal hundred year old man. 

It would be funny, and slightly endearing if it wasn’t so irritating. On Monday, when you were making dinner, you had asked John to pass you the garlic press. 

He gave you the cheese grater. 

And then yesterday, he was out doing a supply run for the tower and you’d mentioned to him that you were all out of your shampoo. You even sent him a damn picture of the bottle. And when he came back, bags in hand, what did he give you?

2-IN-1 BODY WASH. 

You were unimpressed, to say the least. When you asked him about it, he had grumbled something along the lines of ‘they all look the same to me’, and ‘they all do the same thing, anyway’. You had to force yourself to walk away from him before you said something stupid. You honestly couldn’t fathom how this man was, at one point, THE Captain America. 

And now, as if you weren’t being tested enough, it was day three of your week-long cohabitation sentence and to your dismay, you were unwell. You had woken up with a sore throat, blocked nostrils and your head was pounding with an excruciating headache. 

You were miserable. 

It was pretty unusual for you to get sick- you could probably count on one hand how many times you had been so in the last few years, which only increased your suffering. But, by some magic, you had managed to get out of bed, your blanket thrown over your shoulders like a cape as you trudged your way into the kitchen where John was making himself a cup of coffee. When he turned around to see you, pale and sickly, he pulled a face. “You look like hell. I’ve seen corpses with more colour in them”  

You couldn’t find it in yourself to bite back, moving slowly to sit at one of the stools. Everything in you ached, muscles throbbing with a dull burn. John noticed the way your expression was twisted with pain, and he set his coffee mug down on the side. “Since when do you get sick, anyway? You’re like the poster-girl for good health.” You huffed at this, hands moving to swipe at his cup. You took a sip, and John shot you another glare, objecting to the way you thieved his drink. “Hey! Don’t give me your illness. If you feel as bad as you look, then Christ- I definitely don’t want that” You rolled your eyes, downing the last of the coffee. “I’m sick, John, and this is how you treat me? You should be nicer to me, you know. Or I’ll cough in your face when you’re asleep.” You wouldn’t actually, of course, but maybe it would make him take pity. 

For the rest of the day, you had pretty much been bed-bound on the couch. You had a thick blanket hung over your frail body and your sleeping mask covering your eyes as they had become sensitive to the bright lights and the huge windows scattered around the tower didn’t help at all. You suddenly felt regretful at how often you took being well for granted. 

One thing you did appreciate, though, was that John had seemed to leave you alone for most of the day. You hadn’t seen much of him since this morning, when he left in a rush after you had threatened to infect him, and you had assumed that he spent the day in the gym, or going over mission reports. That was until he walked through the door, plastic bags in hand. You could hear his boots as he walked over to the couch, and you felt him standing over you. He nudged your shoulder with his finger. 

“You awake? Still alive under there, aren’t you?”. You let out a small groan and peeled off your eyemask, eyes squinting against the harsh lights. John grimaced when he saw you again, standing back a little to assess the scene. “You really don’t look great.” He said, as if that wasn’t obvious. You looked down at the bags in his hands, and back up at his face. You raised an eyebrow. 

“I got you some stuff. You know, to help, or whatever” He sat down on the seat opposite, pulling open the bag. “Thought I would be a nice teammate for once, since no-one else is here for you. And I also wouldn’t appreciate being coughed on, so, that too.” You cracked a small smile at this, sitting up as far as your body let you to see his haul. When he began to pull things out, though, this faded a little. 

His haul consisted of:

A bottle of painkillers 

A sporty energy drink

A questionable looking can of chicken soup (your least favourite flavour, by the way)

Two packs of gum

An ice pack

And a chocolate orange flavoured protein bar 

You looked back up at him, eyes blinking slowly. Your face morphed into one of disbelief and honestly, concern. How clueless was he, actually? 

“And what is a sick person doing with… a pack of gum and a protein bar?” He looked over at you quizzically, as if the answer was obvious. 

“Mint to clear the sinuses, and a protein bar to… feed you, obviously” You hummed out, trying not to laugh in his face. “Obviously. I do hate chicken soup, though. You couldn’t have picked up something else? Tomato? Vegetable?” 

“Chicken was all they had. I looked.” You nodded slowly. “And the ice-pack? I’ve got the flu, not a bruised knee. This is the stupidest care package ever, Walker” He had the nerve to look offended, eyes rolling slightly. “This is exactly what you need. A balanced recovery system. Now, are you going to eat or not? You should really eat.” You groaned, the thought of food not exactly appetising to you right now. “Maybe later. Just want to sleep right now”. John sighed, but he reluctantly gave in. He left you his ‘care package’ and let you sleep on the couch for a few hours, busying himself with something else. 

You were in the middle of a- frankly amazing- dream when you heard it- the loud, repetitive beeps. 

The fire alarm. 

You jumped up from the couch, pulling off your eyemask. “Walker?” You called out, voice sounding rough and sick as ever. Your eyes adjusted to the light as you looked around the room and that was when you spotted him, towel in hand, swatting at the alarm. “John, what the hell are you doing?” He spun on his heel when he heard your voice, and he looked as if he was a deer caught in headlights. He hesitated for a second, but then his shoulders slumped, mouth opening to speak. “I burnt the soup.” 

You looked confused, walking towards him. “The chicken soup? I thought you put that in the microwave, how on earth did you burn that?” He sighed again, and the fire alarm finally stopped beeping. 

“Not that soup. I made some vegetable soup. For you. Well, it was supposed to be vegetable soup. Now it’s just… a burnt mess.”  

Your face softened slightly, a small smile ghosting over your lips. “You… made me soup?” 

He glowered at you from across the room, shuffling on his feet. “Only because you’re sick. Don’t expect the princess treatment from me all the time”. 

You smiled again, throwing your hands up in defense. “Hey, I never said that anyway, Walker. But thank you. It- it was a nice thought” You walked into the kitchen, sitting back at your usual spot on the leather stools. He gave you a small smile, reaching behind himself. 

“I, uh, also made you this. Heard it was supposed to help soothe a sore throat.” He awkwardly handed over a cup, watching your face for any reaction. You looked down at it. It was mint tea, with a dash of honey- just how you liked it. You brought it up to your lips, sipping at it slowly. It wasn’t perfect, a little too strong, but you didn’t say this. You gave a thankful smile instead, your throat feeling better already. 

“Thank you, John. Always knew you were a big softy, really”. He grumbled a little at this, but you laughed it off anyway. You sat in a comfortable silence for a while until your stomach growled loudly as you hadn’t eaten all day. 

“I told you you should eat” John said, smugness creeping into his voice. “Well, if you hadn’t burned the soup…”, you teased, hopping off the stool and moving over to the kitchen cabinets. Your hand lingered over the chicken soup, ready to give in and eat in anyway, when you saw it- at the front to the left. 

A tin of vegetable soup. 

You smiled, shaking your head a little. John obviously hadn’t looked far, or if he did, he clearly didn’t see it. 

Because, he was clueless. In every sense of the word.  

all work is my own, i do not give permission for this to be reposted elsewhere without credit. you may not copy or claim as your own.

[gay-dorito-dust]

what about the 'making you feel safe' prompt like u did for bob and the void-but for the sentry. p.s. love ur writing🙏🏽

I’m glad you like my stuff, thank you for taking the time to read them <3

The Sentry. The nuclear weapon in human skin. The unstoppable force. The golden guardian of good as he was called wasn't just a title he bore for the public, it applied to you too, and it was a title Sentry wanted to make good on time and time again until it was a known fact that he'd keep you safe no matter what. He was all powerful, invincible and strong enough to take out teams like the Avengers without much effort on his part, so of course he could keep you safe and promised to do so until it was a permament fixture within your head as well as his own.

Yet doubt was born despite of the absolute certainty that Sentry could always be relied upon to keep you guarded all the time.

'You know i'm strong enough, powerful even to keep you portected, so why do you still doubt that when it's nothing but the truth.' Sentry asked, geuinely baffled by how despite being shown countless times that you were near untouchable when tucked under his cape, you still couldn't help but think that you were just as vulnerable as you were without his protection.

'I'm not denying that your powerful, you can stop bullets, fly, molecular manipulation, minor pyschic abilties, i could go on about your powerset and feed that ego of yours but i can't help but fear that there's someone out there that midigate your own powers.' You tell him, resting your hands on his biceps, feeling him tense for a moment before relaxing under your touch, knowing the feeling of his eyes watching you closely all too well. 'i'm not worried about your abilties to protect me, i'm more worried about you protecting yourself.' You finished explaining yourself to the man inbuded in gold.

Sentry, having more then bought into the hype fabericated about him by others who didn't fully understand what he's capable of, only seemed more frustraighted from this hypothetical of yours and wondering if he was even doing enough to prove to you that he wasn't weak. Bob was weak, he could barely stand on his own two legs, raise his voice nor make his presence known, he was a shadow on the wall in comparrison to the radient being he was. So he wondered whether you still see Bob in him or just him as Bob even now after all this time; If so he needed to put an end to it and put it to rest.

'What threat could there be out there that could compare to me? none. i am keeping you safe and that's all that should matter.' Sentry tells you as his hands held onto your face, keeping you close like you seemingly wanted, looking deeply into your eyes as his thumb rubs over your jawline. 'I am the safest you'll ever be, no one out there can keep you protected, be the calm to your mind like i can and i'll always come out unscathed from any battle i face becuase i am unkillable.' He adds but it was clear that stating the obvious wasn't enough, you've seen firsthand of the things he's waved off that would've been the end of others, but the downside was that most of those he fought had minimal powers or none at all.

'Just because bullets, knives and widow bites don't hurt you doesn't mean you're unkillable. You just haven't found it yet and this big headedness that nothing can touch you will be your downfall also.' You tell him, wanting him to see through your eyes and drop this egotistical view of himself and reevaluate things, but you might as well have been talking to a brick wall as your words might as well be you casting doubt on a man who thought himself a literal god despite never fighting one. Sentry acts as though he could rip one in half and you blamed Valentina heavily for all this.

Sentry's jaw twitched. 'do i need to stop a runaway train, stop a bomb from exploding or even prevent a building from toppeling to prove you wrong?' He asks, voice tense as the air between you two grew thicker by the second.

'No i just need you to be safe!' you exclaimed, surpising you both but you kept at it, 'You act as though i'm doudting your power but i'm not. i know how powerful you are, you've stood in the line a gunfire for me once for fuck sake, sheilded me with your body and so much more.' You rest your forhead against his as you allowed his warmth to weigh down on your shoulders like a weighted blanket, grounding you to him and just feel his breath fan your face, feeling his silent strength that lied beneath his skin in anticipation of being called upon. 'I just feel as though our luck will run out before we know it. i feel something bad is coming and i hate to see you be caught in the cross fire.'

There was no doubt in your mind that he could keep you safe, you were already feeling such with just him standing in front of you, powerful and beautiful and domineering in a way that made you yourself feel as if you could confidently catch bullets with your teeth. You remebered the first time he had made you feel as such as some people had somehow managed to break into the tower while it was still heavily under reconstruction, you were held at gun point by them at the time and yet while you were worried out of your mind, there was a voice within that told you to call upon The Sentry and you did in a breathy manner.

'Help me Sentry.' and he came within seconds as a flash of gold went from assailant to assaliant, forcing them to unload their clips until they were empty, only for him to destroy their weapons as though he was crumpinling up paper and sending them flying into nearby walls with a small and sharp flick of his wrist. The fight was over before they could blink and now they lied unconcious a few feet from you, not that you could see as Sentry appeared before you, holding your face in his hands as his eyes searched you for any signs that you were hurt, barely having broke a sweat.

'You're safe.' was all he said with full certainty and you have believed it ever since that fateful day and every day afterwards. You could hide under his cape and still feel the safest person alive becuase that's just how Sentry made you feel, even if he was a little overbearing and felt the inate need to accompany you everywhere as his eyes asssest every room for threats towards you, even going far as to stand infront of you on most occasions as you were face to face with his broad and powerful back.

'Then don't.' Sentry replied with a sudden calmness to his voice, his fingers trailing to caress some parts of your neck. 'Don't indulge on that feeling of something yet to come, i shall deal with it like i have dealt with everything in the past. So only focus on me and how i make you feel, focus on that instead and nothing else will matter. Nothing.’ He insists as he pushes his head further against yours, further forcing you to only acknowledge him and nothing else as his golden hair prevented anything else from taking your attention away from him.

You did as he asked and just focused on him, not letting an once of worry enter your head, not like you even could as on occasion you could feel Sentry there within your head making his presence known. It was a reminder that he was inescapable, that you could never truly be without him as there was always some part of him that lingers with you, a reminder that he was your golden guardian of good; sworn to keep you safe and protected from any and all threats, even from the ones yet to come, Sentry would keep you safe even if you didn’t want him to. It was his duty to get rid of any second guessing you had, for you shouldn’t have any and neither should he be made to second guess himself for a god shouldn’t second guess himself, not even for a second.

[strawb3rryg2l]

The Temp, Part 1

Characters: Robert Reynolds x (Female) Reader.

Summary: Mel trains a new temp - Y/N. Y/N just wants a normal life, one where she can forget her past as a spy and start anew. When she meets The Thunderbolts, she can't help but notice Robert Reynolds... or Bob, as everyone calls him. He's quiet, shy, and seemingly holding a lot inside. She almost feels the same, even if she doesn't know him personally. They find a likeness in one another and grow closer.

Warnings: reader is an ex-spy, talks of self-doubt, spoilers for the movie (Let me know if there any more warnings I should put).

Word Count: 1790

Note from the author: This is my work and not only will it be posted on this account (@Strawb3rryg2l) . It will also be posted to my account of Archivesofourown (@ Strawb3rrygal). I will link it here once it is uploaded. This is a work in progress, and my first ever fanfiction so please be kind. This movie brought back my love for Marvel, and I'm super excited about this series I will be writing. This is my first attempt of a slow-burn, friends to lovers, and smut (mueheh). So without further ado... Happy reading!

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Being the assistant of the new Avengers was quite an ordeal. 

Y/N had shadowed Mel. It was only supposed to be temporary work. Y/N was only meant to cover Mel during her vacation. She was leaving for her well-deserved three-week trip to the Dolomites in Italy. Y/N was willing to work.

Willing… and quietly watching everything.

Being Valentina Allegra de Fontaine’s assistant was more about information control than coffee runs. There were reports to catalog, people to monitor, egos to smooth over, and secrets. So many secrets. Y/N learned quickly that everyone was watching someone else. Everyone had blood on their hands. Y/N just made sure no one noticed hers.

Y/N adjusted her blazer in the mirror before stepping into the conference room. It was Day Four, and so far no one had asked too many questions about her. She was just "Mel’s temp." That was good. Low profile. Safe.

The morning’s meeting was more like a war council. The Thunderbolts — or whatever unofficial name they were using now — gathered in a quiet buzz of tension. Yelena Belova lounged in her seat like it might bite her. US Agent was already annoyed about something. Bucky looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. Ghost was halfway invisible, and Red Guardian was arguing with the espresso machine in Russian.

And then there was him.

Robert Reynolds. Or Bob… which is what they called him.

He walked in like he wanted to disappear. Hood up. Shoulders tight. Hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his worn coat. The others gave him space. It seemed like a respectful distance. A low hum seemed to follow him, like the room shifted to accommodate a presence far too big to be human.

Sentry. The man with a million exploding suns inside him.

He sat quietly near the edge of the table, a glass of water in front of him. He stared into it like he expected it to show him something.

Y/N didn’t mean to stare. But there was something about the way he held himself like he was bracing for a disaster no one else could see.

She recognized the feeling.

When Valentina spoke, her voice cut through the tension like a scalpel. "Three weeks. That’s how long we have until we present our team to the U.S. Government. We need order, presence, and we need good optics. So we behave. Understood?"

Y/N took notes, nodding at key points like Mel showed her. No eye contact. Don’t fidget. Be useful, invisible, forgettable.

Then Bob spoke.

It was a mumble, barely audible. “What happens if Void shows up?”

Silence.

Valentina didn’t blink. “Then we all hope to God we don’t have a repeat of New York.”

Bob flinched like she’d slapped him.

After the meeting, Y/N found herself alone in the hallway, pretending to review her tablet. Bob was standing near a window, gripping the railing like it might vanish. The skyline reflected off the glass. He didn't look at her, but he knew she was there.

"You’re new," he said.

"Temporary," she replied.

He nodded, still not looking. "That’s good. People don’t last long here."

"You seem to be doing alright."

He let out a short breath. Not a laugh, not really. “You think?”

She almost smiled. “No.”

That earned her a glance.

His eyes were tired. Not just physically like his soul hadn’t slept in years. But there was something in them that wasn’t entirely broken. Just… quiet, waiting.

“You don’t talk much either,” he said.

“I find it keeps me alive.”

He looked at her a moment longer, then turned back to the skyline.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I know the feeling.”

—————————————————————————————————

It was day Five of Y/N being an assistant and she was restocking the files in Valentina’s private office when she felt it, a presence behind her.

Too close. Too quiet.

In an instant, her fingers tightened around the steel pen she’d been using, eyes flicking to the nearest reflective surface. A silver-framed photo of Valentina shaking hands with someone who was probably on a kill list.

A shadow moved just behind her shoulder.

She turned fast not enough to strike, just enough to confront.

It was Yelena.

"Relax," the assassin said, popping a stick of gum in her mouth. "You looked like you were about to stab me with a Montblanc."

Y/N exhaled slowly and loosened her grip. Her fingers were white.

“I don’t like being snuck up on,” she said coolly.

Yelena tilted her head, intrigued. "Interesting." 

Y/N said nothing. She just tucked the pen back in its holder, turned to reorganize the folders, and kept her face blank. Yelena studied her for another moment, then walked off, humming.

The tension stayed in Y/N’s shoulders even after she left.

This is a desk job. A normal job. That’s what she reminded herself every morning in her tiny New York studio apartment. It barely fit a bed, but it had a window that looked out onto a sliver of Central Park, and for the first time in years, she could wake up without her fingers twitching toward a weapon.

The job paid well (extremely well) and it had benefits. Like if she did a good job she might get a good letter of recommendation for a full time. That used to be unimaginable. Now it was survival. Not in the blood-on-your-hands way. In the groceries-in-the-fridge kind of way.

She wanted this. She wanted quiet.

But the instincts didn’t go away just because you filed paperwork instead of targets. They just got quieter, sharper, lingering.

Later that day, she ran into Bob again in the break room, of all places.

He was sitting on the counter, cradling a cup of coffee. He looked up when she walked in.

“Montblanc pens are expensive,” he said.

She blinked. Word got around quick. “Excuse me?”

“You were going to use one like a weapon earlier.” He shrugged. “Just saying. Would’ve been a waste.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Were you watching?”

“No,” he said. “But I notice things.”

There was no smugness to it. Just a quiet admission, like he couldn’t help it. Like his mind was always ticking, cataloging danger. It made her pause.

“Old habits,” she muttered, pouring herself a cup of the bitter coffee.

Bob glanced at her. “You trying to break them?”

Y/N hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. I am.”

He looked down into his coffee. “Me too.”

She sat on the far end of the table, not too close, but not too far. They didn’t speak again, not for a while, but the silence wasn’t awkward. It was a truce. A shared stillness between two people with shadows stitched into their skin.

It felt like the quiet recognition of someone else who was also just trying to breathe.

��————————————————————————————————

It was raining on the sixth night.

Thunder rolled low across the sky, and the windows in the briefing wing trembled slightly with each boom. Most of the team had gone home or tucked into whatever shadows they slept in. Valentina was overseas on a black-site visit. The building was eerily still.

Y/N stayed late to finish organizing next week’s logistics brief. It was busy work, a little pointless, but it kept her hands moving. Kept her from thinking too much.

When the printer jammed for the third time, she let out a tired sigh and leaned against the table, rubbing her temple. The storm outside felt too close. She hated storms. It brought memories.

Thunder always reminded her of flashbangs.

Behind her, a door creaked open.

She turned sharply and saw Bob standing in the doorway.

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” he said. His hair was damp. No hood. No coat. Just him, in a soft looking hoodie, holding a paper bag.

“You’re fine,” Y/N lied. Her heartbeat hadn’t settled yet. “Shouldn’t you be… I don’t know. Sleeping? Flying? Saving the world?”

He gave a tired shrug. “The world’s still turning. I thought I’d get takeout.”

He held up the bag like it was evidence.

“I didn’t know you ate takeout,” she said, unable to hide her surprise.

He smirked faintly. “I don’t. Usually. But I figured… if I’m trying to be normal, maybe I should start somewhere.”

He stepped into the room, hesitating just slightly before gesturing to the table.

“You hungry?”

Y/N looked at the leftover files, then at the bag.

“What kind of takeout?”

“Thai. Hope you’re not allergic to peanuts.”

She wasn’t.

They ate on opposite sides of the table, cross-legged in their chairs like two kids at a sleepover. The food was warm. The silence wasn’t heavy this time, it was easy. Familiar.

Halfway through, Bob spoke without looking up.

“Do you ever get tired of pretending?”

Y/N froze, her chopsticks hovering over the noodles.

“Pretending what?”

“That you’re okay. That you belong here. That you're not scared you're gonna slip up and ruin the whole thing.”

The words hit too close. She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she set her container down, carefully, and stared at him thoughtfully.

“Yes,” she whispered. “All the time.”

Bob didn’t move. He just nodded.

“I used to be afraid of the Void showing up again,” he said quietly. “Now I’m more afraid of what happens if I get too comfortable. If I let myself believe I’m just a guy with a job. Because that’s when it sneaks in.”

Y/N turned her head slightly, watching him. The way his voice cracked, the way he didn’t look at her when he spoke like he was afraid he’d see fear on her face.

But she could only feel understanding.

“I don’t know what it’s like,” she said gently, “to have a part of yourself that powerful. But I do know what it’s like to have a version of yourself you’re trying to outrun.”

He looked at her, really looked. And for the first time, Y/N saw him soften, just a little.

“I used to be good at running,” he said.

She smiled faintly. “Me too.”

He didn’t speak again for a while after that. Y/N didn’t move, just enjoyed the silent understanding between two people who only wanted a bit of peace. 

He cleared his throat after a while and Y/N looked up.

“This was nice.” He said.

She nodded, and he closed his container. He got up unsure, looking at her once more, and shook his head as though he was fighting against a thought he had had.

“Would you want to do this again?” She found herself saying. She’s not sure why she said that. Maybe it was how Bob didn’t make her feel like an intruder, or a spy, or a ghost.

Just a person.

He seemed surprised and slowly a smile crept on his face. “Yeah, sounds like a plan.”

————————————————————————————————

[inwhichiramble]

Okay Marvel. I see your New Avengers carrying the shadows of the old, but I must disagree about the reflection choices.

Bear in mind, I’m only comparing powers to a certain extent, because let’s face it—every single one of them (except for Bob) is nowhere near on the same level of power as the Original 6. What I raise you is the personality and function they serve as team members. That being said…

Yelena = Natasha

Bucky = Steve

This is easy. Both of them have dealt with some level of “carrying the mantle”. Yelena is Natasha’s sister—the one she was fighting for, her Red Room counterpart in skill set and in struggle. They are the heart of the team… but Yelena has the opportunity to step into a role of leadership. When Steve went back in time, left two legacies: Captain America and Steve Rogers (Sam and Bucky, respectively). Yeah, Bucky is resident “old man”, but he also is learning to lead as well as act as counsel and support, just like Steve did for the OGs.

I also will agree with them that

Ava = Clint

Both underdogs, both with unique and under appreciated skill sets—but Ava is starting to get more notice and appreciation from her team. There’s also the fun dynamic with her and Yelena that calls back to Nat and Clint’s friendship.

Now, here’s where things get different.

Bob = Bruce

Now this is definitely more of a power comparison, but because of how much their personalities/temperaments affect their powers, I think it’s a fair side by side. If it were up to them, they’d both just be hanging out as the resident chill guys, trying to keep everyone else alive. But unfortunately they are both sad little guys with big scary monsters inside of them that are begging to come out. Already we’ve had jokes about getting Bob to unleash the Void at will, just like Bruce and the Hulk. Plus, of course, you have the electric friendships with Yelena/Natasha as the one’s who are able to calm and comfort them, and see them for their true selves.

Alexei = Thor

I cannot be the only one who saw the end credits scene and thought that if Thor understood marketing on any level, he would have been the one thrilled about the Wheaties. He loved being adored—just look at the scene with him and Loki on earth during Ragnarok! Both Alexei and Thor are the resident protective dad/golden retriever characters, who bring the joy and enthusiasm to each mission—which is why it’s more poignant when they endure struggle. And of course there is the ego factor lol

Speaking of egos…

John = Tony

Now I’ll admit that I’m not the biggest fan of John, but I went through the same thing with Tony for the first few movies. Both of them are just a tad insufferable until they finally start to wake up and remember they aren’t the only people who’s lives have sucked. They’re the best in their respective fields, until someone bigger came along and gave them a reality check. But if John continues the way he has been, I think he has the potential to serve people well the same way Tony did. And of course the John/Bucky rivalry doesn’t hurt the comparison.

Anyways, those are my takes. I’ll never compare Valentina to Fury because she doesn’t deserve the respect, but Mel is Maria Hill and I stand by that.

[criminalyapping]

take a break

marvel masterlist main masterlist

pairing: robert 'bob' reynolds x f!reader (platonic? it's not explicitly romantic so you can read it either way!)

a/n: hi hi so surprise but i am a mental health professional and absolutely adored thunderbolts for the commentary!! i think bob is a wonderfully complex character and i've been obsessed with lewis pullman since top gun m so ofc this is spilling out of me. love u bye

warnings: some talk of mental health issues but not graphic!

You feel for Bob. Sincerely and truly, you kind of pity him. Not that you would ever express that. While he was able to create a supportive found family in the Thunderbolts, Valentina kept a tight leash on him. The other Thunderbolts might feel bad, but they go along with it. And you understand! Bob (moreso his alter egos) is extremely powerful, extremely volatile, and not well controlled yet.

All this to say, Bob is kind of trapped inside.

Not really house arrest, but not quite freedom either. Having struggled with your own mental health challenges, you know how difficult it can be; the feelings of isolation, the monotony. Hopefully you're not projecting, but you can see Bob's despondent behavior when you look closely.

When the Thunderbolts formed, Bucky and Yelena made it their mission to add as many layers of insulation between them and Valentina as possible. To them, that meant having their own personal assistant who was not on Valentina's payroll to help manage.

You don't live with them in the Watchtower, but you're there bright and early each morning and typically don't leave until the moon is high in the sky. Sometimes you stay, just to avoid the subway ride home.

"Hi, Bob," you greet as the man pads gently out of his room one morning. The rest of the team is off somewhere doing something you're not privy to. To be fair, you mostly run schedules and make sure their dry cleaning is picked up.

"Good morning," he greets with a small smile.

"What are you up to today?" you ask him. The smile slides off his face, leaving a grimace in its wake.

"Uh," he starts, "nothing really. Maybe I'll work on, I don't know," he pauses, "getting my car registered?" he proposes.

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. "I don't know, that seems kind of pointless," he mumbles.

"I would do that for you anyway, Bob," you chuckle.

The small smile returns to his face, "Yeah, I know."

Silence falls over the room as you turn away from the screen of your laptop, already having searched 'paperwork for ny car registration'

"Do you want to come on some errands with me?" you ask.

"You, um, you think that's a good idea?" he questions nervously.

"Why not?" you smile, "I think you deserve some time in the sun."

"Do you- I mean, should you ask someone first?" he rambles.

"Bob, we're just going to run around for the day. Nothing will happen, promise!" you assure.

"Okay, yeah, that sounds good." he agrees. "I'll go get dressed, then, I guess."

"Take your time, I'll be right here," you grin.

Bob walks back down the hallway towards his room.

Time to come up with some imaginary errands for the two of you to run.

By the time he comes back, you've determined that the two of you will go to the post office to mail back a return (a shirt that Alexei thought wasn't soft enough), go to the bank to get something out of Bucky's safe deposit box (you're not allowed to know what it is), stop for lunch somewhere, pick up some flowers for the living room, and stop at the hardware store to copy a key to the supply closet.

"Ready to go?" you ask with a smile, standing up and leaving your laptop on the coffee table.

"Yeah," Bob agrees.

"Okay, Bob, our first stop is the post office on 16th, are you ready for a subway ride?" you grin excitedly.

"Let's go," he says with a more genuine smile, pressing the down button on the elevator.

Throughout the day you've planned for him, you see the smile brighten on his face, the tenstion release from his shoulders, and some genuine laughs fall from his mouth.

At lunch, a quiet cafe where you sit outside and enjoy the balmy weather, you and Bob chat about anything and everything. You realize that you know Bob, the Thunderbolt, but not Bob the man. The man who had you ask the waiter to fix his sandwhich when it came incorrect, the man who has reread his favorite book so many times he could act it out, and who is continually messing with the shaggy ends of his hair as it falls over his eyes.

You also realize that he knows more about you than you thought he could. He asks about your sister, how you liked the finale of your favorite show that just aired, and if you were still working on putting together the bookshelf you bought months ago but weren't able to finish.

You giggle as you tell him that you had to call your friends' ex-boyfriend to come over with his drill to mount it into the wall.

As you walk out of the hardware store in the afternoon, Bob looks nervous for a moment.

"Do you think, maybe, that I could get a haircut?" he asks sheepishly.

"You're in luck!" you grin, "this was our last stop of the day. Let me find a place nearby that takes walk-ins." you agree wholeheartedly, pulling out your phone.

A few minutes, a phone call, and a 15 minute walk later, you're seated at a chair as Bob gets his haircut.

You're lost in your emails when he stands in front of you, released from the chair and with his hair slightly shorter.

"Wow, Bob, it looks great!" you compliment, reaching up to run your fingers through the shortened strands.

Bob scrunches up his face in embarrasment, but allows you to keep at it.

"So soft!" you marvel.

"You, uh, you like it?" he asks sheepishly.

"I love it, Bob, it looks great on you." you reply earnestly. "Is there anything else you want to do?" you ask.

"No, no that's okay. We can do back now." he murmurs.

"Okay," you whisper, putting your phone back in your pocket.

As you get closer and closer to the Watchtower, you see the spark in his eyes become dimmer. He looks up at the daunting building from a few blocks away and then down at his shuffling feet. You take this in with resignation.

"You know, Bob, I have a designated errand day every Tuesday. You're more than welcome to come along any time you want." you offer.

"Oh, no, I- I wouldn't want to get in your way." he denies.

"Bob," you scold, moving to stand in front of him, forcing him to stop walking. "I enjoyed having you with me today." you say seriously. "This job can get boring, but I loved talking with you, getting to know you," you reveal, one hand coming up to rest on the outside of his arm. "Next Tuesday, I'll wait for you. Please come, it would make me really happy." you promise.

Bob finally looks up from his feet and into your eyes, a small but genuine grin falling over his face.

"Okay," he acquiesces, "I'll be there."

You and Bob continue walking towards the looming building. You were able to see the light in Bob's eyes brighten today, and if you're able to help him, even just by dragging him along to errands around the city, you're going to make sure he's there with you every Tuesday.

A couple of Tuesday's later, you and Bob are at the aquarium. A very serious and necessary errand, of course, when Bob gets a phone call from a worried Yelena. Bob walks a few paces away from you to take it.

"Yeah, I'm just at the aquarium," he says into the phone.

"No, I'm not by myself, it's errand Tuesday,"

"I'm gone all day every Tuesday, we go on errands."

"Okay, well, I don't know what she needs to do at the aquarium but she's very good at her job and I didn't ask questions because I wanted to see the sharks."

"Yes, every Tuesday, Yelena."

"Okay, I'll see you later," he sighs and hangs up the phone. You return to staring at the oceanscape in front of you to pretend like you weren't eavedropping.

"Yelena wants a stuffed stingray." he gripes.

"Did they not notice you've been gone the last couple of times?" you ask him.

"I guess not," he mumbles.

"That's okay," you console, "now maybe they can come!" you attempt.

Bob thinks for a moment, looking at the smile on your face, a matching one on his. They seem to be getting more common for him.

"No, I think I like it like this." he mutters.

Sometimes healing starts with a haircut.

[bishovapls]

⚠️ MAJOR THUNDERBOLTS SPOILERS AHEAD ⚠️

I’ve taken a moment to collect my thoughts, so this one’s a bit more organised than just me screaming about how much this movie destroyed me. I’ve got a few of these little rants sitting in my drafts, honestly not sure if I’ll post the rest but here’s this one because...Alexei Shostakov is not a good man and I hate that (some) people seem to think that he is.

Spoilers below the cut!

Alexei is not some bumbling, well-meaning father who just made a few mistakes. He’s not misunderstood. He’s not the comedic relief with a heart of gold buried under the bluster. No. He’s a coward. A narcissist. And worst of all, he’s a willing participant in the very system that destroyed Yelena and Natasha from the inside out.

Let’s be clear: That motherfucker gave them to the Red Room. He knew exactly what that place was. He chose to hand over two little girls, two children who trusted him, to a man he knew would brutalise them, rip away their identities, their agency, their futures. And he did it because it suited his goals. His comeback. His glory. That’s what mattered to Alexei. Not the children in his care. Not their safety. Just the chance to wear a red suit again.

And when he sees them again after all those years? He doesn’t apologise. Not immediately anyways. One of the first things out of his mouth isn’t regret, it’s a rant: “I could have been more famous than Captain America. Then he buries me in Ohio. Three years! Boring me to tears. Then prison for the rest of my life.”

As if he was the victim. As if he was the one who suffered most.

No accountability. No acknowledgement that he ruined their lives. No acknowledgement of the scars they carry, the memories they can’t speak aloud. That he was the one who tossed them straight back into Dreykov’s hands. Just ego. Just bitterness.

And when he does talk about the girls? It’s not with love. It’s not with pride in who they are. It’s pride in what they became. “Yelena, the greatest child assassin in the world.” “Natasha, not just a spy...but an Avenger.” He doesn’t see daughters. He sees achievements. Killing machines forged by the very system he sent them into. He doesn’t see the brutality, let alone take responsibility for it. Because in Alexei’s mind, it worked. That’s all that matters.

And then… suddenly he flips? At the end of Black Widow, he starts trying. He says sorry. He wants to be forgiven. And the thing is, he even seems genuine. But it’s not earned. Not even close. Because barely an hour earlier he was whining about being stuck in Ohio.

Then we get to Thunderbolts, and somehow, he’s meant to be this goofy dad again. Rolling up in a limo, talking like he’s here to save the day, when in reality he hadn't spoken to Yelena in over a year before she shows up desperate, barely holding it together, practically begging him for some sense of permission to stop. And he uses it as an opportunity to talk about himself again, about how he’d love to work for Valentina. Still, it’s about what he could be. Not what she needs.

Yes, in Thunderbolts, he tries. He gives a speech. Seems to care, is genuinely trying to be supportive. And okay, fine, he’s not completely useless. He does make an effort.

But even during that big speech when Yelena breaks down, he says he doesn’t see Yelena’s mistakes. And on the surface, that’s kind. But dig deeper? It’s just more of the same. Because to him, her “mistakes” weren’t mistakes at all. She did what she was trained to do. She killed. She was efficient. That’s what matters to Alexei.

The films want us to forget what he did. They want us to laugh with him. To see the warmth. The effort. But they’re asking us to ignore the damage. The betrayal. The fact that he let his daughters burn, and only now wants to hold the ashes like they still belong to him.

And here’s the part that really fucking kills me: Yelena accepts it.

She’s not angry that he gave her to Dreykov. Not angry about the years of torment. No. She’s angry because he didn’t call. Because after pretending to care in Black Widow, he just disappeared again.

And that's even more devastating for her. Because she’s been hurt so many times, by so many people, that even Alexei’s bare minimum, his delayed, fumbled attempt at showing up, is enough for her. She’s been taught to expect nothing, and she’s learned to be grateful for scraps. She’ll take whatever little piece of warmth he offers, and call it love, because she doesn’t know what love without condition looks like.

He was never a father. Not in the way that matters. He was another person who broke her, who gave her away and never looked back. And now, he wants forgiveness. He wants to be seen as someone worthy of redemption.

But forgiveness without accountability is meaningless.

And Alexei? He still doesn’t understand what he did. Not really.

[thejadevvitch]

The Jade VVITCH pt. 3

Background

What if Wanda Maximoff had a teacher?Another orphan girl who came to find Wanda after she saw footage of her fighting with the Avengers against Ultron in Sokovia. A girl with green magic who knew what Wanda would become. Wanda adopts her as a younger sister figure and they grow powerful alongside each other. The Jade VVitch. (The double V is purposeful. Witch VVitch looks cooler)

Bob Reynolds x Witch!Reader

Warning! Mention of child abuse. Mention of child death. Mention of human trafficking. John Walker...

In the desert... was the team. Well... the ominous group of enhanced individuals. Jadis was gliding a few feet off the ground. And behind her she carried Ava, John, and Yelena. The glow of her green immiting from her hands and surrounding the three others for a few miles before put... puut... putt... p.. ppuut............. *grunting* "OHH! Fuck me!" Jadis exclaims in frustration. The last of this poison still exiting her body. Her magic not yet in full but mostly. If it was just her she was carrying that'd be one thing. But using your mind to carry a group of people through the air after being hit with a nullification dart was a bitch. "Still on my shit list Captain Suburba..." John rolled his eyes at Jadis. "Yeah yeah." The group started walking once again. "Eh... Uh, those birds are way too high. They're doing recon loops at 4000 feet. I mean they don't know what they're doing. They'll be 5 to 10 clicks away in no time." Walker spoke up trying to brag about his knowledge of military tactics and procedure. "OK Walker we get it. You were in the military. 5 or 10 clicks awa-" Ava contorted mockingly before Yelena quieted her down. The 4 looking off into the distance before all diving to the ground. "What is it?" Asked Jadis followed by Walker. "It's a... what is that?" Then the sound of a car horn... question mark? "Ohhhh no." Yelena started to duck her head. "What?" John asked. "It's coming right at us." Yelena was cringing hard. "It's nothing... its no one." Jadis poked her head up as the limo came to a stop. And out popped absolute chaos. "YELENAAA! ITS YOUR DAD! DONT GO IN THE VAULT! VALENTINAS GONNA BURN YOU ALIVE!" There was a pause. "YELENAAAAAA!!!" Jadis couldn't help but laugh. When they eventually got off the ground and walked over the man grabbed Yelena and swung her around in a bear hug. "О, моя маленькая мышка." (Oh my little mouse) "Ohh! Oh I can not breathe Alexi." Yelena grunted as she kicked her legs. "Shoosh shoosh now. I have come to save you. And now. You are saved." Alexi put her down looking up to notice everyone else. "Oh shit your dad's the Red Guardian?" Jadis said becoming Alexi's new best friend.

Fast forward in the limo. The man introduced as Alexi diving with his daughter in the passenger seat. Ava and Jadis sitting on the side seat with the latter closest to the front. And John in the back. "So there I was on the balcony. Next to me? Mikhail Gorbachev. Ah! Yes yes good times. Good times. Before soviets become such sour puss party." Alexi was going on and on about his affiliation with past personal of importance. How he was Russias first and ONLY super soilder. He even asked Jadis about Steve Rogers. The VVitch lying to stroke his ego knowing it would be what he wanted to hear. "Oh yeah, Steve used to talk about you a lot. H.. he talked about your fight before he got stuck in th-" Alexi slamming his hand in the steering wheel multiple times in exhilaration before she could finish. "SEE?! SEE?!" He said to Yelena. "Steve and I were always tight as the kids say." Yelena looked back at Jadis with an annoyed look to which Jadis chuckled.

"How did you know where to find us Alexi?" Jadis then asked. "Well you see I finagled my way into picking up Ms. De Fontaine at fancy event. I figured good networking but.. but as soon as I get the coordinates for the vault I rush home. I get the tactical beast. Then I drive straight here. Ohh America is so big. You ever drive through Oklahoma? So flat. Oh I forgot to tell you don't drink from the big gulp back there." Jadis and everyone else looked down to see a huge cup of piss just sitting there. Jadis couldn't help but roll her eyes in amusement about this man. And she thought Wanda was the one with CHAOS. But Alexi is on a whole other level. Yelena looked at her dad and questioned, "Alexi have you slept?" Good question. "I'll sleep when I'm dead!" Bad answer. "Well I'd prefer not to die today so maybe someone else should be driving?" John gave out to which Jadis agreed for once.

Not long after came trouble. "What happened to bullet proof?!" Walker yelled blocking everyone from getting shot. "More or less bulletproof. Gee everyone is a critic today." It was on. "More bastards sent by Valentina!" Jadis was pissed enough as is. VVitches aren't exactly know for their calm demeanor. Yelena hanging out of the window shooting while Walker was defending. Jadis moved past Ava next to Walker using her magic to defect bullets away from the car all together. She also used her magic to scoop up the piss cup and chuck it at the assholes chasing them. "Hey! I needed that!" Alexi rang out. Then the explosion. "Is-" Walker interrupted by Jadis. "It's Bucky!" He took down the people chasing them and it was cause for celebration. That was before Bucky turned and shot the back of the limo with an explosive. Jadis shielded herself as well as John and Ava but not soon enough. The car went up. Jadis fell back landing on Ava followed by Walker landing on her. And Jadis blacked out for a bit. Not long after she recognized Buckys voice. "Jadis?" Bucky scooped her out of the limo making her groan in pain. "Shit kid. The hell are you doing here?" Jadis passed out in his arms. And Bucky dreaded when she'd wake. Knowing she was gonna be pissed. From what he remembered Jadis wasn't exactly level headed.

Bob was asleep. Dreaming of a peace hes never known.. A dream of green. Walking through a garden with the comforting ambiance of nature and life. The soothing sound of water flowing into a pond. He takes a deep breath and feels the wind blow through his brown locs. "Hi Bob." Bob turned to see Jadis standing with a flower in her hand. Her dark green hair practically glowing in the light. A beautiful sun dress blowing in the wind. "There you are." He said to her with a smile. Walking closer he does not take his eyes off of her for a second. That's when the wind started to pick up behind him. Bob stops in his tracks and looks behind him. The peaceful atmosphere gets hectic. And when Bob turns back around he sees her again. Only this time the dark presence within himself stands in front of her. "NO!" Bob yelled attempting to reach her in time. But he was too late at the shadow figure wrapped his hand around her throat. The darkness slowly taking hold of her, slowly creeping it's way up her body. Bob falls and finds he is powerless to move. "Your obsession is pathetic. You are pathetic." He hears. "She doesn't love you. You're nothing to her." Bob tries to get up but fails. Watching as Jadis is consumed by the entity. He screams until he is awoken by a woman.

“Hi,” she said, voice uncharacteristically soft. Bob jumped and moved back until his back was touching the headboard. “How are you feeling, Robert? Are you comfortable?” He stared at her for a moment. "I'm f.. fine." He stuttered.

She nodded in satisfaction. “Good, good. You must have had a nightmare. My name is Valentina Allegra de Fontaine.” The name immediately had Bob shaking his head. "You're the one who tried to kill us!" Valentina shaking her head. Interrupted before she could speak. "Y.. you.. you're the one t.. that Jadis told me about." Valentinas eyes narrowed slightly. The anxiety she felt when her assistant showed her that damn tablet. Seeing her shadow ops working together instead of killing each other. And then she saw her... Jadis. The Jade VVitch... Out of all of the enhanced individuals Valentina had come in contact with and/or have heard of. Wanda and Jadis were the two that frightened her most. The ability to read, manipulate, and control a mind. Knowing if she every were to come across either of them it could he her downfall. Doing her best to keep all of her business as far from the realm of magic and witchcraft to avoid Jadis. "Ah, yes. The VVitch." Valentina shutters. She fluffs her shawl before moving to sit on the bed.

"You know it's a good thing we got you away from her. There is no telling what she would've done to you Robert." Val attempts to touch his hand but he snatches it back. "Sh.. sh.. she would never hurt me." He stuttered. "You don't know her Robert. Trust me I have been gathering intelligence on her for years. You have no idea the type of... *scoffs* VVitch she is. I mean... the name does not lie." The lights started to flicker. "I can explain. Would you like that?" Bob nodded in confirmation.

“You signed up for a medical study, which was, as advertised, at the cutting edge of human improvement. But not everybody could handle the amount of greatness that we had in mind." She was truly attempting to butter him up. “You always thought of yourself as the victim. But you overcame it! You went to Malaysia—you were lost. You were searching for something, someone to help you. And you found me,” she soothed.

Bob could feel his breath hitch in his throat. “How do you know about that?” Anxiety building. "Where is everyone? Where is Jadis?" Valentina was getting annoyed at how tight of a hold this VVitch had over her new toy. "Oh, Bob, those people you were with… they’re not honest people. They’re criminals. Villains, really." She was truly pushing just to convince him. "They saved me especially her. I.. I dont know about all of them but she's a hero. She was an Avenger." Bob shook his head.

Bob remembers the first he ever saw her. On TV of course. He was shooting up in his dealers place along with a few other lost souls. The news interrupted the basketball game that no one was watching. Security footage caught Jadis on a mission in Atlantas Airport. She was personally investigating a know human trafficker. She was supposed to be gathering intell. Recon only. But she saw that the man she was following was there to pick up he next "investment." A little girl... Scared and obviously wanting to go home. And Jadis couldn't handle it. There was no one to protect her when she was a kid. And she knew that the Atlanta Airport was large enough and regularly used by traffickers. She followed them. Footage caught Jadis watching above as the exchange was made. The little girl crying for help before being choked by the man telling her to shut up. Then all of a sudden. The sound of glass shattering above them. Falling down raining into their eyes but missing the girl with the guide of green magic. The young girl looked up to see Jadis floating down like the savior she was.

Bob remembers watching the footage thinking he was just tripping from the heroine he had just shot into his system. But no he wasn't completely out of it. He watched as Jadis protected that little girl from glass, gunshots, and everything else. Of course Damage Control tried to hold her responsible for the damages but was quickly shut down.

"She's The VVicked VVitch of the story Robert. I know you. I know all of it." Valentina just ignored the signs around her. The signs saying she was crossing a line. "I know about your mother's mental illness, I know about your addiction, your juvenile record, and I even know about the times your father-" And she crossed a line. "Stop!” he said, hand immediately coming up to point at her in disapproval. “No, I didn’t say you could know that.” The lights began to flicker, a dangerous hum filling the room. Valentina shook her head, scooching even closer. Invading personal space. “Robert, I know everything about you—and I still want you to be my guy! All the bad things you’ve done… and I accept it. I accept you. Isn’t that what you want? To be chosen? No one else sees it. But I do. Not The Avengers. Not those criminals. AND certainly... not Jadis. I see you not her. And I think, Robert, that your past is what makes you so special.”

Bob could've swooned at the feeling of being wanted. She wanted him. Out of all people, she thought he was capable of something greater! The warning Jadis gave him went completely out the window. She was offering him the attention he grew up without. The past that lead him to drugs and bad decisions. This was the second best thing to happen to him as a result of his addiction. Well... that and Jadis. He was picked, wanted, chosen, special, needed, valuable... He was everything he ever wanted to be. And he had to keep it that way.

When Valentina touched him for the first time she fell into it...

THE VOID

Valentina stood in the basement. She recognizes this place. And that man. "Daddy..." She whispers to herself. This moment... A banging on the door. "Stay here. Don't make a sound." Her father had said to her. Her father was always into shady dealings. But this was different. The the emptiness creeping up her spine as she remembered... And then... the bullet. The bullet lodged into her father's chest. The feeling of complete loneliness. The feeling of guilt. The feeling... the feeling of her fathers blood on her palms. The feeling of her fathers corpse gone cold.

Valentina snapped out of it and looked to Bob. "Would you excuse me for a second." She gets up and grabs the S. Sitting in the side table and makes her way to the door. Bob immediately apologizes. "I'm sorry! I.. I.. can control it." Valentina just looked at him with a smile. "Good." Before leaving the S to him and walking out.

Bob clutched the S like it was his life. "You will never become the man she needs. That either of them need." Bob heard the voice in his head go before the lights flicker again. "A power hungry old woman. And an All Powerful VVitch... You're going to fail." This time a laugh follows the voice. "I will be enough for her. And Jadis will see it too. I know she will sh.. she has to." Bob was determined. Become good enough. And maybe there was a chance...

[starleska]

[stepping over the picket fence from my backyard into your backyard, like I’ve learnt anything about Despicable Me or Maxime since my last ask besides it is, indeed, the masc “le Mal” and not the feminine “la Mal”]

Hi, hey, howdy, don't worry about getting to this ask quickly or replying or anything, you take care of yourself, do what you need to do, do what you want to do 💕 I'm going on a thought experiment, a couple of thought experiments. <3 

but I was pondering my orb or taking a four hour nap or whatever you wanna call it and like. Is flustered, needy Maxime a new concept???? Not something that’s been greatly considered????? Bc tbh, he always gave me those vibes. For some reason. Like “Oh yeah, of COURSE he’s clingy and embarrassed and blushy and etc etc”. I’m not even sure why I was so sure but it just felt right. 💖 Surely…I wasn’t…projecting any type of …”personal biases” upon himAHEM so sorry, allergies. 

That big coat is for hiding and he totally can just, dissappear in there and hide from the world. He could pull the coat up and his head in and hope he can cover how read his face is. Like don't look at him rn, he's so vulnerable and uncomfortable about it bc he's used to being so big and impervious, but also don't go away, bc he likes you sm and this is so nice and he loves being adored. But also it's so much!!!!!!!!! Vicious cycle.

I'm a Blushy Needy Maxime truther. Or liar. I'll leave it to the people who've actually seen the movie to decide. Just the bigger the ego, the harder they fall, thats what I always say. Don't fact check that. 

What do you reckon flusters him most? Nice words? Physical affection? Teasing? Gifts? All of the above? I feel like it could be anything. 👀 or maybe it’s none of the above. 

Maybe I underestimate him, maybe he's got better composure than I assume, but every set of armor has a weakness! Anyone can get flustered, Maxime can get flustered, and tbh he probably should get flustered. Where there’s a will there’s a way! …Maybe Valentina would help. Either way I KNOW THAT GUY IS GETTING FLUSTERED I know it 

Accidentally a little overboard with the teasing and flustering and he gets all in a huff, giving the cold shoulder. You gotta say you’re sorry and wrap your arms around him, and in an ideal world he’d hold strong to his grudge until he felt you’ve paid your dues, but he can’t help but melt into your embrace. He compromises, turning back to you, burying his still-hot face into you and refusing to look at you instead. His arms tight around you, not letting you go even long after you assume all is well. His ire is still on you, you know! You owe him a lot for all that trouble you put him through! And besides, he still feels lightheaded from all this blood rushing to his face. You must let him stay in your soft, supportive embrace for just a moment longer. You wouldn’t turn him out now, would you? After you did this to him?  For shame. 

(He is Not intending to let you go anytime soon, he is making up all the excuses)

…hm…I may be talking in circles and not saying much of anything. I also feel like I’ve Greatly Exposed myself today. I gotta go disinfect my ear piercings…I gotta wash my neckties….I gotta refill my mint essential oil diffuser to keep away…the….the bugs…ahem…I gotta make a Pokémon team for Normal Reasons. 

I'm also once again coming to you cold, literally standing next to an actual oven for warmth like a Victorian child when my jacket is on a chair literally just one Maxime away. I’ve Got to GO. I CANT KEEP BEING LET OUT OF CONTAINMENT LIKE THIS. Thank you for listening to my TEDTalk/hostage situation. If anyone asks, I was never here. Take care, you’re great <3 

[Runs away, jumping fences like I committed a crime here.]

not you dropping an entire three course meal and dessert into my askbox, á la mode!!!!!!! 🙈💖💖 for someone who claims they don't know anything about Maxime, you certainly have put a lot of thought into this message...😉

you know, at the time you sent this ask I would've said that flustered, needy Maxime is a new concept, but we've had an amazing wave of art for him over the past week and there's so much of him being all cute and blushy 🙈🙈💖💖 i think it's that he is so easily angered and hates being called cute…he's total fluster-bait!!! we NEED to make him blush 🥺 AAAAA ohhh my god the idea of him wrapping his coat around himself and hiding is so soft!!!! no no you are SO onto something because Maxime is so horribly arrogant and confident, he's a bully who loves the spotlight and desperately wants attention…so wouldn't it be interesting to finally hit that sweet spot and get him wanting to hide? i really do think overt affection like that would make him curl up, and if you did it in a pointed enough way, his face would light up like a traffic light 🥰💖 i think that Maxime is probably really unprepared for anyone who is able to match his energy. he's looking down at you all heavy-lidded, boasting about himself and casually belittling you, but you shoot back with a well-aimed flirtation and it just. hits him like a truck. his cheeks warm, he starts to stammer. he desperately tries to recover, but he's actually looking for an out because he needs to find somewhere to breathe and quiet his beating heart 👀💖 YOU ARE CORRECT Valentina would so get involved!!! you've probably seen us talk about Valentina a bit before, and our wishes that she'd had more dialogue/character development in the movie…but two things that are very canon about Valentina is that she loves cute things, and she also thinks MAXIME is really cute 👉👈 i am certain that behind closed doors those two lavish all kinds of attention on each other, and Valentina turns Maxime tomato-red every time!!!! squealing no no no please don't be embarrassed i LOVE this!!!! gahhhh i adore that quick possessive flip from being so embarrassed and curling in on himself to it being something where he desperately wants to keep you, he can't let you go…!!! oh, my heart 😳😳😳 it's going to sound so silly given all of the stuff i've made for Maxime and being a selfshipper but i adore him so much that i STILL get so incredibly squirmy even trying to imagine any degree of one-on-one discussion with him, let alone contact…!!!! it's taken me a week to answer this ask for exactly that reason 🙈💖 so THANK YOU for fueling my brain i am going to chew through my hoodie sleeves now 😳😳😳 cackles. are we both sufficiently dead now? did you manage to do all of those convenient excuse-related things (including making the Pokémon team which i would LOVE to hear about)? 👀 it's OKAY lovely, open yourself up!!! there are no rules when it comes to loving characters - who says we can't adore many at once?! 🥰 thank you for always sending the loveliest, most interesting asks!! i've been mulling over this one for a hot minute and it's really, really cheered me up after a tough month, so big big hugs 🫂💖💖

[winters-blue-children]

Fic: Bleed Me Honest (Prologue)

Five times John learns about the men who changed Bucky’s life, and one time he realizes he’s one of them.” Or: the story of how this unlikely pair come together. Featuring all of my headcanons about Bucky’s relationships, a jealous, insecure Walker constantly trying to be enough, and a Bucky who’s not quite broken anymore… But sometimes the demons slip out.

AO3

(I haven't written fic in three years. But somehow WinterAgent pulled me back in. Come into my inbox and scream at me about them.)

It starts with an op born out of bad intel, and spirals into chaos the moment boots hit the ground. 

They’re four months into their tenure as the new Avengers. The team is a mess of misfits, trauma, and clashing ego (as Valentina loves to remind them), but they have each other’s backs when it matters. And while none of them are willing to admit it yet, they’re even starting to enjoy each other’s company. Except for maybe Bob, who really just gets along with everyone.

The mission goes sideways fast, and Bucky ends up taking a bullet in the back for his trouble. A high velocity round that tears straight through his tact suit and lodges itself painfully between his lower ribs. It misses his kidney, so he grunts and walks away with barely a flinch. 

“Hey—” John’s voice cuts through the sound of the firefight. “Did you just get hit—”

“I’m fine.” Bucky bites down another grunt of pain before he lifts his weapon, taking aim at the sniper that almost took one of them out. 

They still have work to do. 

They complete their mission by the skin of their teeth, and when they return to the tower—“Great work, guys. I knew you could do it!”—Bucky tries his best to slip away while Bob and Alexei high-five and the Russian tells a loud, exaggerated tale of their newest victory. 

John’s arm hooks under his right as he’s making his getaway. And that’s the side with the throbbing, bloody wound that seeps with every step he takes. 

“Infirmary. Now.” There’s zero room for argument in Walker’s voice. 

Bucky opens his mouth to do it anyway. 

“You should really get that taken care of,” Yelena says casually as she walks by, cutting him off while waving her finger in a circle in his direction. She pulls a face. “It’s really gross. You’re like, dripping on our floor.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and lets John drag him to the med floor. 

He tries not to think about the strong arm that is currently wrapped around his torso, the hard grip on his bicep, or the muscles that he can feel through their bloodied uniforms.  

He tries, anyway. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” John mutters, his voice low against the sharp clatter of the bullet hitting the metal tray. His hands are steady, despite the guilt that shows itself in the furrow of his brow. 

“Yeah, I did,” Bucky says quietly. His head is turned back to watch the other man’s hands as he works. John is methodical and careful as he cleans the wound. His years of experience in the field are clear, and this isn’t his first time tending to an injured comrade. 

Their eyes meet. Blue eyes flicker and the working fingers go still. They’re nice eyes, Bucky thinks. A different blue than the ones he sees in his dreams. A lighter blue. Much like his own. 

John drops his gaze first and presses fresh gauze against the wound as Bucky looks away.

“Sorry,” he says, when Bucky winces from the touch. But Bucky knows he wasn’t just apologizing for that. 

“I’ll be good as new by morning. You know that better than anyone.”

“I’m sorry for—” John shakes his head and looks away. “You took one for me because I wasn’t paying attention. You shouldn’t have had to do that.”

“What are teammates for, John? We have each other’s backs. That’s how this works. That’s the only way this works.”

Walker knows he’s right. He closes his eyes, just for a moment. Closes them so he wouldn’t have to see all the red—on the floor, on Bucky’s discarded uniform, all the gauze soaked in red that litters the area around them… 

The guilt of letting down yet another person cuts him deep. Just like he let down Lemar, a man who trusted him. And he failed again.  

He breathes in deep through his nose, looks back up to stare at the back of Barnes’ head, and puts back on the arrogant mask that he’d spent a whole career perfecting. 

“How the hell were you going to fish a bullet out of your back?” He demands. 

Bucky chuckles and the air lightens between them. 

“I’ve had to do worse.”

John presses down a bandage and adds some extra tape for good measure. The bleeding has stopped. Bucky would be fine by morning. John’s fingers linger a second too long on warm skin, and they both feel it. 

(Later, they would argue over who made the first move. It was Bucky. Despite the man’s protests that they both reached for each other at the same time, they both knew it was Bucky. John’s no coward, but he’s not a moron either. Even he would have been too shit his pants terrified to make a move on Bucky Barnes.)

The kiss is messy and impulsive. A rough clash of lips and teeth, bruising and desperate. Bucky tears at John’s clothes, pushing away the oddly terrifying thought that invades his brain— you’re going to have to explain to Sam that you fucked John Walker.

This is the guy that Bucky hated for holding the shield. Perhaps some of that was undeserved. The pain of losing Steve was too fresh at the time. And John Walker is so much like Steve in so many ways. 

Right now, he chooses to focus on the ways that they’re different. Like the fact that John is here and Steve isn’t. 

He moans into John’s mouth when their hips touch, and he can feel how hard they both are. 

Whatever this is between them, it’s fueled by lust, adrenaline, and a thousand unsaid things between them. 

John’s mind races a thousand miles an hour. Bucky Barnes, he’s kissing Captain America’s Bucky Barnes—The same guy who just took a bullet for you—You weren’t good enough to be Captain America, you’re not good enough now for Bucky—He doesn’t want you—

“Shut up,” Bucky suddenly says, his breath hot against John’s lips.

“What?” John mumbles. 

“I can hear you thinking.”

“Oh,” John says dumbly. “Um…”

“It’s just sex.” Bucky kisses him again, kisses him hard enough to make him weak in the knees. “Don’t overthink it.”

John’s mind is still spinning, trying to keep up, in spite of all the blood rushing south. His mouth opens, gapes, but nothing comes out. 

Bucky tilts his head and studies him. “Do you want to fuck me or not?”

John blinks. “Hell, yes.”

Bucky grins a lopsided smile and thrusts a tube of lubricant into his hands. Fuck, John didn’t even notice him grab it out of the drawer. 

Bucky’s already turning himself around, undoing his belt and pants as he goes. 

Jesus, John was not prepared to fuck a man when he left for the mission today. 

(For months, in the darkness of his own room, he would fantasize about fucking Bucky Barnes while stroking his cock and telling himself if he were just given a chance, just one chance, he could fuck him better than Steve Rogers ever did.)

It’s just sex. 

It’s just sex, he repeats to himself. He’s not going to let anyone down. This is only the man that Steve Rogers fought the entire world to save. From childhood friends, to WWII soldiers, through his record-long captivity in the hands of HYDRA, surviving the fucking blip, and his final pardon. Steve did it all for Bucky Barnes, or so the tabloids say.

They were definitely fucking. And how is John going to compare against Steve in this department?

Close, but no cigar. Probably. 

John doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing, but he’s a fast study. Always has been. He starts with his fingers, and when Bucky whimpers against the infirmary bed that he’s bent over, John knows that he’s doing something right. 

When he presses himself in, feels himself enveloped by Bucky’s achingly tight heat, he has to squeeze his eyes shut just to stop himself from thrusting or coming. The vibranium hand reaches back, grips his hip hard enough to leave bruises on a super soldier. 

John’s not a small guy. He knows this and the way Bucky pants and trembles confirms it. 

The vibranium hand relaxes and drops, and then John makes it his mission to fuck Barnes so well, he wouldn’t know his own name when asked. 

(Like maybe if he does a decent enough job of it, Bucky will let him do it again.) 

John chases after every gasp, whimper, and moan. Whatever he does to make Bucky shudder and push his ass back for more, he does it again and again and again. 

He can be generous. He just wants to give Bucky what he needs. 

“Fuck, that’s good,” Bucky groans and pushes back again. “That’s so good, fuck, John—”

His name spilling from Bucky’s lips is somehow the hottest thing he’s every heard. Unbelievably, it makes his cock even harder and he sinks back in deeper than before.

“Say my name again,” he growls. “Say it again.”

And Bucky does. “John, John, please—fuck me, fuck me harder, John, you’re gonna make me come—”

John reaches below their bodies to fist his cock—already dripping. He groans as he keeps pistoning his hips. Neither of them are going to last much longer.

Bucky spills into his hand and his body gives out, collapsing onto the bed beneath him. And John follows heavily as he comes deep inside him.    

He sags against Bucky’s back. 

The afterglow is sweet but brief. John pulls back. And tries not to stare when he sees his cum dripping out of the other man’s ass. 

He’s suddenly aware of the other man’s injury and hopes that he wasn’t too rough on him. There’s no blood seeping through the bandage at least. 

Bucky takes a solid minute to recover. And in that minute, John glows with pride because he did that to Bucky Barnes.

He finally lifts himself up and turns, looking well fucked out and completely satisfied. "You did alright, Walker," Bucky drawls. 

Something deep in his stomach warms and John can’t help but smile. Like he finally managed to do something right. He snorts. "Coming from you, that's practically a love letter."

Bucky grins, one that shows teeth.

Yeah. John really likes seeing Bucky smile.

They don’t talk about it afterward. 

But it happens again.

Another mission. Tension, adrenaline, and a locked gaze in the corridor outside of Bucky’s room. 

And again. After a training session, when blood is already rushing fast, and their bodies are too close, running too hot, and there’s a mutual understanding that they make each other feel good when there’s too little of that in their lives alone. 

There’s no label to it. No promises.

They don’t talk about it. 

It works. For now. 

[val-of-the-dark]

Hello, dear visitors!

Pleasure to meet all of you. You may call us Val — as in Valerie, Valentine or Valencia — and we are an owner of a new fashionable dining location called "EGO" (Soho, London).

As of recently we have learnt that it is much more convenient now to keep in touch and make new acquaintances through social networks. Well, honestly? We have never had any problem talking to someone without seeing their face (pun intended). So...

This blog is our first attempt in trying to find new connections: business, social or otherwise! Feel free to interact or ask questions. Just write anything and throw it in the sea- sorry, the mailbox.

Moderator notes:

this is a TMA (the Magnus Archives) RP blog for an OC: Valentina Alenko, an avatar of the Dark, some may already know them as ⚫️ anon;

Val is an adult, and so am I: underage mods, please keep this in mind when enganging in conversations containing sensitive topics or elements of NSFW;

I will try to make this blog as NSFW-free as possible, but... it's TMA we're talking about, so be wary;

Val uses they/them pronouns and "we" instead of "I" (for a reason), I use they/them as well;

romance is allowed but is quite unlikely, friendship is very encouraged;

you can send questions for me as well, mod answers will be marked with "//ooc:" and will have no TMA tag for convenience;

OC answers will be marked with a special OC tag: #tma val ask blog — feel free to block it if you are tired of this blog appearing on your feed;

my main blog is @deer-hearted, there is literally no TMA content there, but you can find some if you're interested in: Gravity Falls, Rick and Morty, The Raven Cycle, Homestuck, Pyre;

me and my OC both love cats. (:

I also sometimes post OC lore here, go check it out if you're interested! This information is meta, please, do not bring it into conversations unless the character has already shared some of it with you. The exception would be, of course, the Eye servants. You are allowed to be nosy by the narrative. (:

[musingmemories]

He’s secure.

In more ways than one.

And safe enough for Yelena to jolt from sleep, surprised to find she’d actually committed to dozing off, dark room’s only light nothing but the TV screen’s logo slowly, agonizingly, bouncing around in screensaver mode, movie they’d picked and bonded over never having seen before finished. It told Yelena she’d been asleep long enough for the streaming service to automatically shut off and TV go quiet.

Quiet, the place was. Shockingly, given her newest, rowdiest, and most unhinged roommates. With one exception, and Bob was here safely tucked against her. Yelena smiles softly at his sleeping face, absentmindedly letting nimble fingers gently reach out to brush away stray curled strands. This was the reason why she hadn’t been afraid of him. His gentleness and innocence, lost and trying to wade above suffocating darkness just like her. Felt like an electric shock when spring colored orbs met ones of slate painted teal that pierced her soul, seeing her. Knowing her. That familiar longing… and loneliness.

Yelena shifts, about to fetch him the blanket, and her movements must’ve made him stir because she stops when a soft mumble reaches her ears. Bob’s voice carries a plea, a sound similar to her own, the wish that people would stay. Just a little longer. They’re curled up on the sofa, high above the world in what used to be Avengers Tower. Newly renovated and their new home… ironic too given their title — brand — as a group. Strange, the adjustment, and Yelena didn’t do well sleeping in unfamiliar places. Hell, she didn’t do well sleeping regardless. And after seeing her past with such clarity that it was like seeing it all for the first time again? Acceptance was a road she was currently navigating.

“Yeah.” Cleared throat, rousing sleep from it. “Yeah, I’ll stay. As long as you need.” She leans back in, comfortably, rest and peace something Yelena’s chased for a long time and somehow found in the strangest way possible. Maybe Bob had found it too, which was why they’d both fallen asleep so easily in each other’s presence. “I’ve been told I make a comfy pillow, or a strong weighted blanket because of my size. I found the reason for that one offensive but for you? I might make an exception.” A natural motion, Yelena had taken Bob’s hand in comfort. A constant tether. Established when she clung to him to pull him off his alter ego. ‘I’m here.’

“You know… meeting a man fresh out of a box… not something I thought would be a first. Or maybe Captain America when my sister became an Avenger… but no, it was you.” Just before they’d been fighting for their lives to get out of Valentina’s vault, seconds from being set on fire, nothing left but melted skin and bones. “You okay? Any nightmares?”

@av0id sent: ❝ don’t go. just a little longer, okay? ❞ ( Robert ‘Bob’ Reynolds to Yelena Belova )

[acheel-and-cat]

My thought on Thunderbolts:

Spoilers below the cut

I loved the psychological aspect of this movie, that was awesome. It was so cool to actually delve into mental health topics. Also the action and fighting was great. Super epic.

Definitely love how awful Valentina was, love to hate her character, I cannot wait to see what the Thunderbolts are going to inflict on her.

They should not be called the "New Avengers" the name itself sounds stupid like they're trying to be something they're not. Also since Sam is Captain America shouldn't it be his call on if there's another Avengers? He was quite literally an Avenger, yes? And he's one of the only surviving members still being a hero and trying to form a team. Last time I checked he has way more jurisdiction than Valentina. But by calling themselves the "New Avengers" it feels like they're trying to fill shoes that aren't right for them, like at all. It's not that the shoes are too big, it's just the completely wrong shoes. It's like a construction worker attempting to work in heels. I would rather them stick with Thunderbolts.

I really liked how Bob fighting himself in the lab didn't work at first because he was isolating himself and he felt he had to do it alone. I just loved the theme of togetherness in this movie, I cried twice.

I also really liked how the end had Bob just chilling and reading, like he learned his limits and doesn't want to do that again so he's just not, and I'm glad most of them seem to respect that.

I kinda figured there would be a John Walker redemption arc but also I'm so glad they gave him shit like the entire movie cause he needed his ego deflated and he never really had that happen during The Falcon and The Winter Soldier like yeah he doesn't get to be Cap but he still got to fight people as a job and he didn't go to jail or anything so I'm really glad he suffered some.

TL;DR: Loved the movie, but the last few minutes and post credits sucked. Sam is rightfully pissed and they are not the New Avengers to me.

(There's probably more I want to say but I can't think of it right now, we'll see. Also, feel free to add your own thoughts, whether you agree or disagree, I love seeing other people's thoughts.)