#alexei shostakov x platonic!reader

[mallory524]

Hai !!!:3

I was wondering if you could do the thunderbolts witha platonic child figure! Reader that came from the streets,? They were on the bad side of the streets before they were taken in, basically they act like a cat, and the avengerz treat her like a cat they took in? Even john,

And how do they show their care in their own ways?

(this is such a sweet idea i love this)

thunderbolts with a child figure :)

tags- platonic thunderbolts family fluff, small mentions of some character's backstories, 6 months after thunderbolts*

notes- did something a little different with the format this time, hope u enjoy this

Taking you in was a very spur of the moment decision, so of course they were not prepared.

The thunderbolts/new avengerz aren't necessarily considered to be the most gentle people in the world, but they all do have a softer side to them for sure.

They converted a spare room into your room, and let you decorate it however you like. If you needed help with anything while decorating, they were all happy to help you.

Whoever goes to the grocery store usually ends up bringing you along. At first, that was because no one knew what you liked to eat so they needed you to tell them. Now it's the routine.

They start to worry that you're getting bored just sitting around the tower all the time, so they decide you all need to get out and do something fun. There was an amusement park day trip that got very out of hand. Ava got in a fight with someone in line, you joined the fight and it got kinda messy, Alexei spent all of his cash on games, you lost Walker, and then in all the chaos of trying to find Walker, you wandered off and they briefly lost you. All in all it was a really fun day.

The first time Valentina shows up to the tower after you've moved in, they all frantically shoo you back into your room, like she's their landlord and you're the cat they weren't supposed to get. She doesn't find out about you living there for a LONG TIME.

Yelena is always there to listen to you. You keep to yourself a lot of the time, but you know she will listen to any of your worries, no matter the place or time of day, if you ever decide you want to confide in her.

Considering her past, it's no surprise that she doesn't want you to be a part of any of their "work". This is a different situation than hers, of course. You're already pretty tough, you wouldn't be forced to do anything wrong, and the thunderbolts are (relatively) good people, but she's still adamant that you will not be getting involved in all this danger at an early age like she was.

On really boring days, you'll play board games, bake something, go out on a quiet walk around the city, anything she can think of to pass the time and entertain you.

Sometimes you'll walk into her room and just sit down on the ground. She used to think you did this because you wanted to talk, but she very quickly realized you liked just sitting in silence.

Bucky is actually really protective of you. He knows you can take care of yourself, but he figures that since you have all these people around to help and protect you now, you shouldn't have to worry about anything anymore.

He doesn't want you anywhere near Valentina. Bucky isn't sure what it is specifically that he's worried about, he just knows that nothing good could come of you two getting to know each other.

At first, you thought Bucky was annoyed about you living there, but the day Valentina found out about you, you were sneaking around and you heard Bucky defend you and say that this was none of her business. That was when you realized how much he really cares about you.

You show Bucky how to use Spotify and he ends up just listening to a lot of the music that you like to play when you're in the car together... and music from the 40s that you put in a little playlist for him.

Bucky goes to talk to Sam about the whole Avengers/Avengerz thing in person, and tag along. You don't say much, you just kind of hang out in the back of the room. Sam is very confused.

"Bucky who is that?"

"Oh that's y/n. Sam, the reason I'm here-"

"No. That doesn't explain anything. Who is this? You guys adopt a kid or something?"

Ava really cares about you, and as tough as she usually is, she's not afraid to show you how much she cares. She knows young people need that. She certainly did.

She relates to you a lot, in the sense that you both enjoy the quiet and you kind of keep to yourselves most of the time.

You do end up having some things in common: you share clothes sometimes, you enjoy some of the same movies, and overall you both enjoy living in the tower.

Ava knows how Yelena feels about you having any kind of role in the team beyond just living there. She feels the same way, having been made to fight at a relatively young age herself. They both want you to stay safe.

However, she thinks it's important you get better at defending yourself, so you practice together a lot.

Everyone thought Bucky would be the most hesitant to take you in, but it was actually John. His concerns were all made in the guise of "This will slow us down, we aren't their parents or something," but everyone knows what it really is. He's worried. He doesn't want to fail another kid and he doesn't want you getting too close to the insanity that is the Thunderbolts' lives.

He very quickly warms up to the idea of having you around, though. You're a nice addition to the group.

When you first join, he notices you aren't super affectionate, but you did hug Yelena one time, and he doesn't know whether or not he's supposed to hug you too, so he ends up awkwardly patting you on the head. Yelena and Ava make fun of him about it constantly.

John took it upon himself to paint your room whatever color you wanted when you first moved in. He also helped with an furniture you needed moved, because "hey it's not trouble I can pick that up with one arm, look!"

John will sit on the couch and watch tv with you for hours. Trashy reality shows, complicated plot heavy mini series, old sitcoms, he really will watch anything.

It becomes a bit of a routine. Someone will ask you to do something tonight, and John will just go "no, sorry, we have plans. we've gotta finish season 3 of (some show no one else has any interest in)" and you'll smile and nod in agreement.

Alexei is, of course, the one with the most unabashedly enthusiastic dad energy.

He's so proud of everything you do. If you helped with breakfast even a little? That is the best meal he has ever had. You made a good comeback at the dinner table tonight? He laughs way harder than he has any reason to. You found something you drew? He's ask to keep it, and if you say yes, he'll keep that in his pocket every day from now on.

He loves feeling like a dad again.

He keeps trying to take you shopping and buy you whatever you want.

"Aye the money's burning a hole in my pocket, come on, what do you want to get?"

He asks for your input on the Avengerz logos and jackets. All of his ideas are absolutely insane, so you try to help, but he mostly just talks over you because he's so excited.

He tries the jackets on you like you're a mannequin and has you walk out into the living room to show the team.

You have a very hard time not laughing when he proudly takes credit for the most ridiculous thing you've ever worn. Yelena jokingly scolds him for involving you in the creation of this monstrosity.

He really thinks he's "hip" and that he knows what the kids are into these days. He is absolutely wrong 8/10 times, but it's quite endearing to watch him try to use popular slang to sound cool. He doesn't seem to realize that he doesn't have to do all that to make you feel welcomed; he's already done that without realizing it.

You know who's actually kinda knowledgeable about what the kids are into these days? Bob.

You and him like a lot of the same music, so you have a few collaborative playlists to introduce songs to each other.

You kind of get along with him the best anyway because you're the most similar. You're both quiet, you both like sitting in the corner of the room with your friends but not really saying anything, and both of your pre-thunderbolts lives were rough.

If anyone wants you kept far away from Valentina more than Bucky, it's Bob. He is well aware how skillfully she can manipulate vulnerable people when she things they might be useful to her. Learning Bob's story is when you finally get why the team doesn't hates her so much.

He wasn't sure how your friendship would change when you found out that the horrible void thing that happened six months ago was his fault, but he's blown away by how understanding you are. You remind him of the rest of the team in that way.

He kinda appreciates that he's not the newest addition to the group anymore. He gets to help you adjust to living there and make you feel at home like he's started to.

Whenever Bob gets a milkshake, he orders two, because he knows you'll be waiting in the living room when he gets there. One time he forgot to get you something when he went out, and you didn't say anything but you looked disappointed, and he felt so bad that he went right back out the door to buy another one.

He knows about your secret "new avengers incorrect quotes" account that's all things the group actually said.

Under "source" you always just put "?"

He found it one day while he was scrolling on his phone, and he was really worried the place had been bugged. He eventually noticed that you would immediately pick up your phone whenever someone said something insane.

He never mentions this to you in fear that you'll stop. You're so close to 600 followers.

Overall, your life with the Thunderbolts is pretty great. They all really care about you and want you to thrive, and you've never felt so safe and loved.

[yelenasburnbook]

Lifeline

———————————————————

Pairing(s): Bob Reynolds x Fem! Reader - Platonic! Yelena & Reader Dynamic - Platonic!Bucky & Reader Dynamic 💞

Summary: After a mission goes wrong, you’re forced to confront just how much your best friend means to you, and how far you’ll go to keep her alive.

Warnings: Mentions of Violence, Gore, Injury, Blood, Medical Settings, Panic Attacks, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Distress, Explosions, & Probably too much Dialogue

A/N: Between summer classes, my sisters graduation party, and my job, this took me a lot longer than I thought it would. That being said, I’m very proud of it! I changed up the writing style to 2nd Person POV, because that’s how I used to do it, and I like it better. Enjoy this hurt/comfort that I promised 🩷

Translation: Дорогая - Sweetheart

———————————————————

The mission was going well. Suspiciously well.

Bob and Bucky had already cleared the north wing, taking out the remaining guards and disabling the perimeter defense grid without much resistance. Ava had slipped through the lower floors like a… well a ghost, disabling the compound’s internal sensors and wiping all surveillance data before the enemy even realized she was there. John was waiting on the jet, prepared to take off incase of an emergency extraction.

Alexei was not allowed on stealth missions.

It had all gone a little too smoothly. No alarms, no last minute reinforcements. Just a quick, surgical takedown.

Which made the final step feel almost too easy.

“Intel should be in the west records room,” Ava reported over comms, her voice calm and efficient, “It’s not on the servers, so someone’s keeping hard copies. Probably a hard drive. You might have to search for it though.”

“I sent you the hallway blueprints,” Bucky added, “No booby traps, no guards posted. Should be clean.”

“Should be,” Yelena muttered, side eyeing you as the two of you advanced through the smoky hallway, “Which means it absolutely won’t be.”

You snorted, “Oh come on. Maybe for once a mission could actually go right.”

She narrowed her eyes at you, “You just jinxed us, you know.”

“Please. That’s not real.”

She smacks your shoulder lightly, “That’s exactly what someone would say right before they get blown through a wall.”

You and Yelena moved through the smoke choked hallway side by side, weapons drawn, boots crunching over shattered glass. You were supposed to clear the west wing of the compound; secure the hard drive with intel, take out any remaining stragglers, and rendezvous at the extraction point.

“Bet you five bucks I find the drive first,” You murmured, flicking your eyes across the scorched corridor ahead.

Yelena scoffed, “That’s it? What will I do with that? Buy half of a New York coffee?

You grinned, “Fine, ten bucks says I get to it before you.”

“Make it twenty, and loser has to scrub the showers,” She challenges.

“You’re on.”

The complex rumbled slightly, and Yelena’s arm stuck out in front of you. The two of you halted your movements, listening for potential threats. After a few beats of silence, you both quietly carried on.

She continued the conversation, murmuring, “You’re going to regret it when you’re elbow deep in Alexei’s hair clogs.”

You gagged audibly, “No no no, that’s foul. I take it back. No showers.”

“You can’t take it back you coward!” She hissed softly, her finger jabbing into your shoulder as she stepped over the body of a downed Hydra soldier.

“Fine!” You roll your eyes, “If I lose I’ll clean the showers, but if I win,” You paused for a second, thinking, “You’re doing my laundry and folding my socks into little burritos like you do yours.”

Yelena scowled, “I don’t fold my socks into burritos.”

“You do. I’ve seen it. You treat your socks better than your teammates.”

Before Yelena could fire back, Bucky’s voice came back over comms, low, amused, maybe slightly annoyed, “Is this really happening? Are we wagering chores in the middle of a hostile zone?”

Yelena taps her comms with a smirk, “It’s called multitasking old man.”

A low, familiar hum vibrated through your ears, “Sounded more like flirting to me.” Bob added, teasingly.

You grinned, tapping your own earpiece, “You jealous?”

His dry tone didn’t miss a beat, “Of the world’s weirdest foreplay? Not even a little.”

You shrugged, “Sounded a tiny bit jealous.”

Bob’s chuckle came soft and low over the line, “Eyes up, sweetheart.”

The two of you continued on, stealthy, and silent.

You and Yelena had always moved like this; side by side, shoulder to shoulder, like you were born knowing each other’s rhythm. It hadn’t started that way. She didn’t let people in easily, and you’d spent the first few weeks trading dry sarcasm and fake glares across briefing tables. But something had shifted.

Maybe it was the shared past. The haunted edges. The quiet understanding between two people who knew what it meant to be used, and to fight your way back to yourself. Maybe it was that she never treated you like you were fragile, and you never treated her like she had to be unbreakable.

Whatever it was, it stuck. And before long, she was your best friend.

Not the kind you just trained with. She was the one who’d knock on your door at midnight because she found a movie she knew you’d hate and wanted to make you watch it anyway. The one who made fun of your combat stance while bandaging your hand. The one who stood between you and your demons without a second thought.

Sister. Best friend. Lifeline.

And now she was smiling like none of this was dangerous.

“You coming or what?” Yelena teased, already stepping into the next corridor.

You smirked, “I’m just making sure you don’t walk into another tripwire.”

“Please. I am the tripwire.” You made a face at her that practically screamed, that doesn’t make any sense.

Over comms, Bucky sighed, “And I’m the one with a migraine now.”

You both laughed quietly.

The two of you turned the corner into what looked like an old generator room. The walls were charred, exposed wires were hanging; still sparking, and… a sound. Just a hum at first, quietly buzzing through the walls. Then rising.

A trap.

Your expression dropped, “Yelena-”

A flash of light. A sharp beep. Neither of you even had time to turn around.

The explosion hit like a thunderclap, blinding white and deafening. You slammed into the ground with a force that stole the breath from your lungs. Your back hit something hard, maybe debris, maybe a wall, you couldn’t tell. All you knew was that your ears were ringing painfully, the air was thick with dust, and something was burning. Your whole body hurt, head pounding with every beat of your heart.

And Yelena-

Yelena was nowhere in sight.

You blinked rapidly, trying to orient yourself. Blood dripped down your temple, warm and sticky. Your vision swam, and the comms were a static mess in your ear, with nothing but garbled voices and white noise.

You tried to push yourself up, your arms trembling beneath you, and legs unsteady. Every fiber of your being screamed for you to stop, and your powers sparked faintly at your fingertips; weak and unfocused.

Then you saw her.

A pile of rubble. Blonde hair. An arm too still.

“No,” You breathed hard, stumbling forward on instinct, “No, no, no- Yelena!”

The sound of your own voice made your head throb and your vision blur. The vibrations in your skull sent a white hot pain down your neck and you groaned, pushing yourself forward.

You dragged yourself across the broken ground, pushing aside scorched metal and fractured concrete to reach her. Your hands shook, blood smearing your palms, and you weren’t sure if it was yours or hers.

When you finally uncovered Yelena, she was still breathing, but barely. Her body was limp, unconscious, and stained with ash and blood.

Your heart plummeted.

Protocol in this situation was to fall back, to regroup. But you couldn’t move, you couldn’t leave her. Your arms found themselves hooked under Yelena’s, as you fought your own fatigue, and dragged her out of the rubble. Your body was trembling, tired, and nearly collapsing under the weight. But your eyes were wide and frantic, and your heart was thumping faster than you thought it could.

She had to be okay, she just had to be.

“Y/N! Fall back, now!” Bucky’s voice barked through the comms.

But you didn’t answer. Couldn’t. You knelt beside Yelena’s body, your own chest heaving, tears mixing with the soot on your face. For the first time in a long, long time, you didn’t know what to do.

——————

The jet was moving fast, cutting through clouds and sky, but time still felt too slow.

Yelena was laid out across the med-table, strapped in, Bucky and Ava working furiously to stabilize her. Blood was still seeping from the gash in her side, and her breaths remained uneven. The sight of her made your stomach twist. You hovered nearby, trying your best to help. But your vision was still blurry, and the pounding in your head made you nauseous and dizzy.

Bob watched you warily, not straying too far.

“I can help. Just-” You stepped forward, reaching for a roll of gauze someone tossed near the med table. But your hands were shaking too badly to grip it.

“Y/N,” Bucky said quietly.

“I can do it, just let me-” You stammered, your voice ragged as you reached back for the gauze near the edge of the tray. Your fingers barely curled around it before it slipped from your grasp again, hitting the floor with a soft thud. Your breath hitched, short and frantic, “Shit- I can-”

Bucky gently stepped between you and the table, bending slightly to your level. His voice was softer than usual, “You’re not okay. You have to step back.”

“No, no no no, she’s not okay! She needs help! I need- I need to help her, I can’t-” Your voice cracked, raw with panic, “She’s not waking up, she’s not-”

Bucky glanced to Bob, who didn’t hesitate.

He reached out and gently pulled you away from the chaos, wrapping his arms around you even as you resisted, “Hey, hey- sweetheart, look at me.”

“No! Let me go, Bob- she needs-”

“She needs them right now. You need me.”

You shook your head, body trembling in his grasp, eyes still locked on the blood still soaking through Yelena’s suit. You tugged at his arms once more.

“Stop,” he whispered, “Breathe, honey. Just breathe.”

You could only whimper in response, finally feeling the affects of your sudden movements, the throbbing pain fading back into your skull.

Bob held you tighter, “You’re hurt, you’re bleeding, and you’ve probably got a concussion. Let me help you.”

Your hands fisted in his shirt, trembling hard, “I can’t-I can’t think. Oh god what if she-” Bob shut that down quickly.

“She’s alive. You saved her.” He soothed, hand stroking your back softly, but you shook your head, crying now, silent tears streaking your soot covered cheeks.

“She wasn’t moving-” you were cut off,

“Baby breathe. Come on, in through your nose.”

You were gently guided to sit against the wall of the jet, his body pressed to yours, one hand cradling the back of your head, and you took slow breaths, “Good girl. That’s it. I’ve got you.”

As your breathing began to steady, he carefully examined the wound on your temple. The blood still hadn’t clotted. He reached for the medical kit, using its contents to gently dab at the wound. He grabbed the small penlight, testing it before meeting your eyes.

“Follow the light, but keep your head still.” He ordered softly, heightened concern etched into his features.

You flinched, but obeyed.

Your left eye lagged slightly, and the dilation of your pupils was severely delayed. Bob’s expression turned grim, as he turned to the others, “Concussion confirmed,” he relayed, and Bucky grunted in response. He turned back to you, “You’re gonna sit still for the rest of the flight.”

You grimaced, “But-”

“No buts. Head down pretty girl. Let me wrap this.”

You let your head fall against his shoulder as he gently patched you up, arms still trembling. Your eyes flicked back to Yelena every few seconds, never staying away for long.

Your breathing was slow again, but still ragged, trembling hands clinging to his sleeve as he cleaned the wound, pressing gauze gently to the side of your head.

“I thought she was dead,” You whispered.

“She’s not,” Bob replied, firm but gentle, “You saved her.

——————

Back at the Tower, the med team was waiting on the landing pad. Yelena was whisked away on a stretcher. You immediately tried to follow, stumbling forward with glassy eyes.

Bob’s hand closed around your waist the second you tried to push forward.

“Y/N,” he said gently, voice edged with urgency, “Slow down.”

But you didn’t. You twisted in his grip, eyes locked on the medbay doors just ahead. Your boots skidded on the tile as you tried to wrench free.

“I have to be with her-”

Bucky stepped in from the left, cutting off your path completely, “You’re next,” he said, voice low but unmoving, “You don’t look good, Y/N.”

“I don’t care,” you protested, throat tightening.

“You need to let the doctors take a look at you,” Bob murmured behind her, voice low and soft, “You’re not okay.”

“I’m fine!” You snapped, louder than you meant to.

Then your knees dipped.

Bob stepped in closer, bracing you as gently as he could, “Okay, hey- hey. I’ve got you. Just breathe for a second.”

“You’re not fine ,” Bucky said quietly, “You’re disoriented, bleeding, and barely staying on your feet.”

You closed your eyes tight, forehead pressing into Bob’s shoulder as the hall tilted sideways. Your legs felt too far away, and your heart wouldn’t slow down.

“I don’t want to leave her,” you whispered.

Bob pressed a kiss to your uninjured temple, “You’re not leaving her, honey. You’re letting someone help you, so you don’t end up needing that hospital bed too.”

You hesitated, then looked up at Bucky, eyes brimming with tears.

“Promise me,” you whispered, “You’ll stay with her.”

“Swear it,” Bucky said, firm and sure.

Bob gently brushed the hair off your cheek, “And I’m not leaving you either.”

Your shoulders sagged, finally giving out.

“Okay,” you breathed, “Okay. Just please, hurry.”

“We will,” Bob murmured, adjusting his hold as he started guiding you back, “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you patched up.”

——————

The moment the med team cleared you (mild concussion, bruised ribs, no internal bleeding) you were already half out of the chair.

You didn’t wait for the nurse to finish her sentence. You slid off the exam table and made it three steps toward the door, heart pounding and legs ready to sprint.

But Bob was faster.

He stepped in front of you just as you reached the hallway, one hand gently pressing to your shoulder, the other hovering at your waist in case you stumbled.

“Easy,” he said softly, but firmly, “You still look like you might tip over.”

“I have to see her,” you said, voice hoarse, “I’ve waited long enough.”

“I know,” Bob murmured, gaze searching yours, “And you’re going to. But not if you faceplant in the hallway trying to run there.”

You faltered, chest tight, the instinct to bolt still coiled beneath your ribs like a spring.

Bob softened, “Walk with me. Please.”

Your shoulders dropped, groaning in annoyance as you agree, “This whole concussion thing sucks ass.”

That elicited a chuckle from him as he guided you down the hall to Yelena’s room, “I could always grab one of the wheel chairs. Strap you in, blanket over your lap, maybe even a juice box. Really complete the whole ‘I’m severely concussed’ look.”

That earned him a light slap to the shoulder and a correction of being “mildly” concussed, the air feeling lighter for the first time in a few hours. That was, until you reached the recovery room.

Yelena was still out cold, pale and bandaged, but breathing steadily.

Bucky stood up from the bedside chair, gesturing for you to take his place. You took him up on that, and dropped into the seat beside her. You were curled in on yourself, one arm hugging your middle, and the other resting lightly on the edge of the bed. Bucky stood in the doorway, watching quietly.

“She’s okay,” Bob whispered again, laying a hand on your shoulder.

You nodded, chewing on your your bottom lip nervously. You believed him, but that didn’t mean you were going anywhere.

——————

Four more hours passed, and you didn’t move.

Not when the nurse came in to check vitals. Not when Bob quietly tried to coax you into eating something. Not when Bucky mumbled that you should at least stretch your legs or, “your spine’s gonna fuse to that chair.”

You barely blinked, eyes fixed on Yelena’s still face. Her head was wrapped in bandages now, and you imagined the gash in her side was the same way under the gown. An IV line fed fluids back into her, and the color just was just barely returning to her cheeks. But she hadn’t moved.

So you stayed.

Bob stayed too, right beside you in the other chair, one knee bouncing anxiously. Bucky leaned against the far wall with his arms crossed, chewing silently on the inside of his cheek, watching you more than her.

The other’s were coming and going, not wanting to crowd the room, but still wanting to make sure Yelena was alright.

Alexei didn’t stay long. Couldn’t stay long. Even though he knew she would be alright, he couldn’t bare to see his daughter like that. He left quickly, mumbling something about, “-preparing her favorite soup for when she wakes.”

Now the room was quiet and still, and you were trying your hardest to keep your eyes open.

Then, without warning, Yelena stirred.

It was subtle; a twitch of her fingers, the barest shift in her brow, but it might as well have been an earthquake.

You straightened so fast you startled Bob, and your breath caught in your throat, hand reaching for hers instinctively.

She groaned softly, her face scrunching. Her lips parted, dry and chapped, and her eyelids cracked open just the tiniest bit.

Her voice came out rough and low, “I told you so.”

You blinked, “What?”

“You jinxed it”

Bucky snorted from across the room, “Unbelievable,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head.

You let out a soft, watery laugh and covered your mouth with your hand. The sound surprised even you, half-sob, half-relief.

Bob chuckled under his breath, “She’s awake five seconds and already picking a fight.”

Yelena’s mouth twitched into the faintest, sleepy smirk, “Felt wrong to leave you unsupervised.”

“Shut up,” you whispered, smiling through the sting in your eyes, “I should’ve left you under that pile of rubble.”

Yelena opened her eyes a little more, focusing on you slowly, “You didn’t?”

“Unfortunately,” you muttered, voice tight with affection.

She didn’t comment further, but her lips twitched upward for just a moment. She looked around the room with exaggerated slowness, “Ugh. Medbay. Lame.”

“You almost died,” you said pointedly.

“Keyword there is almost,” she croaked, “I am not so easy to kill Дорогая.”

A fond smile reached your lips, glad for her to finally be back, “You’ve been unconscious for hours.”

“Yeah, well… I needed the nap.”

Bob raised an eyebrow, “You almost gave her a panic attack.”

“She did panic,” Bucky said, now walking over with a smirk, “Went full ‘deer in headlights.’ Even tried to assist with field surgery in the jet while she could barely stand.”

Your mouth dropped open, “Okay well-”

Bob leaned in slightly from his spot beside the bed, his voice low but laced with just enough dry humor to soften the reprimand, “You also almost collapsed. Twice. And then proceeded to argue with me, Bucky, and the doctor, about how you were ‘fine’ while bleeding from the head.”

You winced a little at the reminder.

“I didn’t argue…”

Bob raised his brows, unimpressed, and Yelena blinked at you slowly, like her brain was still buffering.

“You’re hurt?” she asked, her tone shifting just slightly; still scratchy, still dry, but gentler now. Concern lingered behind her tired eyes.

You hesitated, then gave a reluctant nod, “Concussion. Couple bruised ribs.”

She stared for a second longer, processing.

Then, “You absolute dumbass.”

You laughed, relieved at the familiar edge in her voice, “Oh come on.”

“You dragged my unconscious body through a half-collapsed hallway while you were concussed and barely standing?”

“…Yes?” You deadpanned, with an attitude that said, and I would do it again.

Bucky gave you a pointed look, “She also refused help, wouldn’t sit down, forgot how breathing worked…”

“Okay,” you mumbled, holding up a hand, “Everyone here is being a little dramatic.”

Yelena’s voice was a raspy mutter, “You’re like a baby duck with a death wish,” she gave a tiny shrug, or tried to, but winced halfway through, “All wobbly and confused, just waddling into danger.”

You let out a shaky laugh, pressing your palm to your face, “That is… the most insulting and adorable thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Bob, still hovering nearby, smirked, “Honestly? She’s not wrong.”

You turned to him, offended, “You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“I am,” he said, already grinning, “That’s why I helped stop the baby duck from passing out on the jet.”

You didn’t even try to fight the grin that crept its way to your face.

She rolled her eyes, but the concern was still there in the tight way she held your hand, “I missed being conscious, not being able to mock you was really boring.”

“Shut up!”

Bob smirked at that, but gently laid a hand on your shoulder, “Mock her later. She’s got about fifteen minutes of energy left before I physically carry her to bed.”

Bucky cleared his throat, “Speaking of that, I’m getting some sleep.

You looked up, “You alright?”

He gave a small nod, eyes steady on the two of you, “You’re both still breathing. That’s enough for me tonight.”

His tone was quiet, but the weight behind it said everything he didn’t. Relief, worry, care. All packed into that single sentence. Yelena tilted her head slightly, “Wow. That was almost… sweet.”

You smiled, “A little poetic, even.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes at both of you, deadpan, “Don’t get used to it.”

“Oh, we won’t,” Yelena replied, grinning through the soreness, “Wouldn’t want you pulling a hip trying to express feelings.”

You bit back a laugh, and he sighed dramatically, shaking his head as he walked to the door, “Every time I try to be nice…”

“Night Bucky,” the three of you said in unison, still smiling.

He glanced back one last time, “Proud of you. Both of you.”

Then he was gone, leaving the room a little quieter but warmer. The moment he disappeared through the medbay doors, Bob turned back to you with that knowing look; part patient, part amused, all gentle concern.

“Alright, duckling,” he murmured, brushing his fingers lightly over your temple where the bandages still sat, “Time to sleep before you collapse in this chair and I have to explain to the nurses why you’re drooling on the floor.”

You rolled your eyes, too tired to come up with anything clever, “You are obsessed with dragging me places.”

He grinned, “Only when you’re too stubborn to go on your own.”

With a little help, you stood. Your legs felt unsteady, and you leaned into him without thinking, letting his arm wrap around your waist, solid and steady. You glanced down at Yelena, your smile fading a bit.

She was still propped up a little, eyes half-lidded, but awake enough to catch the shift in your demeanor, “I’m fine,” she said. “Go.”

You hesitated, gaze flicking to the chair beside her bed, “Do you want someone to stay with you?”

Yelena snorted softly, “What, you think I’m scared of the dark now?”

You gave her a sheepish smile.

“I’m okay,” she assured, her voice softer this time,“I’m sure the nurses will be in and out tonight. Go let Bob hover over you for a while. He lives for it.”

“I do,” Bob said, not even pretending to deny it.

Yelena looked over at him, “If she doesn’t sleep at least six straight hours, lock her in her room.”

He gave a short nod, “Already planning on it.”

You exhaled a quiet laugh, leaning down to gently squeeze her hand one last time, “Don’t scare me like that ever again.”

“No promises,” Yelena muttered, smirking, but then her features softened, “Thank you. For saving me. For staying.”

You smiled again, but it felt a little heavier this time, more vulnerable, “Always.”

Yelena’s voice was quiet now, sleepy, “Goodnight, little duck.”

“Goodnight, Lena.”

Bob gave her a two-finger salute, then gently turned you toward the door, his hand warm and steady on your back.

And as you let him lead you down the dim corridor back to the living space part of the tower, you felt that weight in your chest finally start to ease; not gone, but softer. Safer.

Because she was okay.

And so were you.

[writerslittlelibrary]

Don't worry about a thing

masterlist

summary: your parents needed the extra money, even if it meant making you work for it. what happens when two women disagree with your parents methods?

pairing: dark!Wandanat x teen reader, dark!Yelena x teen reader, dark!Melina x teen reader, dark!Bucky x teen reader, dark!Alexei x teen reader

warnings: alcoholism, dark Wandanat, dark themes, kidnapping, it’s kinda fluff as well

genre: angst, fluff

words: 2690

a/n: this kinda turned from dark!wandanat to a very soft fic. I mean, reader still gets kidnapped, but Wandanat are so sweet about it… :)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

You had been working in the cafe for a while. Your parents needed the money, and to be honest, you needed it too. 

Your parents had been drinking since you were a young child, and you now you were a teenager, which means it is legal for you to work. Your parents didn’t hesitate to push you towards a job. With all their money going to alcohol, they needed your money for either food, or more drinks. 

On the side, you would save a little bit of money, trying to save enough to hopefully one day go to college.

Today it was a day like any other. 

You had just gotten back from school, and you went to the cafe immediately. However, this time was a little different. For the last couple of weeks, you had the weird feeling that someone was watching you. There had been a few people that asked about a lot of details from you, which creeped you out a bit.

At first, it was a red-headed woman. She looked to be around her thirties, and she was very kind. 

Then, there was a brown haired woman. She asked how you were doing, whether you were still in school, and also how you would be getting home. She seemed concerned for your safety. After all, it had been late that day.

Then, a blonde haired woman had walked in. She went into the cafe with a dog, and after ordering for herself and her dog, she offered to walk you home. You had told her that you were fine, and that your father was picking you up, but as usual, he hadn’t showed up. The woman insisted on walking you home, and you had allowed her. What was the harm, right? She was very kind and respectful, and her dog was nice.

After that, you had a week of boring people, as usual. People who didn’t give a single shit about your life. People that only cared about the fact that they had been waiting on their coffee for five whole minutes.

You figured you had just been imagining things, and that the three women you had met where just genuinely kind. 

However, after that week ended, weirdly invasive people started to come into the cafe again.

At first it was a man. He was wearing gloves, and he looked a little scary. His hair was brown, and he was tall and looked strong. However, when he ordered you decided he was actually very sweet. He talked with you the entire night, thanking you when you served him his drinks and food, and he tipped very well. 

A week later, this week, you spotted the red haired woman from a few weeks ago sitting at one of the tables. 

She wasn’t alone this time. The brown haired woman, who you had seen earlier as well, was sitting beside her. You walked up to them with a smile, pushing your odd feelings down and getting ready to serve them just like any other day.

The women smiled at you, and after giving you their order, they continued a conversation of their own.

You brushed your anxiety off of yourself, making their drinks and continuing with your shift. However, after serving them and getting back to another costumer, the man you had seen earlier walked in. He looked a little angry, but smiled kindly when he met your eyes. You smiled back, but before you could ask for his order, he went to sit down with the other two women. 

Again, you didn’t think much off it, rather just pushing the anxiety away and continuing with your job.

It started to get really weird, though, when the blonde haired woman walked in. She was accompanied by her fluffy dog, which didn’t hesitate to greet you with a wagging tail. You bent down to pet him, when you noticed a slightly red streak running along his fur. 

You went to brush your hand over it, but the dog retreated back to it’s owner.

She smiled at you and stopped at the bar, ordering the same thing she ordered a few weeks ago. After doing so, she went to sit down with the other man and women. Why did they know each other? Had it been a coincidence that you had all seen them before? Were they watching you?

You shook the thoughts from your head, preparing the woman’s order, putting some whipped cream into a cup for her dog, before bringing it over to the table. 

You put it down with a smile, grabbing the empty two cups and asking if you could get them anything else.

“We’re alright, sweetheart,” the brown haired woman spoke with a gentle smile.

You nodded and retreated back to the counter, ready to serve other costumers, before you realised, there were no other costumers.

The entire cafe was empty, minus the four people sitting in the corner.

Odd, this was usually such a busy time. 

You didn’t think much off it, rather deciding to start cleaning up a bit in the hopes of getting home earlier tonight. When you were about to shut off the coffee machine you heard the little bell ring, indicating that another costumer had walked in.

You turned to look at them, discovering that it was a tall, large man. He had tattoos covering his arms, and a long beard. He was followed by a woman, who smiled at you before she pulled the man over to the table where the other people were sitting. You hadn’t seen them before, but you did find it odd. 

When your colleague told you she was heading home for the night, you agreed to closing up, telling her to get home safe. 

After she left, you glance over at the table impatiently. They had been sitting there for hours, and you wanted to get home on time tonight. You still had a few tests to study for, and there was a project you were supposed to hand in yesterday.

You stood impatiently at the counter until the blonde woman walked up to you. You had hoped she wanted to pay, but instead she simply asked for a donut. 

You hid your annoyance and got her what she wanted, smiling at her when you handed the sweet treat over. 

“How are you getting home today?” she asked as she took the donut from you, taking a bite. 

“My father was supposed to pick me up, but I suppose I’ll be walking once again,” you replied, closing the treat cabinet. 

“I can give you a ride if you’d like. My parents are probably leaving with my sister anyway, so there will be a car left that I’ll have to drive,” she explained, giving her dog a few pets when it excitedly walked over to her. She snuck the dog some pieces of the donut while praising her for being such a good girl.

“That’s very kind, but I’m sure I’ll be fine,” you replied, not wanting to get into a strangers car.

“Don’t be silly. It’s no problem, I promise. A young girl like you shouldn’t be out on the street alone at this time. It’s dangerous, someone could hurt you,” the woman reasoned, and you thought for a moment before agreeing. 

It did seem dangerous to walk home alone in the dark, and this woman was very kind. There was no way that she would hurt you. 

“If you’re certain that it won’t be a problem…” you said, and you watched the woman shake her head.

“Of course not. Besides, Fanny would love the extra cuddles,” the woman explained, giving her dog, Fanny, a few scratches behind her ears. 

You turned around, missing the sign the woman gave to the other people at the table. They got up, walking towards the door. The red headed woman stayed behind, telling the others she would be there soon. 

She walked over to the counter, giving Fanny a few pets before pulling out her wallet. 

“I’d like to pay for the whole table, please,” she told you as she grabbed her card. You nodded and typed in the amount on the device.

After paying, she thanked you and walked out of the cafe.

“I’m Yelena, by the way,” the blonde woman said as she waited for you to close everything up. “I’m y/n,” you told her, locking the register and walking out from behind the bar.

“This way,” she said as she led the way out of the cafe, waiting for you to lock the door before opening the door of her car. 

You were about to get in before Fanny jumped into the car before you, settling in the middle of the couch chair. Yelena drove a truck, so it was easy to fit three people on the chair. You got in after Fanny, sitting beside her and petting her head when she laid her head on your lap.

Yelena got into the drivers seat, closing the door and starting the car.

“Here, you must be thirsty after working for so long,” she said as she handed you a bottle of water. 

“Thank you,” you thanked her as you opened it, taking a few sips.

“Who was your sister?” you asked Yelena after a little while. She turned to you with a smile, rubbing Fanny’s fur.

“The red head, Natasha. She’s my sister. The big guy, with the long beard, that’s my dad, and the woman with dark brown hair is my mom,” Yelena explained, focusing back on the road. “The cafe you work at is close to our work space, so we come there a lot, but we’ve never been there together.”  

“What kind of work do you do?” you asked her curiously.

“We take care of business. Make sure people pay… taxes… that sort of stuff,” Yelena explained, although she weirdly paused before mentioning taxes. You nodded, focusing on the world outside.

After a few minutes of silence, you started to get a bit dizzy, grabbing onto the dashboard to steady yourself as black spots took over your vision. 

“Everything alright?” Yelena asked, concern lacing her voice.

“Just a little dizzy…” you explained, taking a few deep breaths in the hopes of clearing your vision.

“That happens sometimes after doing a lot during the day, especially for girls your age. You should drink a bit more water and take a few deep breaths. It’ll pass,” Yelena told you, and you nodded as you gulped the leftover water in the waterbottle down.

You sat back, taking a few deep breaths and looking out the window, suddenly noticing the road you were at didn’t look familiar. 

“This isn’t my street…?” you asked Yelena, who merely shrugged.

“There is construction that way, so I figured we’d avoid it,” she reasoned, turning on her turn signal and steering into another unfamiliar road. 

You were about to protest, but the spots in your vision took over nearly everything, and you suddenly felt to dizzy to talk. You tried to say something, but you couldn’t even remember what happened after as you lost consciousness completely. 

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

You groaned slightly when you woke up, the sun blinding your vision as you covered your eyes with your hands. You turned around in the bed, pulling the covers a little higher a closing you eyes again, fully prepared to go back to sleep.

Suddenly, you sat up in a fright, looking around the room and taking in you surroundings. You never got home lat night. 

You don’t remember anything past the points of being dizzy. 

You threw the covers away, standing up from the bed, ignoring the slight dizziness as you walked over to the window. As soon as you pulled the curtains open, all you could see was snow. What the actual fuck. It never snowed where you were from.

You ran towards the door, surprised when it opened immediately. 

You looked out into the hallway, making sure it was clear before you made your way downstairs. You could hear chatter coming from what you assumed was the living room, and so you tried to go around it, heading towards the front door, or atleast, what looked like the front door.

You almost thought you weren’t spotted, until you heard a voice coming from the living room.

“If you’re going outside, don’t forget your boots and jacket. Winters are very cold around here.” 

You stopped dead in your tracks, frozen in place as the voice spoke so casual. If she knew you were leaving, why didn’t she try to stop you? You hesitated a moment, unsure of what to do as you looked at the rack of shoes. Your shoes were there, together with a vast variety of boots.

“If you’re hungry, there is also some breakfast,” the voice spoke again, and you took a deep breath before deciding to follow it.

You walked into the living room, seeing all five people sitting on a few couches. 

The red headed woman, Natasha, was sitting at the edge of the couch with the brown haired woman beside her. Natasha was scrolling on her phone while the other woman was reading a book. 

After they noticed you arrived in the living room, the woman put her book away.

“Where am I?” you asked quietly, glancing over at Yelena who was watching something on the tv. You couldn’t understand the language, and you figured it must’ve been something slavic. 

“You’re home,” the woman smiled softly, getting up from the couch and reaching for your hand.

“We figured we’d let you sleep in, so I put some breakfast in the fridge for you,” she explained as she led you towards the kitchen, letting go of your hand and opening the fridge, pulling out a plate of waffles. 

You went to sit down at the barstool, leaning on the kitchen island, debating on what to say next. 

“Who are you…?” you asked hesitantly, afraid to upset her.

“My name is, Wanda, but you may call me mom, and Natasha is mama,” Wanda stated simply, squirting some whipped cream on the waffles before topping them off with some fresh fruit.

“... What…?”

“I understand that it may be a bit confusing, but I promise you you will be happy here. We will make sure you will never have to worry about anything another day in your life,” Wanda explained, smiling as she put the plate of food in front of you. 

“What about my parents?” you asked, and Wanda just smiled.

“You don’t have to worry about them hurting you ever again, I promise.” 

You nodded slightly, staring at the plate of waffles. 

“So you kidnapped me?” 

Wanda chuckled a bit, sitting down across from you and pouting you a glass of your favourite juice. “I guess you could call it that, although that is not our intention. We love you, and we’ll show that to you,” she explained, putting the glass of juice down in front of you. 

You hesitated before you felt your belly rumble in hunger, staring at the plate of waffles for only a second longer before you dug in, enjoying the amazing tasty treat. 

“Why me?” you asked after taking a breath, taking a sip from your juice and staring at Wanda. 

“You are special. You might not understand it, but you are special, and we love you. You are perfect,” Wanda explained, smiling as Natasha joined you in the kitchen. 

“Don’t worry about it too much, malysh. You will love it here, and you will have everything you could dream off,” she said, giving you a kiss on your forehead. She reached over to the cabinet, grabbing a glass and filling it with some juice as well. 

“If you want, I can take you outside later, or you could explore the house a little if that’s what you prefer,” Natasha suggested, and you nodded.

“Okay,” you simply said, taking another bite of your waffles.

You were confused beyond comprehension, yet for some reason, you felt safe. You knew you were safe, and for the first time in your life, you felt content. 

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @tia-thesimp @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @n0txn3vee @lorsstar1st

[dameronspector]

Willow (chapter 4)

Pairing: Bob Reynolds x Fem!ExAvenger!Reader

Chapter Summary: You manage to escape the vault and everyone is in awe of you, Bob does something drastic and you do something even more drastic to save him, which does not end well.

Warnings: Mentions of Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Death, Gunshot, Guns, Bullet wounds, Dead bodies of cops but ACAB so idc, Injuries, Fight scenes, Reader uses her powers, Canon-typical violence, that First Flight scene from the movie, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Cursing, Found Family, Reader is mentioned to be short, John Walker is bearable here, like an elder brother (love you wyatt), light soulmate AU vibes, Reader has magical abilities of the goddess Hecate (eg: necromancy, pyrokinesis, hypnokinesis, dark magic, etc. you can find the rest on rioridanwiki!), that’s all i think!

PS: this is a work of fiction. I don't own any of these characters and I have made some changes to fit the storyline better and because it's an AU. I have taken all the information from google and riordanwiki. Incase I have gotten anything wrong, please let me know!

You're not sure why, but there was a weird tug in your stomach ever since all of you separated. As if your gut was warning you, that something was going to go side ways. And apparently it was visible on your face because John kept glancing at you warily, as the two of you made your way out of the dark lobby and through the endless corridors.

Eventually, you got annoyed of his persistent staring.

"Just say it, Walker, and stop staring at me for gods' sake", you mumbled in irritation, keeping an eye out for any ambushes.

John pursed his lips, "You've got this, weird face on", his hands gestured towards his own face to emphasize it.

The two of you hid behind a secluded corner and waited for Yelena to turn the lights back on.

You narrowed your eyes at him, "Are you calling me ugly?"

John scoffed, "If I wanted to call you 'ugly', I'd just say that. No, I meant, you've got that 'oh no, I'm sensing something dangerous' kinda vibe going on right now."

You exhaled through your nose before peeking around the corner.

"You're right for once", you quipped and John made a face.

"You can do that?", he grumbled, busying himself with strapping the non-vibranium shield tightly around his forearm.

You hummed absently, eyes closing for a brief moment of meditation, preparing yourself for the fight.

John looked at you and chuckled, "You don't have to do all that. I'll protect you", he declared smugly.

You slowly opened your eyes and smirked, making him shift uncomfortably.

"You know Yelena sent me to protect you, right? And you know, my powers are the strongest at night, right?", your eyes glowing a bright purple as you said that. He had no idea that you had just charmed him, intimidating him with a mere eye contact.

John froze before clearing his throat, shifting away from you. You burst out laughing, quiet laughs shaking your shoulders as you leaned against the wall. John grumbled in response when suddenly, his back straightened up. You paused, hearing light footsteps make their way through the lobby. You nodded your head at John to signal Yelena.

"Turn on the lights, Yelena", he instructed her through the comms, body tensed as he pressed himself flat against the wall. You stood right next to him, your fingertips glowing lightly as the adrenaline rushed through your body.

You waited for a few more seconds. The lights didn't turn back on. John grew agitated as the footsteps came closer and closer.

"Yelena, turn the lights on", he murmured into the comms, his teeth gritted in irritation. You kept rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet, the anticipation and loss of a sense, sending your instincts into overdrive.

Yelena did not reply and the lights didn't turn back on. You caught the reflection of a laser streak and patted John's arm to bring his attention to it.

He cursed lowly and turned his comms off, telling you to do the same before gesturing with his hands to cover his six. You nodded in agreement, switching the comm off and letting the purple glow take over you, your hands covered in bright, sparkling tendrils. The dark was helping you immensely, as you could practically feel the power rushing through your blood, making you feel more energetic than normal.

John stepped out first, gunning down two soldiers at a time before holding his shield up and walking down the hallway. It was suspiciously empty, your footsteps echoing through it and your ears ringing with how quiet it was. As you passed that corridor and turned, the two of you were stopped by a series of thundering footsteps from behind.

"Surrender right now! Hands behind your heads!", a man barked from behind you and you froze, John turning around to point the gun at the soldier.

"Fuck, there's too many of 'em", John mumbled as he took in the squad of soldiers pointing their guns at you two, the lasers making small red dots dance on your bodies. John was getting ready to jump into a fight, when you stopped him.

"You go, I'll handle this", you whispered to him, keeping your eyes on the squad in front of you. He hesitated, looking at you in surprise.

"(Name), don't be stupid-"

"John, trust me this one time, please. I'll be fine", you reassured him.

He took one last look at you and the corridor full of soldiers donning thick, black combat suit, before running in the opposite direction. The squad attempted to run after him, but you held your hands out, eyes glowing and hands shooting bursts of magic that wrapped around the group.

"What the fuck-", one of them cursed, and the two soldiers in front fired at you, the bullets ricocheting off the barrier around them and lodging inside their bodies instead. They grunted, their blood spraying on the soldiers behind them before they fell dead by your feet.

The corridor was completely silent now, the men looking at you in fear and awe, the faint humming of your powers being the only thing heard.

You smirked, tilting your head to the side, "It's time for a little trip to the past."

They bristled, eyes blown wide with confusion and watched you murmur an incantation in Greek. A mist slowly engulfed them, spreading through the entire hallway and they looked at it in wonder. You casted an illusion of the Ultron war, placing the group right in the middle of a stampede, a crowd that was being chased down by the machines-out of place, out of time.

Sealing the mist with a forcefield, your eyes returned back to normal as they yelled out expletives and orders, firing at nothing as the bullets bounced off and hurt them instead. Inhaling deeply, you turned around and made your way back to John, conjuring an electric, purple ball of magic guide you to him.

-

"It's me! John!"

"Where were you?!"

"Where were you?!"

"The explosion fried the wires!"

"I told you! Too many variables! I knew it!"

"And then you didn't wait."

"I did wait!-"

"Guys... where's (Name)?", Bob nervously broke off the argument between Yelena and Walker, his hands fiddling with the gas mask as wild eyes fluttered around the darkened room, looking for you.

They stopped bickering, Yelena whipping around to tear a new one for Walker, when you came up from behind him.

"I'm here, don't worry", you reassured them, the three of them staring at you in shock because you looked like you took a walk in the garden. Completely normal, not breaking a sweat and hair still intact in that hairstyle of yours.

"What? You're done? They didn't follow you..?", John asked, glancing behind you to make sure you weren't followed. Yelena stared at you in curiosity, Bob in awe.

You shrugged, "They're not waking up anytime soon."

Yelena and John exchanged a surprised look.

"Okay...well. We will need to change into these suits and sneak out. Ghost lady will be there with a vehicle, hopefully", Yelena instructed as she began removing the suit and accessories of one of the dead soldiers.

"Uh...You guys continue, I'll join you outside. Keep an eye on Ava", you announced and turned around to leave, when John stopped you.

"Whoa, whoa! Just because you have powers, doesn't mean you can just walk out like that!", John chided you.

You looked at him blankly before holding your hand palm up, a mist emerging from your palm before letting it engulf you fully.

Bob and Yelena's eyes widened.

"Holy shit."

"Whoa!"

John stared at you dumbfoundedly, his mouth dropped open.

You had created an illusion of one of the dead soldiers, Your face and body morphed to look like his. You raised an eyebrow at John who scoffed but didn't say anything else.

Bob was ready to worship you, because that was the coolest fucking thing he's ever seen.

"That was- you're so amazing...", he said quietly, his eyes sparkling with wonder. Yelena looked at him in suspicion, adoration for you oozing off of him and she smirked.

You simply looked at Bob and smiled. Bob felt weird that it was that dead soldier's face looking back at him but it was still you, so he smiled back in a dopey manner.

Giving the three of them a two fingered salute, you walked out of the building confidently.

-

As soon as you stepped out, a soldier flanked you down and asked you about the situation inside. You told him that you did the best you could, that half of the team was dead and he just patted your shoulder before letting you go, too distracted to pay attention to you.

Taking that as your opportunity, you slipped past the crowded area and looked for Ava where the vehicles were parked.

You managed to find an empty truck and turned on the comms, informing John about the same and stood in front of the truck to help them notice you.

They managed to dodge any questions and bee lined to the truck. They made Bob sit in the back, John already walking around the front to sit at the wheel.

“Get in”, Yelena urged Bob and pushed him inside, you helping her keep the door open while keeping an eye on the field.

“You gonna be okay back there?”, John asked from the driver’s seat.

“Yeah”, Bob reassured him, settling in and already fiddling with the huge mask covering his face.

“Yeah?”, Yelena asked again, Bob nodding his head positively before she turned to you.

“Why are you standing here? Get in-”

“You’ll get stopped while leaving. I’ll be there to clear you, I’m one of them, remember?”, you informed her, eyes flicking towards Bob to check on him. He was staring at you in worry.

“Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?”, he asked hesitantly.

“I don’t want you to unnecessarily risk it, (Name)”, Yelena added.

You paused before patting her shoulder.

“I’ll be fine. Go sit”, she looked at you in worry for a last time, before making her way over to the front.

You were about to shut the door when Bob stopped you, a hand splayed on the door.

“Please, don’t do something heroic. Even though you look like-like a goddess when you do it”, he blurted out, his eyebrows furrowed in worry.

Your heart was beating faster, your face heating up at his comment.

Giving him a tiny smile, you squeezed his arm gently and closed the doors, him watching you go longingly.

-

“Identify yourself-”

“I cleared them. They’re alright to go.”

Everyone turned to look at you in doubt, the main officer questioning you now.

“Captain Johnson, we still need an identification, that’s standard procedure.”

“Yes, I’m aware, officer. But they have a medical emergency so I thought-”

The man stopped you from talking. You held the rifle tighter in your hands, John watching the whole thing wearily.

“No. This is a serious situation, you should’ve taken permission before allowing them to leave like that”, he turned his attention back towards John, “Identify yourself, immediately. Military order”, he boomed and you cursed inwardly.

Just as you were going to use your charmspeak on him, John decided to be a loser.

“No.”

Your eyes widened behind your mask, hands gripping the rifle even more tightly to control yourself from blasting off John.

The officer straightened up, “Remove your helmet and identify yourself now, soldiers”, his voice stern.

You were signing John to shut up and let you conceal them when he said something stupid again.

“You're messing with the wrong-”

“Hey!”, a voice echoed from the direction of the vault and all of you snapped your heads at that.

Then, a series of gunshots fired in the air.

You felt a tug in your chest again, making your way towards the back of the truck, you saw that the doors were left open and then-

A series of gunshots went off again. You whipped your head around to see Bob, surrendering himself, armed with a rifle and firing loose shots in open air. He had a delirious look on his face.

Bright lights zeroed in on him and a squad of soldiers held him at gun point, forming a semi circle around him.

Your eyes widened, heart thundering against your chest.

“No..no no no”, you kept chanting as you observed his panicked state and the soldiers bracing for attack.

“Where’s (Name)?”, John asked, looking around for you.

Yelena looked outside the window somberly and sighed, “There.”

The three of them watched you run across the field, getting closer to Bob, when the soldiers fired and the bullets hit Bob’s torso directly.

There was this painful ache in your chest. The way he had just…given up? The desperate cry of help swimming in his eyes was impossible to ignore. But the way he had just...thrown himself into the lion's den, just like that. Like he didn't matter. The thought left an odd and bitter taste in your mouth, your body alight with this sudden urge to protect him fiercely.

But why did your heart hurt so much as you watched the soldiers ruthlessly gun him down?

“NO!”, you yelled as you broke the illusion, letting the bursts of your power carry you towards him and blocking the rain of bullets with a pulsing force field, your body tense with anger. The entire area was lit up in purple, the air buzzing with magic, a strange feeling of fear and doom overtaking everyone around you. Your hair had come undone from the neat hairstyle, really binding together the rage you felt as your eyes glowed with an angry flame.

“Holy shit”, Ava exclaimed, John and Yelena watching you in shock, Mel walking backwards in fear and Valentina barking orders to ceasefire, her wide eyes trained on you and Bob.

In your daze, you didn’t notice Bob hitting the ground behind you. The firing suddenly stopped, the area shrouded in silence and that’s when you noticed something move behind you. You turned around and broke your force field in shock.

You almost expected to be greeted by the gruesome sight of Bob’s bloody and motionless body. But instead, he was standing up, completely unhurt, except for his thin shirt torn in holes from the bullets, the lower half of his shirt completely open.

You gasped, turning around to watch him and the sliver of abs poking through his torn shirt. First of all, how the fuck did he survive those bullets.

Second of all, he was fucking ripped.

Who was he? What was he?

You felt that magnetic force again, the same one that you had felt in the vault, as if the air was buzzing with extraordinary power and force-a power that was indescribable, indestructible and dangerous.

He looked down at his torso, and when he looked back up at the soldiers, brown curls framing his forehead and eyes, which were turning into that golden eclipse again, his face shaking with how hard he was clenching his jaw, adam’s apple bobbing harshly in his throat.

You furrowed your brows, eyes raking through his body for any other signs and when your gaze fell on his feet—they were off the ground.

He was fucking levitating.

"What..", you whispered in disbelief, watching his body lift off the ground slowly.

"Bob-", you tried reaching for him. But he shot up in the sky. Like a kryptonite, leaving behind a cloud of dust.

You craned your neck up, stretching it impossibly in hopes of catching a glimpse of him. He was not ordinary. He was something special. A god himself. You were so immersed in that moment, that you didn't notice a soldier lift up his rifle and take a shot at your shoulder.

You howled in pain, grabbing your shoulder tightly and dropping down to your knees, the fabric of your suit catching on the rocky ground.

John was gripping the steering impossibly tight, his face awash with horror and sorrow.

"Fuck-we can't leave her behind!", Yelena cried out.

"John-", Ava tried but he interrupted her.

"We can't, guys. We need to get out of here, and get help for the both of them, before Valentina does something crazier. Let's go", he managed to choke out, his face glum. You were a good kid. You had a lot of heart and courage, and he respected you for that. He just hoped they could save you and Bob.

He drove off the truck before anybody else spotted them, Ava and Yelena looking up at Bob's figure shooting across the sky like a meteor.

Meanwhile you were lying flat on your back, your hand covered in your own blood, whimpers leaving your mouth as the pain became too much for you to even concentrated on retaliating. You felt some of the blood trickle down, making your suit stick to the wound and some of it transferring to your hair, the smell of iron hitting your nose sharply, before it pooled below you.

You helplessly stared at the night sky, noticing a shooting star zoom across it-Bob. Your chest collapsing in on itself from the agony from the pain and worry for him. As your half conscious mind registered two hands lift you up, you barely took notice of the loud crash, before promptly passing out from the blood loss.

-

“No, no, no, no! Just when I'm getting my team together. Mister soldier, you are making a serious mistake”, Alexei protested, his voice booming in the empty, run down store.

Bucky had saved them from the defence squad and had blown up Alexei’s beloved limousine, at the same time. And now he had tied all of them up, keeping them ‘hostage’ in a run down store in the middle of nowhere.

They kept yapping about this team, and the vault but Bucky had only one thing to worry about: you. He did go back to your apartment. And he did see your note. Then he tracked you, and found out that you were there in the vault.

Originally, he had panicked. Sam had trusted him to look after you. How was he going to face him? How could he let that happen to you? He had come to care for you like you were his own. And now? Now you were nowhere to be seen. You weren’t at home, you aren’t here with these people, what was he going to do? These thoughts plagued him, and these losers weren’t helping, at all.

“Save it for the committee. I don’t care. Where’s (Name)? I know she was with you all”, he gritted out, hands on his hips and sharp gaze burning a hole through each of them.

“(Name) was taken away by Valentina. They…”

“They what?”, Bucky asked urgently.

Yelena exchanged a look with Ava, John looked away from Bucky’s intense stare.

“They shot at her. Her shoulder was injured, I think”, Yelena added guiltily.

“Fuck”, Bucky cursed lowly, his eyes shut tightly.

“What committee?”, Alexei asked in confusion.

“Dad!”, Yelena groaned.

Bucky took a few seconds to gather his thoughts before continuing, “All of you are evidence in the impeachment against Valentina.”

All of them shifted in discomfort before Ava spoke up, “We don't even work for Valentina anymore. She tried to kill us.”

Bucky clenched his jaw.

“We were ordered to destroy all of her secrets. Actually sent us to kill each other in this vault”, John added.

“But then we met Bob. There was a man in the vault. She's done something to him. It's called Project Sentry”, Yelena continued.

“He shot up into the sky, he exploded and then crashed into this mountain, and then he died, didn't die”, Ava shrugged.

“Yeah, I got it. He's very, very scary”, Bucky drawled, frankly uninterested in this story because his mind was swirling with horrible thoughts and worry for you.

“Good, Congressman Barnes”, John quipped arrogantly,

Bucky walked closer to the group, his voice scratchy as he spoke in a low tone, “It's okay, Walker. What's that supposed to mean?”

“It means you know me, Bucky. So cut the crap and listen to what we're trying to tell you”, John hits back.

“Yeah, I know you, John. And you made your choices. I know it's been tough since Olivia left you and took your son, but anyway, this one’s on you”, Bucky retorted.

Yelena looked at John in shock. Why did he brag about his picket white fence life back in the vault?

John looked at her in resignation, shrugging in a way that said ‘it is what it is.’

“And I don’t care about Valentina…or this…guy…I just need to know if (Name) is safe. So, as along as she is an important aspect in this situation, I’m in. Otherwise, I’m out of here”, Bucky conceded, his tone firm.

“Bucky, there won't be any committee, Okay? There might not even be a government. She has some big—”

“Yeah, I got it. His name is Bob or Sentry and he flies. Right? And all of you are heroes going after Val, ready to save the day. You're chasing her together”, Bucky waved Yelena off, tired of the same old explanation that they were giving, his irritating seeping into his words.

“We were just trying to get home. Alive, actually”, Ava interrupted.

Bucky made a face of disdain, “That's even more pathetic. Alright, the plane lands in six minutes.”

Suddenly, his phone rang. He immediately picked it up as he saw Mel was calling him.

“Yeah?”

“Bucky, I need your help”, came her hushed voice from the other side.

Bucky straightened up, keeping an eye on the group, “What is it?”

“Val has gone off the rails. I'm talking about Project Sentry. It's not just a failure; it's dangerous.”

“Project Sentry?”, Bucky asked, the group looking at him with wide eyes.

“And this guy is a disaster waiting to happen.”

“What guy?”, Bucky asked distractedly, his mind still catching up with this mess. Blame his old age or whatever.

“Bob.”

“Bob!”, the four people in front of him yelled in unison, surprised at Bucky’s nonchalance.

Bucky glared at them, his nostrils flaring.

He turned his attention back to the call, deciding to ask Mel about you, “Mel, where’s (Name)?”

She hesitated before giving up and telling him the truth, “In the hospital wing. Don’t worry, she’s stable now, but she lost a lot of blood, so she’s unconscious. They shot her in the shoulder and the bullet left her body so, no infection or anything.”

Bucky heaved out a sigh, his eyes closing in temporary relief.

“We're at the old Avengers compound. The press is coming tomorrow morning. Someone has to do something—Shit, okay, I gotta go. But come now, please. Bring whoever you can, everyone you can”, Mel ended the call in a rush.

Bucky glanced around the room in contemplation. A hand holding his phone and the other hand rested on his hips, his jaw rolling in tension. The group looked at him and each other in anticipation, the room falling into an awkward silence.

“Sentry”, Bucky deadpanned.

“It's Bob, Bucky!”, the four of them groaned.

Bucky shook his head and made his way over to where they were all sitting, bending down to release Ava first.

“I'm letting you go. You're coming with me.”

Ava looked at him in surprise, “Why?”

“For glory!”, Alexei boomed.

“Well. you know Valentina. She has this thing out there. People are going to get hurt. And I need to stop her. And you're going to help me”, he announced as he made his way around the group, releasing Alexei, Yelena and John as well.

Yelena looked at him incredulously, “Wait, us?”

“Why? You got somewhere to be?”, Bucky sassed.

She shook her head in disagreement, “Bucky, you got the wrong people..”

He sighed, voice taking a softer yet stern tone, “Look, I've been where you are. You can run, but it won't get you far. Sooner or later, it'll catch up to you. And when it does, it'll be too late. So you can do something about it. Do it now or live with it forever. Stop her and save Bob, hm?”

He knew what they were struggling with. He’s been there, done that. Suddenly, he felt like an older brother to all these people. The words of advice pouring out of him sincerely, his heart reaching out to them.

He laughed internally as he thought about how you’d tease him if you were here. He missed you. He hoped you were okay.

All of them exchange hesitant looks with each other, Alexei looking at them with hopeful eyes before Yelena nodded in agreement.

Alexei lit up like a Christmas tree.

“YEAH! Yes! YES!”, he bellowed.

The rest of them covered their ears in response.

Bucky groaned, how and why was he supposed to babysit these grown adults, was beyond him.

He was simply going to rescue you from Valentina’s clutches and dip, ASAP.

Chapter 5

-

AN: can u tell I’m having too much fun w reader’s powers and the Soulmates thing heheheeee 🤭 We will get more Bob and R content from next chapter, i promise!

Please like and reblog, and share your thoughts <3

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sorry if I forgot someone/you didn’t get tagged! reply if you wanna be removed from the taglist!

[marveldcfandom]

Y/N introduces a new team member to the New Avengers.

Y/N: Guys, let’s me introduce Emil Blonsky aka The Abomination!

Bucky: Y/N, this is a bad idea.

Alexei: I think it’s good thing because we have our own Hulk!

Yelena: What can you do other than becoming big & strong?

Emil: I write haiku!

Yelena: He’s in.

GIFs from @timrothgifs, @marvelgifs & @dailybuckybarnes

For @fandomnerd9602

[highinhardtown]

Made a mood board for my Dark Carnival Thunderbolts* (Reader Insert) AU that lives only in my head and that I mentioned in this post!

My Ideas are mostly:

- Bob and Yelena are the main Preformers and Selling point for the Circus, I'm thinking they're acrobatics with a jester theme

-Alexie would most likely be the "Ring Leader" just because of his very showy presence, maybe he used to perform doing daring acts, sword swallowing, fire breathing, etc, but has since mostly retired and has just taken on leading his misfit family.

If anyone wants to play toys and talk about this with me I'd love more ideas and input! If I were to actually write anything for this it'd be a Second Person POV because I'd want it to be Reader Insert, Bob as the love interest because I'm obsessed, Queer Platonic Boblena and Readerlena would be present.

[imonabitchparade]

🍖 “Bear Mode: Activated” — Alexei Shostakov x Reader Insert (Platonic)

Masterlist

Warnings: None! I failed to add Bob x reader because I didn't know where to fit him in.

Summary: You’ve taken your meme shirt antics to the next level with Alexei. He has an unexpected request.

The Watchtower’s kitchen was alive with the smell of something cooking—probably John, because where else did that guy feel at home other than the gym?

The team sat in the adjacent common area again. This time, everyone was warily eyeing the hall, wondering which shirt you’d surprise them with next.

You casually walked in, wearing a shirt that screamed “Alexei.”

The fabric was sturdy red cotton, perfect for battle or binge-watching.

But the design?

A ridiculously oversized photo of Alexei mid-roar during a training exercise, mouth wide open like a bear about to devour a picnic basket.

You’d caught the moment just right, and of course, you’d added ferocious cartoon bear ears on his head, along with some claw marks slashing across the image for dramatic effect.

Above the photo, in bold, all-caps font dripping like fresh honey, it read:

“BEAR MODE: ACTIVATED”

Below, in a more playful script, the tagline:

“Caution: Will maul for snacks.”

You walked in wearing the shirt like it was the crown jewel of your collection.

Alexei’s eyes locked on it immediately.

For a second, you thought he might try to wrestle you into submission.

Then, instead, his booming laughter filled the room.

“Ha! That is amazing!” he said, coming over to grab your shoulder. “You have captured the spirit of Shostakov perfectly.”

Yelena, barely hiding her grin and raising a glass of unidentifiable liquid, added, “Looks like the bear has been tamed by fashion.”

Alexei threw his head back and laughed louder.

“I demand one in every color, and a mug! You must make me a mug with this design.” He gave you a mock serious look, “This will be my official training uniform.”

You nodded with a grin. “A mug is definitely happening.”

Bucky muttered, “Why do I feel like I’m next?”

Alexei clapped Bucky on the back. “Do not fear, friend! You will have your day in the sun… or the mug.”

Ava chimed in, “I’m just waiting for my throne to come with the pizza slices.”

You smiled at your team.

These shirts weren’t just jokes — they were a strange kind of bond, a way to remind everyone that even your chaotic group of misfits could have fun.

Alexei flexed, looking ridiculously proud.

“Bear mode… always activated.”

[radiantdanvers]

Pov: You're the Red widow of the MCU and a part of Natasha's family

Masterlist

[controld3vil]

letting them pick your weapon

pairings: yelena belova, bucky barnes, john walker, robert reynolds/sentry, ava starr/ghost, taskmaster (comic ver.), alexei shostakov/red guardian x gn!thunderbolts!reader

synopsis: The fact that you value their opinion catches them off guard.

notes -> working on requests rn, but inbox’s still open !! I WANNA WRITE MORE tags/cw: inaccurate characterization/have not seen the film, minor scene mention (it’s in the trailer!), descriptions of weapons (flash bombs, bucky’s grappling hook, retractable shield, emergency teleporter, static boots, weapon gauntlet, combat enhanced gloves) headcanons can be read as platonic/romantic

YELENA BELOVA

-> believed you were joking at first. her? you have lost your mind if you thought she would be a good idea to offer advice to. but because it’s you, she’s willing to consider your preferences and style of combat. most of the team already use guns, tactical knives for hand-to-hand combat. you’re a great candidate for any challenge, so she’s not going to pick something easy. if you wanted easy, you would’ve asked someone else. 

“Well, I’m flattered you think so highly of me,” The former Black Widow turned to you with a delighted grin slowly spreading across her face. It’s obvious how smitten she is after your suggestion regarding the weaponry. Valentina had experts for those kinds of things: weapons, gear, and training. Yet, you sought her out for her opinion. Yelena rarely swoons at compliments, but you make her feel lighter on her feet on rare occasions. 

“Is it so wrong not to?” you jest with a smirk. You continued down the hallway of the Tower. The armory is built with a fingerprint pad at the end of the hall. Once you are allowed access, the bulletproof doors open. 

“You’ve got quite the selection,” Yelena notes, her eyes scanning the close-combat display. A few new additions catch her eye – one’s she’s certain weren’t there last week. It’s obvious you favor hand-to-hand combat over long-range, but she has no intentions of making this easy for you. Yelena knows you enjoy pushing boundaries, not just with weapons, but with strategy, roles, anything that keeps you one step ahead. “You’re still positive you want my advice?”

“Of course!” You beam, scanning down the aisles of the collection Valentina has managed to grab for the team. This was something you wished you had, and not just a temporary use. Still, you’re unfazed by Yelena’s pondering. “You’re one of the best I know of.” 

“That you know of,” She corrects, placing her hands on her hips. She’s thinking carefully now. What to give you. Would you like what she suggests? It shouldn’t matter as much, but Yelena now considers your combat style. The way you navigate around the battlefield, how you look both ways before crossing an alleyway. You’re very meticulous when it comes to closed operations, which is why she works so well with you. 

You see her grab something from a barrel, close to the heavy weapons. She holds it in her hand, feeling the weight of it. Her palms bounce the spherical object up and down as if it were a baseball and not something to be messed with. Yelena seems satisfied, as you can tell by the glint in her eyes when she turns to you. Her grin is devilish as she picks up a few more and lays them out in her hands. 

“Flash bombs, huh…” Your expression is neutral, studying them like an ancient artifact. You rarely use them, as it really depends on the mission. If it were a search and rescue, you wouldn’t think to use flash bombs. But then again, it’s slowly that you realize how typical your preferences are. “Never used them.”

“Exactly the point,” the ex-assassin beams with a lighthearted jab. “We rarely use flash bombs– makes it more fun when we do.” 

“So you’re suggesting them because you think they’re fun?” You crossed your arms, a smug smile tugging at your lips. You knew better than to expect Yelena to take your request seriously. She was trying to make peace with a past she rarely spoke of. But still, she had a way of making her life a hell of a lot more interesting.

“Flash bombs are like party tricks–best when no one sees them coming,” she said with a pout, holding one up like it was a priceless treasure.

BUCKY BARNES

-> question your mental fortitude. are you serious? but then he listens to you spouting about his days as the Winter Soldier. he doesn’t think highly of those days but the way you boast about his expertise is almost bizarre. do you admire him? that makes him feel oddly appreciated and conflicted. however because of your persistent pleas (you said please once!), he complies and leads you to his room. 

“Where did you think we were going?” The team leader grumbled, eyes fixed ahead as he passed Walker’s door without so much as a glance. There was a hint of playfulness in his voice–subtle, nearly invisible–but you caught it. You always did with him. 

He didn’t look at you. He rarely did when he was in one of these moods. Still, you followed close behind, practically on his heels like a loyal, overly eager puppy. And you couldn’t have looked more pleased. Because the truth was, you never expected to be allowed into Bucky’s room. 

“I mean no one’s allowed in your room,” you said, your voice light, stating the obvious. 

That made him stop. 

Bucky turned to look at you, his expression unreadable. To anyone else, he probably seemed annoyed–grim even. But you had spent enough time watching the subtle gestures to notice the truth. The slight droop in his eyes. That flicker of something softer. 

“Well– you’re the leader,” you added quickly, voice quieter now, “and out of respect, I just… never thought I’d be invited.” Now he looks at you even more deeply. Great, now he looks like a kicked puppy. 

“I mean, I appreciate the kind assumption, but really–” he pauses, eyes locking onto yours with surprising intensity. “You’re always welcome. If you need anything, that is.” 

You nod, taking in the quiet sincerity in his words. For a moment, it felt like you two had cleared the air. The weight of the conversation felt lighter, more comfortable. 

When he opens the door, he steps aside to let you enter first. 

Bucky’s room is nothing out of the ordinary. It was plain and expected, maybe, but not without hints of the man who lives there. A few photos hang crookedly on the wall. Clothes are scattered on the floor, like they were left there in a hurry or maybe forgotten. He doesn’t spend much time here, but it’s undeniably his space.  

“Sorry for the mess.” He passes by you and heads to his closet. You watch as he grabs a case, pulling it down with the kind of care that says it’s something important. You have no idea what’s inside, but you can guess. What screams Bucky Barnes? Probably a custom-modified handgun. Maybe a combat knife with a story behind it.

“Here it is,” he says, setting the case down on the bed. You stare at it, curiosity buzzing as he unlatches the safety lock. His gaze flicks to yours for a split second before he opens it. And when you finally see what’s inside, you can’t help it. 

You laugh.

Bucky turns to you, almost abruptly. “What’s so funny?”

Your eyes cross his. “Is this the grappling hook you used to destroy that military vehicle when you were chasing us?” Recognition flickers in his face. The realization hits him–it is the same one. And for a moment, his expression is as unforgettable as the day you first saw him, tearing across the empty drylands on that motorcycle like something out of a war film.

“Oh… right,” Bucky says, rubbing the back of his neck, guilt creeping into his voice. “Sorry. I didn’t exactly plan that part out.”

“It’s alright…” You said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. The light streaming through the window catches the gleam of his metal arm, making it shine with an almost haunting beauty. “We're past that now.”

His eyes held a longing, a deep, mysterious intensity that you couldn’t quite figure out. He glances back at the grappling hook, it’s been since the beginning of your journey together as a team. He hasn’t used it since then, storing it as a keepsake, but now he’s looking at you.

“It’s yours now."

JOHN WALKER

-> gives you a skeptical look. you know yourself best, why would you go out of your way to ask him? doesn’t turn down the suggestion, but will constantly ask you why. He's been in the military, served two tours in Afghanistan. All he’s ever good for is punching things and shooting. And now, Valentina has given him a mediocre shield in place of Captain America’s. It’s safe to say he doesn’t choose his weapons, he earns them.

“I thought Yelena would be the one to ask, not you.” Walker doesn't seem just mildly annoyed; no, he’s genuinely in disbelief. No one’s ever asked him for a weapon before, and while his options were somewhat limited, he’s beginning to think that with the super serum coursing through him means he’s capable of more than he used to be. But his go-tos have always been the same: his shield and gun.

“You’re a strong guy,” you shrug casually, stripping off the protective gear you’d brought along. The two of you had just finished an operation, and the exhaustion was settling in, yet you couldn’t ignore the curiosity that spurred your suggestion. “I trust your instincts.”

Walker just stares at you, the look on his face speaking volumes. Seriously? He’s caught off guard. After everything that’s happened, now you’re asking him? But you can see he’s weighing your words, even if it’s only for a moment.

“You should trust your intuition,” he says, his tone softening just a little, though the faint skepticism still lingers. “Choose whatever you’re comfortable with.” 

“Comfortable?” You raise an eyebrow, pretending to think it over. “Well, if comfortable means picking a weapon that might get me killed, then… sure, I’m all in.” You smile, as if this were no big deal, even though deep down, the weight of your decision isn’t lost on you. “I trust you enough to make it interesting.” 

The former soldier exhales, clearly irritated, though mostly with himself. You weren’t going to give up, and he knew it. If he let this go now, you’d just come back tomorrow with the same question. You were rarely this persistent, but when you were, there’s no way of convincing you out of it. He could either make a decision now or risk you asking him again later. 

“Fine,” he muttered, scanning the armory. 

As you busied yourself, putting away gear and organizing supplies, Walker moved around the racks, his eyes flickering over the options. But the more he looked, the more he found himself caught in a mental loop. 

The rifle? Too heavy. That pistol? Not enough range for someone with your skills. That polearm? Too awkward for you to wield efficiently.

Finding a weapon that matched your needs, something that fit your style, was proving to be harder than he anticipated. He muttered under his breath, his frustration slowly building. Then he stole a glance at you, assessing. His eyes narrowed, running through the possibilities. He paused. The mission… in that moment. He remembered how you struggled to dodge the bullets while also taking down some thugs. His gaze lingered for a moment longer before he sighed and reached for something on a high shelf. 

Before he makes it down, you’re already by his side. 

“Whatcha got there?” You look eager, excited by the fact that Walker was this tolerant of your persistent pestering, that he’s willing to go through with his promise. 

“A retractable shield.” He removed the cover, and there it was. The shield was smaller compared to Walker’s, but confident in size to contract in and out like a gadget. It had a charred black matte finish, with dark silver lining across the edges. It had an adjustable cuff. It resembled similarly to a Wakandan shield, which Bucky saw during his time there. It was beautiful. “It was a prototype Valentina had ordered for me, but I never used it. I got this one already,” he gestured to his shield, clasped behind his back. 

“If you like, you can keep this one.” 

“Wait—really?!” 

“I mean— I don’t use it, so it’s all yours,” he says delicately, placing it into your hands. “I can teach you a few tricks, too, if you like.”

ROBERT REYNOLDS/SENTRY

-> extra extra nervous. you asked the guy who doesn’t need weapons or any kind of gadget to fight. if any of the members were in the room, they would be looking at you like you were crazy. bob’s first answer is no, but after seeing you pout at his refusal, he’s quick to please you. but then again, he has no idea what he’s doing. 

“Okay! Knives, guns—uh, what are you looking for?” You appreciate the effort of his trying to act like he knows what he’s doing. But he’s trying desperately to meet your expectations. Bob looks nervous, like a lamb to the slaughter in the weapons room, jumping from cabinet to cabinet, looking at all of the variety. 

“Just something new to try out,” You grin, letting his nervous energy follow him around. You stand by the doorway and watch as Bob tries to analyze each piece of equipment. 

“Uhm—are you looking for something practical or—“ 

“Bob,” that startles him, making him freeze momentarily before meekly turning to face you. He was expecting you in mad rage, yet you weren’t. You just had a cute, goofy smile on your face. “Pick something with your heart. I know whatever you choose will be fine.” 

It’ll be fine. He thinks to himself, before nodding, allowing his nerves to slowly subside. Bob takes a deep breath, and in slow strides, he reaches out to something. 

When he turns, your gaze follows, all innocent and cute. 

“Ahh, an emergency teleporter!” You’re in awe because it was something you didn’t think Bob would pick as his first choice. There were plenty of gadgets you thought of— force fields, bulletproof vests, iron-plated brass knuckles. 

“Thought it might come in handy,” he nervously laughs, fiddling with the device, not knowing what to do with his hands. “Uhm— you know, in case you have to go on missions with me— and I don’t know— if something were to happen—“ 

You could practically see his thoughts unraveling from where you stood, Bob always rambled when he was anxious. But the fact that he was worrying about your safety left a warm, fluttery feeling in your chest. 

“Hey– I get it,” you say gently, taking the teleporter from his hand. Only then does he realize he’d been speaking out loud, not just thinking it. He freezes, suddenly stiff and wide-eyed, like a deer caught in headlights. Embarrassed and tense. You offer a reassuring smile, one that says you don’t mind if anything, you appreciate it.

“It’s smart to have a backup plan,” you add. “And hey, maybe once this mission’s over, we’ll use it to teleport straight to that pizza place.”

AVA STARR/GHOST

-> pokes fun at you. jokes about all the possibilities of how you’ll slip up with whatever item she picks. obviously you don’t take it to heart, but ava’s light-hearted nature is a breath of fresh air— after so many grueling missions, her jokes are something that keeps you motivated for the next. need advice on using the element of surprise? she’s your gal! 

“I mean, come on–sneaking in with suppressed pistols but still blowing the whole operation?” Ava giggles, clearly enjoying herself while you look away, pretending to be interested in the horizon. 

“It was one of my first missions, okay?” you snap, pouting as a hot mix of embarrassment and irritation bubbles up inside you.

“Yeah, yeah—amateur,” she teases, ducking her head and biting back another laugh. 

“Oh, like you didn’t have any screw-ups when you started?”

“Don’t even get me started.” 

You raise a brow. “Well? I’m listening.” 

“I’m not telling you,” Ava says with a teasing hum as she strolls toward the armory, already scanning the gear selection menu. You trail after her, fuming. 

“I just told you my most embarrassing story, and you won’t even share yours? That’s not fair!” Steam practically pours from your ears. You’d laid bare your humiliating failure, and Ava–cool, composed Ava, refuses to give even a scrap in return. 

But instead of responding, she flashes a sly smile. “Because I got you something better.” She stops in front of a reinforced gear locker, a sleek metal container stacked with tactical essentials: vests, gloves, helmets. Everything you’d expect. But apparently, Ava has something different in mind. You pause, watching as she places her hand on the scanner. With a soft click and mechanical hiss, a hidden shelf slides out. 

It gleams. Brand new. Sleek like fresh sneakers out of the box. Ava hums before she accesses the armory, heading to the gear selection. 

“For when you’re trying not to sound like a herd of elephants,” she smirks, nodding to a pair of matte-black static boots. She leans casually against the frame, one eyebrow raised in silent amusement.

You blink at her, deadpan.

“Seriously?” 

“I mean, I can hear you walk from your bedroom to the kitchen–from my room,” Ava says, casually shrugging like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

You blink. That’s new information.

“Wait… I’m just a loud walker?” She gives you a pointed look, and suddenly it all clicks. “That explains why Walker’s always giving me weird looks,” you mutter, half to yourself. “Guess my feet have a mind of their own.”

Ava snorts. “No, love–you just have really bad shoes.”

TONY MASTERS/TASKMASTER

-> looks your way in deep silence. for how long you’ve known each other, you’re starting to believe tony chooses not to talk. he expresses much more with his actions, such as offering you extra bullets, or medical tape if things go south. tony is an experienced man with many talents, he’s able to copy and replicate his opponent’s moves. he’s done the same with teammates, with you when training, allowing you to point out the mistakes you hadn’t seen there before. sometimes you think he knows you better than yourself. 

“A weaponized gauntlet, huh?” you say, not even pretending to be surprised when Tony hands it to you, seemingly out of thin air. No trip to the armory, no formal request. Apparently, Tony knew you were going to ask him about this and waited for you to ask. 

You study the gauntlet closely, fingers tracing its sleek design. Every button, switch, and panel feels deliberate. Precise. You press one. Click! A retractable blade slides out with satisfying ease. Another press–a grappling line. Then a short-range stun charge. Then a blinding flash ejector. You can’t help it. A grin creeps across your face.

This was so him. 

Tony embodied versatility in his work. He didn’t rely on brute force–he struck with speed, precision, and timing. This gauntlet? This gauntlet was just like him: tactical, efficient, and sharp.

“Thank you,” you say softly, still a bit in awe as you reset the device to its default mode. Your eyes are locked on the gauntlet, taking in every detail. But Tony’s? His eyes haven’t let you once. 

If the circumstances were different, you might’ve mistaken this moment for something romantic.

“It’s pretty neat, has everything I need,” you say, trying to fill the silence with something, anything. You don’t mind the quiet, not really, but sometimes the stillness between you feels too heavy not to break. Tony doesn’t reply. Not verbally, at least. But you can tell his focus has shifted, drawn in closer. He’s leaning slightly toward you now, just enough for you to notice the space closing. 

You feel compelled to try the gauntlet on. As you unfasten the straps and slide it onto your wrist, it clamps down, not tightly, threatening. More like a perfectly fitted bracelet. Secure and purposeful. There’s a subtle hum as the device calibrates, adjusting to the shape of your hand. The pressure eases, and it begins to feel more like a part of you than an accessory. Almost like a second skin. 

Tiny scanners flicker along your fingertips, mapping them precisely–each digit now linked to a specific function, a silent promise of the power you had. You lift your pointer finger, and almost instantly, a blade slides out with fluid precision. 

“This feels like straight-up nanotech…” You murmur, raising your wrist toward the ceiling light, eyes wide with wonder. You probably look like a kid on Christmas morning. If a civilian saw you now, they might assume you’d completely lost it. 

“Where did you even get this?” you ask, unable to hide your curiosity. Tony tilts his head, deliberate and unreadable. You already know he won’t answer, but that never stopped you from asking him pointless questions anyway. It’s become a quiet repetition between you. 

You lower your arm, bring the gauntlet down to chest level–just enough to create a sort of invisible line between you and him. A barrier, but a playful one. 

“If you ever need it,” you say, mimicking his earlier head tilt with a smile, “just ask.”

ALEXEI SHOSTAKOV/RED GUARDIAN

-> very excited. so excited you asked him! alexei is really a lovable guy— even though he often doesn’t use any weapons or gadgets, he thinks of his teammates whenever he goes out window shopping. he sees a new brand Glock 19 by the window? yelena would love it! an energy stabilizer on the dark web? bob’s gonna flip! but you? good old you get special treatment because he’ll personally get you whatever you want. 

“When I heard you needed a new weapon, I was so happy!” Alexei beams as the two of you make your way into the living room. His accent thickens with excitement as he waves a hand. “Not in a bad way, of course, but it’s good, da? Trying something new!” 

“You get me, Alexei,” you say, arms crossing instinctively. Apparently, you weren’t the only one picking up on your growing restlessness. Same weapons, same tactics, and same rhythm, it all started to feel stale. You figured switching things up might help you see things differently. 

Everyone on the team had their niche. Alexei, with his brute strength. Bucky, his guns, and that metal arm. Ava could phase through about anything. Everyone had their thing. And you? You’d been stuck in the same position for far too long. 

“That is why I was so excited when I found this,” he says, crouching to pull a box from under the couch with a mischievous grin. 

Your brows lift, your curiosity piques. “What’ve you got?”

“Close your eyes!” he orders, and you obey, hands outstretched like a kid waiting for a surprise. Behind your closed lids, you hear the ripple of tape, the crinkle of bubble wrap, and then clank... a solid metallic sound, followed by the stretch of fabric. Then something is gently placed into your palms. 

It’s lighter than you expect. Smooth and flexible, but as your fingers trace further, you find the contrast, the cold, hard metal beneath the fabric. 

“Open your eyes!” he announces, barely able to contain his excitement. 

You do. And you’re impressed.

Combat-enhanced gloves, sleek Kevlar-weave across the surface, making your hands feel impossibly light and agile. Carbon-titanium plates reinforce the knuckles and strike zones, and the inside? A smart gecko-grip polymer, designed to boost grip on any surface. 

You stared, stunned. Not just by the gloves, but by the fact that Alexei went through the trouble to find them. Valentina might have gotten you something, if she wasn’t constantly ranting about budget cuts. But this? This came from someone who genuinely wanted to help. 

“You really are the best,” you say, laughing softly as you wrap your arms around his neck, the gloves still clutched in your hands. He lets out a big, satisfied huff of a laugh, and when you pull back, his smile nearly outshines the room.

Who could hate him? You hadn’t known Alexei that long, but somehow he already understood you better than most. 

“I know you like your shooting and whatnot,” he says, mock innocent. You roll your eyes and give him a playful jab to the shoulder. 

“But I also know,” he grins, “you really like punching things. So I thought–'Hey, you know who’d love combat gloves?’”

You can’t stop smiling. It actually hurts a little, but you don’t care. 

“Then I saw them, just sitting there in the market! I couldn’t believe it. Like the universe wanted me to buy them for you!”

“Universe said received,” you say, voice bubbling with gratitude and affection. You look down at the gloves, then back at Alexei. You’ll get him something too. Not because you owe him, but because it’s rare to be known like this. And his gift? 

It’s perfect.

[tea-biscuits-books]

invisible string

bob reynolds x reader

⚜️🥂🦾🌫️⚡️*️⃣

sunmary : you never believed in soulmates…until one day you feel a pull

word count : 3.2k

a/n - ik bob doesnt canonically have a little sister but hear me out - protective older brother hcs?

!soulmate trope !invisible string trope • brief mentions of steve x reader, !platonic bucky x reader

song : invisible string - taylor swift

⚜️🥂🦾🌫️⚡️*️⃣

You don’t believe in soulmates. They’re silly little children’s stories, the type that lull little girls to sleep with dreams of princes and fairytale endings. The simple truth is that the only prince that saves you is yourself. You thought someone was your soulmate once. Blonde, charming and a grin that made girls swoon, and pretty blue eyes that gazed at you with something you could only describe as adoration. ‘Doll,’ he called you with that voice that whispered promises late at night into your ear. ‘Stevie,’ You called him. He was ‘Captain America, Steve Rogers,’ to the world, but in your small little protective bubble he was yours and you were his. Until he left. With a briefcase in one hand, and your heart in the other, until he arrived back a couple seconds later, wrinkled with age and a golden ring wrapped around his finger. His eyes, still cornflower blue and just as alight with youth.

“Stevie.” You acknowledge, as if it was merely a casual greeting.

“Doll.” You can hear your voice break, feel your hands tremble by your sides, feel the burning hot blurring of your vision. You watch his lips move to form the familiar nickname. Doll. It had been years for him, minutes for you and it seemed to elict the same bittersweet sting within your chest as always.

“Was the dance worth it?” you breathe. There’s a pause, as if contemplating breaking your heart even further. And then he gives the tiniest nod. And you feel everything inside you shatter just one last time. And only when he turns around, you let a tear slip through the crevice of your mosaic heart.

You always thought these galas were a waste of time. You hide your scoff in your bubbling champagne glass, downing it within two gulps, plucking another from a passing waiter. Political opinions, the soft tinks of wine glasses, and the murmured chatter that was for only one purpose. To build connections. Frankly, quite stupid if you did say so yourself. You had to spend money on nails, to get your hair done and a new dress, though it wasn’t like you were short on assets. Your father had hosted too many charity events in his time, and yet every time he seemed to get drunker than the last, and each time people let him; merely because he was Tony Stark. Genius, philanthropist, billionaire, ironman and devoted father. Those were the titles that stained his name, etched into history books for ions to come. You never expected to be dragged into legal drama after Tony died. But then again, you never expected the government to repackage his legacy into a glossy, weaponized PR stunt. The Thunderbolts— John Walker (ew), Valentina Allegra De Fontaine (who names their child that?!), Bucky Fucking Barnes (backstabbing bitch), Ava Starr (eh), Alexei Shostakov (ehh), Yelena Belova (you weren’t necessarily opposed to her), and now Robert Reynolds (the guy who practically voided New York out of existence)—are being marketed as the “New Avengers” It’s not just insulting. It’s theft. Sam made his stance loud and clear. He filed a lawsuit backed by people who actually understand what the Avengers stood for. And since you’re a Stark with a law degree tucked between your engineering certifications and your grief, you’re now the face behind the suit. That’s why you’re here. This gala isn’t a party. It’s a battleground, dressed in tuxedos and champagne flutes. You’re here to corner Bucky. Strapped into heels far too high for comfort and wrapped in the kind of gown that demanded attention- coloured deep wine red and your hair was done in cascading curls—thick and glossy, tumbling down your back like a waterfall of y/h/c silk. You’re halfway through the crowd—eyes sharp, mouth neutral—when something shifts. You feel it like a snap in your chest. Not pain. Not panic. Just… tension. Like something soft winding around your ribs and gently pulling forward. Its insistent, a small tug that lures you to the target of the small annoyance. And…its…not who you expected. Robert Reynolds, fiddling with his tie, clad in a dark tuxedo, hair tentatively placed and smoothed with gel, dark and thick and looks soft enough for you to run your fingers through. And before you know it, your heels are striding across the floor with soft clicking that warns him of your upcoming presence. You hear the shuffle of his feet nervously, as he raises his eyes to meet yours, easily towering over your despite the 5 inches your shoes assist your height with. The first thing you notice is how warm his eyes are. They’re a soft brown, almost golden around the edges—eyes that looked too human for someone like him. The type of honeyed amber that reminded you of cocoa that hadn’t been stirred properly, dark and cloudy and a little too easy to sink into if you weren’t careful. You could feel the pressure behind them—barely restrained power, fragile control. One blink too long, and the Void might blink back. His lips twitch, his mouth opening then closing.

“You’re Y-Y/N Stark.” You let out a soft laugh at his stutter, his cheeks tinging pink at the sound.

“And you’re Robert Reynolds and you’re my key to finding Bucky Barnes tonight.”

“Bucky’s occupied at the moment-” He pauses for a moment as if contemplating his next words.

“And you can call me Bob.” The words hang in the air for a moment, unsure, but spoken with the tiniest curve of his lips.

“Bob. Right.” You murmur, sighing, your eyebrows furrowing as you begin to mumble incoherently. Bob’s face falls slightly as he stumbles over his next words.

“B-but he will be back soon. Valentina’s just sent him out-why do you want him anyway?” He covers his mouth.

“Sorry, I get talkative when I’m nervous I shouldn’t have asked that I’m sorry-” You wince at the steady pouring of words from his mouth as he stops to catch his breath.

“It’s alright Rober-Bob.” You catch yourself, watching as his face lights up, like a Christmas light.

“I’m here to talk to Bucky about coming home.” You watch as his face creases into confusion, his brows puckering.

“But Bucky is home,” He protests softly. You stop for a moment.

“Bucky’s home is with us.” You respond firmly.

“Sam, Joaqin and I. Away from those deranged fuckups and that psycho Valentina.” You can’t help the venomous words spilling and spitting from your mouth, they tumble out like dominoes, thoughts that had marinated a little too long so that it hurt and weighed down your chest.

“They’re not fuckups.” You turn your head back to him, feeling his eyes intensely stare at yours. They crumble slightly at your harsh gaze, but he doesn’t back down.

“Alexei, John, Yelena, Ava. They’re not fuckups. They saved me. They’re family.” You purse your lips, turning away.

“We’re Bucky’s family.” You murmur softly into the night. You don’t hear a response, already striding towards the shadowed figure that emerges into the bustling ballroom. As you increase the distance between the two of you, you attempt to ignore the pull that pulses in your chest, an invisible cord straining and unravelling in between the both of you.

“But-” Bob doesn’t finish, the words falling off his tongue as you walk away, his eyes following your retreating figure. His hand drops uselessly to his side, the apology dying in his throat. He wants to call after you, to explain, to do something, but his feet feel cemented to the floor and his chest aches with all the things he didn’t say soon enough.

“Bucky.” You greet, as you meet the dark eyes that remained cemented in your past, and hit a little too close to home. Dating Steve, Bucky was a constant, a close friend and companion that you trusted with your whole heart. He stiffens just slightly when his gaze meets yours—shoulders squared like he’s preparing for impact, and the soft sink of nostalgia and familiarity. Like everything was right except it wasn’t-like an old song that kept going out of tune. You remember long nights on the Tower rooftop, him nursing a drink while Steve paced and you laughed too loudly about things none of you had time to process. You remember what it felt like to have a family. Now, with Steve gone and the team scattered, seeing Bucky under this sharp lighting, in a pressed suit and behind the Thunderbolts’ name, feels like staring at a stranger who shares your grief.

“You look…” he starts, trailing off as his gaze flicks down to the wine-red of your gown.

“Different.”

“I had to,” you say simply. He nods, jaw tightening.

“Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Believe me, I didn’t want to be.” There’s a silence—thick with everything unsaid. The lawsuit. Steve. The way this new team uses the Avengers name like it’s just another label to wear. You glance behind Bucky’s shoulder instinctively. Bob isn’t there. But the string still hums. You feel it like static in your chest. A pull. Not painful—yet—but persistent. Like something reminding you he’s still in the room.

“You came to talk to me?” Bucky asks. You look up into his face, noticing the unshaven but groomed stubble that peppered his chin, and hair was slicked back, unruly even under the product. You feel the words clog your throat, feel your palms sweat against the silky fabric that clings to your sides. You feel his eyes roam your figure, suddenly finding yourself unable to speak.

“I-I wanted to talk to you about Sam and-” Bucky dismisses you with a stiff shake of head. You see the bitter acceptance on his face.

“He doesn’t want to talk to me. I tried.” You sigh softly, finding his prosthetic hand tentatively. It feels too comforting, too familiar, the way the feeling of cold metal clashes with the warm flesh of your palm. It flexes against you involuntarily, pausing and contemplating and drawing back ever so slightly, before finally clasping it’s fingers around yours.

“Did you really? He wants to Buck-he just wants things to be normal again.” Your voice softens.

“He just wants you to come home.” Bucky drags his other hand down his face, his features contorting into frustration.

“Well he ruined that the minute he filed a lawsuit against us.” His tone turns sharp, like a knife that nicks against your heart as you release your grip on his hand slightly.

“Us?” Bucky shuffles on his feet nervously, avoiding your gaze.

“y’know, the team and I.”

“right. The New Avengers.” The words feel venomous on your tongue as you release your intertwined hands, finding yourself craving for some liqour therapy. This night was really not going as you thought it would be.

The moment the glass doors click shut behind you, the noise of the gala fades into a dull hum—just another party filled with expensive perfume and fragile egos. Out here, on the balcony high above New York, everything feels colder. Cleaner. The wind snakes through the air, tugging at the curls pinned behind your ear, and you finally let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. The city sprawls out beneath you—steel and light and memory. It’s beautiful in that chaotic, untouchable way. Just like it always was. You take a sip of your champagne. Then another. This one longer, more deliberate. The bubbles burn slightly down your throat, but it’s the sharpness you’re chasing. A distraction. Something fizzy and sweet to fill the ache in your chest that even fresh air can’t quite clear. You grip the edge of the stone railing, cool beneath your fingertips, and tip your head back. Inhale. One, two. The air tastes like autumn and exhaust and the faintest trace of rain, and somehow it still feels better than anything in there. Behind you, there’s music. Laughter. Chatter. The world pretending everything’s fine. Out here, it’s quiet. Out here, you can think. And try to ignore the golden thread tugging gently at your ribs—reminding you that someone else is still in there. Still waiting. Still watching. It’s become insistent, painful, dragging your eyes over to his presence like an addictive sensation until they linger for just a moment too long and his eyes snap to yours and you have to pull your stare while your cheeks painfully colour like an embarrassed teenage schoolgirl.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone.” The voice is soft—low and warm, like honey stirred into coffee—and it startles you more than it should. You don’t turn around. Not yet.

“I’ve been alone for a while, Bob,” you say quietly, fingers curling tighter around the champagne flute. The glass is nearly empty. The sky above you is wide and starless. Below, New York pulses—bright and careless. You feel him step closer. Not enough to crowd you. Just close enough that the string between you pulls a little tighter.

“I know,” he says.

“I felt it.” That makes you pause.

“You feel it too?” A nervous laugh bubbles in your throat as he slowly nods.

“I thought I was just being delusional.” You redirect your eyes from his face to the skyline, watching the city lights bounce off each other, bustling traffic piercing the cool night air, leaning into the ornate railing. You watch his shoulders lose some of its tension from the corner of your vision, feeling the heat burn off him and seep into your bare arms, hear the breaths that let his chest rise and fall. The light from the ballroom spills faintly behind him, catching the edges of his soft brown hair with hints of gold where the light caught it and the soft brown of his eyes—almost too soft for someone who’s seen what he has. Almost.

“I have a theory. Just hear me out,” He holds up his hands, splaying his fingers out in a gesture of innocence.

“Soulmates. An invisible golden thread knots them together when they meet.”

“You can’t be fucking serious,” You laugh.

“Soulmates? What, we meet and fall in love?” A faint blush colors his cheeks—something you’ve started to notice happens more than he probably knows.

“No. We could be anything, platonic, romantic, enemies.” He mumbles, tugging on his suit sleeve jacket. You turn then, slowly, leaning your shoulder against the railing as you meet his gaze.

“You believe in all this, don’t you?” you murmur.

“The string. The soulmate thing.” His eyes don’t waver.

“I didn’t used to.” You snort, a bitter sound.

“Right. But then we made eye contact across the room and your whole worldview changed?” He doesn’t smile, though his lips do twitch in amusement at your blunt tone. But he also doesn’t flinch.

“No,” he says.

“But then my sister met hers.” You swallow.

“Sister?”

“Emily.” He confirms.

“21 in November.” You hum, noting the tone of protectiveness and love laced into his words. It’s the way he says her name, like she’s everything good in the world. Like she’s the reason he still tries. Something about that disarms you. Just a little.

“You’re close.” Bob nods.

“She’s the reason I got better. She used to write letters to me. Even when I couldn’t answer. Even when I didn’t remember who I was.” You don’t speak. You just listen—watching how his gaze drifts out over the city, how the wind plays with a few unruly strands of his hair.

“When she found her soulmate,” he continues, voice quieter now,

“It wasn’t fireworks or fate or some magical golden thread. It was subtle. Gradual. And terrifying. But I saw it change her. I saw her start breathing easier.” You study him in the dim light, unsure what to say.

“After that, I stopped rolling my eyes at the stories.” Your chest tightens. You’d mocked the golden string too—chalked it up to desperate hope or people needing something to believe in after the world had already ended five different ways. But now you feel it. Thin as breath. Quiet as a whisper. Pulling between you and him.

“I don’t want to believe in something just because it’s convenient,” you hear yourself say.

“Because it would make things… easier.” Bob finally turns to you again. And this time, he doesn’t look away.

“It doesn’t make anything easier,” he says softly, eyes burning into you.

“It just makes it real.” You take another sip of your champagne, though it doesn’t burn the way it did earlier. It’s lost its fizz. Or maybe you’re too distracted to notice it. The city below continues to hum—uncaring, alive.

“Do you feel it?” you ask, voice barely audible.

“Even now?” He nods. Once.

“Every time you speak,” he says. “Like something pulls a little tighter.”

You don’t respond right away. Just ponder on his words. ‘We could be anything, platonic, romantic, enemies’

“You know I have a story, on why they exist.” Filling the silence stretching between the pair of you.

“Soulmates exist because they’re two halves of a quantum entanglement—a pair of souls linked beyond space and time, their energies forever intertwined. No matter the distance, no matter the trials, their strings pull taut to guide them back to each other.”

“Now you’re speaking my language. Science.” You laugh softly.

“Quantum entanglement huh?” Bob nods, smile widening ever so slightly at your laugh. He made you do that. He made you laugh.

“And we could be whatever we want to?”

“Anything.” You step closer, the tension between you thick enough to taste. Without a word, you brush your fingers lightly against his jaw, then lean in—just for a moment—to press a soft kiss on his cheek. You feel the golden string inside you leap, as if glowing and radiant between the two of you. Bob freezes, his eyes wide, cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. The warmth of your lips lingers, and for a second, he’s caught somewhere between stunned and completely undone. You pull back, a small, knowing smile playing on your lips. Then, without another glance, you slip away—turning back inside the gala, leaving him standing alone on the balcony, heart pounding and face burning.

A week later, Bob lounges on the couch, book in hand, his eyes scanning the words but not quite reading them. His mind is stuck on the addictive feeling of warmth, the feeling of your lips pressed against the skin of his jaw, the red that bloomed on his cheeks. The feeling of you. The elevator rings, resonating throughout the common room of the tower as Valentina enters, holding up his suit jacket – freshly dry cleaned. And in the other hand- a crinkled slip of paper with numbrs inked in blue ink—Your number. Before he can react, Valentina’s voice cuts through the utter mortification that races in his mind and shows on his face.

“Well, well,” she says, eyebrow raised and knowing smirk wide on her face.

“Care to explain who this belongs to?” Bob’s blush deepens, a nervous laugh escaping as he tries to find words.

“It’s… complicated.”

[heartlogan]

alexei's void (short)

✮-- thunderbolts x platonic!reader

✮-- summary: alexei reveals some of what he saw in the void

✮-- a/n: this is a lil drabble of what i think alexei saw in the void! i didnt execute it very well :( but it's been ages since i have written fr so go easy

✮-- warnings: THUNDERBOLTS SPOILERS!, black widow (2021) references!!!, grief, angst, character death, near death experiences, the void (mentioned, references), bad ending, not executed well!!, not proofread xoxo

MASTERLIST

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶

This wasn't what you had expected to come from that day. You could never have expected this, especially not in your line of work. Mercenary, gun for hire, clean up crew -- whatever you liked to call it. It was dirty work, not made for good people, which is why you were so adept at it.

You didn't work for Valentina, not like the others did. You were outsourced, selected for one specific job on a one-time basis. She had hired you when her incinerator plan failed, had paid you almost a fortune up front to ensure you were committed to her goal. Kill her mercs.

There was only three of them -- one had already been eliminated -- so it should've been easy. Pick them off. Or, take them out in one go.

Except it didn't go like that. You knew of each of them, so you should've expected it. In fact, you had prepared for one of them, hell, even multiple of them to do something dumb or unexpected. There was just one variable you hadn't accounted for... one that Valentina hadn't told you about, one that hadn't even come up in your own research.

Alexei Shostakov.

Sure, you had known about his connection to one of your targets, Yelena Belova, but you knew that they hadn't been in contact. Their last mission together had been in Budapest, and they hadn't even seen each other in well over a year.

You had the three of them dead to rights, about to take them all out, until it hit you. And that was to say, literally hit you. A limousine came hurtling out of nowhere, sending you flying across the road, at least three ribs broken upon impact.

Now, you were strong, but not being hit by a limo going 50 miles an hour and getting straight back up-strong.

From there, it had all spiralled. They took you along with them, debating on whether or not to kill you, while you stared in shock the entire time. These were the infamous mercenaries you had been hired to kill? How they had escaped before, you had no idea. Pure chaos, you'd have to guess. They didn't seem to have an organised thought between them, and that was including the new addition of the Red Guardian.

Still, they won you over, which had pissed Valentina off to no end, especially when that meant you were included in 'her' new team.

You were pretty sure that the group of you had simply trauma bonded from the entire experience, finally finding kindred spirits due to the horror that sweet Bob had induced.

That wasn't to say that the whole group got along -- in fact, there was plenty of heated arguments and malice between everyone, but it worked. Somehow. Regardless, everybody had one another's backs. Even the likes of US Agent.

Most of you had only grown closer since the fallout, all living in a newly refurbished Avengers tower. This much was true even for you and the very man who had hit you with his limo. It wasn't a pairing most people expected, but Alexei was good to you... when he wasn't running you over, that is.

The two of you often found each other when the evening was beginning to bleed into the night. It started off as an accident, then eventually became more of a habit than anything else. He'd pass a bottle of vodka to you, and you'd give it back after at least two big gulps.

The drinking started off the bat, but the talking came later.

He started it, reminiscing on his Red Guardian days, his voice wistful but also more hopeful now. You could tell he was proud to be a part of this new team. Alexei wanted to help people. He wanted to be a hero.

And then you started talking, too. You told him snippets of your training, mostly sticking to stories that could be twisted into something humorous, rather than the horrifying tales of torture and abuse you still kept buried. The ones that you had relived in the void.

Alexei always had big feelings. He was loud about them, especially when it came to his daughter, and the team.

But this... this wasn't big.

You could see the feelings all over his face, the shame, the guilt. He was being quiet. It wasn't like him, not at all. Every wrinkle in his skin was layered with copious amounts of pain, clearly something that had been brewing over the course of years.

"Thanks," You murmured as you took the near-empty bottle of vodka from his outstretched hand. It was usually at least half-full when you arrived, but not today. "You gonna start?" You asked quietly, the burn in your throat easily ignored after opting for a heavy few swigs.

It was quiet, a long pause between the two of you as the bottle hovered between you. Then, it dawned on you.

"The void?"

A silent nod, followed by the swish of liquid in an upturned bottle. He sniffled.

"It is my fault." Alexei said softly, though his voice was rough, and you wondered if it had been him that you had heard yelling earlier on in the day. You waited for him to continue, unsure what to say otherwise. None of you were good people. Not really, despite the implications of the A on your uniforms. The likelihood was that, yeah, it probably was his fault.

You took the bottle when he offered it. Silent, trying to be nothing more than a listening ear. A supportive friend. However that worked.

"What happened to Yelena," He continued finally, his eyes staring ahead, never once having glanced at you. "It is my fault. I did that to her."

You hummed when he was silent after his statements, passing the bottle back. "Wasn't she trained in the red room?" You questioned quietly, not wanting to disrupt the gentle atmosphere between the two of you. It seemed as though if you were too loud, the man beside you may just fall apart.

"Because of me." He spat out, his words filled with more vitriol than you had ever heard from him.

After a moment, you rested your hand on top of his around the bottle of vodka, and you pulled it away from his lips. You left your hand there, against his. "What did you see?" You asked him gently, looking at the side of his face.

He heaved a shuddering breath.

"That day. After we left America." There were tears shining in his eyes, but he still refused to look at you.

"Alexei, you were on a mission. You..."

He cut you off. "You do not understand." Alexei shook his head, pulling his hand away from yours, and taking a swig from the bottle. "Natasha. She begged me not to let them take Yelena. I told her, I said, my girls... my girls are strong."

There was something haunted in his voice. You had never heard him like this before. Throughout all of your talks, discussions, vents, it had never been this.

You knew he was filled with grief, much like Yelena, but he had never revealed how much that grief was brimming within him. This was a crack in his loud persona, and it revealed an inside just waiting to burst. You had no idea he was holding all of this in. He always seemed so... not content with his choices, but something close to it.

"They are strong." You told him hesitantly, because you didn't know what to say to him. There was nothing you could do to heal this wound.

"They had no choice." He answered. "And now, my daughter... Natasha is gone. I nearly lost Yelena," He barely held in a sob at the memory. "Ever since the void, I think, I say what if. If I protected my girls that day, they would both be here. No?"

There was no hesitation from you now. "Or, all of you could have been killed that very day." You told him firmly, brows furrowed as you watched him stare down at the now empty bottle. "Alexei, you can't think like that. Everyone in this building has suffered, and we all should've been protected from it, but we weren't. We learn to live with it. Natasha made something of herself, something she was proud of. And Yelena is doing that, too."

"But that happy little girl... she will never return." Alexei sniffled, closing his eyes.

You frowned, torn between what you should say, unsure if this was a conversation he should be having with Yelena herself.

And then she appeared.

Waltzed through the door as if her father figure wasn't about to have a mental breakdown. "Hey! There you are," She greeted, cheerful considering the time of night and the sight before her. She paused, eyebrows raising. "Is... everything alright?"

You leaned closer to Alexei, knocking his shoulder with your own. "I wouldn't be too sure of that." You murmured to him, seeing that glow within her that he often spoke of.

Alexei nodded to Yelena, smiling tightly, but it seemed mostly genuine.

"Come, it is dinner time. Barnes cooked." She said, seeming amused. And even though it was way later than dinner time, you and Alexei both got up together, following after her.

[mallory524]

Okay, so this is kinda like a pt.2 of platonic child reader if that'd okay? I just thought about something, what if something happens to you, ? Like something about Valentina doing something to you that changes you a bit, and how they react to it? Bob's def mad about that,

This is a bit angst, but everyone needs a bit of angst in their lifes, hehe :3

(STOP THIS IS SUCH A GOOD IDEA i love it, part 2 babyyyy)

thunderbolts & platonic child reader - angsty part ii

tags- a year after thunderbolts*, manipulation by valentina, mentions of minor burn injuries, angsty because reader's sad and everyone's sad but it's all okay, mentions of all the thunderbolts' pasts

notes- hey y'all idk what happened, i was crashing out like 2 days ago and i guess i redirected all my stress and obsessive energy towards this and then forgot to post it until now. maybe this is incoherent or great idk, anyway it's way longer than i intended

It's really weird when you and Valentina start to talk like you're friends or something.

At first you had just kinda brushed her off. She took advantage of your friends and nearly had them killed, but it's a weird position to be in because the New Avengers now work with her. Of course they all hate her, and so do you.

She is good at making conversation, though. At least you've got someone to talk to when the team is away.

She shows you around some labs and rooms you haven't had the clearance to get into before. Whenever you're together, she sprinkles in little comments about how smart and mature you are, and how the team should let you in on more than they do. You know what she's doing, so you mostly just ignore it. Mostly.

Valentina does have a point; they haven't been letting you in recently. Make no mistake, they always make sure you feel really appreciated and loved, but they've just been a bit distracted with all the work that's started to pile up.

One day Valentina offers you some wearable tech you've never seen before. She says it's so you can "protect yourself". It's a weapon. A weapon that's too powerful for you. It feels all wrong. You're an honorary New Avenger at best, you're not a fighter like them, and they'd freak out if they found out Valentina offered you this. You don't get why she's doing this, and you turn it down. It's just too weird.

Of course, you don't even know the half of it. You weren't around when she did this exact thing to Bob.

A few nights later, Bucky finds out about your friendship with Valentina... if you can even call this a friendship. It's like a working relationship between two people who don't work together. She has no business trying to get to know you like this. It feels nefarious.

You never get into fights with the group, or at least not about anything serious; it's usually just bickering about nonsense. This night however, you and Bucky argue for a while. The others jump in to side with him, and that just makes it worse.

There's a lot of "We told you, she's not someone you want to be friends with." and "It's not like we're best friends! I can't talk to people? Why are you acting like I'm a little kid" and "We told you about everything she did and you're still-" and on and on and over and over-

There's something different about you tonight. Maybe it's your cadence of speech. Maybe it's your posture. It's been slowly happening for a few weeks and no one can really put their finger on what it is, but it's weird. You've never shouted at your friends like this. It's clear to all of them that Valentina is trying to turn you into someone else, like she did with Bob and "the Sentry".

When everyone's given up and gone to their rooms for the night, you go to find Valentina and tell her you changed your mind.

Big mistake.

You just wanted to take back a little control by having something cool that was your own.

That weird machinery she gave you? Clearly no one had ever tested it out while wearing it the way you're supposed to. It's out of control and excruciating the moment you turn it on.

You aren't sure if you'd even be able to take it off. It looks like it fused with your skin or something horrifying like that. It's unclear what kind of tech this is. What could even do this? You don't want to know.

After that, more than anything, you're angry.

You're angry that Valentina used you as a test subject. You're angry that your friends treated you like a little kid who didn't know any better about her. You're angry that they were actually right. You're angry that you started to trust Valentina and let it ruin everything.

You've become a lot more quiet and irritable, and you just look tired all the time.

You don't think you can fix this.

Yelena is furious that Valentina managed to do this again.

All Yelena's ever wanted for you is to have a better early life than she did. You shouldn't have been used like this. Your vulnerabilities shouldn't have been played on like this.

She feels awful. She knows you had to have felt really isolated to get yourself into this situation in the first place.

She just didn't notice until it was too late. That'll bother her for a while.

Of course, Yelena’s friends can always rely on her when they make a mistake. That’s who she is. That goes for you, too.

You're zoning out a lot more often. Your silence doesn't seem as comfortable, it just seems sad. She always manages to pull you out of it, though.

No matter what you're feeling or thinking, about yourself or others or everything that's happened lately, she wants to make it better. She's pretty good at it, too.

You might not feel like you're in the mood to laugh, but that's too bad. Yelena's natural warmth and humor makes it hard to stay quiet and sad for very long.

Maybe you'll be in a weird mood for a while, but at least for the moment, Yelena saw you start to smile. That's enough for her. For now.

Bucky may have been pretty tough on you the night everything went down, but you won't hear a single "I told you so" from him. He feels too bad, he wouldn't get a sliver of enjoyment from that.

He's focused on fixing everything about this that he can.

You're injured from that equipment you had attached to your arms. Bucky knows the feeling. It took him a long time to see his own arm as anything besides the weapon he didn't ask for.

Luckily, yours isn't permanent like his. He'll help you fix it.

He knows a lot of people. He'll get in contact with some very skilled medical professionals who can repair any physical damage that's been done to you.

He also knows a few people who'd be very interested to know about Valentina's continued shady activity.

If you ever apologize to him for yelling at him that one night, he tells you not to worry about it.

If you never apologize, he doesn't mind. He knows that being wrong about something with such awful consequences is a tough thing to come to terms with. Your relationship will mend anyway. You both understand the other without having to say all that out loud.

Ava was used as a weapon for a long time. Forced to be a soldier when she was way too young.

Luckily, your situation is a little different. You have all of them, the Thunderbolts. Together, you can undo what's been done. You may have learned the hard way, but still.

She sees how you've gotten a bit sullen and reclusive, whereas your silence used to be comfortable and peaceful.

She's seen that attitude before, in herself, when she was just a young lonely girl.

She's just a little easier on you than usual, but for the most part she tries to treat you like she always has. She doesn't want to overwhelm you with special attention or anything.

You spend your usual chill quiet hang out time together. It's very comforting.

John is a very protective person, and the moment he catches on to those little changes in your behavior, he is really bothered by it.

Valentina swooped in during one of his lowest moments, and now he sees she tried to do it again.

That night you were all fighting with each other, John was probably the most mad.

Mad at Valentina, not really you, but it may not have looked like that.

"How do you not understand what’s happening here? You’re smart, but you’re letting her in after everything she’s done to each of us-"

When the dust had settled and you could eventually see what had been going on, you look back and you know that John was just worried about you. Sure, he's really not great at expressing it, but that's what it was.

You're healing physically and mentally, and he'll try to check in like a normal person.

"So. Yanno. How are you feeling? Does your... like, your arm hurt still?"

He always sounds like he's never comforted anyone before and he's just copying what he's seen other people do, but it's sweet anyway.

He regularly peeks his head into your room when the door's open to see how you're doing and to ask if you want to hang out. That's how he shows he's there to listen.

Alexei was the first to notice the little changes in your behavior. At first, he didn’t even know what kind of change it was, but it eventually became pretty clear what had started to happen: You haven’t been yourself lately, and it's because of Valentina.

It's like with Yelena all over again. "The light in your eyes has dimmed"

He did so much for you and was always there when you needed him, but he doesn't see that right now. All he can think to do is blame himself.

He feels like he wasn't present enough. He thinks that if he’d really done enough for you, Valentina wouldn’t have been able to sway you like this.

He's not too good about personal space or "alone time", but sometimes that's what helps. You never question whether or not he cares. He makes that pretty clear.

Bob. How do you think Bob reacted to this?

He finally sees it from the other side. When Valentina had tried to get close to him and win him over, it felt weird, but he was so vulnerable he fell for all of it. The memory makes him feel a little queasy.

Knowing it just happened to you too makes him feel sick to his stomach.

He feels like this is worse because Valentina's experimentations on him, inhumane as they were, left him invincible, whereas you've only got painful injuries to show for it.

Bob is mad.

He's as comforting to you as he can be. You're keeping to yourself even more than usual, so he gives you the space you want, but he's there if you need him.

If you try to reach out, even in a small way, he's there.

He doesn't want to act like anything's wrong. He doesn't want you to think he sees you any differently. It's difficult though, because you have changed. Maybe just a little, and maybe not forever, but it's hard to pretend everything's the same it's always been. You're so sad and withdrawn.

Valentina keeps a bit more distance after this. She may not be intimidated by the rest of the New Avengers, but she is kind of intimidated by Bob. He's a sweetheart, but it's hard for her to forget everything he's capable of and everything he did to NYC like a year ago.

To you, though, he's as sweet as ever.

They're all so worried about you, but this part of your life isn't forever. You trusted the wrong person and let it get between you and the life you've started, but your friends are there to help you.

That's because they 1) love you more than anything and 2) want to help you to live a life they didn't get to live. They all see pieces of themselves in you. They see parts of their past in your current situation. They know what they would've wanted and needed back then.

One day you're all sitting around and talking and nothing feels off anymore. No one notices at first, because everything's natural like it used to be.

One messy argument with some ugly consequences didn't ruin your life. Far from it. Everything will be like it was again, if not stronger, because they saw you when you were low and you all banded together to get through it.

[yelenasburnbook]

It’s done! Not quiet on my masterlist yet (I’m too sleepy) but it’s pinned on my blog!! Enjoy loves!

[writerslittlelibrary]

Were you expecting someone?

masterlist

summary: thinking it’s a day like any other, you simply busy yourself with some homework and your hobbies, until there’s suddenly a gun pointed at your head

pairing: Natasha x daughter reader, Yelena x niece reader, Melina & Alexei x granddaughter reader

warnings: a gun? 

genre: fluff

words: 1265

a/n: I thought there should be way more content about the Widow family. I love to see more of the concept of Melina and Alexei with a grandchild

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work 

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

When you woke up this morning, you were not expecting the situation you were currently in. Because you were wearing your headphones, you had not heard anyone enter the house. Your mom told you she would be gone until late afternoon, and while you were busying yourself with some drawings, you had completely forgotten the time.

Not that it mattered, really. Usually, when your mom comes home she’d always let you know, whether she’d send you a text or simply come into your room and say hi. 

This situation however, was slightly different. One moment you were peacefully sketching some ideas you were working on, and the next moment you could feel the cold metal of a gun pressed against your temple. You slowly looked up from your sketchbook, not making any sudden movements. 

You thought the woman in the room was simply another Widow from the Red Room, sent to assassinate you. You’d been dealing with those ever since you escaped two years ago. 

When you didn’t feel the woman relax her grip on the gun, nor feeling a bullet piercing your skull, you decided to handle the situation yourself. You turned around swiftly, grabbing the gun and pulling it towards yourself, managing to yank the woman forward and knee her in the gut. You pushed her to the side, holding the gun tightly as she let it go in surprise. 

She made a move quickly, hitting you across the face. You replied by swiping her legs from under her, letting her fall to the ground as you ran out the room. 

You made a run to the stairs, moving to get down as fast as possible. When you did, you saw two other people standing in the living room. It was a man and a younger woman. She couldn’t have been older than 25. 

Your eyes widened in surprise as you made a move to run to the front door. You could hear the woman from upstairs making her way down as well. Once you reached the door however, it opened, revealing your mom standing in the doorway holding some groceries. 

She smiled at you, then frowned when she saw blood on your face. 

“We have to go,” you said quickly, grabbing her hand and trying to run away. She however, didn’t move. You turned around to see her stifling a laugh. 

“Were you expecting someone?” you asked her, letting go of her hand and looking at her. “I’m sorry,” she just told you, letting a laugh escape. 

She grabbed your arm and dragged you into the living room, setting her bags down before pushing you onto a chair, making a move to grab the first aid kit. “Natasha, Who is that?” you heard the woman from before ask in a strong Russian accent. “I should have warned you,” she said, sitting next to you and carefully cleaning up the blood from your face. 

“Yeah, you really should have,” you told, wincing slightly when she pressed the alcohol cloth onto the wound. 

“I’m not too pleased you injured her though,” Natasha told the woman. “She attacked first,” the woman replied. You frowned and looked at the woman. “You held a gun to my head!” you told her. The younger woman grinned, clearly finding the situation amusing. 

“Y/N, meet my family, guys, meet my daughter,” Natasha said, putting a band-aid on your forehead before cleaning up the things she used, stashing the first aid kit back into the cupboard it came from. 

“How?” the younger woman simply asked, sitting down on the other side of you. “Dreykov created her using my eggs after I was sterilized. I didn’t know about her until two years ago,” Natasha explained, grabbing you a glass of water to help with the headache she knew was going to form. 

You thanked her for the water and looked at the other two people standing in the room. They hadn’t made a move to sit down yet. 

“Y/N, meet Melina, Alexei and Yelena,” Natasha introduced, motioning to the person she meant when she said their name. “Yelena’s my sister-” “And now an aunt too,” Yelena interrupted, also having a heavy Russian accent. She seemed ecstatic by that fact. You smiled at her and simply drank some of your water. “Are you going to stand and glare or…” you said slowly, referring to Melina and Alexei. 

Slowly they sat down. The moment they did, Alexei smiled. “Welcome to the family!” he said excitedly, motioning his hands up a little. 

Melina now smiled too, getting up and moving towards the fridge. “We need to celebrate,” she simply said as she opened it and reached for a bottle of vodka. She opened some cupboards until she found the one holding the glasses, and grabbed some shot glasses. 

She put them on the table and filled them. There were five of them, but you decided not too say anything. Natasha would never let you drink it anyway.

Melina put a glass in front of everyone, you included. 

She lifted her glass, as if to make a little toast. “Welcome to the family,” she said as she drank the vodka. Yelena and Alexei did the same, while you just looked at Natasha and smiled awkwardly. 

She returned your smile, grabbing her own shot of vodka and drinking it. You didn’t touch yours. “You are not drinking?” Melina asked, stating the obvious. You smiled at her and shook your head. “I’m 16,” you told her, and Melina frowned. 

“So?” 

“We’re in the United States… It's illegal here. Besides, it's like three pm…” you told her, glancing at the clock. “It is always good time for a drink,” Melina simply replied, pouring herself another glass. You smiled and grabbed your water, finishing the glass. Of course you drank vodka before. You were a Russian after all, but your mother didn’t need to know that.

After Yelena swiped your glass and drank it herself, you turned to your mother. “Can I go now?” you asked, wanting to get out of the awkward family get together. 

Natasha smiled and nodded. You got up from your chair and made your way upstairs, immediately jumping onto your bed and grabbing your phone, wanting to tell Wanda everything that just happened. 

You talked with Wanda on the phone for a while, explaining how Melina had you at gunpoint and about how bad you felt you threw her on the ground. Wanda laughed at certain things you told her, feeling as though it was a situation you could both laugh about, and you didn’t actually feel bad about something. You two talked for a few hours, simply enjoying hearing the other talk. Then Wanda had to go, saying her dinner she ordered had arrived. 

A few minutes after hanging up the phone, you heard a knock on your door. When it opened Yelena walked inside. 

“So this is your room huh?” Yelena said as she looked around your room, picking up some stuff and flipping through your sketchbook. “Cool,” she said, sitting down on your desk chair. “Natasha told me to come get you because the food is here.”

“Thanks,” you told her, rolling from the middle of the bed to the side, so you could plug your phone into its charger and get up. 

“I think we’ll be good friends,” Yelena said, getting up herself and exiting your room, followed by you. You smiled. This definitely wasn’t how you expected meeting Natasha’s family, had you known about them, but you couldn’t deny you were excited to get to know them better. 

[dameronspector]

Hii everyone!

reply/interact if you’d be interested in this + if you wanna be tagged in this 🫶 this is a long one! Might have more than two parts and the summary might be edited later! This is a Percy Jackson x MCU AU

[sycamorelibrary754]

Happy Thanksgiving

Summary: You invite Natasha’s family to join you for Thanksgiving. Holiday cheer and a surprise awaits!

Genre: Fluff

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x reader, Yelena Belova x reader (platonic), Alexei Alanovich Shostakov x reader (platonic) Melina Vostokoff x reader (platonic)

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: None

A/N: This was a fun one. Happy Thanksgiving!

When you first broached the subject with Natasha of inviting Yelena, Melina, and Alexi to your home for Thanksgiving, you weren’t sure how your wife would respond. True, things were better. Their relationship had gone through something of a healing process since they took down Dreykov and the Red Room together, but her family was still a lot to handle. Most of the team was going to Iowa to spend Thanksgiving with the Barton’s. Clint had gotten it into his head to deep fry the turkey this year. It was going to be can’t-miss-entertainment according to Sam. However, you and Natasha were looking forward to a more intimate holiday.

“You really want my family to join us for Thanksgiving?” Her eyes met yours as you snuggled up on the couch together.

“I think it could be really fun. Plus, you deserve to spend quality time with them that doesn’t involve death, destruction, or pigs,” you joked. 

“You don’t like mom’s pigs?” She smirked.

No, love. I do. They’re adorable. Especially once Yelena made them those personalized piggy vests,” you giggled.

“Oh, yeah… Pests!” Natasha laughed recalling the image. 

“So what do you think? A Romanoff family Thanksgiving?”

She thought for a moment before a smile reached her lips. “Okay, let’s do it. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think it could be fun,” caressing your cheek softly. 

You went into planning mode upon receiving Nat’s approval and confirmation that all three were available and would be there with bells on. You were determined to make it a memorable holiday for everyone.

*^~^*

You left early to hit the grocery store the Monday before Thanksgiving. It was crucial to avoiding the out-of-stock items and the rush of “fucking annoying slowpokes who don’t know a shallot from an onion,” you eloquently informed your wife after wiggling out of her warm hold. 

Nat mumbled something akin to, “See you later, detka,” her head buried in her pillow as you hurriedly put on your coat, scarf, and beanie and rushed out of the house. Your car keys and shopping list clenched purposefully in your fist.

*^~^*

The front door slammed shut a couple of hours later, alerting Natasha to your arrival.

“I’m home, love!” You called out.

“The conquering shopper has returned! How was the store?” Looking around at the mountain of groceries cluttered around you like presents under the Christmas tree. 

“It was good! I managed to get everything on the list,” removing your warm attire and running your hand smoothly through your hair. 

“I can see that, y/n. Did you leave anything for the other shoppers?” Nat smirked. 

“This is all necessary for the traditional Thanksgiving feast I have planned for us,” you explained. “Your family has never had an American Thanksgiving, so I thought, why not go all out?” 

Your wife stepped carefully around your grocery maze and wrapped her arms lovingly around your neck. “Have I told you how much I love you?” 

“Not in the last twenty minutes,” jokingly glancing at the imaginary watch on your wrist before planting a tender kiss on her lips.

Natasha offered to unpack the groceries for you. Meanwhile, you set about creating a cooking timeline for the meal preparation. You were so in your element your wife couldn’t help but smile. As you typed away on your laptop, your adorable expression reminded her of your demeanor in the field. You were focused, engaged, and confident. 

*^~^*

A creature of habit, Natasha awoke the following morning for her daily run. She groggily reached over to turn off her alarm until she realized the alarm hadn’t gone off. No, the clanging of pots and pans from the kitchen tore her from her blissful sleep. Nat rolled over to your side of the bed only to find it empty. She groaned softly and sat up, cracking her neck and stretching her arms over her head as a yawn escaped her lips.

Natasha padded down the hall toward the kitchen, still clad in her pajamas and the fuzzy socks you bought her. She turned the corner to find you floating around the kitchen in a whirlwind—dishes in the oven and stove.

“Moya lyubov? You’re already in the kitchen?” Rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“No rest for the wary, sweetheart. I’ve got to get the pumpkin pie out of the way so I can get started on the sides by this afternoon,” you explained, fervently whisking your pumpkin puree into your custard mixture. You glanced around the counter like you were looking for something. “Oh, can you hand me those spice jars behind you?”

She picked up the cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger, stacking them precariously on top of one another like blocks before appearing at your side.

“Nicely done. You missed your calling as a professional Jenga player.”

“Take your damned spices,” she snarked.

You sprinkled the spice mixture into the filling and let it sit. “Okay,” you said, wiping your brow. “I just need to grab the pie crust out of the oven. It should be par-baked by now.”

“I got it, detka,” pulling on the oven mitts and removing the pan from the oven. 

Perfect, now we’re just going to fill the crust,” carefully pouring the custard filling. “Then this is going back in the oven at 325 for 45-60 minutes.” 

Nat carefully placed the pie back in the oven. “Shall I close, doctor?”

“Please,” in your most professional voice before lapsing into giggles. 

“Now, that’s in. We can get started on the sides. Mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, stuffing, cranberry feta salad,” you listed.

Two types of potatoes?”

“Oh, it’s a must, love! You get both the salty and the sweet. It’s potato perfection.”

“Hmm, just like you,” she said suggestively.

“Smooth,” you replied.

“I try," putting her arm around your shoulder.

*^~^*

You were still in the kitchen when Natasha returned from her run. 

“Have you taken a break at all since I left?” She removed her running shoes and placed them by the front door.

“No time for breaks. Your sister just texted me and asked if Mac and Cheese was part of the American Thanksgiving tradition, so I’m whipping up one for her.”

Your wife rolled her eyes. “For God’s sake, that’s not necessary, malyshka. Yelena will survive one meal without her precious Mac and Cheese.” 

“It’s no problem. I want your family to feel comfortable! That’s why I also have a sparkling Vodka cocktail planned,” you winked. 

“That is so sweet, but there is no need to stress over it, y/n. They are going to love it no matter what you make. Plus, you know if you feed them this well, they’ll never leave, right?”

“Wouldn’t that be wonderful?” You joked.

“No, it wouldn’t,” she deadpanned.

The rest of the afternoon was spent preparing the stuffing, cranberry sauce, garlic green beanies, and gravy. By the time you finally laid down on the couch Tuesday evening, still in your apron, you were pleased with your progress. Your legs lay across Natasha’s lap while she massaged your aching feet. She wasn’t surprised to look over and find you sound asleep five minutes later as the television glow illuminated your features. Your wife could only smile at your sleepy form before gently picking you up and carrying you to bed.

*^~^*

Wednesday morning Natasha decided to let you sleep in, so she made the executive decision to turn your alarm off. Truthfully, she felt guilty for how hard you had been pushing yourself this week for the sake of her family. Nat was nursing a cup of tea and reading a book in the family room when she heard you down the hall.

“Oh, crap!” You shouted.

“3,2,1…..” Natasha counted down.

“Nat, why didn’t you wake me up!” Throwing on your favorite cardigan as you entered the room. “I’ve still got to make the pretzel bread and raspberry jello today.”

“You needed the sleep. I can’t tell you’re exhausted, and you were sleeping so soundly when I got up.”

You had a look of panic in your eyes.

“It’s okay, y/n. I found the jello and bread recipes on the table and got the jump on it for you. The jello is done and in the fridge, and the bread dough is under the towel rising.”

You blinked a couple of times as if she was speaking Latin. “You cooked?” 

“Are you questioning my abilities?” Raising an eyebrow. 

“Well.… yeah? I love you, sweetheart, but the only thing I’ve ever seen you make is a peanut butter sandwich.”

“See for yourself,” smiling proudly and removing her reading glasses.

Opening the fridge, you were pleasantly surprised to find a gelatinous raspberry jello staring back at you. You then peeked under the towel on the counter to find the bread dough had just about doubled in size.

“Well, turn me upside down and paint me blue!”

“Hmmm, tempting, but let’s save that for after my family leaves,” Natasha smirked as she kissed the side of your temple from behind. 

“This is awesome, my love. Thank you so much,” turning around in her hold. “I have to say, the thought of the Black Widow cooking Thanksgiving dinner is incredibly sexy.”

“Is it now?” She said, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Very, I may have to get you your apron,” you teased as Natasha gently grasped your ear lobe between her teeth before placing soft kisses down your neck. Her phone dinged with a text notification on the counter beside you a few moments later. You glanced down at the screen out of the corner of your eye.

“It’s Yelena, sweetheart...”

“Is she on fire? Otherwise, I’m not stopping.” Moving the tender kisses to your lips. 

“No, she wants to know if she should bring anything,” you replied between kisses.

She feels terrible we’re doing all the work,”

“She’s bringing our parents, that’s a shit ton of work.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

*^~^*

The next day, you and Natasha got started on the crown jewel of your Thanksgiving dinner: the turkey. After letting it thaw in the fridge all week, your twenty-pound bird had been marinating in a salt brine for twelve hours. You placed the turkey in the oven at 425 degrees for 35 minutes, which gave you two just enough time to get ready before it needed to be basted.

You heard the doorbell after showering and putting on your best fall colors.

“Baby, they’re here!” you called, opening the door to welcome your guests.

Alexi was sporting a plush turkey hat while Melina held a freshly made appetizer. Standing in front of both of them, Yelena had Fanny at her feet. She quickly stepped inside first with a warm hug and a peck on your cheek. 

“Happy Thanksgiving, y/n! Thank you so much for inviting us. “Now,” placing both hands on your shoulders. “Where is the booze? I just had to spend the last 20 minutes in the car alone with them, listening to Alexi ramble on about his stupid hat.”

You point toward the coffee table, holding the sparkling Vodka cocktails as your sister-in-law gives you a cheeky smile. “I love you.” 

“Haha!” Alexi exclaimed. Greetings, my wonderful daughter-in-law. I am ready for turkey!” Wrapping you in a giant bear hug.

“Could’ve fooled me, Alexi,” you joked. “Ooh, Melina, what do we have here? It looks delicious.”

“A traditional Russian appetizer, Mushroom Julienne. Mushrooms and onions cooked in cream sauce, cheese, and sour cream.”

“My mouth is already watering. Here, let me take your coats. You can place them on the coffee table,” you offered. 

After tending to the coats, you rejoined the group as everyone settled in the family room for appetizers and cocktails. Holiday music played softly in the background, setting the scene perfectly. You sat on the sofa beside your wife while your in-laws treated you to numerous stories of Natasha and Yelena’s all-to-brief childhood in Ohio. Some of which you had yet to hear. 

“Y/N, has Natalia told you how she and Yelena used to stay up late on Christmas Eve to try and catch Santa Claus?” Melina asked. 

“Now, that was fun. You know, he comes down the chimney, girls. Look out! Where is he? You wait for him, and when the cookies are gone, you see he’s there.” Alexi recalled.

Yelena smiled fondly at the memory while Natasha turned red as Santa’s suit and hid her face in her hands.

“Aww, honey,” rubbing circles on her back. It’s precious! I’m sure you were adorable.” 

“As adorable as you can be with bright blue hair. You looked like cotton candy,” Yelena laughed. 

Nat threw a pillow across the room, barely missing her sister’s head.

“Ha!! Missed!” Yelena snarked.

“Girls, behave,” Melina ordered.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sisterly teasing and family banter. This was exactly what you were hoping for, and the evening was just getting started.

“Oh, detka, you don’t have a drink yet. Let me get you one,” Natasha offered, standing up, but your hand on her arm stopped her. 

“Oh, no thanks, love. I actually need to go check on the turkey.” 

“I’ll join you,” Yelena announced. “I want to see this bird you Americans are so crazy about.”

You opened the oven to reveal your delectable 20-pound turkey. “Do you want to brush it with the honey glaze for me, Yelena? I’m going to check on the side dishes.” 

“Just call me DaVinci!” She declared.

You turned around to find your sister-in-law had finished the glazing by painting a smiley face on the turkey. 

“Wow, I didn’t know our turkey had such a charming smile,” you joked. Reducing the heat to 325 and setting the timer for another 75 minutes. 

“Thank you again for including us today, y/n. While it would’ve been fun to watch Barton sear his eyebrows off trying to deep-fry a turkey, it's been nice to see Natasha so happy. We didn’t have any family holidays growing up. Not real ones, anyway.”

“Well, you always will now,” placing an arm around her shoulder. “I will spend the rest of my life trying to make your sister happy. That’s a promise.”

*^~^*

While the turkey finished cooking, you decided to share as many of your Thanksgiving traditions as possible. You watched the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, took in some Turkey Day football, and even played a rousing game of Pictionary.

“What the hell is that?” Yelena shouted as Nat was diligently engaged in her drawing.  

“Oooh! Ooh! A ladybug doing the Macarena!”You screamed just before the timer ran out.

“Yes!” Nat shouted.

“Unbelievable, what is that? Five in a row,” Melina remarked. No wonder you two are such a good team.”

“Well, it's no surprise you're a pro at Pictionary. Who needs talent when you can just doodle like a 5-year-old?” Yelena retorted.

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game, Lena,” dropping the marker like a microphone.

“Trust me, I do. It will be perfect for when I want to torture Kate Bishop.”

“With that, I think it’s time for dinner,” you announced happily. 

*^~^*

It only took a few minutes before your Thanksgiving feast was lovingly displayed on the dining room table. The sight and aroma of the food was a gentle massage to the soul.

“Before we dig in,” holding up your glass for a toast, “I just wanted to say how happy Nat and I are that you could join us today. We love you, and I’m so thankful to be a part of your family.”

Natasha grasped your hand and placed a soft kiss on your knuckles. 

“We feel the same way,” Melina concurred.

“Yes, we’re so happy that you and our little Natalia found each other,” Alexi added.

“Yes, y/n is a saint. It’s all very touching. Can I carve the turkey now,” Yelena groaned, holding up a sharpened carving knife. 

“You may proceed,” you declared with a Queen’s wave of your hand. 

Dishes were passed around the table like musical chairs. Wine filled everyone’s glasses while you opted for your favorite - Martinelli’s Sparkling Cider. You pretended not to notice Yelena sneaking a few scraps to Fanny under the table. The chatter rose and fell, every few moments dispersed with laughter. It was the kind of occasion most aren't aware they're genuinely enjoying yet look back at in warm nostalgia.

After hibernating in your Thanksgiving food comas, you returned to the family room for dessert. You were excited to finally bring out the homemade Pumpkin pie topped with whipped cream.

“Ah, now this is a beautiful pie.” Look at this, girls. I love America, you cannot get this back in St. Petersburg.” Alexi gushed. 

“Y/N made it from scratch,” your wife bragged, causing you to blush at the compliment.

“Did y/n also split the atom?” Yelena teased. She earned an eye roll from her older sister. “Could you BE more whipped?”

“No, I honestly don’t think I could,” Natasha looked at you like you had hung the moon and the stars. 

*^~^*

As the evening wound down, the hustle and bustle of the past week was starting to catch up to you. Your wife didn’t miss your heavy eyelids or the tiny yawn that escaped your lips as Fanny hopped up on the couch to lay down beside you. 

“Well, we should probably get going. Traffic will be annoying when crossing back over the bridge,” your sister-in-law said.

“Before you go, I have gifts for all of you!” You exclaimed, jumping up off the couch. 

“You do?”A bewildered expression on Nat’s face. 

“I do!” You’re voice trailed away as you padded down the hall toward your bedroom.

Natasha turned around to her family with a shrug of her shoulders. She had no clue what you were talking about. You returned a moment later with small autumn-gold gift bags. 

“This is just a little something for each of you,” clasping your hands together in front of your smiling face. Natasha was even more confused when you handed her one as well. “Go on, sweetheart,” you encouraged.

Natasha removed the delicate tissue paper. Her solid and calloused hands met the soft cotton hiding inside. She pulled the gift out and held it up in front of her. A tiny onesie that read “Mommy’s Little Turkey” was staring back at her. 

Natasha stared at it speechlessly, wide-eyed. A first for your relationship. Finally, her brain caught up with the moment. “Moya lyubov—what? We—you…you’re pregnant?”

You nodded vigorously, starting to cry. Natasha’s hands cupped your cheeks. Her lips met yours in a heartfelt kiss, not caring that her family was watching. You gently combed your fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck, returning the kiss.

Melina, Alexi, and Yelena held up their onesies to find variations of Natasha’s: Grandma’s Little Turkey, Grandpa’s Little Turkey, and Auntie’s Little Turkey.” 

“I knew it!”Yelena shouted.

Melina turned to Natasha and whispered, “You see what can happen when you keep your heart,” holding her lovingly in her arms.  

Vashe zdorov'ye! (Cheers) Alexi exclaimed. If it is a boy, you will name him Alexi. It is a strong and honorable name!” Kissing you on both cheeks.

“Oh God,” Yelena muttered under her breath. “For the love of Fanny, please don’t do that,” wrapping her arms around you. “I would love to babysit. I’m looking forward to passing on much to my niece or nephew.”

“Yeah, that’s not terrifying at all,” your wife mumbled in your ear. 

The shock was wearing off. Natasha reached down and gently placed her palm on your stomach. You weren’t showing yet, but just knowing that your child was growing inside you awakened a dream that she had put away in the Red Room long ago. 

*^~^*

Once her family left, Natasha insisted that she would handle the post-holiday clean-up, confining you to the couch with many pillows and a fluffy blanket. Foreshadowing what was to come for the duration of your pregnancy. 

“Sweetheart, those dishes go in the top right cupboard,” directing her from the couch.

“No worries, malyshka. I got it! You take it easy. The baby needs rest after all of this Thanksgiving cheer,” her protective instincts appear.

“The baby is the size of a plum, my love,”

“A very tired plum!” 

*^~^*

Thirty minutes later, the kitchen was clean, and you both were ready for a good night’s sleep. You would never admit it to your wife, but boy, were you tired. You donned your coziest pajamas and joined Natasha in bed. Snuggled into the covers, you found comfort and peace in your safe space. Nat rolled over to face you, your foreheads touching in a beautifully intimate gesture of love and affection. 

“This has been the best day of my life. Not only did you give my family an amazing Thanksgiving, you gave me a gift I’ll never forget. Though I have to admit now that I know you’re pregnant, I’m replaying the last week in my head in a loop of horrifying anxiety.” 

You giggled at her confession, “It’s alright, Nat. I’m ready for a nice long rest, and I just had a check-up with Helen last week.”

“Wait, does the team know?” 

“Dear God, no. You think that group can keep a secret?”

“We can tell them at Stark’s Christmas party in a couple of weeks if you’re comfortable with the idea.” 

“Perfect. I need time to prepare for the onslaught of attention from our little one’s aunts and uncles.”

Natasha reached over and grabbed your hand. “I love you, y/n. I can’t wait to welcome our little plum into the world,” she smiled.

“I love you too. You are going to be an amazing mother, sweetheart.”

“Happy Thanksgiving, y/n”

“Happy Thanksgiving, Natasha.”