#but until then I have to sit with...whatever this is

[helaintoloki]

For Better or For Worse

pairing: Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader

warnings: MAJOR SPOILERS, angst, themes of trauma, mentions of violence, mentions of pregnancy, eventual fluff, bucky and reader working out their marriage problems

notes: so i actually first started working on this piece a month before the movie came out and wasn’t able to complete it until i actually saw the film. there will be some inaccuracies since it’s purely based off memory but i hope you guys enjoy!

summary: You want a divorce, but Bucky needs your help for one last mission. Luckily, marriage is all about compromise

The court issued papers fill Bucky with unease as the two of you sit at the dining table in silence. Neither of you has said a word since you presented the documents to him when he returned from his office, and his gaze has been glued to the petition for a painfully long amount of time. The legal jargon doesn’t catch his attention, but one word has stuck out from the rest and branded itself at the forefront of his mind.

Divorce.

These papers are meant to finalize your divorce.

“I just need your signature,” you prompt him quietly after taking a nervous swallow. You try to remain poised, but Bucky knows you well enough to detect your anxious tells- the way your leg bounces nervously under the table while your right hand absently tries to fidget with a ring that isn’t there. He sighs and allows himself to sink back further into his chair while he attempts to organize the amalgamation of thoughts swirling in his mind.

“This is what you really want?” Bucky asks gently, tone devoid of judgement or resentment and instead filled with quiet defeat.

“Are you kidding? I don’t want this at all,” you insist miserably, unable to stop yourself from reaching for his hand across the table. “I love you, Bucky. More than anything. But we haven’t been on the same page in years.”

“Of course we’re on the same page,” he stresses incredulously as if it’s ridiculous to believe otherwise. “We love each other, we’ll do whatever it takes to keep each other safe, we’re a team.”

A disappointed frown takes hold of your features as you carefully pull your hand away. Your eyes are full of sorrow and grief for your failing marriage, and Bucky doesn’t understand why his words have garnered such a reaction from you. He asked you to be his wife out of love and complete adoration for the woman who had risked everything to help him become the man he is today. Wasn’t that enough?

“When we got married, you promised me we’d retire and start our lives somewhere quiet away from all the danger. We’d do the whole white picket fence thing and grow old together, maybe start a family now that all the super hero stuff was behind us. But then Sam needed our help, and I didn’t mind suiting up again for a friend.“

“Of course you didn’t,” Bucky affirms with a faint smile, heart nearly bursting with pride at the mere thought of your selflessness. Steve had once said your compassionate heart could melt even the toughest of soldiers, and Bucky had been no exception when first meeting you.

“I thought that would be our final send off, but then came Valentina, then your congressional campaign, and now the impeachment. It never ends, Bucky,” you say emphatically, exhaustion and defeat present in your tone. Quieter now, you let your eyes fall back to the documents and swallow back your tears before continuing, “I’m starting to realize now that there never will be a house with a white picket fence.”

“Y/n, come on,” Bucky pleads earnestly, “of course there will be. Just give me some time-“

“That’s what you always say,” you point out with a smile that fails to reach your eyes. Your husband is desperate to change your mind, the panic evident in his features as he scrambles to make things right before it’s too late.

“I can change.”

“If you can honestly look me in the eyes and promise me your days of fighting are over, I’ll shred the papers myself.”

A heavy silence follows your words, and you sit expectantly as you wait for him to make a move. Bucky’s eyes wander to every corner of the room, analyze every speck of dust that lands on the table, but they’re never once able to look into your own. You know you have your answer, and Bucky knows there is no changing your mind now.

“I’ll still help you find evidence for Valentina’s impeachment,” you assure him numbly, your fingers absently fidgeting with the buttons on your shirt. “I’ll help you organize your argument and figure out the next step, but you’re on your own after that.”

“About that…” Bucky utters guiltily, looking at you like a dog caught with its tail between its legs. Your brows furrow slightly in confusion before your shoulders slump in disappointment. You know what’s coming, and you know you’re not going to like it.

“What did you do this time?”

“The evidence I’m looking for, it’s not a paper trail or the location to some facility. It’s… people,” Bucky admits with a wince, sinking further back into his chair when he notes the frustration evident in your features.

“Oh my god, Bucky!” You exclaim in exasperation. “What do you mean it’s people?!”

Bucky hates seeing you angry, especially when your anger is directed towards him, but he desperately tries to extinguish the flames before they can get worse.

“Valentina sent people to cover her tracks- contract agents.”

“And who are the agents?” you press him, annoyance clear in your tone. He winces, clearly not looking forward to admiting the truth to you.

“John Walker, Ava Star, and Yelena Belova… But y/n, I swear to you, I had no idea about her involvement when I asked for your help taking Valentina down,” Bucky insists honestly in response to the ire clear on your features, hoping you’ll understand his point of view. Of course he didn’t mean to disrespect your wishes, but it had all happened so fast he hadn’t been given an opportunity to right it.

“Natasha was my best friend, and I promised if anything happened to her I’d keep an eye on Yelena in her place,” you remind him indignantly with an irritated huff. Bucky lets his head hang in shame. “You realize you’re asking me to go back on my word by going after her, right?”

“I know… and I’m sorry. But this is important. The fate of the world could be at stake.”

“It always is,” you mutter testily. Bucky sighs.

“Look, just… before I become a divorced middle aged man, can you just go on this one last mission with me? Think of it as a final send off,” Bucky coaxes with a nervous smile. “And when all is said and done I’ll sign the papers.”

You pull your lips back into a thin line as you stare down the man sitting across from you. You’re not exactly pleased with this entire situation, but a part of you knows you’d feel horrible turning your back on him when he needed you most. Despite your impending divorce, you still loved Bucky with your entire being, and you always would have his best interests at heart no matter the case.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me,” you curse under your breath, more directed at yourself than at Bucky. “I know I’m going to hate myself for this, but I’ll help you.”

The relief that washes over Bucky’s face is almost rewarding, but you try not to let yourself get too caught up in the fantasy. You still aren’t an Avenger, and going on a life threatening mission isn’t going to magically fix the problems in your marriage. You’re simply doing this as a favor to the man you love, and you’re adamant about not letting yourself fall in too deep.

You only hope Bucky keeps good on his promise to you because he can’t afford to break any more.

~~~

You carefully pull the zipper of your suit closed before taking a step back to catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Despite years of inactivity, it still fits you like a second skin, and you hate it. The last time you’d suited up had been to stop the Flag Smashers, and when it was over you swore to yourself you’d never put it on again. You’d shoved it towards the very back of your closet hoping to forget it existed, and yet here you stood being haunted by your past in spite of how hard you’d worked to separate yourself from your life as an Avenger.

“You look good,” Bucky compliments from behind you, figure leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest as he takes in the sight of you. He desperately wants to cross the room and pull you against him, hold you by the hips and pour all of his gratitude for your help into a kiss, but he refrains. He doesn’t want to cross any boundaries, but he isn’t exactly sure how to act around his soon-to-be ex-wife. The air is awkward with uncertainty and tense with your anger at having been dragged into this mess, but neither of you dare make note of it.

“I look like an Avenger,” you mutter dryly before pushing past him in search of your boots. “Now tell me again what the plan is.”

“Thanks to Valentina’s assistant I have their location. There’s an abandoned mechanic shop along the way, and you’re going to wait for me there while I bring them in. All I need you to do is help me keep them in line and present the evidence at the hearing.”

“Doing all the dirty work?” You muse with a raised brow. “How noble of you.”

“I know you don’t want to be here, so I’m trying to keep you out of the action as much as possible,” Bucky avows with a sigh, making a move to reach out for your hand only to quickly pull it back. If you notice his slip up you say nothing of it, only holding his gaze as he continues, “I can’t promise this won’t go sideways because it very well could, but I’ll have your back just like I always do.”

Your hard exterior softens at his confession, and you find your eyes quickly darting to the floor to avoid his burning stare. Your heart tightens in your chest with despair as you’re reminded of the fact that despite your impending divorce, you love him with your entire being. Bucky has been by your side for years, and you’re terrified of what life will be like without him as your partner, but you keep reminding yourself that it’s for the best. There isn’t a future there anymore, and you’re tired of living a life of fighting. You’re no longer compatible, and the sooner you accept it the better off you’ll be.

“You should go,” you urge, abruptly ending the tender moment he’d created. “If what Mel says is true about them escaping then they probably already have a target on their heads. You need to get to them first.”

Nodding in understanding, Bucky bids you goodbye by placing an awkward hand on your shoulder. It isn’t very subtle by any means, but the gesture has you cracking the smallest of smiles at the man. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Be careful, James,” you say quietly, a hint of vulnerability shining through your tone. Despite the front you out on, your eyes always give you away. Bucky can note the worry in them, the love you hold for the man you married all those years ago. He knows it’s naive of him to think a woman who’s always been so strong willed would ever change her mind after it’s already been made up, but he really hopes he won’t have to sign those papers when you finally get home.

“Always am for you,” he replies with a faint smile, unable to stop himself from gently brushing his knuckles against your jaw the way he knows you like. Your eyes flutter shut almost on instinct form the contact, and in spite of your better judgement you find yourself missing the feel of his touch when he pulls away and leaves you to your own devices.

As planned, you drive yourself to the mechanic shop and sit in wait for Bucky to return with the agents. You’re restless trying to find ways to keep yourself busy in his absence- stretching, unloading and reloading your gun, scrolling through the latest news articles regarding Valentina’s impeachment. You appreciate Bucky’s want to respect your wishes as much as he can in the situation you find yourselves in, but you feel useless not being part of the action. The quiet leaves you with nothing but your thoughts, and all you can focus on is your broken relationship.

Where had it gone wrong? When was the moment it finally occurred to you that you weren’t happy? Were you making a mistake?

Your agonizing rumination is interrupted by the sound of the front doors slamming open. You quickly rise from your place on the work bench and watch as the disheveled group is ushered in by your husband. Hands bound and defeat clear on their faces, you think it’s safe to say the rest of this mission should be easy enough.

“It cannot be,” a voice utters in awe, prompting you to turn your inquisitive gaze towards the man with the unkempt beard and red suit. “It is y/n Barnes! The Avenger!”

You shift awkwardly at the feeling of all eyes now focused on you and offer a meager wave of your fingers in response to the man. Bucky simply rolls his eyes and forces the group to sit before reinforcing their restraints so they can’t escape. You find your gaze subtly shifting to the blonde woman seated a few feet across from you, chest tightening at her mere presence. You don’t know her personally, but you’d heard endless stories about her from Natasha when she was still alive. She’s different from what you pictured, but there’s no doubt in your mind that this is Yelena.

“Y/n, great to see you again,” John greets with an airy grin despite currently being bound with a metal rod. You hold back a laugh when Bucky forcefully tightens the restraints in annoyance at hearing the man attempt to start a friendly rapport with you. It’s clear your husband still isn’t a fan of Walker, not that you blame him considering what you’d been through with the man.

“Wish I could say the same,” you hum with a subtle shrug. “I’m just here to help clean up Bucky’s mess.”

“And what mess would that be?” Ava prompts with a grunt after Bucky tests her restraints.

“Whatever mess I need to make to prove Valentina’s guilty,” Bucky answers for you. “You guys are the evidence, so you’re going to march into that impeachment hearing with me and tell the board everything you know.”

“No, no, see, we don’t work for Valentina anymore,” Yelena interjects despite Bucky’s skeptical glare. “We actually are working together to take her down.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that?” Bucky scoffs.

“She’s telling the truth, Bucky,” John interjects, and while the Winter Soldier doesn’t seem interested in what they have to say, you are.

“What’s really going on then?” You ask, inquisitive gaze meeting Yelena’s frenzied blue eyes.

“Valentina was going to incinerate us, but then we met Bob and escaped.”

“Bob?” Bucky retorts in disbelief.

“Yes, Bob! We thought he was just some weird guy, but it turns out he can fly which would have been good to know when we were stuck in that elevator and-“

“Okay, okay, enough. You can say whatever you want but it’s not going to work.”

“Bucky,” you call gently, his features immediately softening at the sound of his name falling from your lips. You shift closer to the man and lower your voice to a hushed whisper before speaking, “I don’t think they’re lying.”

“What? Of course they are!” He scoffs indignantly, prompting you to roll your eyes in response. “You expect me to believe a story about some guy named Bob?”

“I expect you to be impartial. Isn’t that kind of your thing, Mr. Congressman?” You rebuff sarcastically much to the man’s chagrin. “The least you can do is hear them out.”

“I think you should listen to her,” Alexei pipes innocently, only serving to agitate the man further. However, before he can offer a rebuttal the sound of his phone ringing interrupts your conversation. You watch your husband shoot him a warning glance before answering the call.

“Hey,” another voice calls, prompting you to shift your focus onto Yelena. “Are you really an Avenger?”

“Retired,” you correct her with a faint smile.

“But you were one,” she insists, “and if you were then… you knew my sister.”

You feel your chest tighten immediately at the mention of Natasha, the air around you suddenly becoming thick with tension as all eyes land on you. You shift uncomfortably on your feet and cross your arms defensively over your chest before offering a single nod of acknowledgement to her statement. By the look on her face you know she wants to ask you more, but your conversation is interrupted by the sound of Bucky’s exasperated voice.

“Valentina was working on something called Project Sentry?” He retorts, catching the attention of your hostages. “A guy named Bob?”

“Yes, Bob!” All four exclaim indignantly at finally being proven right. You hold back a laugh and instead give him a pointed look as he finally hangs up his phone and sighs.

“Alright, change of plans. I’m going to stop Valentina, and you guys are coming with me.”

“Wait, us?” Yelena retorts in uncertainty.

“Yeah, you,” Bucky replies with a raised brow. “Why? You got some place to be?”

“Bucky,” you interject pointedly, grabbing onto his arm and pulling him aside to create some semblance of privacy from the others. “What the hell are you doing? You said we were just gathering evidence, not risking our lives fighting against some super powered experiment.”

“That was before I learned she’d created a literal human weapon,” he rebuttals with an exasperated wave of his hands. “I told you things might get messy, but we can handle it. We always have.”

“You seem to forget that I don’t want to handle it,” you remind him pointedly. “I’m here because I care about you, because I love you too much to leave you hanging, but this isn’t my life anymore.”

“You think it doesn’t kill me to ask for your help?” Bucky prompts gently, unable to help himself from fervently taking your hands in his own. “You think throwing you into a dangerous mission at the last second isn’t gnawing at my entire conscious right now? I know what’s at stake here, and I know you don’t owe me anything, but we have to do this. You know we do.”

You pull your lips into a thin line and shift your gaze to the ground as you contemplate his words. You’d told him you were done with fighting, even decided to end your marriage because of it, but you knew he had a point. You couldn’t exactly retire if the world was left in ruins, and you also knew you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if something happened to Bucky because you chose to bail on him instead of seeing your final mission together through.

The feel of his hand gently squeezing your own brings you out of your thoughts and back to the present. You allow him to gently lift your chin with his metal hand so that he can meet your eyes, causing your heart to leap in your chest at the intimate gesture. You haven’t been this close to him since you professed your desire to end the marriage, but the man still has a way of softening your hard exterior with ease.

“You know I would never let anything happen to you,” he utters softly, “so I need you to trust me.”

Your lips pull into a slight pout as you fight within yourself to resist melting into his touch. You shouldn’t still be this attached to a man you’re about to divorce, but you love him, and that’s what makes this is all so complicated.

Finally, you let out a sigh and solemnly reply, “I trust you, and I’m going to help you see this through to the end because no matter what we’re partners.”

“Partners,” Bucky repeats fondly, chest swelling with pride at the notion. You may no longer be husband and wife, but at its core your relationship is one of teamwork and trust. Retired Avenger or not, you’ll always be there for Bucky when he needs you.

Because in spite of the legal documents sitting on your coffee table back at home, you still love him with your entire being.

And that terrifies you.

~~~

You feel the ground jostle beneath you as Bucky drives over another pothole. You’re not exactly the most comfortable stuck in the loading bed of the truck the team decided to steal, but Alexei had been so excited to ride shotgun with the Winter Soldier that you didn’t have it in you to protest. Besides, it was something you’d have to start getting used to now since ending your marriage also meant ending your passenger seat privileges.

Yelena, John, and Ava proudly boast their weaponry, but you’re too lost in thought to register any part of their conversation. Bucky had been vague when revealing the details of where Valentina’s Watchtower was located, and you knew him well enough to figure out when he was hiding something from you. You had no idea what secret he was keeping, but you had a feeling you weren’t going to like what was waiting for you at the end of this drive.

You feel a nudge against your boot and look up to find the three now staring at you expectantly. You blink in surprise before asking, “Were you saying something?”

“Are you really Bucky’s wife like John says?” Ava prompts with intrigue.

“I… technically still am, yes,” you reply with a careful nod, fingers already beginning to search for your missing ring on instinct.

“What do you mean by that?” John questions with furrowed brows. You shoot him a glare and awkwardly shift in your seat, not exactly thrilled at your personal life being put on the spot by people you’ve only known for a few hours.

“We’re getting a divorce,” you state bluntly in an attempt to simply rip the bandage right off. The man looks stunned, and the air has now suddenly become thick with awkward tension.

“Did not see that coming,” he breathes out remorsefully, clearly regretting having asked in the first place. “How could you be getting a divorce? The last time I saw you two you couldn’t spend more than five seconds away from each other.”

“It’s complicated, and no offense but I’m not about to get into my marriage problems with a truck full of strangers,” you snark defensively. He raises his hands in surrender and says nothing more, but your mood has effectively been ruined.

“I have a question,” Yelena pipes up with an innocent raise of her hand. “If you say you’re retired, then why are you helping us?”

“Because I can’t exactly retire if Valentina blows the world up with her bullshit,” you explain with a harsh exhale. Then, features softening, you utter, “and I couldn’t live with myself if I let innocent people get hurt because I chose not to help them.”

“God, you sound like an Avenger,” Ava scoffs in detestation, “so selfless and kind. How’d someone like you become the Winter Soldier’s wife?”

You smile faintly at the question, chest filling with warmth as your mind drifts back to all those years ago when you’d first met Bucky. Despite how things are now, you don’t think you’d change any of it.

You had just worked your way up to becoming an agent for S.H.I.E.L.D. when Pierce pulled you aside for a ‘special’ assignment. Too naive to question why he’d want to trust a rookie with an important job, you followed orders and went to the designated coordinates full of excitement for your first job. You had no idea he was setting you up to run into the Winter Soldier so he could see your potential firsthand. You barely survived the fight, and Bucky probably would have killed you if they hadn’t called it off, but Pierce decided then that you would be his new pet project. You were sworn to secrecy after being threatened with your life, and you didn’t dare try to resist.

You trained mercilessly under the watchful guidance of the Winter Soldier, pushed to your breaking point nearly every day until you were deemed ready to join him on missions. You became his shadow, following his every move and making it your own. Eventually, you were trusted to tend to him after assignments as well- cleaning his wounds, calming him into submission, tending to whatever need he had. In a strange sort of way you were partners, and he came to respect you as an individual instead of viewing you as a subordinate. You became close, too close for Pierce’s liking, and the man decided you no longer fit into his plans.

Bucky had been ordered to kill you the next time you were sent on an assignment together, but the plan was thankfully intercepted by the arrival of Captain America and Black Widow. The entire operation had blown up thanks to their efforts, and you were freed, but your companion was nowhere to be found. The Avengers took you in as their own, and in that time you struggled to accept that the man you’d grown so close to had left you behind.

Your paths crossed once more in the wake of the Sokovia Accords, and though your reunion had initially been uncomfortably awkward, you soon were able to fall back into your old routine. Your partnership became friendship, and when you chose to stay behind with him in Wakanda it evolved into a relationship of unwavering love and support. You helped each other work through what Hydra had put you through, understood each other in a way no one else did, and promised to be by one another’s side for the rest of time.

The trio is captivated by your story, and you find yourself falling quiet as you realize such a promise can no longer be kept. Your marriage is ending, and eventually you’ll go back to being strangers once more. You sniffle, awkwardly clearing your throat as you realize you’d become more vulnerable than you intended to be with the group. Their solemn gazes burn your skin in a way that’s suffocating, and you wish they’d just move on from the topic already.

“I know it’s not my place,” John begins, filling you with trepidation and unease, “but it sounds like you’re making a mistake.”

“Excuse me?”

“Look, I don’t know the full story, but it’s obvious you still love him. You shouldn’t give up so easily-“

“You know what, John? You’re right,” you retort bitterly, tone dripping with sarcasm, “it’s not your place. In fact, you’re the last person I’d take marriage advice from, so why don’t we just keep our opinions to ourselves.”

The man’s features fall at your harsh comment, and while you’d normally feel remorse for snapping at someone so quickly all you feel is anger at yourself. You know his words hold some truth to them; you still love Bucky, and you want nothing more than to stay married, but neither of you can seem to reach an agreement that suits both of your needs. He can’t live a life of inaction, and you can’t give up on the picket fence dream, so what the hell are you supposed to do?

The rest of the truck ride is quiet, and no one dares to ask anymore questions about your marriage.

~~~

You understand now why Bucky seemed to be so avoidant about disclosing the location of Valentina’s new base. How was he supposed to tell you that the new building she’d acquired was the one you once called home?

Your entire body feels on edge as you squeeze into the elevator and watch the doors close as you begin to move towards the top floor. It’s been years since you stepped foot in this building, but you still know every turn and corner like the back of your hand. Memories of the past haunt you like ghosts, causing your chest to ache with nostalgia and longing for a time that had long since passed. Your days as a fresh faced recruit had been so simple and safe; you hadn’t experienced real tragedy yet, and you were protected in the little bubble you lived in as an Avenger. Everything had changed so quickly, and you still found yourself struggling to pick up the pieces.

“Hey,” Bucky’s voice whispers gently, hand coming to rest comfortingly on the small of your back, “you okay?”

“I don’t know,” you answer truthfully. You feel like you’re in a daze, and you’re not sure how you’re supposed to handle being thrusted back to your past. “I never thought I’d come back here.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before,” he murmurs sincerely. “I know I should have, but I thought it might overwhelm you.”

Too lost in anxious thought, you absently reach for his hand just as you’ve done numerous times in the past and hold on tightly to ground yourself. Though he’s surprised by the action, he’s able to respond by giving your hand a gentle squeeze back.

“I’m here,” he promises you. You swallow thickly and give him a small nod, bracing yourself as the elevator doors finally open to the top floor.

Your hand never leaves Bucky’s as you cautiously step forward and begin to scan the room. You can see that Valentina has taken the liberty of redesigning the place, but the layout is still identical. You can almost see yourself sitting on the couch watching Tony attempt to lift Thor’s hammer, having a talk with Steve on the balcony after a rough day of training, lounging at the bar counter begging Natasha to show you how to make her signature cocktail.

Some of your happiest memories are permanently embedded in this building, but that all fades away at the sight of Valentina pouring herself a glass of champagne right where you pictured Natasha to be.

“Took you guys long enough,” she jests coyly before making her way around the island counter. “What do you think? This place certainly wasn’t cheap, but I think it’ll do just fine. God, can you imagine the glorious battles that took place in this very room? I know you can, y/n.”

You tense at her observation and feel your lips curl into an irritated scowl at her blatant disrespect. It takes everything in you not to lunge at the woman, and if not for Bucky still tightly grasping your hand you’d be in the midst of throwing a right hook.

“This ends today,” Bucky warns her lowly as your group begins to surround the woman. Each and every one of you has a bone to pick with her, and you’re eager to finally bring her to justice and get this whole thing over with.

“Congressman Barnes, wow,” she greets with feigned surprise. “You know, I never really thought you’d have a promising political career, but less than half a term? Yikes.”

You take a step towards her only for Bucky to pull you back, causing the woman to let out an amused huff through her nose. Her smug demeanor and careless need to insult your husband has you fuming, but that’s exactly what she wants. Valentina knows how to get under someone’s skin, and you fair no better to her mind games than anyone else.

“Mrs. Barnes,” she greets cordially with an air of false sweetness, “I can still call you that, right? Congratulations on the impending divorce. I gotta say, I like you much better as an Avenger than a housewife.”

“Retired Avenger,” you correct her through gritted teeth. “This suit’s coming off as soon as we kick your ass.”

“You know, I never understood why you two were together, but I’m starting to see it now.”

“We’re taking you in, Val,” John interrupts only for the woman to chuckle in response.

“I don’t think so, junior varsity Captain America.”

He immediately reaches for his gun, and though you’re interested to see where this will go Bucky is quick to interject and have the blond stand down. She hums, clearly unthreatened, and turns her attention to the other two women in the room.

“Oh, nice to see you, Ava. Yelena,” she pauses while looking the Widow up and down, “you look awful. Are you sure you’re really ready for that public facing role you asked me about.”

“Eat shit, Valentina,” Yelena says bluntly before taking a menacing step towards her. “Where’s Bob?”

Despite being clearly outnumbered, Valentina remains calm and sure of herself as she takes another drink from her glass of champagne. “Look at you, you all are so adorable. Just think, I send you down there to kill each other, and instead you make nice and form a team.”

The circle around her grows tighter, and you watch on edge as Bucky takes a step towards the woman with his hand aiming for her throat. However, an invisible force prevents him from moving any closer, prompting your group to look between each other unsurely.

“Oh, I’m not alone,” she explains apologetically before glancing towards the stairs. It’s then that a new face enters the room, and you watch with uncertainty as a blond man in a golden suit slowly makes his descent down the stairway.

“Bob?” Yelena calls skeptically. After everything you’d heard from the group, the man before you is certainly the last person you’d ever expect to be the Bob they’d discussed.

“His name is Sentry,” Valentina corrects, “and he’s my get out of jail free card. Once I bring him to the impeachment trial they’re sure to let me keep my job. In fact, I’ll be able to protect the American people in the way I see fit.“

“That’s never going to work,” you argue indignantly. “They’d have to be crazy to give you full control.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Valentina coos mockingly before turning to Bob. “Sentry, these people are criminals and a danger to the American public. I need you to dispose of them for me.”

You carefully rest your hand on the handle of your gun, watching intently as the man looks from your group to Valentina. You have no idea what he’s capable of or how this fight is going to turn out, but you’re ready to do whatever it takes to make sure you get to go home after all is said and done.

“I don’t want to,” Bob says uncomfortably, “they’re not a threat to me so why should I have to fight them? I don’t want to hurt anybody.”

Despite his hesitance to complete Valentina’s request and Yelena’s insistence for the group to back off, a fight soon breaks out between Sentry and your team with Alexei being the first to throw a punch. You assume that with the numbers on your side you’ll be able to defeat him with ease, but you couldn’t be more wrong. The hero is essentially indestructible, and every punch you throw or bullet you fire doesn’t so much as leave a scratch.

You barely manage to miss getting toppled over by Ava after she’s thrown across the room, rolling out of the way and landing next to Bucky who looks rightfully frazzled. You can tell he hadn’t been expecting this either, but the fact that you’re currently on the same page brings you little comfort.

“I have a plan,” you pant breathlessly while picking yourself up off the floor. “You distract him from the front and I’ll creep up from behind.”

“You really think that’s going to work?” He breathes, watching as you pull your knife from your thigh holster.

“Only one way to find out,” you reply with an easygoing shrug despite the dread that’s pooling in your stomach at the thought of this going wrong. While you’d initially joined this mission due to the fact that you couldn’t retire if the world was in danger, you’re starting to realize now that you can’t retire if you’re dead either. You just hope this works.

Bucky gives you a single nod before sprinting full speed at Bob, allowing you a window of opportunity to creep up behind him. You grip the handle of your knife tightly in your hand before lunging forward and driving the blade into his neck, but to your horror the impact causes the metal to crumple in on itself. Your knife falls to the floor with a deafening clatter, and suddenly Sentry’s focus is on you as his hardened gaze closes in on your terrified face.

His hand shoots out before you can react, fingers closing around your throat as he slowly lifts you off the ground. Your hands desperately claw at his arm while your feet try to kick him away, but he doesn’t even budge. His gaze is cold and unfeeling, as if your pathetic gasps for air are but a mere nuisance to him. You can feel the world fading around you as he tightens his grip, and you can’t help but to think how poetic it would be for you to die here in the tower.

“Let her go!” Bucky growls before pulling out his gun and relentlessly firing at the superhuman. He’s panicking. He can see the fight slowly starting to die within you, but he’s not about to let you be taken from him so easily.

“Fine,” Sentry utters unpityingly before carelessly throwing your body across the room like a rag doll. You slam into the wall behind the bar counter, bottles of liquor shattering from the impact and digging into your skin as you drop to the ground in a heap of broken glass. Bucky’s eyes widen in panic before turning sharp with unbridled rage. His chest is tight with an anger he hasn’t felt since his time as the Winter Soldier, and all he can see is red as he pulls off his jacket and tosses it to the side.

Your entire body feels like it’s on fire, a sharp pain shooting up your spine as someone rushes over and picks you up out of the glass. The room feels like it’s spinning and your vision is so spotty you barely register Alexei looking down at you with worry as he carries you over to the others. You reach back with a groan for Bucky, but the Red Guardian shushes you in what he hopes is a comforting manner before handing you over to John.

As you feel yourself finally starting to come to, the first thing your gaze focuses on is the sight of Sentry catching a punch Bucky has thrown with his metal arm. You watch in dismay as he slowly twists the appendage before ripping it straight off and hitting your husband upside the head. You cry out in horror as his body slides across the floor in front of you, and despite the way your own body screams in pain you forcefully drag yourself over to him. He’s barely conscious, a bruise already forming on his cheek, but the gentle touch of your hands on his face has his eyes fluttering open to meet your worried gaze.

“Y/n?” He groans, prompting you to let out a sigh of relief.

“Hey, I’m here, honey,” you assure him in a trembling voice, “I’m here.”

It’s clear there’s no winning the battle against Sentry, so your team quickly scrambles to their feet and makes a dash towards the elevator. Alexei helps you carry Bucky inside while Ava makes sure to grab hold of his discarded arm, and with a rapid push of the control panel the doors are sliding shut and sending you back to the ground floor.

Things fall apart pretty quickly after that.

Your entire team disperses despite Alexei’s insistence you stay together as the newly proclaimed Thunderbolts. Only you and Bucky are left standing in front of the tower as you try to figure out the next move, though you’re not exactly in a rush to throw yourself back into the ring with Sentry. Your body aches beyond relief and a dull throbbing sensation has settled in the back of your skull, and you’re barely able to keep yourself upright as you lean back against the building.

“It’s a good thing I never plan to wear this again,” you retort sarcastically while carefully pulling shards of glass from your suit.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asks solemnly, hands gently cradling your face to get a good look at you. Thankfully your skin only sports minor cuts and scrapes that will heal over time, but this doesn’t alleviate the guilt he feels in the pit of his stomach. You’re here because of him, because he’d begged you to come in a last ditch effort to save your marriage, and as a result you’d almost been killed.

As if reading his thoughts, you gently reach up to grasp onto his wrists to ground him and pull him out of his ruminative thoughts. “Hey, I’m alright. I’ve been through worse.”

“That doesn’t make it any better,” he murmurs repentantly before carefully pulling you closer to press a kiss to your forehead. You hum appreciatively at the gesture, having missed the feeling of lips against your skin and the tenderness of his touch. It’s getting harder and harder to resist falling back into old habits, but that seems to be the least of your worries now. “I thought I lost you.”

“So did I,” you admit disquietingly, troubled gaze meeting his own worried one.

“What the hell are we doing, y/n?” Bucky utters gently, the softness of his tone harshly contrasting his words.

“Attempting to save the world?” You answer unsurely only for him to shake his head.

“I mean about us, about our marriage. He almost killed you, and the thought of losing you forever terrified me,” he professes earnestly. “We were lucky enough to get out of there alive, but I never want to feel that way again. I can’t just let you walk out of my life when this is all over.”

“James, we’ve talked about this,” you beg him desperately, throat beginning to tighten with the amalgamation of emotions you hold back. “It’s just not going to work. I love you more than anything, but I want to start a family. I want something stable.”

“You’re not even willing to try?” He pleads despite the clear defeat on his features. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from crying and turn away so you don’t have to meet his gaze.

“I can’t talk about this right now,” you shudder while blinking back tears. “It’s all too much, I just-“

You’re interrupted mid sentence as the ground beneath you begins to rumble. Distant screams fill the air and Bucky quickly pulls you into his side as he scans the area for any signs of danger. Your eyes trail towards the skyline above you and you freeze, body becoming rigid as you grab onto Bucky’s arm to get his attention.

A dark shadow hovers above you, chaos surrounding him as he stares you down. Panic floods the streets of New York, and despite the excruciating pain you feel you’re quick to jump into action and assist civilians in evading falling debris and runaway cars.

It seems now you’ll just have to wait until later to discuss the future of your marriage.

~~~

You wake up somewhere cold.

You have no idea where you are, but the last thing you remember is following Yelena into the void in hopes of finding her alive. You’re alone, and your surroundings are unfamiliar as you slowly pick yourself up off the ground and begin to aimlessly wander around. Gravel crunches under your feet as you walk, the darkness slowly fading into light as you begin to hear a cluster of voices.

A door stands before you, cracked open slightly enough for light to seep through and beckon you inside. You slowly push it open and step over the threshold to find yourself in an abandoned warehouse. Across the way from you stands the silhouette of a man, his figure menacing as he hovers over a woman. Her hands tremble with the weight of the gun she holds, her heavy breathing and quiet sobs filling the air as she points the weapon towards the man bound to a chair in front of her.

“Pull the trigger,” the man utters in Russian, the familiarity of it filling your stomach with unease. A sense of dejavú washes over you, and as you come closer to the scene you start to realize that you do know where you are.

“I can’t,” she snivels, flinching as his hands come to rest upon her own and steady her grip.

“You must,” the man coaxes her, and after an agonizing pause of silence a gunshot rings through the air. You gasp, stumbling back in shock at being faced with a memory you thought had long since been pushed to the back of your mind and forgotten.

Your first kill under Hydra.

The sound causes both figures to turn, and you feel sick to your stomach as you meet the gazes of the Winter Soldier and your younger self. His eyes harden, his approach menacing as he begins to step towards you, and you quickly sprint back to the door in a desperate attempt to escape his clutches.

You slam it behind you just before he can grab you, falling back against the wood with a heaving chest as you try to catch your breath and steady yourself. Your eyes squeeze themselves shut in an effort to keep the rising tears at bay, and when you open them again you discover your surroundings have changed once more.

You’re in the training room of Avengers tower, and you’re met with the sight of yourself angrily swinging your fists against a punching bag. Your knuckles are raw and bloody from the force you use, but you remain relentless. You keep going, even as the sobs begin to wrack your body and your momentum begins to slow.

You frown, slowly walking up behind your other self and resting a comforting hand on her back. She seems to falter before collapsing against the bag and breaking down into an ugly crying fit. The sound echoes throughout the room and fills you with unease, but you continue to run soothing circles into her skin to calm her down.

“Why did he leave me?” She sobs, prompting a chill to go down your spine. You remember this point in your life, the aftermath of Pierce and the collapse of Shield. Bucky had disappeared, and though you were grateful to the Avengers for taking you in as one of their own, you couldn’t understand why he hadn’t come back for you. You knew you meant something to him, you had to after all the time you’d spent together and the fact that he’d defied his orders to kill you. You’d never felt more alone, and all you wanted was your James.

“He thought you’d be better off without him in your life,” you assure her even though she doesn’t seem to hear you. “He did it to protect you because he loves you. You’ll see him again.”

The memory resets, and soon she’s back to assaulting the punching bag with all of her pent up anger. You leave her to grieve and make your way out of the room. No matter where you go, the pattern is the same; each place holds a defining moment in your life, some more painful than others, but all of them force you to confront your past.

You’re still no closer to finding Yelena or the rest of your group, and you’re starting to become frustrated. None of this makes any sense, and you feel like a rat aimlessly running through a maze. At one point you become so fed up you break through a mirror in an attempt to land somewhere else, and you end up falling face first onto a patch of dirt. The sunlight is jarring after being stuck inside for so long, and you raise your hand to shield your face so you can survey your new surroundings.

Slowly getting back up onto your feet, you quickly put the pieces together and come to realize you’ve landed back in Wakanda. You think you’re alone at first, but as you turn around you come face to face with a pair of blue eyes. Your heart stops at the sight of him and you falter, unsure whether or not to reach out for him.

“Steve?” Your voice calls, but it isn’t your lips that his name falls out of. You quickly whip around to see yourself limping forward with a deep gash in your side that you desperately press your hand against. Your hair is shorter, features younger, and suit different from the one you wear now, but these details allow you to quickly determine what point of your life you find yourself at now.

“What happened? Where’s Bucky?” Your past self questions uneasily as she scan the area for any sign of the man. Steve looks away guilty, refusing to meet her gaze as he thinks of something to say. “Steve?”

“He’s…” the Captain starts to speak, unable to finish his sentence. Her face falls while her hand immediately rises to hover over her mouth in shock. Tears immediately well in her eyes as she slowly shakes her head in disbelief, suffocating anguish clawing at her throat as she struggles to breathe.

“No… No, he’s not. You’re lying!” She yells aggrievedly while forcing her aching body to walk towards the man. “Where’s is he?! What did you do?!”

“I couldn’t do anything to stop it,” Steve murmurs gently, eyes pleading as he begs you to understand. “He’s gone. I’m sorry, y/n.”

“You’re lying!” She screams, body finally giving out from the overexertion as she collapses onto her knees. Natasha quickly rushes over and helps your past self back onto her feet, allowing you to lean against her for support as you sob. “He’s not- he can’t be!”

You take a shuddering breath and turn away from the scene, overcome with emotion at reliving your grief and heartache. You thought you’d lost Bucky forever, and in that moment you felt your entire world had ended. He’d been taken from you, and you’d be forced to spend the next five years attempting to pick up the pieces and move on. You’ll forever regret lashing out at Steve so harshly, for taking out your anger on a man that had watched his best friend disappear into dust. He was hurting too, and you wish you could take it back.

You can’t be here anymore. It’s all becoming too much, and despite the fact that you’re starting to lose hope of ever being reunited with the others you know you have to keep trying. You push through the brush and shrubbery of the Wakandan fields in search of a way out, and after fighting tooth and nail to escape you end up stumbling into your apartment.

You feel disoriented and confused at being in your own living room, and for a moment you think you might have somehow managed to escape the Void and found your way home. Everything looks as it should, and nothing is left out of place. You take this moment to let your guard down and rest by taking a seat on the couch, allowing your aching head to fall back against the cushions while you gather your thoughts. You’re emotionally drained, and you don’t think you can keep this up for much longer. Would it be so bad to just give up and accept your fate?

“You finally made it.”

You jump at the sound of another voice in the room with you and look up to see Bucky standing over you with a weary smile. You jump onto your feet immediately and throw yourself into his arms for a hug. He catches you with ease, holding you tightly against him as if you’ll disappear otherwise.

“Bucky, oh my god!” You exclaim before pulling away to cup his face in your hands and look him over. “Is it really you?”

“It’s me, sweetheart,” he assures you before leaning down to press a kiss to the crown of your head.

“How did you find me here? These rooms are supposed to be my own memories.”

“That’s the thing,” he sighs solemnly before casting a glance towards the hallway, “this is my memory too.”

You look up at him with uncertainty and confusion, but before you can question him the front door swings open. You watch as past versions of Bucky and yourself walk into the apartment, both clearly exhausted from whatever public event they’d just attended. You kick off your heels by the door and set your purse on the counter while Bucky shrugs off his suit jacket.

“I think it went well tonight,” he notes with a smile before walking past you to get himself a glass of water. You stand in silence at the island table with your head hung low and hands planted firmly on the counter as you try to gather your thoughts.

“James,” you call gently, unable to meet his questioning gaze, “we need to talk.”

“What’s wrong?” He asks with a puzzled frown, clearly taken back by your sudden change in demeanor. You’d been all smiles the entire evening, so he wasn’t expecting such a drastic switch in tone.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you say in a trembling voice, finally lifting your head to look him in the eyes. Silent tears streak down your face and Bucky feels his chest tighten at the sight.

“Can’t do what anymore? What’s going on, y/n?”

“This!” You exclaim in frustration while gesturing to yourself. “The parties, the public appearances. You promised me when we got married we’d stay out of the spotlight, but not once have we ever been able to have a moment of peace just between the two of us.”

“Hey, come on, of course we have,” he tries to soothe you by gently resting a hand on your arm, but you’re quick to pull away from his touch.

“All the plans we make just keep getting pushed aside for something else. I wanted a house, but we got the apartment to stay in the city in case Sam needed us. I wanted to retire, and yet every time there’s a fight we’re there. I wanted to start a family-“

“We can still do all of those things,” he insists desperately only for you to shake your head in quiet defeat. “I love you, y/n.”

“I love you, James,” you sniffle with a watery smile that temporarily alleviates his anxieties, “but it’s clear to me that we both want different things for ourselves.”

“What are you saying?” He presses you, voice low and apprehensive as he waits for you to speak with bated breath.

“I want a divorce.”

You turn away from the scene in shame as it resets, leaving you and Bucky alone once more in the apartment. Neither of you dares to speak at first, the air thick with tension and discomfort. You don’t even know what to say.

“Hard to believe that was only a month ago,” he jokes humorlessly in an attempt to break the silence.

“I don’t want to end our marriage,” you profess remorsefully. “I just relived every moment we were pulled apart and it was hell. I can’t live without you, but I don’t know how to handle all of this.”

“No one says marriage is easy,” he reminds you, gently resting his hand upon your cheek. “And I definitely haven’t made it easy for you.”

“I just got so tired of fighting,” your murmur faintly, eyes beginning to well with tears. “I want to give it all up, but how can I? I could have said no to you when you asked me to join you on this trip, I could have gone home instead of coming with you to fight Sentry, but I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself if something happened to you because I wasn’t there. Being an Avenger is all I know, and I hate that.”

“Hey, come on, you’re so much more than an Avenger,” Bucky coos sweetly while using his thumb to wipe away some of the tears that had fallen. “You’re strong, you’re brave, not to mention you have the patience of a Saint, and I would know considering how much Sam and I have tested it in the past.”

That gets a quiet laugh out of you, and Bucky’s heart swells with pride at being able to get you to smile. He’s missed sharing moments like this with you, tender moments where you keep each other from falling apart. He doesn’t want to lose that.

“What do we do? I want a life that doesn’t revolve around being a world saving hero, and you want to continue to help make the world a better place, so where do we go from here?”

Bucky falters for a moment as he contemplates his answer. You don’t think there is a right answer, and you fear that he might come to that realization. Instead, carefully grasps your chin between his thumb and forefinger to tilt your head upward.

“We compromise,” he answers with furrowed brows, as if surprised at himself for not coming up with it sooner. “That’s what a good relationship is built on, isn’t it? We can have both.”

“How do we do that?” You prompt him, obvious uncertainty present on your features.

“It’s not going to be easy, but it isn’t impossible,” he assures you with a firm nod. “We can have the house and the family, and when the world needs us to suit up we will. We just have to find a balance.”

He makes it sound much simpler than it will be in practice, and though there’s a part of you that fears it’ll never work, there’s also a part of you that will regret it forever if you don’t at least try. Bucky has become a permanent fixture in your life, and you never want to face a point in your life where he isn’t by your side. You’ve been through more hardships than most married couples have, endured awful traumas and challenges, but each time you’ve managed to persevere together.

“Okay,” you breathe with finality, “let’s compromise.”

It feels like a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders when you express your want to continue fighting for your marriage. This entire time Bucky has been dreading going home and facing the divorce papers that sit waiting on your coffee table back at the apartment, but he can now rest assured knowing those files will never be fulfilled.

He wraps his arms around you once more and pulls you in for a searing kiss. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders immediately, mouth moving in tandem with his own as you pour all of your love and heartache into your shared embrace. You’ve missed this more than anything, and now that you’re back in his arms again everything feels like it’s finally starting to fall back into place. You know you still have a job to do, but you’re more determined now than ever to save Yelena and get the hell out of the Void.

And you’re determined to do it together.

~~~

You fall back onto the hard asphalt with a groan, your limbs entangled with Bucky and Ava who lay beside you.

Despite all odds, you’d managed to help Bob overcome the Void and return yourselves and everyone else back to the real world. You were free from the nightmares of your past and safe on normal ground. You only wish he could remember everything you’d all just endured together as a team.

You look across the way to spot an apprehensive Valentina waiting for your group. Your shoulders tense in aggravation as the woman immediately begins to spew excuses for her wrongdoings, and you join the others in approaching her with a vengance. You can’t wait to bring her in and get her thrown into jail like you’d originally planned, and when all is said and done you’ll finally be able to go home with your husband.

“Now guys, let’s just talk,” she pleads anxiously before disappearing behind a green tarp. You quickly step through before you can lose her, but you soon regret it as you’re immediately bombarded by roaring applause and the flashing bulbs of cameras. You raise a hand to shield your face from the commotion and grab onto Bucky’s arm to steady yourself.

“What the hell is going on?” You groan in annoyance at being ambushed by an entire swarm of journalists. You don’t exactly look or feel camera ready right now, and the stunt only serves to agitate you further.

“How about another round of applause for our heroes!” Valentina boasts into her makeshift podium. “It is because of their selfless bravery that we are all standing here.”

Despite your disdain for the woman, you have to give her credit- she certainly knows how to put on a show. Your group mates exchange looks of uncertainty as she spews her bullshit speech to the eager reporters, unsure of what her angle is and what she’s about to rope you into.

“Today, the citizens of the United States needed protection, and thanks to my hard work, they got it. Ladies and gentlemen, meet the New Avengers.”

The crowd of spectators break out into joyous cheers of excitement and deafening applause, but none of it registers in your mind as you focus on the words that have just left the woman’s mouth. You’re stunned and unnerved at her declaration, but your stomach quickly grows heavy with anger. You feel like the name of your original team has been tarnished, and you’re fuming at the fact that she’d roped you into this without a second thought. This was not how you ever pictured your return, and you’re at a complete loss of words.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you snarl through gritted teeth, knowing that if looks could kill Valentina would be dead right now. “New Avengers? I am an Avenger.”

“I thought you were retired,” John murmurs under his breath, only fueling your anger further.

“Hold on,” Bucky assuages you, hand coming to gently rest upon your back. “I have an idea that could make this all work in our favor. Do you trust me?”

While your mind is still reeling at being thrusted into the spotlight again with a new team, your nerves begin to dwindle as you meet Bucky’s eyes. His features are sincere and understanding, and though there isn’t a single part of you that trusts Valentina, you trust Bucky with your life.

You give him a single nod before returning your gaze to the crowd. A swarm of journalists stand eagerly waiting to hear your input, dying to know what your plans for the team are as the only original Avenger. Bucky’s hand on your back keeps you calm, and you know that whatever happens next you’ll be able to handle it together.

Just like you always have.

~~~

12 Months Later

While you’d initially been resistant to joining the New Avengers under Valentina’s guidance, you have to admit that things have definitely seemed to turn out in your favor.

Yelena had made it clear to the woman that it was her who worked for you guys and not the other way around. You owned her, and if she wanted to stay out of prison then she had to meet your every demand. She especially needed you onboard considering your status as an original Avenger was the only thing that gave the team credibility, and that made it easier for you and Bucky to implement specific stipulations in your contracts.

You bought a house on the outskirts of the city where you could enjoy paid leave whenever you both saw fit, and under no circumstances was anyone to bother you during your time off. This was the compromise you and Bucky had made to ensure your marriage stayed strong. You could retreat to your quiet slice of normalcy and strengthen your relationship while still taking part in missions and saving lives. You’d finally found a balance for your individual needs, and divorce was now far from ever being on your mind.

Along with the house and paid leave, you and Bucky had also finally been able to achieve a milestone you’d wanted for years in your marriage.

“Watch your step,” he cautions, his metal arm resting on the small of your back while the other clasps your hand in his own as he helps you down the stairs.

“Relax, James,” you wave him off, “just because I gained a little weight doesn’t mean I can’t walk on my own.”

“I’m sorry, I just want to make sure nothing happens to you or the baby,” he confesses remorsefully while delicately resting his hand upon your growing stomach.

While the tower was being renovated for your team’s arrival, you and Bucky retreated to your new home to enjoy some well deserved rest. You settled in and made the place your own, and once your move in was complete Bucky took advantage of the fact that he had you all to himself free of disruptions. Thus, it was a surprise to neither of you that you eventually became pregnant. Though you were nervous about what this would mean for you both now that you were Avengers again, Bucky assured you he would do everything in his power to take care of you and your little one.

In the meantime, you did your best to stay out of the action and work behind the scenes to avoid any injuries that could threaten the health of you or the baby. You gathered intel, conducted surveillance, created strategies for missions, and piloted the jets for assignments requiring travel. You were still an active member of the team, and you took on your role as leader well. It made sense to everyone that you take the title considering your veteran status, and you had no trouble getting everyone to fall in line when needed. Your new little family was growing, and you found yourself at peace falling back into old routines.

“It’s about time you show up, we’re starving,” John calls to you both as you finally make it down the stairs and head towards the dining room where everyone is gathered.

“I’m the one eating for two here,” you remind him with a pointed look before taking your seat at the table. “What’s for dinner?”

“Special stew made by Alexei!” The Red Guardian boasts proudly while setting a bowl down in front of you. “Very good for you and little baby Avenger.”

“Thank you, Alexei,” you smile, waiting for him to turn his back before pushing the bowl towards Bucky for him to inspect. Alexei has a habit of making food that doesn’t exactly sit well with your stomach, so your husband has taken the liberty of taste testing all of his dishes for you.

“Have you thought any more about the names we’ve suggested?” Yelena prompts from her seat beside you.

“Yes, I have, and no, I’m not naming them little Yelena or Alexis.”

“What?” She exclaims with a pout, clearly taking offense to your answer. “What are you talking about? Those are great names.”

“Don’t listen to her, they are awful,” Ava agrees before digging into her stew.

“Do you have a name yet?” John prompts with intrigue. Ever since you’d announced your pregnancy he’d made it a habit to live vicariously through you and Bucky considering he hadn’t been present for his own wife and child.

You exchange a knowing look with Bucky and urge him to answer for you, smiling faintly at the proud look on your husband’s face as he thinks about the arrival of your future daughter.

“Brooklyn,” he states fondly to the surprise of your teammates. The name is an homage to the city he and Steve called home, and you couldn’t think of anything more perfect when he’d suggested it to you. Brooklyn Barnes would be arriving in four months, and you eagerly counted down the days until you could hold her in your arms.

“It’s not as good as Yelena but… not bad,” the blonde admits with a purse of her lips.

Dinner is a loud affair as always, but you enjoy spending time with the people you’ve come to call friends. Once your meal is finished, the group follows Bucky to the training room for drills while you stay behind with Bob and wash the leftover dishes. He’s still a bit reserved, but your inaction in the field has allowed you to spend more time with the man and help him open up to you. You enjoy the contrast his quiet nature brings to your chaotic surroundings.

You retire early for the night and choose to wait in your quarters for Bucky to return from training. Strangely enough, you’d been assigned the exact same room you once called your own during your time in Avengers Tower. At that point in your life you’d been alone and depressed, stranded with a group of what was essentially strangers while you waited for some sign of Bucky’s return. Now, you found yourself happily waiting for your husband to finish his workout with your hands lovingly rested on your stomach.

The doors to the room slide open to reveal a freshly showered Bucky, and he’s quick to immediately pull you into his arms as he joins you in bed.

“How’d it go?” You ask him while pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

“Better than usual. I think they’ll be ready for this week’s mission.”

“I have full faith in your leadership abilities,” you confidently assure him.

“Well, that would make you the only one,” he jests dryly before pressing his lips to your forehead. “Sam’s still ignoring my calls.”

Your features morph into a frown at the mention of your friend. He’d been rightfully upset when he found out what you both were up to, and despite Bucky’s attempts to explain your actions Sam wanted none of it. He iced you both out, and though the news of the baby had gotten him to soften up the slightest bit towards you, he still made it a point to cut contact with Bucky.

“He just needs some time,” you assure him empathetically. “This isn’t your first fight and it probably won’t be your last, but you guys will be okay. I’m sure of it.”

“I just want us to have a better life. I want you to be happy, and I want to make sure Brooklyn will be safe even if that means having to work under Valentina and the government.”

“She will be,” you promise him with a fond look in your eyes, “because she has us, and she has an entire team of people that care about her even if they try to say otherwise.”

Bucky can’t help the careful smile that plays upon his lips at your reassurances. You always have a way of alleviating his worries and calming his nerves. Your marriage was stronger now because of the decisions he’d made to get you here, and he just had to hope Sam would be able to understand that. The safety of his wife and new baby was all that mattered to him now, and he’d do whatever it took to protect you both.

“I’m the luckiest man in the world, you know that?” Bucky coos before pulling you in for a tender kiss that you eagerly accept.

Come what may, you have complete faith that you’ll be okay. No matter the challenge, no matter the danger, you and Bucky have always managed to overcome any obstacle you’ve faced together. The future is never promised, but you know you’ll make it to the other side as long as you have each other.

For better or for worse, you’re Avengers now, but nothing will ever come between you as husband and wife.

~~~

“But we are the Avengers. The government said so,” Yelena protests fruitlessly as you make your way to the debrief room. “How does Sam Wilson not understand that?”

“Well, he does have the shield,” Bucky points out.

“Well, I’ve got a shield too.”

“Yeah, a shield that’s still bent like a taco,” you scoff in annoyance.

“It’s a great shield!” John insists defensively.

“It’s a shitty shield.”

“A great shield, Bucky.”

“Okay, well, if he puts together a team and calls them the Avengers, then who are the real Avengers?” Yelena insists.

“Probably the ones with Captain America on their team,” you sigh despondently, grateful to have finally reached the couch. You slowly sink down onto the cushions with Bucky’s help and lean back in an attempt to alleviate the weight on your spine. The Watchtower certainly wasn’t designed with pregnant women in mind, especially not women who were eight months pregnant, but you were managing. You technically should be home with Bucky enjoying the start of your maternity leave, but an atmospheric disturbance had halted all of your plans and forced you to call an emergency meeting.

“Well, that’s the question the internet has been asking, and judging by the very nasty memes that I’ve read they don’t think that it’s us,” John says while kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

“That’s not fair, we have an original Avenger on our side,” the blonde woman attests. “That means we are just as good as any team led by Captain America. Weren’t you going to talk to him, Bucky?”

“I already did,” your husband professes solemnly, guilt present in his features. “It went poorly.”

His relationship with Sam hadn’t gotten any better. If anything, the conversation had only seemed to make things worse. You felt for Bucky, but no matter what you said or did Sam was adamant in standing firm against the choices you’d made. He’d wished you well on your upcoming baby, but he made it clear that he wanted no part of the New Avengers or Valentina.

“You know he’s filed for copyright of the name,” Yelena informs your group incredulously as she finally ceases her pacing and joins you on the couch. “We’re losing credibility.”

“In which we had very little to begin with,” Ava notes with a wave of her hand. “All we have is an ‘Old Avenger’ to keep us afloat, and now she’s about to leave.”

“I can only carry you guys on my back for so long,” you retort in annoyance while defensively resting your hands on your stomach. “And for your information, just because I’ve been around longer than you all does not mean I’m an ‘Old Avenger.’”

“Yeah, you’re ‘Pregnant Avenger’ now,” John quips, earning himself a warning glare from Bucky.

“And now there’s a huge space crisis and no one’s telling us about it.”

You feel your nerves worsen at the mention of the incoming threat. The world has been off balance in a recent change of events, and though you don’t know what exactly it is, you know a threat is coming. You only have one month left until Brooklyn is born, but it seems you won’t be able to spend your last month of pregnancy at home like you’d initially hoped. Bucky tries to refrain from overwhelming you to keep your mind at ease, but he can only hide so much from you.

As Yelena speaks into her control pad to request a full threat analysis, Alexei proudly walks into the room with a new ensemble that has everyone’s heads turning in bewilderment.

“Hello, team,” he greets while boasting his new suit. “I heard about Sam Wilson. He’s dumb litigious man, but I am smart. I’m smart man, and I have smart solve.”

You watch in bemusement as he gestures to the logo on his new jumpsuit and sounds out the new spelling change of ‘Avengerz.’

“Avengers with a ‘Z.’ There is no copyright.”

“No,” Yelena immediately protests, clearly not up to entertaining her father’s antics.

“Nonsense. This suit, it is soft like baby seal. I have one for you, and you,” he says while looking from Yelena to Bucky. “Avengerz suits for everyone! I even got one for little Alexis.”

“Alexei, we’ve been over this,” you remind him gently, “her name isn’t Alexis.”

“There is still time to change mind,” he reminds you with a dismissive wave of his hand.

You let out a quiet laugh of disbelief and sneak a glance at your husband who very clearly seems fed up with this entire debacle. You should have already been on your way to the cottage by now, and instead you were here mindlessly bickering over issues that seemed trivial when compared to your upcoming due date.

“Satellite image populating,” your computer generated assistant announces while producing a visual on the screen. “Extra dimensional ship entering atmosphere.”

“Extra dimensional? What does that mean?” Alexei murmurs as your group moves closer to the screen.

“It means it’s not from here,” you answer absently, nervously grasping onto Bucky’s bicep as you get a closer look at the ship. A blue number four is etched into the side of the strange looking ship, and you watch as it grows closer to landing on earth.

“It’s a cool ship,” John notes with a meager shrug, trying to alleviate some of the tension in the room.

“So much for maternity leave,” you sigh in a weak attempt to make a joke. Bucky shifts his tense gaze towards you before slowly lowering it to your protruding stomach, his mind reeling with all of the potential dangers you could soon be facing.

Sensing his panic, you carefully take hold of his hand in your own and tightly intertwine your fingers together to bring him back to the present. Your touch grounds him, reminds him that as of now you and Brooklyn are safe beside him, and he thanks you by wordlessly giving your hand a squeeze.

You have no idea what is to come or how your team will fare in the face of this new adversity, but you know that you’ll overcome whatever you need to in order to protect your new family.

“No matter what happens, we stay together,” you tell him firmly with no room for argument. You expect him to fight you on it, to insist you go home and keep yourself far away from the danger, but instead, he raises your hand to his lips and presses a kiss to your knuckles before offering you a single nod that melts away all of your trepidations.

“Together.”

[rafesangelita]

♡ stepbro!rafe fingers you when he see’s that your bedroom door is open..

warnings: stepcest, slight mean!rafe, fingering, dirty talk

“are you sure you can’t come out with us tonight? it’s not like you to skip out on a party..” you sighed over the phone, acting as if you were annoyed to be left alone with him. “i really wish i could, but you know i’m stuck here house sitting with rafe.” kicking your feet back and forth, you smiled as you heard the familiar footsteps coming up the stairs, your door cracked just enough for him to pass by and see you in nothing but your black stockings. “ugh, whatever then, try not to die of boredom.” you laughed, rolling your eyes despite your best friend not being able to see you. “oh trust me, i won’t.”

rafe walked by just as you hung up your phone, his eyes doing a double take as he froze in the hallway. what the fuck? taking a few steps back, rafe peeked his head through the door only to be met with the sight of you sitting on your bed, completely topless and looking as pretty as ever. “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?! i could’ve had friends with me or something.” he cursed, a fit of butterflies erupting in your stomach when you saw him subtly lock your door behind him. “so? i’m sure they would’ve loved the show..” rafe scoffed, yanking your ankle to drag you to the edge of the bed where he separated your thighs.

“yeah, i bet you would’ve wanted that, huh? you obviously get off on the attention.” he looked down, spreading open your slick folds. “getting caught by me turns you on this much?” you let out a shaky breath when he ran his fingertips down your slit, your lack of response making him curse in your ear. “answer me, you fucking slut. you get this wet at the idea of me finding you ready to use?” he squished your cheeks together, his digits prodding at your sticky entrance. “yes—!” you gasped when you felt him shove himself knuckles deep inside your cunt, a shit-eating grin spreading across his lips.

rafe’s thumb found your clit, your mouth falling open as your body jolted at the sudden friction on your sensitive bundle of nerves. burying your face in his chest, you moaned as the scent of rafe’s cologne filled your senses, his lips meeting your skin with sloppy wet kisses. “oh, fuckkk!” you squealed, your thighs shutting around his hand as the soaked noises of your cunt was loud enough for both of you to hear over your uneven breaths. rafe didn’t care about the stinging pain in his arm from you digging your nails into his flesh, he was far too busy watching the way your face twisted in pleasure.

“i’m not fucking you until you cum around my fingers,” he said through gritted teeth, “do you feel how hard you have me right now?” you palmed him through his shorts, his forehead collapsing in the curve of your neck. you felt the familiar tension starting to build in your core, your chest rising and falling as rafe continued rubbing hard circles around your clit, his fingers curling in a way that made you cry out. “oh!” you clung onto him, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your high washed over you, your body trembling with over sensitivity.

rafe covered your mouth even though it was just you two at tanneyhill. “save your pretty sounds for when i fuck all the stupid thoughts out of your head.”

thank you nonnie for celebrating with me ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

[enhaeil]

Jay’s response to you taking off your ring during an argument

ACT LIKE THAT! ☆ 박종성

"how you gonna up and leave me now how you gonna act like that? how you gonna change it up? we just finished makin' up... how you gonna act like that?"

how you gonna act like that - tyrese

c/w: angst, arguing and im in love w jay

it's as if a grey cloud is sitting over your once happy home. the bed is colder, the conversations are dry, and the goodbyes are quiet.

you can't even remember the last time you put the 'i' in front of 'love you'.

but you knew you loved him. you know the man you married and you know how good it could be. "it's just a bump in the road, that's all." is what you keep telling yourself, until it finally caused a crash.

"i just feel like you don't even want to be in this relationship anymore, y/n. i try to talk to you, but you shut me out. when i hold you, it feels distant. when i try to make love to you, you always push me off. do you even love me?" he says, still keeping his voice at a decent level.

"do i love you? of course, I love you, jay. if anything, i should be asking you that. when's the last time you've actually tried to do any of that? you barely look at me." your chest feels tight. your voice is rising, and it feels like you can't control it.

"i look at you all the time, y/n you're my wife. don't try to flip this on me when you're the one who's been distant." he says, taking a seat on the couch to ground himself.

"sure, jay. you look at me. whatever. but are you really seeing me ? i'm miserable, jay. i'm unhappy. i'm going through it. i feel trapped in my own house, and then I have to go outside and face it too. i should be able to at least come home to a husband who acts like he cares about me."

that was the pin to the balloon. for the first time, jay raises his voice at you. and you don't like it one bit.

"fine, y/n. if i'm such a bad husband, why're we married then?" he shouts before his brain could even process his words.

he wants to take it back. he wants to stand up and hold you, but his legs won't move.

before he could, you're out of his sight, and he hears your bedroom door shut. god, he's such an idiot.

jay gives it some time. not just for him to collect his thoughts, but for you to collect yours. he knew both of you were stressed, but not to this point.

he finally heads upstairs, carefully opening the door. he hears the shower running and lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

he scans the room, looking at the box of tissues sitting on the nightstand, a sign of the tears he made you shed that night, his chest tightening at the thought.

he noticed something sparkling next to it, causing him to step closer.

the ring he spent hours choosing, because he knew you didn't deserve just any regular ring. the ring he gracefully placed on your finger on your special day. the ring he's pressed kisses against absentmindedly, a promise to each other, sitting on the nightstand.

he didn't think you would take his words to heart. he knows why you two are married. he knows why you chose to stay with him even when he hasn't been the best husband. he plays with the diamond band in his hand as thoughts race through his head.

he doesn't even hear the shower cut off or the door opening as he sits on the edge of the bed, staring at the ring in his hand.

steams follows you as you leave the bathroom, hair damp and towel wrapped around you, yet once you spot jay, you tightened it as if he'd never seen you more vulnerable.

"j-jay ... can you step out, i wanna get dressed." you say, voice quiet and hoarse.

his heart breaks even more, hearing that. "don't be like that, y/n. please." he says desperately.

a moment of silence passes, before he lets out a shaky sigh. "you took your ring off." he says letting out a dry chuckle.

your heart sinks. you'd never thought it would get here, seeing the man you love, broken.

"i'm sorry, jay. i didn't know what to do and- and i was angry, and i-"

"i haven't stopped loving you, ever, y/n. i'm sorry that i failed to show you that. and whatever I did wrong, i'll fix it. i'll talk to you all night, i'll work from home if you need me to. but whatever you do, please don't leave me."

you don't miss the way a stray tear falls from jay's eyes, and without thinking, your feet move towards him. you wipe the tears that now fall freely from his eyes, throat becoming dry at the sight.

"jay, i was never going to leave. i was upset, and i wasn't thinking when i took it off. you are my everything, and i'm so sorry that I pushed you away or made you feel less than that."

it's quiet again as jay pulls you into his lap, head laid on your towel covered chest, listening to the sound of your heartbeat.

he slides the ring back to your finger, back where it belongs. as he returns the diamond to its home, he recites his wedding vows like a prayer.

"i promise that when it feels like the world is attacking you, i'll never join in; i'll love you even harder."

a/n: i could write abt jay for hours and hours and hourssss mind you ... he hasn't been my bias since like 2021 ITS BEEN ONLY NIKI THIS WHOLE TIME . yet i have zero niki fics posted uh hello!

[wwinterwitch]

safe haven – bucky barnes

summary: bucky goes back to you after the void incident pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader word count: 3.7k tags: thunderbolts* spoilers!, vague void experience on purpose (for the full x reader experience), sam is back and he's pissed, fluff and fluff and more fluff (love is in the air people!), comfort, kissing, things get heated at the end but no actual smut is included (i think i'll make another part exclusively for the smut lovers, so the people that don't read smut can still enjoy this part)

please reblog and/or comment in you enjoy!

all masterlists | marvel masterlist | previous part

You gasp, snapping back to reality after...whatever the fuck just happened, trying to catch your breath in hopes of easing your headache and slow your heart rate. The broom you were using to clean up your apartment lays on the floor next to you, everything looking the exact same as it was when you left.

It cannot possibly be another Thanos situation, right? That time it felt like you just blinked, but now it feels like you've been gone for long tortuous hours. That time your roommate almost had a heart attack when you knocked on the door of your shared apartment because she thought she’d never see you again. And you certainly don't remember anything about experiencing the blip. Now...now you wish you could forget what you saw back there.

You were forced to experience the most traumatizing memories playing in a loop over and over again until all you could do is sit in a corner and cry as you beg for the images to go away. A horrifying display of the darkest moments of your life. The times you felt more unhappy and hopeless. And every time you thought you’d managed to escape, you’d just end up in yet another memory.

But somehow you're back in your apartment now. Everything looks the exact same and it seems like no time has passed.

Still, even when it seemingly feels like you're safe, you can't help but feel uneasy. The thought of what you saw is still very much present in the back of your mind, replaying over and over again, taking over your senses and clouding your judgement. 

What if this is just another trick and you’re about to experience another horrible memory? You look around your apartment, too afraid to move, expecting to see something that confirms that you’re still stuck in this never-ending nightmare. That you’ll have to stay in this place for the rest of your life.

The unexpected buzzing of your phone makes you jump, snapping you back to reality as you frantically search for it. Quickly spotting it on top of your dinner table, you keep wondering what the hell is happening as you read Sam's name on your screen.

“WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN? I'VE BEEN TEXTING YOU LIKE CRAZY,” you hear him shout on the other line as soon as you picked up, sounding incredibly agitated.

“I'm sorry, I...I don't exactly know what happened,” you mutter, staring outside the window in hopes of seeing something out there that might give you any clues of what is going on. To your surprise, you can see a few ambulances speeding past your street and you can spot a large cloud of smoke in the distance. 

Bucky and the others are most likely involved in that commotion. You can only hope that they’re okay, still having no updates. You can’t really tell how much time has passed since they left, so you can’t know for sure when Bucky is going to show up.

“The entirety of New York just went black,” he explains. “It just looked like darkness.”

“What?” you ask in disbelief. “I don't remember anything about it. I was just cleaning up my apartment and then somehow I was in...I don't even know what it was. It was like purgatory or something.”

“What do you mean?”

You sigh, not really wanting to go into too much detail about the stuff you had to witness. Honestly, you wish you could just forget it. “It was like being tortured, Sam. I don't know what it was, just that it was awful. I was cleaning my apartment and that's pretty much the last thing I remember before waking up in that place.”

There's a brief silence and for a second you thought perhaps the call was disconnected, but you suddenly hear Sam's voice again. “Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me!”

“What happened?” you say, evidently confused.

“Put on the news,” he sighs, muttering something else under his breath you can't quite hear correctly. “I gotta go, but I'll talk to you later, okay?” he says in a ruther rushed voice, sounding both pissed and worried. “Take care.”

“Sure. Bye, Sam.”

You hang up the phone as you sit on your couch, TV remote in your hand as you search for any news broadcast that's on. As soon as you find one, you stare at it in disbelief. There, in the middle of a street, is Valentina giving some bullshit speech you don't really care to pay attention to, and behind her stands the entire group of people that were in your apartment just seconds (or minutes? Hours?) ago, joined by a blonde guy you have never seen before.

They look exhausted and visibly confused to be in front of so many cameras. Bucky and Yelena look particularly pissed. But what matters the most to you is that they're all alive.

The next thing that really catches your attention is the text on the banner beneath the image. 'Introducing the New Avengers'.

What the hell is really going on right now?

The broadcast finally ended, and it doesn't take Bucky that long to arrive. All he wanted to do was to get away from Valentina and all the press that just kept taking pictures of him and the others. He barely even acknowledged the rest of the group, leaving as soon as possible. All he wants right now is to see you and make sure you're okay. He knows you're probably safe– of course you are, but he won't be calm until he's standing before you to make sure you really are unharmed.

He walks inside your apartment and immediately walks towards you, grabbing your face with both of his hands as soon as he's standing in front of you, frantically scanning your face for any sight of hurt or discomfort. It's almost as if you were the one out there fighting.

“Are you okay?” he asks, slightly out of breath, still not letting you go.

“Yes, I'm okay,” you reply with a reassuring smile, and he immediately pulls you in for a hug. “How are you?”

“Uh...as good as I can be.” 

His arms are still tightly wrapped around you, not wanting to let you go any time soon. Yes, he’s holding onto you because it’s a huge relief to confirm that you’re safe, but it also brings him an enormous amount of comfort, which is what he was craving ever since he stepped foot into the void.

“What kind of answer is that?”

“I don't know. It's been a lot. I was so worried about you.”

“I was so worried about you!”

He pulls away just enough, and you almost want to roll your eyes at the playful smirk on his face. “Don't try to make this a competition.”

“I won't make it a competition because I would obviously win,” you reply, exasperated. “I wasn't the one who was out there fighting...what was the guy's name again?”

“Sentry.” There’s a brief pause, his expression hardening considerably. “Were you there too?”

You get even more exasperated because you still don't understand shit. “Where?”

“The void.”

Realization hits you right there. The entirety of New York being consumed by darkness as Sam explained over the phone, the horrible things you had to see...of course a place like that would have such a fitting name. It felt exactly like it. You just felt empty and alone.

“So that's what it was. And the entire city was experiencing the same thing?” you ask, still in complete disbelief at the idea of one person having that much power. It certainly is a terrifying and dangerous ability to have. 

Then, after a quick pause, you realize Bucky had to experience that too, immediately hating the idea of him having to endure that. "Were you...?"

Bucky notices the shift in your expression, offering you a weak smile. “Yeah, we were all there.”

You don't know what to say at first. If you thought you had a hard time in there, you can't even begin to imagine the horrors Bucky was forced to watch over and over again. It breaks your heart to think about it. Even when he has made a lot of progress when it comes to healing from his past and learning to forgive himself, it doesn't mean the pain and guilt are not there.

“I'm so sorry,” is all you can say, feeling completely useless at that moment. Sorry doesn't make it better in any way.

“It's okay. It's not like this is the first time I've been there.”

His last statement absolutely crushes you. If you could find a way to take all of that burden off his shoulders, you'll do it in a heartbeat. Still feeling completely useless, you decide to pull him in for another hug, because at least that’s doing a little more than just saying you’re sorry.

“I wish I could do more to make you feel better,” you whisper, feeling his fingers gently running through your hair in an affectionate manner, kissing the top of your head.

“Being here with you is more than enough,” he whispers back. “You are more than enough."

“Oh, please don't make me cry now,” you warm him with a soft giggle, feeling like a few tears might actually come out any second now.

The sound of Bucky's laugh makes you feel just a hundred times better about the entire situation involving that stupid void, loving to hear it under such circumstances. It's impossible not to feel overwhelmed right now. That place really left you feeling like an emotional mess.

You move back from the hug just enough and Bucky takes that as his opportunity to pull you in for a kiss. The type of kiss that makes your knees weak and leaves your mind completely blank. A kiss you see in a movie with fireworks adorning the night sky, right before the end credits roll. One that feels like he's been dying to give you a kiss since he closed the door of your apartment before New York was consumed by darkness.

A kiss that shows you he really does mean it when he says you are more than enough.

“I'm really happy you're okay,” he mutters right after the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, eyes still closed.

I love you. That's all you can think of in this moment, and it takes everything in you not to say it out loud because how fucking insane would that be? To not even be an official couple and already say such a thing? Perhaps it wouldn't be so crazy given you've been best friends for so many years (and you've had a crush on him for most of them), but still. It's just too soon. Too weird. Too intense.

The fucking void really did numbers on you. Just get it together, please!

“I'm happy you're okay too,” is what you say instead, which sounds appropriate. And not weird. And not intense at all.

You offer to make him a snack after all that happened, forcing him to take a seat when he said he could do it himself. As you prepared a few sandwiches, he tried to explain as much as possible about everything that's been going on.

“So Bob doesn't remember anything?” you ask once he's done, just as you're handing him a plate with two grilled cheese sandwiches.

“Apparently,” he replies, right before leaning over the counter to give you a quick kiss as a way of thanking you for the food.

“Well, that's probably for the best, right? I mean if the Sentry part returns, it's only a matter of time until the Void part wants to have a bit of fun again too.”

He practically devours one of the sandwiches, looking like he hasn't eaten in centuries. “Probably,” he says nonchalantly, clearly more focused on eating. It's impossible to blame him for it, especially considering everything he's been through today.

You can't help but smile at the image of him eating the sandwiches like he's been deprived of food his entire life. So much so that he can barely hold a conversation.

I love you. It's like you just couldn't hold yourself back from wanting to blurt those three little words once again. Like it's physically impossible to hold them in. It doesn’t matter if he’s saying cute things to you or if he’s eating like a caveman. You love both sides of him. 

But you can't say it. You can't be weird.

Instead, you try a much more appropriate approach once again. “You're so cute,” you say with a smile, moving closer to run a hand through his hair affectionately. Then, you suddenly remember something that you two haven't discussed yet, and your 'I'm-so-down-bad' smile turns into a 'just-thought-of-the-best-joke-ever' smirk. “Might as well start calling you the cutest Avenger, huh?”

He turns to look at you with a soft grin on his face, immediately shaking his head. “Please, tell me you didn't see that.”

“Oh, but of course I did!” You take a seat next to him on your kitchen counter, getting more comfortable to continue teasing him. “The news called you ‘The New Avengers’. Who would’ve thought!”

“It was all Valentina's plan to save her ass.”

“So you guys are not going to accept the title?”

“We are, but we still need to have a few meetings to set some rules if we plan on working together…and boundaries.”

“Oh, don’t act like you’re so irritated by the idea! I can tell you’re starting to feel more comfortable around them.”

He’s completely silent for a few seconds, knowing he can’t lie without you noticing. “Okay. They might be growing on me.”

“Awwh,” you reply, but not with the intention of making fun of him. “I thought they were very nice. And I'm glad you're making new friends.”

“You're never gonna stop teasing me about any of these, aren't you?”

“Well...yeah, but I actually mean it when I say I like seeing you meeting new people,” you reply, changing your tone and demeanor to let him know you're serious. “And yes, I'll tease you about the whole Avengers thing, but that doesn't mean I'm not excited to witness this new chapter in your life.”

You begin gently caressing his arm as you offer him a sincere smile. “You deserve it. You deserve to be recognized for your kind heart and your willingness to help others,” you continue. “I'm so proud of how far you've come. And I'm sure Steve is proud of you too.”

The mention of his childhood friend brings a melancholy to his expression that is both sad and beautiful to see. It shows he still deeply misses him, but has learned to think of him without breaking down. It's the type of expression you have when you've finally found peace with the fact that someone you love is not around anymore...not entirely around, at least. He'll always carry a part of Steve Rogers with him.

"Thank you," he says, genuinely meaning it. 

I love you. Those three words threaten to make their way into your conversation again, but this time it's not you the one fighting back the urge to say them.

But It's just a little too soon, right? Last thing he wants is to make things awkward between the two of you. So he decides not to say anything, just like you have decided twice already.

You smile, standing up from your seat. “Finish eating, okay? I have to clean the mess the New Avengers left in my living room earlier.”

“Yeah, you'll have to get used to that, unfortunately.”

“Like I haven't had to deal with that before,” you joke, hinting back at all the times you had people like Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton randomly showing up at your place.

Bucky stays in your kitchen while you finish brooming until you’re sure the floor of your living room is impeccable, familiarity slowly setting in after everything that happened today. You could faintly hear Bucky having a phone call with someone, but you couldn't quite make the words out over the music you had playing on your own phone to make the cleaning much more entertaining.

You go back to your kitchen to throw away the dirt and dust you collected from the living room, just in time to see Bucky standing up to wash the dish he used, sandwiches long gone.

“I just got a call from Sam,” Bucky says as soon as he notices you, his tone letting you know it wasn't exactly a pleasant conversation.

“What did he want?”

“For us to immediately backtrack and not go through with the whole Avengers thing.”

“Yeah, he called me just as it was airing and he didn't sound too happy about it. What are you going to do?”

Bucky sighs, exhaustion visible in his demeanor. “I'll talk to him later. I don't think anyone in the team feels like backtracking right now. Most of them looked pretty excited actually.” You can't help but smile, which makes him let out a soft chuckle. “What?”

“You said 'the team'. I just thought it was cute,” you shrug, crossing your arms across your chest. “I should invite them for a pizza night or something. Get to know them a little better. And meet this Bob guy too.”

“You'll invite John?” he asks, half-joking.

“Please don't call him John,” you immediately reply, squinting your nose in disgust. “I'll have to warm up to him...very slowly. I still feel like punching him in the face when I see him.”

“That's fair,” he agrees with you, perfectly understanding where your discomfort with John Walker's presence comes from. Perhaps that might explain some of the reasons as to why Sam seems so against the idea of this team being a thing.

You notice Bucky walks towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Even when the possible pizza night sounds exciting, I kind of just want to think about the two of us spending time together alone,” he says, grinning mischievously. 

A shiver runs down your spine when you feel his fingers near your neck, gently pulling the fabric of your hoodie to the side, exposing more of your collarbone. He places a few kisses there. Slow and careful.

“Perhaps I can stay here with you for a few more days?” he suggests, right before leaving another kiss on your skin, using his other hand that’s firmly placed on your lower back to bring your body closer to his.

“Of course you can stay,” you reply in a soft voice, trying not to let it show just how much his actions are affecting you.

He practically hums against your skin. “Do you want me to stay?” he whispers, definitely making you shiver now that his metal fingers are tracing lazy patterns on your skin, underneath your hoodie. What a teasing piece of shit.

It’s almost impossible to speak now. “Yes.”

His fingers trail further up your spine, but not that much higher. Just enough to allow you to feel his touch in a slightly different place, making you crave for more. A silent reminder that he can just move his fingers wherever he pleases, but he deliberately chooses not to grant you that pleasure.

“Then say it properly.”

It’s not a suggestion or a plea. It’s straight up an instruction. And he sounds like he’s absolutely certain that you’ll do exactly as he says. 

And you do. “I want you to stay here with me.”

The kisses on your neck continue and it feels like a reward, so you just stand there and enjoy it, allowing him to worship your skin with his lips until you're practically trapped between his body and the counter.

You can feel your cheeks burning red, the warmth spreading to the rest of your body with each kiss. “Don't you want to take a shower?” you try being a voice of reason, your brain just doing whatever it can to help you feel less nervous.

“Why? You're thinking about joining me?” he whispers against your skin, which immediately makes you regret ever opening your mouth because what the fuck is wrong with him and how does he dare to say something like that?

Okay. To justify your growing nerves, you've technically never been fully intimate with Bucky yet. You've been pretty close because a girl can only hold back for so long, but the two of you have been mainly focusing on your emotional connection and that one is just so mind-blowingly special that there hasn't been a need to immediately jump to the physical aspects of your relationship.

But oh, is he tasting your limits right now...

“How you even have the energy right now is beyond me,” you comment again. You're not against the idea of something happening, but your nervous brain gets the best of you so you find yourself blurting out random things yet again.

Finally, Bucky moves away just enough, a playful smile adorning his lips. “I'll always have the energy for you,” he replies, and the implication behind his words has you blushing even harder.

You immediately hide your face in his chest while he wraps his arms around you, laughing at your reaction. “I hate you,” you mutter.

“No, you don't.”

That's true. You really don't hate him at all. It's actually quite the opposite, but you can already picture him walking out the front door if he hears you say how you truly feel about him. The thought of daring to confess you love him is a thousand times more terrifying than the idea of having sex with him for the first time.

You look up, smiling up at him when he kisses your forehead. “No, I don't.”

“Glad to see you're agreeing with me for once in your life,” he comments playfully.

“Don't push it,” you warn him, making him laugh once again.

“How about I take a shower like you suggested and then we take a nap together,” he suggests casually, still keeping his arms around you. “I think we can both use a little sleep.”

“Yeah, a nap sounds good.”

“Wow, two in a row! What has gotten into you?” he jokes yet again, trying to get you to stay in his arms when you start to push him away after that little comment, but he doesn't put up that much resistance, so you're eventually getting away from him.

“You're insufferable,” you comment in an obviously fake tone of annoyance, right before leaving the kitchen to head towards your bedroom.

“And you're beautiful,” he replies with a genuine smile, following after you.

[mallory524]

the thunderbolts when you’re sick

tags- fluff, you’re sick, medicine, comfort, implied teammates to lovers, everyone lives together post-thunderbolts

notes- i am sick and this is how I’m coping. i want to make more of these so gimme ideas!

Yelena

Yelena knows you’re sick before you do. She notices that you’re coughing and sneezing throughout the day, you’re burning up every time you touch, and you’re sleeping a lot more than usual. One afternoon, you wake up on the couch to see Yelena sitting next to you with a carton of orange juice and a bunch of medicine. “You’re taking some of this” “Yelena, I’m not-” “DO NOT give me that. I know you’re sick and I think you know it now, too”. You may not be the most cooperative patient in the world, but Yelena does not care. She will keep bugging you to take your medication, rest, and eat healthy until the day when you finally feel better.

Bucky

Bucky knows you. He is not going to listen to a second of the old “I’m fine / I’m not sick / I can still do whatever I always do” routine. Bucky uses those kinds of phrases for everything, so he knows exactly what you’re doing. (Super soldiers can’t get sick, but if he could, that’s just how he would act, too). He makes sure the Thunderbolts leave for missions while you’re still asleep so that you don’t have the chance to try to convince Bucky you’re fine. Everyone goes along with this plan because they all know you’re in no condition to get back out there yet. Every time, without fail, Bucky leaves a little note letting you know where he is, when he thinks they’ll be back, and that he loves you.

Ava

Ava isn’t too perceptive when it comes to this sort of thing. She doesn’t pay attention to the little indicators that you’re coming down with something... at first. The day you’re on a mission and she has to slow down so you can catch up, it’s like she finally sees. The weary look in your eyes, the messy hair, the old clothes, the overall drowsiness, it all adds up. She doesn’t know how she didn’t see it before. After that, Ava doesn’t want you going on any missions for a while, or even leaving the tower for that matter. She doesn’t want you to think it’s because she doesn’t believe in you or something. She’s just worried. She can’t stop imagining you trying to fight someone, and your opponent taking advantage of your weakened state and seriously injuring you. Plus: if you ever say you’re achy or sore, her heart will break, because she remembers what it’s like to be in constant pain.

John

You told John that you weren’t feeling good, and he told you to take some medicine and a nap. The next day, he walks into the living room and sees you curled up in a chair, fast asleep. He gently sets the back of his hand against your forehead, and he can feel that you're burning up. Now he feels awful because you’re clearly a lot worse off than he thought, and he had dismissed you. Careful to not wake you up, he carefully wraps a big, soft blanket around you, and walks out the door to buy some cold and flu medicine. For the rest of the time that you’re sick, he makes you soup, does your laundry, sits next to you on the couch and lets you fall asleep on his shoulder, anything you want. He can’t even pretend to be annoyed. You’ve been there for him time and time again, and he’s going to be there for you now.

Alexei

Alexei is caring to the point of being over the top. He will try to make you whatever food you want to eat. (The key word being "try"... some food is burnt). He will sit on the couch and watch whatever tv show or movie you want to watch. He will carry you to your room because, “I am strong! How can I, in good conscience, make you walk to your room on your own when you are so ill?” You want to remind him that you’re perfectly capable of walking from one room to another, but it’s so nice and you are feeling pretty weak right now so maybe it’s not the worst thing in the world… The rest of the Thunderbolts are starting to get annoyed, though. They think you’re being pampered too much, and that you’ll never even try to get better and rejoin the team. They’re probably just jealous that they still have to walk places.

Bob

Bob’s really worried about you. You tell him that he doesn’t have to fuss over you, that you’ll be fine, and that you’ll just stay in your room until you’re better. His heart breaks because you’re starting to sound like him every time he’s ever gotten sick. You deserve to be fussed over. He makes you tea, he regularly takes your temperature, and he proudly tells you one morning that he folded your laundry for you. Plus, the man is bulletproof and more powerful than all the Avengers combined; I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say he probably doesn’t get sick anymore. It’s so nice that you can just cuddle up and not worry about getting him sick, too.

[steddieas-shegoes]

delay on the runway

for @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘delay’

rated t | 408 words | no cw | tags: modern au, rockstar Eddie, lawyer Steve, strangers to lovers (implied), open ending but assume they’re gonna be deeply in love by the end of the flight, first meetings

🛩️🛩️🛩️🛩️🛩️🛩️🛩️🛩️🛩️🛩️

“We’re sorry for the delay. They’re quite backed up on the runway, but we should be on our way in the next ten minutes.”

The pilot’s voice is loud over the speaker, but Steve’s grateful to hear it. They’ve been sitting on the tarmac for almost 30 minutes after a two hour delay before boarding. He’s already missed his connection and he just hopes that whatever hotel he spends the night in has hot water and decent snacks.

“Nervous about the flight?” The guy next to him asks.

He’s definitely not who Steve usually ends up next to in first class, that’s for sure. Long hair, torn jeans and hoodie, dark circles under his eyes, tattoo just visible on his neck. Steve’s buttoned shirt and slacks look comical next to him.

“Not really,” he answers. “Frequent flyer. Just missed my connection. Won’t be home until tomorrow afternoon now.”

The man nods, gives him a very charming smile, and puts his headphones in.

Just when Steve thinks they’ll go back to ignoring each other, the guy speaks again.

“Normally, I take the band plane. My uncle needed an emergency surgery and he’s a stubborn old man and refused a temporary aid so I had to fly home and make sure he didn’t try to lift his body weight or anything. And then the weather made it so only commercial flights could come and go and I have to be New York by seven in the morning. Which is hopefully happening now, but who knows.”

Steve blinks at the guy.

“Eddie. Sorry, should’ve started there.”

Steve laughs. “Steve. Is your uncle doing okay?”

Eddie’s mouth opens, he removes his headphones, and laughs. “Sorry. You’re asking about my uncle?”

“Yeah…you said he needed emergency surgery,” Steve explains, biting his lip. His hearing’s not great over the plane engines, but it can’t be that bad. “Right?”

“I did. It’s just, I figured the band plane part would grab your attention more.”

“I’ll get to it,” Steve winks. “But your uncle. He’s okay?”

Eddie nods. “He’s better than expected. Thanks.”

“For?”

“Asking. What’s got you in first class, Steve?” Eddie removes his headphones as he turns his body towards him, grinning ear to ear.

“I was supposed to be traveling with a client,” Steve gestures to Eddie’s seat. “He has to travel tomorrow instead. Now I have you.”

“Lucky me.”

Eddie’s eyes bore into Steve’s as he smirks.

“I’m feeling pretty lucky myself.”

[inexplicifics]

A modern Witcher AU ficlet for @domaystic 2025 prompt 5, withered flowers, also on AO3:

“He’s not coming back, you know.”

Jaskier tears his gaze away from the vase of withered flowers on the windowsill and glares at his best friend. “He will. He’s just…late.”

“Jaskier,” Priscilla says, very gently, “it’s been a month.”

Jaskier takes a shaky breath. “And no one’s found a body, so he’s not dead.”

Priscilla sighs, but she turns the subject to their mutual nemesis’s most recent terrible album, and Jaskier manages to distract himself for the rest of the afternoon with ragging on Valdo Marx and writing half of a new duet and going down a delightful rabbit hole of learning about the history of chocolate chip cookies.

And then Priscilla leaves, and Jaskier is alone in the too-big house again. He slumps down in the breakfast nook and reaches out to touch one flower petal very delicately. They’re nothing special - not storebought roses, not hothouse orchids. Just buttercups, gathered by the side of the road, because Geralt is secretly a complete and utter sap.

He always brings Jaskier flowers when he comes back from a contract, and Jaskier puts them in a vase on the windowsill and sighs happily over them until the next ragged bouquet.

Usually, Geralt takes a couple of contracts a week, and the flowers don’t have time to wilt more than a little.

Usually, Geralt isn’t gone for a month.

He’d said this would be a longer contract, yes, but Jaskier had thought he meant a week, maybe two at the outside. Not this endless awful waiting. And Geralt’s phone just goes straight to voicemail, and his brothers aren’t picking up their phones - not that Lambert is ever great at it, but he’ll usually answer texts at least - and the horrible waiting is driving Jaskier mad.

He doesn’t realize how long he’s been sitting there until his phone rings, over on the counter where he left it, and he startles and discovers the sun has set and the entire kitchen is dark. He fumbles to his feet, tripping over the table leg, and catches himself on the counter with a curse.

Suspected Spam, the screen reads, and Jaskier pushes the reject call button with another muttered obscenity and flicks on the light. Dinner. He should eat, even if his appetite is terrible these days. Priscilla will be so disappointed in him if he admits to skipping another meal.

He’s rummaging in the fridge for whatever might still be edible - there’s leftovers from a dinner out with Essi, that’s probably still good - when he hears a car pulling into the driveway.

He slams the fridge shut and goes scrambling down the hallway, tripping over his own shoes and thudding against the door, scrabbling for the doorknob for a long moment before he manages to flip the lock and yank the door open.

Geralt is standing next to his battered, well-loved old station wagon, gaunter than he ought to be, shoulders slumped with exhaustion -

And in one hand he holds a little clump of buttercups, the yellow petals seeming to glow under the porch light.

“Geralt,” Jaskier breathes.

Geralt gives him a tiny, weary smile. “Sorry I’m late.”

Jaskier half-tumbles down the porch steps and tackles Geralt back against the car, clinging to him tightly; Geralt lets out a soft oof and wraps his arms around Jaskier just as hard.

“You asshole, I thought you were dead,” Jaskier mumbles against Geralt’s shoulder.

“Sorry,” Geralt says, nuzzling at Jaskier’s hair and inhaling deeply. “Phone fell in a swamp.”

“Of course it did,” Jaskier sighs.

“Missed you,” Geralt admits. “There kept being more kikimoras.” There’s a vast weariness in his voice; Jaskier can only imagine day after day slogging through a swamp, forever chasing horrid creatures, bone-tired and filthy and injured.

“Come on,” he says, straightening up and kissing Geralt gently. “I’ll draw you a bath.”

Geralt smiles and offers the buttercups. Jaskier takes them reverently.

They’ll look lovely on the windowsill, a brilliant gold reminder that Geralt is home at last.

[myfanfic-urfantrash]

Asking them if they'd let you get them pregnant

Cw: pregnancy talk, death mention(its blade come on), a little suggestive

Part two is here.

Part three is here.

Part four is here.

A/N: this isn't omegaverse in the slightest it's just pure crack. I live to make them suffer :3c

-------

Neuvillette is so confused when he hears the question it makes him pause in his work. Get him pregnant? He sits there quietly trying to process everything before turning towards you his brows furrowed. Was this your way of asking to have a child together? All he knows is that based on both of your anatomy he wouldn't exactly be able to get pregnant and tells you as much.

But you ask him if your bodies could would he carry your children and he finds himself lost in thought again. It takes a few minutes before you begin to see his ears and cheeks begin to turn pink. He clears his throat turning back to his work nodding once shyly. You nod at his answer before leaving him with the cryptic words "it shall be done"...what?

Wriothesley is used to your crazy questions at this point but this one really takes the cake. He nearly spits out his tea all over his desk choking a bit and coughing at the question. His voice is hoarse as he asks why you would want to get him pregnant but you don't elaborate just asking him that if you could get him pregnant would he let you.

He stares at you with concern over your mischievous grin before giving you an uneasy and questioning "No?". He runs a hand down his face asking if this was your way of letting him know you want kids together. While he certainly wouldn't mind having some with you he'd definitely prefer if you adopted rather than whatever it is you have in mind. You simply tell him it's too late before walking down the stairs leaving him to his work as he sits there losing his mind. "Too late"?! What do you mean by "too late"?!

Wanderer looks at you in a mixture of disgust and disappointment wondering if you had hit your head on the way back from the market. He openly asks which is emptier your brain or your wallet. You brush him off handing him some of the groceries to put away clearly focused on getting his answer.

He waves a hand in the air deciding to humor your stupidity. "Sure." He rolls his eyes waving a hand in your direction. "If you can manage to find the technology good luck." He sighs. As if you could ever- "I already have it." Huh?

"Wait." He laughs in disbelief, you must be pulling his leg. "I was just joking." "I'm not." And with that you walk off to the bathroom to put away the rest of the supplies you purchased. The bag of grain slips from his hands and thumps to the floor at his feet. Huh???

Albedo just responds without looking up from his research bench that that's impossible for the both of you at the moment based on both of your anatomy. Now it's your turn to be confused just what did he mean by "at the moment"?

"It's just as I said: at the moment. I currently do not have access to some of the materials needed to make that possible so you will have to wait until I do." And he just keeps on working as if he didn't drop the biggest bomb on you ever. You were only messing with him but as you sit there thinking about it that honestly sounds really nice.

So you ask him if he'd be alright with being pregnant as he still has plenty of research to do. He answers that he might not be able to conduct experiments on Dragonspine for some time but he can always do his research at the headquarters or at home if need be.

"Although..."he pauses thinking about this a little more. He would have to limit ingesting any potions he makes and the like in order to not hurt the baby. "Hmm..." he stands up taking a large book filled to the brim with various experiments he has done and wants to do and flips through it. "This is needs a bit more thought than I imagined. I'll have to go through my notes and plan out what I can and cannot do if I were pregnant. So give me some time." You don't have it in you to tell him you were only joking.

Jing Yuan takes the question in stride believing this to be one of your typical silly questions to keep yourself entertained. He moves his star chess pieces lazily around the board as you play together. He confidently says that should you be able to beat him in the next three games he'll gladly carry all of your future children.

Now he says this just to motivate you to play a little differently perhaps so he can have a few easy wins but he's pleasantly surprised when he actually loses the next three games. He laughs at how determined you were to beat him and jokes that you must really want him to bear your children even though you both know he can't get pregnant.

"Yes you can." "Excuse me?" He blinks a little stunned by your confidence but he quickly recovers and laughs thinking you're joking. It isn't until you lift a pair of fruits he knows from a foreign planet that can alter ones anatomy he begins to click the dots together. "OH! So you were serious. Well then..."

He takes one of the fruits for himself examining the odd fruit and its pleasant mouthwatering scent. He teasingly takes a bite of the sweet fruit licking the spilled juices off his lips and chin and wrist keeping eye contact with you.

"I hope you'll take good care of your darling general."

Blade simply grunts out a "No." and begins walking away as soon as he hears the words from your lips. He's done with you for today. Of all the foolish questions to ask him. But you follow after him determined as ever to have him answer any and all of your inane questions.

He's made at least two rounds around the Stellaron Hunter base before stopping in one of the common areas that's fortunately void of anyone but you two. He finally acknowledges you as you look at him with the biggest wettest puppy eyes you can. Why is he here? Just to suffer? He pinches the bridge of his nose feeling a headache coming in that he wishes was from the Mara honestly.

He knows you won't leave him alone until you get an answer so he groans that unless it's written on Elio's script that it ain't happening. So imagine his shock when you confidently say that it is on the script pulling up your phone to show him.

Even more so when his own phone he barely uses vibrates and he opens it up to show his own piece of the script that does in fact say that you get him pregnant. He's stiff as he walks off with you following behind humming a simple happy nursery tune. Death could not come soon enough...but at least it's you.

[ghouljams]

The thing you put in the tags about Nik liking the docile kind made me blush. I feel so seen <3

I have crazy respect for all the brats out there, because the idea of talking back or disobeying for fun mortifies me. All I want to do is take whatever I'm given and nod whenever I'm asked to. (Yes I am a major people-pleaser, how could you tell?)

So yeah, the idea of Nik fucking you until you've almost hit your limit and recognizing that it's time to pull you back down to earth makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. He could keep going if he wanted to, it's not like you would protest, but he chooses to prioritize what's best for you because he knows you won't.

Yeah you get it. He likes them soft and brainless. Likes having a pretty thing to smile at him, to tip your head as he coos his little praises and see the little shine of glass starting to gloss over your eyes. Brats are fun for men that feel like they have to prove they're in charge, Nikolai doesn't have to prove anything, if you don't understand as soon as he walks in the room that he has control then he isn't interested. He's too old to be chasing after pets when he finds it just as effective to sit and wait for a docile little doe to wander close enough to sniff his fingers.

He'd rather have you settled on a pretty pillow, wet eyes shining up at him as you cockwarm him with your throat, peaceful and sweet as can be, than punish you for mouthing off. He likes the type that'll cut out their own tongue if he asks, that cuddle close and pluck their fingers over his fly and don't ask why he smells like gunpowder. He's allowed to be gentle with you because you're such a good pet. You don't need to please him, you just have to do what he tells you to and he'll lay the praise on thick. All thick honeyed words and heavy hands molding you like clay.

[r0manceplanet]

i have one request. taph x reader idc what u do as long as its fluff please us taph likers are actually drying out like the sahara desert 😭😭

Taph General Headcanons

A/N: Omg how I ran FAST just to start writing this— and you are so right, taph needs more content (coming from a taph main, me lol), and i am here to feed more taph content, feel free to send me more taph requests ngl.

NOTE: this can be seen as romantic or platonic, and as usual the reader remains gender neutral unless stated otherwise.

• Being with him, whether it’s together as friends or partners, no matter what kind of relationship you have with him he’ll always find ways to prank you using his tools.

• He also seems to come up with very… clever ideas on how to catch the killer using his bombs and trip-lines (whatever those are called)… he’s made c00lkidd cry far too many times because of the bombs he keeps throwing at him (save the killers atp).

• He views you like how he views builderman, and as we all know he calls himself “buildermans right hand man” because he’s usually on standby with him, but because he’s parasocial that doesn’t really exist. But with you, he’s always standing next to you and helping you with whatever you need, it’s his way of showing his gratitude towards you.

• He can’t talk at all, so he uses sign language to communicate instead, and even if you don’t know sign language you’ll be able to quickly understand after getting to know he basics of it, and if you don’t understand it (still) I would head-canon that he carries a tiny notebook and pen around him to write as a way to communicate better.

• He’s a cocky little shit ngl, everytime he pranks you or teases you, you can clearly see under his hoodie that little, michevious smirk and continues to go on until you stop him, I also think he would enjoy carrying you skeins sometimes for fun, like bridle style or piggy back and run while doing so, and maybe pretend to fall just to startle you.

• For some random reason (this may be ooc idk) but he LOVES to hold you close and put his cloak around the both of you, I don’t know exactly the reason why he does it but I feel like it’s because he enjoys the feeling of having someone close be so close to him, and he loves to lay his head down on your shoulder and fall asleep if you both are sitting on the couch or laying on the bed together.

• I feel like the hoodie he wears was worn way to many times now, and he doesn’t wash it (and I’m guessing he can’t because of the situation he’s in) so I feel like, if you can sew, you can make him new hoodies in different colors and styles to see how they look on him, and he wouldn’t mind you putting on a few accessories on him, but DO NOT put any makeup or skin care products on his face, he doesn’t like the feeling of it (I would just force him if it’s necessary ngl).

• He would purposely use you as bait to the killers so they can fall into his traps, and then save you after, he likes saving you, especially if you lecture him afterwards lol he doesn’t give any craps whatsoever. And just to add on but, without you knowing he stalks you when he’s not around you, and he makes sure not to get caught by you, even if your friends he would definitely have this little crush on you, and even after your dating he still does this, but he just needs to make sure your being protected by him at all costs! Even if he’s not around…

• I also feel like he enjoys dancing to music, it can be hiphop, slow dancing, kpop, and he’ll DO IT. He would be a super talented dancer, and loves doing little dances whenever he traps one of the killers with his shenanigans. (He stans girl groups, tell me I’m wrong).

[dollracha]

𐙚 gentle punishment ⋆ b.c x reader

pairing: soft! daddy dom! chan x sub! fem!reader genre: smut warnings: daddy kink ⋆ light punishment ⋆ mild praise ⋆ soft dom chan ⋆ pussy rubbing ⋆ softie sweetie chan wc: 748 synopsis: wrote the draft a year ago and almost posted the list version before going to put it in a doc and realizing i actually wrote a more fleshed out story ready to post already. oops. and i'm back with an upload! life's been a whirlwind recently but i'll try to post some more.

© dollracha do not copy reupload or repost.

one of the most insane things about daddy!channie is that he can punish you without force and it works. he doesn’t spank you, or let his anger get the best of him and fuck your cunt until it’s sore. no, no. he knows you’ll enjoy being used like that. so punishing you often looks like this: one hand gripping your hip. his hand holding his cock between your pussy and panties, tip barely brushing against your clit with every little movement of his hips. and he ate you out and stopped just before you could cum so your cunt is all nice and messy and wet for him.

you try to push him away because he's been at it for so long, alternating between fingering your cunt, eating you out, and rubbing his cock against the slick lips of your pussy. every time you get close to coming he stops. his teasing is just enough to make your eyes all watery from the stimulation, and he’s just attentive enough to leave you hanging every time  you get close to the edge.

"too much, daddy, 's too much..."

"c'mon. be a good girl for daddy, yeah?"

he pushes your hair outta your face and grips your chin, thumbing across your jaw. "i know you can, baby." and if channie says you can then you can! so you lie there and take it like his good girl. that’s all he wants, is for you to realize that you’re still his good girl even when you’re being punished. good girls don’t act out and break rules.

that realization makes you mutter out an "i'm sorry, daddy."

chris doesn't stop as he responds. he knew you’d get there eventually, all it took was a little bit of coaxing. "sorry for what, babygirl?"

"for acting out earlier..."

"yeah?" he muses along, both hands gently resting on your hips. he finally stops rutting his cock against your pussy. he lets a hand trail down to your clit, slipping in between your soaked panties to rub circles on your clit. "gonna apologize to daddy properly?" 

you nod, and it takes you longer than it should to force the words out of your mouth. he's got you half dumb with all his teasing. "i'm sorry for acting out daddy."

chris smiles. he’s got a soft look on his face as he leans down to kiss your lips. "that's my girl." he praises, and sits back to admire the mess in your panties, the dazed look on your face, and the way your hands untangle themselves from the blankets to ask for his.

there's no hesitation on his end. all he wanted was for you to learn your lesson. it looks like you have. he can never resist you for too long. his hands grab yours, his thumbs trace soothingly against the back of your hand. 

"daddy," you murmur and look into his eyes. his attention shifts from your hands to your face. chris is so attentive with you. he’s also so amused by your apology. it’s what he wanted, but it never fails to make him giddy and proud. 

"what is it, baby?"

"can i cum... please?"

chan laughs. "nobody was stopping you, pretty girl." he definitely was, but you guess he’s right. he never said you couldn’t cum. he just stopped before you ever had the chance.

you think for a moment before asking another question.

"can you make me cum?" that’s an entirely different question. smart girl.

he can’t resist you. but he can't immediately reward you with whatever you want. what’s the point of punishing you if he’s just going to reward you immediately after? 

compromise. that's his specialty.

"you're gonna cum on my fingers or daddy's not gonna help you at all. understand?"

you frown, but nod. "i understand, daddy" you know him better than to ask for more, especially after you pissed him off. and he makes you cum so hard you're unable to do anything but lie there for a good minute afterwards.

maybe he did reward you a little too thoroughly… oops.

and aftercare with him is so so sweet too. he makes sure you're all clean, that you have food if you're hungry, water regardless of if you're thirsty or not, that you're cozy at his side. he can't keep his hands off you, can't stop praising and checking up on you.

he says things like: "you're such a good girl f'me... always such a good job."

"wasn't too much, was i? no... not too rough?"

© dollracha do not copy reupload or repost.

[antiastrology4ever]

Bukharans

Kaifeng Jews

Really any Jewish group that's only being brought up as a gotcha or a 'look how smart I am'

How the Ottoman Empire was great to non-Muslims including Jews and should have colonized the US instead of Britain

Ladino, Judeo-Arabic, Judeo-Berber, really any Jewish language you're bringing up to paint Yiddish as evil

Pogroms, hate crimes, what counts as a hate crime, how it's not an antisemitic hate crime if you hate the person it happened to, etc.

Which Jews are/aren't white. Instead, ask yourself why you're clinging to the artificial racist construct of the idea of whiteness, which is fake, instead of looking at ethnicity, a real, actual thing that exists. (If it makes you uncomfortable to think about whiteness being fake: why? Ask yourself that and sit with that feeling.)

Jews 'tricking' or 'outsmarting' Hashem, an idea so batshit that I cannot help but wonder if goyim ever try saying things out loud and just reflecting upon the wild-ass takes they've produced

Whatever Google told you when you looked something up

Whatever Google told you when you looked something up and you're speaking directly to a Jewish person attempting to goysplain to them

Whatever ChatGPT told you when you were too lazy to Google

Anything you were told about Jewish theology that is directly contradicted by actual theology. My favorite example is someone insisting we don't eat pork not because of kashrut, but because we believe when Satan led his rebellion and the angels fell from Heaven, some of them went into pigs. 1. that's genuinely unhinged, seek help 2. that's not an ableist joke, I mean that sincerely, that sounds like something I would say during a manic episode 3. that is directly contradicted by theology 4. I'm trying to approach you with light and love and brotherhood and all that happy horseshit but when you say things like this I have to harness every bit of willpower in my body not to laugh right in your face and it's exhausting

Bagels

Jewish characters

"This conflict in a TV show is like I/P!" No, it isn't.

"This conflict in [other media] is like I/P" and the writers, director, actors, etc. have explicitly said it's based on something else

Jewish musicians

Internet comedians who are Jewish

Hummus and who gets to eat hummus - it's not you, goyim! You put chocolate in it! Every atheist and Christian responsible should apologize to every Jew and Muslim they meet, immediately.

Actually I want you to relinquish bagel and lox, too, until you can be trusted not to say "spinach, mayo and sriracha go great on it" within earshot of anyone with good taste

If you’re not Jewish, you can kindly shut the fuck up about the following:

The Talmud

Zionism

What is or is not antisemitism

The word “goy/goyim”

Jumblr: Feel free to add more.

[yoiisa]

It is possible to write with Blue Lock Bys (Yukimiya, Reo, Rin, Michael, Shidou and Isagi) with a s/o who has high libido. Please😫😈

of course darling hehe (⸝⸝> ᴗ•⸝⸝)

all characters aged up (20+)! Tags: pwp ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ ), dirty talk, unprotected sex, p in v, begging, thigh humping (yukimiya), lingerie kink (reo), fingering (rin), oral sex f! receiving (kaiser), car sex, slight degredation (shidou), and body worship (isagi), please proceed with caution as this is smutty!!

➜ yukimiya kenyu would be such a tease with you, but like, in a knowing way ➜ like he'd pretend to jump at the opportunity to sate your appetite, but actions speak louder than words, and he would tease you by continuously putting sex off until you're actually dying for it ➜ he wants you begging for it, because then he can finally take care of you fully, caring for your every need with intense diligence ➜ he's very particular about enjoying every little detail about you, so by teasing you and drawing out your need so much, he thinks it helps him experience everything more intensely ➜ and it most certainly ensures you feel everything more intensely

"Kenyu, please~" you whine as you sit on his lap. "Please..." "What is it baby? he coos softly. It's sarcastic, you know, but still the rumble of his voice is something, and you're so desperate right now you'll take something over nothing any day of the week. Your hips begin to rub against his thighs in an unconscious effort for friction. Your eyes close as you rest your head on his shoulder. A small sigh of relief escapes your lips as Yukimiya allows the ministrations, and a tiny smile pulls at your mouth. At least there's this. Something over nothing, remember that- "Baby, I told you, at the end of this chapter, I'll-" Yukimiya's hand moves to you ass, gripping it tightly, trying to still your hips. "Kenyu, you said that three chapters ago!" your voice is high pitched and almost manic as a particularly sharp sensation of pleasure echoes through your body. You fist his shirt and nuzzle into the crook of his neck. "Mmmmm- please Ken, I . . . I can't take this anymore~" With a sigh, he closes his book. He sets it off to the side and wraps his arms around you, pulling you tighter against him. You begin kissing at his neck and jaw, your tongue darting out to taste his skin. You feel like you're floating, everything about Yukimiya furthering how deep you spiral into a sweet needy mess for him. "Okay, come on," he says sweetly, kissing your temple. "I'll give you exactly what you need my sweet baby." You can only preen at the idea that you're finally getting what you want as he lifts you bridal style from the couch and kicks the bedroom door closed behind you two with his heel.

➜ oh reo mikage my king ➜ i think reo's favorite hobby when it comes to people he cares about is spoiling them rotten, so if you have a high drive, he's all for it, 100% ➜ if you come calling, he'll drop everything for you. ➜ also, bonus! in my mind, this man has a thing for lingerie, so you better fucking believe that this man has an entire section of your closet just dedicated to different sets. ➜ maroon, black, lavender, navy blue, gold, in silk, satin, lace, and whatever else your mind can conjure up. If you can think it, he has probably bought it and fucked you in it ➜ after all, he has the time and the resources, and he's nothing if not generous, so why not make the most of it?

Reo ran his hand over his face, then threading his fingers through his hair. The hour was wearing on him, he could feel the ache settling into his bones. He stands and walks to a chaise in his study, pouring a drink for himself and sipping it. However, he barely gets two sips down his throat before the glass is being forced away from his lips. His eyes widen and he looks down to see you, with your fingers gently pushing at the rim of his glass. You're dressed in a lavender silk robe, the fabric hanging loosely over a peak of lace hugging your skin. His pupils enlarge as he takes in the teasing glimpse and you laugh softly at his expression. "I . . . thought you might be stressed," you say, taking the glass from him and setting it on a table next to the chaise. "I wanted to come help." He's silent for a moment, before a smirk tugging at his lips. A soft blush paints his cheeks and he cups your face lovingly in his hands. "Is that the only reason?" You pout and wrap your arms around his neck, giggling softly. "Hmmm . . . no~" And that's how you end up on the chaise, your legs bent over his shoulder. Your panties are pulled to the side, and your bra is still on, but your robe has been tossed somewhere far behind the two of you. Reo hovers above you, dragging moans and cries of pleasure from your mouth with each deep thrust into you. He's intoxicating, and you can't seem to get enough of him. And as you stare deep into his eyes, you know he feels the same. As you reach your peak for the third time that night, your eyes flutter closed, your back arches, and he welcomes it with a sharp inhale of his own and a kiss pressed against the hollow of your throat.

➜ i feel like rin itoshi's drive isn't the highest thing in the world ➜ like, he enjoys sex and he with you he really enjoys it, but it's never been his priority in the relationship ➜ also I feel like between soccer practices and other responsibilities he gets tired pretty easily ➜ that being said, he does still want to help you out whenever you get needy, so when he's too spent to use his cock, he resorts to his next best thing ➜ or in my opinion, my fav thing about him: his fingers

"Rin!" you gasp, clinging to his body like a madman. His fingers delve deftly inside of you, curling at all the right angles, and sending sparks of pure bliss throughout your lower body. When your hips give a particularly harsh buck, he tsks and grabs your ass with his free hand. "Stop moving so much," he growls. The deep cadence of his voice sends another thrill of pleasure in you and you nuzzle your head deep into neck. "Sorry, 't just feels so good," you mewl. "I love it so much . . . ah~!" A smirk appears on Rin's face, but just as quickly as it comes it vanishes. He licks his lips as he stares down at your disheveled appearance. Your hair is disheveled, and your bare from the waist down. You're not wearing a bra, so he can see the outlines of your chest as it heaves beneath your shirt, which hangs loosely over your frame. When you pull back from his neck, the look in your eyes almost makes him finish right then and there. They glisten with tears of pleasure, and are lidded. He can see the pleasure you're feeling etched into every line of your iris, and love is mixed within that. He feels a tight pull in his chest and he can't help himself from leaning down and catching your lips in his. His tongue immediately delves into your mouth, exploring your mouth. You moan softly into his mouth and he sighs. His fingers don't let up at all, continuing to tease and prod and touch every crevice it can reach. You start to writhe in his arms, but he holds fast, keeping you still. You have no choice but to succumb to his assault on your core. Rin kisses you as you finish on his hand, groaning as you go all sweet and pliant in his hands. When he pulls back, you slump against him like a rag doll and he huffs out a hoarse laugh. As you regain your bearings, he lifts his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean.

➜ michael kaiser operates entirely on his own schedule, so to be honest, if he's not in the mood, you're kinda screwed ➜ but if he is in the mood, YOU are in for it ➜ all his want and desire make your neediness seem like nothing ➜ also, kaiser's got some good ass stamina, so if you set him off, you better pray your drive doesn't fizzle out because this man is getting his fill of you ➜ whether it's on his tongue or on his dick

You squeal as your boyfriend practically chucks you onto the bed. You look over your shoulder and your heart stops beating after you catch a glimpse of the sheer delight on his face. His smile is cocky and powerful and is so goddam sexy. You match his smile and flip onto your back, pushing yourself up on your forearms as Kaiser practically crawls on top of you. Kisses on your mouth turn to kisses on your neck, which turns into kisses along your chest, then your stomach, and before you know it, he's shirtless, you're naked, and his kissing the inside of your thighs. Your hands thread through his hair and he stares up at you, his blue eyes lidded and wanton. His tongue is gentle at first, testing the waters of your arousal, but soon he's lapping at you like a madman. His tongue works wonders on your core, leaving you fully satisfied but still achy for more at the same time. You know it doesn't make any sense, but the "Please" and the "More" still drip from your mouth even as he's delivering everything you've been craving since morning. And he is well aware of the effect he's having on you. You can feel his mouth twist into a smirk against you and it only drives you crazier. Your hands tug at his hair and he hisses, sending sweet vibrations through your core. Your whimpers and moans continue to build in pitch and volume, before finally, you're exploding on his tongue with a sharp call of his name. When Kaiser pulls back, he takes in your mussed appearance with a heat in his eyes and a smirk on his lips. His lips and chin glisten with your fluids. He licks his lips as he settles his hips in between your thighs and gives a sharp grind. "Don't give out on me just yet liebe," he coos. "I'm not done with you yet."

➜ shidou ryusei matches your freak the best on this whole list I think ➜ he will be down for whatever and whenever you want, but also . . . wherever you want ➜ shidou lives for the thrill of life, and chases the high of something new and exciting, so if you're high sex drive comes with promises of that, sign him the fuck up!

"Ryu!" you cry out as he yanks on your hair. The two of you have climbed into the backseat of the car. You're pressed up against the leather of the seats, with his chest flush against yours. You squeal and a slutty smile etches itself onto your face as he licks your neck. "Ryu~ ah . . . oh my god- slow down-ah." "Slow down, huh?" Shidou growls, his lips pulling into a smug smile. "Why~? You were just begging for it a few minutes ago." "I-I know, but- holy shit, you- ah!" You didn't even know it was possible for someone to fuck like this, but here he was. One hand perched on the roof of the car, the other holding the dip of your waist. His face moves from your neck to between the shoulder blades, and he litters kisses there, and sucks bruises down your spine. He travels back up to your shoulder and nips at the skin there, his hips never faltering once in their rhythm. "God I love this little body of yours so much," Shidou whispers hotly against the curve of your ear. "Every single time I see you, fuck, you don't even know how hard you make me." "Mmmmmm," your head tilts back, resting on his shoulder. "I think I do," you whine. "Yeah, can you feel it babygirl? It's all hard and deep inside of you isn't it?" he laughs, the sound sharp and hoarse in your ear. To anyone else, it might be grating, but all it's serving to do right is bridge you closer and closer to the edge. "Fuck! Ryuseiii, I'm gonna- uh! Wait- I, I-!" your eyes go cross and your body shakes with violent tremors. You bite down on your lip to try and keep quiet, but Shidou presses his hand to your lips, prying them open. "Come on now, lemme hear those sweet, sweet- fucking I'm gonna come too. Oh, fuck, fuck, yes. Fuck!" The two of you lean into one another, sweat slicking your bodies as you reach your peak together.

➜ my babygirl isagi yoichi is the easiest to get seduced by you ➜ i had this idea for a fic a long time ago where he comes home and your really needy and it was this whole ovulation type thing, but basically the point boils down to, if you want it isagi will give it ➜ in my mind, he's the most flexible to appeal to whatever type of sex you want, whether it be hard and rough or soft and loving ➜ as we all know he's super adaptable and that carries over during sex, so yay to anyone who's dating him!

Sunlight filters in through the window, the early morning glow giving everything a soft halo to it, including you. You and Isagi are laying on your sides, your chest pressed against his and your leg tossed across his hips. One of your arms are wrapped around his neck and the other trapped between your bodies, your hand intwined with his. A soft blush paints your cheeks and his, and you stare into Isagi's deep blue eyes through your lashes. His strokes are deep and send soft whimpers flowing from your lips. Each whisper of his name only sends Isagi down a path for more, more, more. "Pretty," you whisper, "you look so pretty like this Yoichi, mmm!" He huffs out a dry laugh and shakes his head. Compared to how you look right now- flushed cheeks, dilated eyes, plump lips ready for kissing- he can't imagine how he could even compare to your beauty. You clench down around him and he groans. "You feel so good," he sighs, closing his eyes. His hand squeezes yours and he leans in to nuzzle his nose against yours. "Even this early in the morning . . . how do you always feel so good?" You giggle softly, the sound dissolving into a moan. "Mmmm . . . Yoichi, I love you . . . I love you so much- mmph!" He cuts you off with a firm kiss. He can feel himself getting closer and closer to the end and an embarrassing threatens to escape his lips. For the sake of his dignity, this is the best move. His tongue brushes against yours, and your quick to return his kiss with just as much fervor. He finishes before you, but that's okay. As he says while your panting from the kiss, "It's still early. We have enough time for two- maybe three rounds. Are you okay to keep going?" All you can do is nod, and he continues earnestly, flipping you onto your back and ensuring this time you finish.

a/n: this was a beast to write, especially Shidou. Although I appreciate his freak, I fear I cannot match it as well as I would like lol, so I had to really brainstorm with his to make sure they all didn't just sound the same (˶˃⤙˂˶)

[rongloa]

please make the most gut wrenching fanfic ever. i want mark to be like a crappy bf or like a messy breakup PLEASEEEE i need to cry or something

𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐭 — m.grayson drabble

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬). mark grayson x gn!reader

𝐰𝐜. 1.6k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭. break up, swearing, mark being a fucking dick (slightly ooc), mentions of depression, mark hurts you, heavy arguments, use of the word ‘hate’ (you can see where this is going)

𝐚/𝐧. frick you anon (ily don’t stop), why’d you send this ask in? :(

You remember the first time he looked at you like you were something soft. Like the world hadn’t chewed him up yet. Like he hadn’t already seen its insides, bleeding and brutal. His eyes were wide and brown and impossibly open, like a door you didn’t realize you were walking through until it closed behind you.

It was late—he was late, always—but you had waited anyway, curled up on the concrete steps outside his house in your oversized hoodie and mittens, tapping your foot to some song in your head to distract from the cold. He said he was at a group project meeting. It sounded fake, but you trusted him. You always trusted him.

He jogged up, breath fogging in the air, cheeks flushed from the night wind. He looked surprised to see you. “You waited for me?” he asked, like he hadn’t been the one to promise, “Just an hour, tops.”

And you laughed—so stupidly, stupidly in love. “Obviously,” you said, as if the answer could’ve been anything else.

As if your body didn’t already know what it meant to belong to him.

Before he became a ghost in your inbox, before the silence grew claws and wrapped around your throat, Mark had been good to you. Not perfect—never perfect—but good in the way that mattered, in the way you could build a life around.

He held your hand even when no one was looking. Tucked your hair behind your ear like it was instinct. You remember the way he’d fumble over his words when he was excited, how his cheeks flushed when he saw you across a room like he still couldn’t believe you were his. How he used to walk you home, even if it meant doubling back two neighborhoods. Just to make sure you got there safe. Just to have those last few minutes of quiet with you.

There were Sunday mornings when the world felt small enough to hold in your palm—his voice soft from sleep, your legs tangled beneath thin blankets, the smell of coffee you never drank but he always made, just in case you changed your mind. He’d sit on the couch in his old t-shirt, hair messy, face buried in some comic book you couldn’t name, and you’d watch him like you were afraid to blink.

He made you mixtapes, real ones—burned CDs with tracklists scrawled in sharpie and titles like “For the Coolest Person I Know (Don’t Roll Your Eyes).” Songs he thought you’d like. Songs that reminded him of you. Sometimes he’d get the lyrics wrong, but he’d sing them anyway, horribly off-key, like it didn’t matter if he sounded dumb as long as it made you laugh.

And he listened. Really listened. Back then, you could tell him about the weird dream you had or how your coworker was annoying you and he’d actually care. You’d talk for hours, about nothing and everything, until the sun dipped low and your voices were hoarse from too many words. He remembered little things. Your favorite brand of cereal. The way you hated the sound of styrofoam. How you always got cold after you cried, even if it wasn’t winter.

He used to kiss you like he thought it might save him. Like if he just held you close enough, long enough, he could outrun whatever waited on the other side of the sky.

But then the world crept in. Bit by bit, like water under a locked door. You didn’t notice it at first.

You excused the first time he forgot your birthday—he was fighting a villain halfway across the country. You got it. Really, you did. You said it was fine and meant it, even if you cried in the bathroom at work.

Then came the days he didn’t check in after disappearing mid-dinner. The lies got easier for him to tell. Easier for you to swallow. He wasn’t just a person anymore. He was someone. Someone the world needed more than you did. Or so you started to believe.

You told yourself you were lucky. Blessed, even. To love someone who mattered. To matter to someone who could move mountains and outrun lightning. But somewhere along the way, he stopped seeing you as part of his world, and more like a pit stop. A soft place to land when the mantle got heavy.

You used to be his secret. Then his comfort. Then his burden.

You remember the last time he touched you like he wanted to. It was almost accidental—his fingers brushing your wrist as he took the mug from your hand. There was no heat. No ache. No softness. Just contact. You looked at him, trying to find that old spark—the boy who used to look at you like you hung the damn stars—and all you saw was someone who’d already left.

It didn’t fall apart all at once. It never does. It was a thousand tiny breaks. A slow erosion of everything you thought you had. A fading. A flicker. A final, quiet extinguishing.

You used to think love was something you could hold together if you just tried hard enough.

But some people hand you broken things and blame you when they don’t work.

Of course you didn’t know he was Invincible.

No one did. He looked like a kid still trying to grow into his body. He winced when he laughed too hard and couldn’t cook for shit. There was no part of you that thought he was saving the world between algebra quizzes and late-night cartoons.

But he told you. Right before he left.

The first thing you notice is that he doesn’t look surprised to see you.

He opens the door like he was already waiting for this. For you. For the end.

Mark’s hair is unkempt. There’s a bruise healing on his jaw and a dried line of blood near his ear. He smells like the cold night air and smoke, you can smell it from the threshold of his room. You don’t ask what happened. You don’t care. Or maybe you do, but not in the same way you used to.

You step inside. Quiet. Slow.

His room is dark, save for the small desk lamp. Everything is half-unpacked, like he never really came back. Like his body is here, but the rest of him never made it down from orbit.

“I thought you were dead,” you say softly.

Mark flinches.

“You were just gone. For months, Mark. No messages. No explanation. Not even a goddamn voicemail.”

He doesn’t move. Just stands there, hands in his pockets, staring at the floor like it might split open and swallow him.

“I checked the news every day. I asked Eve, I asked your mom. Nobody knew where you went. Nobody knew if you were even coming back.”

You’re already crying and you didn’t notice until your voice cracks, until your chest hitches. You wipe your face roughly, like you’re angry for feeling this much.

“I—I couldn’t sleep,” you go on, choking it out. “I thought maybe—maybe you’d call, or come home, or—or say something. Anything. But you didn’t.”

Mark’s breathing is shallow. His fists are clenched. His voice is low when he finally says, “I didn’t know how.”

“That’s bullshit.”

He looks up.

“That’s bullshit, baby,” you say again, louder now, louder than you mean to. “You always know what to say to everyone else. To save everyone else. But when it’s me, suddenly you go silent?”

“I was trying to protect you,” he snaps, like it’s a reflex. A shield he throws up before the words can cut too deep.

You let out a sound that’s halfway between a sob and a laugh. “No. No, you don’t get to say that anymore. You don’t get to act like I’m some fragile thing you had to put on a shelf and forget about.”

Mark’s eyes are glassy now, too. Red-rimmed. Shining in the low light.

“I love you,” you say, the words breaking apart in your mouth. “I love you so fucking much, and you left me to grieve you like you died. You made me grieve you while you were still alive.”

He crosses the room in two strides, arms reaching, but you step back before he can touch you. Fingers grazing the wool of the your sweater— the one he gave you with its blue and yellow stripes.

“Don’t,” you whisper. “Please just don’t.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he says, shaking. “I thought—God, I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought—”

“You didn’t think about me.”

There it is. The truth. And it lands like a thunderclap between you.

Mark stares at you like he’s watching something beautiful collapse.

“I don’t even recognize you anymore,” you whisper. “You used to be kind. You used to show up. Now you disappear and expect me to just keep… waiting.”

“I never stopped loving you.”

You close your eyes. The tears won’t stop coming. “Then why didn’t you come back for me?”

He doesn’t have an answer.

And maybe that’s the worst part. Because you wanted to hear something. Anything. A reason big enough to make this hurt mean something. But there’s just silence.

You move towards the door, out of the his room. The one you’d spend hours in just to be with him.

Mark’s voice breaks behind you. “Please don’t go.”

Those same big brown eyes you’d fallen in love with in home economics, staring right back.

You move toward the door with tears streaking down your cheeks, fingers trembling as you reach for the handle. You can barely see straight. The lump in your throat is thick enough to choke you.

“I don’t think I can stay anymore,” Your voice cracks on the last word, “not when I’m the only one who was still trying.”

You open the door.

But before you can take a single step, you feel his hand close around your arm.

Fast. Too fast.

Mark yanks you back—not roughly, not enough to hurt, but enough to stop you in your tracks. His grip is iron. Not human. And it makes you feel even smaller than you already do.

You whip around, tears flying. “Let go of me!”

He’s breathing hard. Face flushed. Eyes frantic. “No. No, we can’t—we can’t end it like this.”

“You don’t get to decide that!”

You try to pull free, but his fingers won’t budge. It’s like being caught in a bear trap. You shove him, slap at his chest with your free hand, tears falling hot and fast.

His grip tightens to the point you follow the hand that holds you, pinned. “Let go.”

“I still love you!” he shouts, voice shaking. “Please just—just talk to me, please—”

You hit him again, fighting against him. Weak punches to his chest. You don’t care if it hurts him. You want it to. Even though you know it won’t.

“You don’t get to do this!” you cry. “You don’t get to leave me, disappear for months, break me down to pieces—and then decide you love me when it’s too late!”

Mark’s face crumples. He tries to reach for your face, but you pull back as hard as you can from the unyielding grip and push it out through pursed lips, “Don’t touch me!”

“Please do–“

“You’re HORRIBLE,” you sob, voice cracking apart as you watch your wrist twist at an angle you know it shouldn’t. “You are the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. I loved you. I trusted you. I waited and I waited and I WAITED, and you never come back!”

“I was trying to protect you—!” Crack. It burns, and it hurts in a different kind of way to what you feel in your chest. And you can’t help the wail that burns its way out of your mouth.

He drops your hand like it burned him, like he’s finally realising that maybe he’s the bad one. He hurt you, he was hurting you and he didn’t even realise it. And it fills a rage in you that burns wild. It fucking hurts, hurts so bad and you can’t express it in just one meeting of your eyes.

“No, you were protecting yourself! You were a coward, Mark! You were a COWARD, and I hate you for it!”

The words echo.

He looks like you shot him—he had the gun loaded and cocked all by himself. It’s like something inside him breaks right there. His arms fall to his sides, limp. Fat tears rolling down his cheeks as he looks as what he’s done for fucking once.

And finally, finally, you’re free.

You back away, shaking. Hand dangling at your side with fingers twisted unnaturally.

“I don’t want an apology,” you whisper. “I don’t want your love. I don’t even want you to look at me ever-fucking again.”

You pull open the door and this time—this time he doesn’t stop you.

You walk away. Sobbing. Trembling. Sick with the kind of grief that only comes when someone you love turns out to be the reason you’ll never be the same again.

Behind you, you can hear his knees hit the floor.

But you don’t turn around. Don’t even look back because if you met those big brown eyes you’d fallen for in home economics, you’d run back. You’d comfort him because that’s all you ever wanted to do.

You don’t save him.

Not this time.

The hallway of the house feels louder than it should.

And Mark kneels there alone, in the dark, finally crying by himself.

[starriniqhts]

.｡.:*☆ i love you, aishiteru, saranghae - boynextdoor.

alternate title: little things boynextdoor do when they're in love with you.

⋆｡°✩ pairing boynextdoor x gn!reader wc 0.711k tw mentions of food in jaehyun + taesan's parts genre fluff <3 author's note for all my fellow finals season survivors, i hope you all can find some comfort in sweet bonedo hehe! anyway even if you're not, enjoy and happy reading <3

⋆⭒˚.⋆ reblogs + feedback very much appreciated! ^^

✧ park sungho.

wherever your day takes you - be it classes or an office job or something else entirely - sungho will make sure you’re prepared for the day ahead. he’ll take care of the little things, such as making sure your phone is plugged into the charger before he slips into bed next you, or filling up your water bottle and wiping it down before placing it on the counter for you to take as you hurry out the door. if you’re really in a rush, he’ll even help you get ready, either assisting you in choosing an outfit or doing your makeup or styling your hair. he hopes it’s enough to make your mornings just a little bit easier.

✧ lee riwoo.

riwoo finds it adorable whenever the two of you have matching things! he’ll make it a point to give you things that you both can have and share as a subtle reminder of the other person. be it cute matching charms dangling from your phones or matching accessories that you can wear on dates, he has a mission to do them all. whenever he goes shopping and finds something he likes, he’ll instinctively start looking for something similar that you’d like too. it’s just a habit at this point, he sees you in everything he does. and he loves having a tiny reminder of you around him all the time (he hopes you do too).

✧ myung jaehyun.

suppose you’re up late at night doing work or studying… jaehyun will, without fail, bring you a cup of something soothing and warm to drink. maybe it’s some sort of tea, or milk with a little bit of sugar mixed in - whatever you like best. but he’ll pull over a chair and settle next to you with a soft smile as you look up from where you’d been slumped over on your table. your eyes are bleary with fatigue, yet you smile and gratefully accept the mug jaehyun places in your hands, sipping slowly and feeling warmth seep through your body as jaehyun talks to you quietly about anything and everything to give you a momentary break. he’ll sit with you until you finish your work, giving you a kiss when you turn to him with a smile - then it’s off to bed to get you the rest you deserve.

✧ han taesan.

taesan always gets two straws whenever he buys a drink for himself before seeing you. no, not just two straws. in fact, it’s more like two of all kinds of cutlery: two spoons, two forks, two napkins, two cups, two plates, etc., especially when you’re not there. he doesn’t know when he started doing it - it just sort of… happened. but all he knows is that when he sees you eying the cup in his hands, he pulls out the straw he got for you, and the delight in your eyes is enough to make him do it again, every single time.

✧ kim leehan.

it might seem small, but leehan will always line up your shoes together at the end of the day. when he comes home late in the night, or rather in the early hours of the morning, your shared home is dark. he knows you probably kicked off your work shoes in exhaustion as he sees them scattered across the entryway, your left shoe by the shoe rack and your right shoe next to where the hallway starts. with a small smile, he’ll place them neatly next to his own, ready and waiting for you to slip your feet into the next morning.

✧ kim woonhak.

in the ever busy life that you two share, woonhak will make it a point to sync his calendar with yours. he’ll engineer some sort of way to make sure your device displays whenever he has a schedule, and his phone to give him a notification whenever you have a class or are scheduled to have work. on that note, he’ll have notifications for events he knows you’ll have - say, an important presentation! he’ll make sure to send you a quick text or call to let you know that he wishes you luck and assure you that you'll do well, either sending you lots of happy emojis or blowing a light kiss for you to receive with a smile. 

�� ࣪⭑ © starriniqhts 2025, all rights reserved.

[vampires-official]

I'm glad you enjoy this post! :D I think it's a fun avenue to go down! I'd have to do more research to find concrete lore support, but from what I recall I think there's some older lore support too. Recalling Dracula, after he feeds from Jonathan and Lucy, he's described as being visibly younger and iirc more filled out. I think a lot of the idea of blood consumption comes from the idea of like, life consumption, so having the blood do more than sit in their stomach and acting as more of s replacement to keep them young and immortal tracks.

I think in a lot of lore, they were of course not thinking of the scientific side of things, which make sense! But because I'm a Huge Nerd(TM), with my own vampire lore I took inspiration from the small intestine absorbing nutrients into the blood stream, and decided to tweak it. Instead of sitting in the stomach, fresh blood gets leeched into their own bloodstream to revitalize them. It's a bit about replacing the blood with each feeding, so the blood in their bodies is originally from the victim they fed on. Since they're undead and can't make more, it not only decomposes over time to some degree, but they also need more blood replacement than a human would since it's also their sole source of nutrition and energy. If they haven't eaten in a while, their bodies will consume whatever blood is left in their system until they starve. With how the turning process works, their body can only process a liquid diet, and really only gets nutrients from blood. They can kinda eat tiny bites of solid food, and while they can drink anything, too many of let's say, glasses of wine, is going to make them feel horrible.

I'm still fleshing that all out, so it might change and it's less based in reality, but I've had a fun time thinking about it/designing it so far. I hope that's what you mean by my thoughts on it!

Does anyone want to hear about the math I did to try and figure out how much blood a vampire would need to drink (if we're basing it off them having a similar caloric intake as we do?)