warning : hurt/comfort, kiss, emotional, no use of Y/n
Summary : John already had many nightmares, but he never had such a realistic dream that scared the soldiers more than anything else. Realizing that he had almost hurt his love, a realization...but nothing new in the love between the two heroes, who both carried their shadows.
info : After a long time, something for John again. I've neglected him a bit, so now it's time to change that with something emotional. So I hope you enjoy reading :)
masterlist
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Their last mission as a team was a simple support mission for the military to get through an occupied city.
Something easier, something that somehow reminded them all of the old days, of the times before they were a team, before they protected the city as the Thunderbolts.
The feeling of sitting in a jeep, driving along the bumpy road, the excitement in your body as your fingers brush over your weapon and you're ready to give and receive orders.
They all had experience with the military, with combat units and troops, had orders and missions they carried out...only this time they were carrying out the mission because they wanted to, not because they had to.
Of course, it was a little different because they all flew to the city in jets, faster and safer when protecting the troops.
They may have wanted to be heroes, but the government would rather use their heroes as shields than suffer more casualties.
It was simple, they weren't facing monsters, creatures, mutants, or earth-devouring conquerors, they were humans with high-tech weapons, which weren't a real problem for the team.
Bucky, Alexei, and John struck immediately, clearing the way, while Ava sneaked in and took out the snipers while she and Yelena attacked from the shadows.
They were a well-coordinated team with defined roles and positions, even when Alexei rushed through the wall, followed by Bucky and John, Ava appeared behind one of them, and the metal shield flew through the hallway.
They all knew what they had to do.
Only when they had finished everything, when there was nothing left that could cause harm and the dust had settled, did they all slowly drop their cover and come back to the present.
They were no longer soldiers and mercenaries, they were friends again, a family returning to the jet to fly back. “That was good, no injuries and the groups got through” Bucky said, joy spread through the team, hearing optimism from the oldest, who was usually rather quiet was something nice.
Alexei gave his doctor a hug, which she allowed, and the others watched the interaction with fond looks, Ava apparently teasing John, who only made a dismissive gesture.
The three women sat down on one side and Alexei with John on the other as Bucky took the jet into the air and the team flew back. “We did well, even though I missed the missiles, thanks, Ava” he said to the dark-haired woman, giving her a grateful nod.
Ava had saved the other two by switching off the power and disconnecting them.
She may have been trained, military and government-like, but she didn't have the same instincts as Yelena, who had spotted the bullets right away, but everything had turned out fine in the end.
The super soldiers would have all their minor scratches and grazes healed within the next day, Ava could repair her suit a little, she and Yelena would just take a bath to relax their muscles.
It had been a good mission... but one glance at her love let her know that there was something in John's bright eyes.
When they were all together, discussing what they should do next, John was the quietest of them all, or rather, he was more snappy than usual when someone spoke to him.
It was one thing when he was grumpy in the morning and you teased him and he got a little snappy, but it was something else when even Bucky gave her a look that told her the soldier knew what was going on with John.
When the jet landed and they all got out, the vibranium arm briefly rested on hers, “Is he just unhappy with himself?” she asked the oldest.
If that was all it was, it would blow over, John would be better on the next mission, giving his best to prove himself.
Yet today it was something else, something deeper.
“Soldiers don't just come back like that when they're home every mission is just another” Barnes explained to her, and his slight shake of the head gave her heart a little twinge.
She felt sorry for him, for John, and for Alexei, all three of them were soldiers for their country, but they never seemed to have stopped fighting.
They had never stopped fighting, they had taken short breaks, but that was all. “Maybe it will pass, thank you” she replied, and the Winter Soldier went back inside the tower with the Agent to relax and take their minds off the mission.
But the hope she had that everything would be fine again in the next few hours, that John maybe just needed some time to himself, didn't seem to fade.
At dinner, he was quiet.
He thanked everyone for the compliments on the good food she had cooked for them, but while his smile was genuine, there was still something in his eyes.
Something she would describe as pain, as if the mission had taken him back to a time he had left behind.
After dinner, everyone spread out in the tower, and even though she was still playing a board game with Bob, Yelena, and Alexei while the others watched TV, John withdrew without a word.
No one was forced to participate in the group activities, but they had all realized that it was good for them to do something together, that it strengthened the bond between them.
As she rolled the dice, she sensed that the others also had questions about what was going on with John, and she could only shake her head.
I wish I knew she thought to herself as she moved her piece forward and tried to concentrate on the game again.
Everything took a little longer because Alexei really wanted to play another round and the others were placing bets on who would be able to recalibrate the jet next time if Alexei or Yelena won.
There was endless back and forth, singing in russian, a few curses, money being passed around, and laughter could be heard until the blonde finally scored a point and looked forward to watching her father helplessly try to get the jet to run.
After a bit of small talk, everyone finally turned to their beds, said goodbye, and went to their rooms...but she passed her's and went to John's instead.
He hadn't locked his door, a sign to her that despite everything, he was looking for someone, needed someone, because he had learned that he couldn't make it on his own.
She stepped inside cautiously and closed the door behind her, slipped out of her clothes, placed them on the pile on the floor, and slowly climbed into bed next to him in her underwear.
A look of relief appeared on her face when she saw John asleep.
He seemed calmer now, at least, less tense, as she lay down next to him and felt his hand rest on her side despite everything.
It was something he always did before he could really sleep peacefully, knowing that his love was by his side and that the two of them could finally sleep.
A sleep that, at least in the first few hours, was filled with peace and rest, the soft breathing of both filling the room, but inside John, his mind was raging.
The mission had brought back memories, the blood on his shield, the shouts and orders, it was different, the atmosphere was not like in the city before…he was back in Iraq with Lemar.
With his best friend, his partner, the one who had protected him, with whom he had fought his way through everything…the man he had seen lying lifeless against the crumbling wall.
It was his fault that he hadn't been there for his partner, not just as Captain America, but also as his friend. He should have been there for him.
The fear and terror that gripped him, that had a hold on the blond man as his body tried to wake him up, to bring him back to reality.
His sleeping partner next to him didn't notice anything yet as the rough hand on her side gripped her tighter, refusing to let go, fingers pressing into her skin and threatening to leave red marks as John made a sudden movement.
The almost painful sounds that left his lips finally led to her confused awakening when she only heard his sounds in the darkness.
Sleepiness replaced by worried alertness as she turned on the bedside lamp, “John, what's going on?” she asked, assuming he had left, dragged himself into the room or that something had happened to him.
When he grabbed her more tightly, his rough fingers threatening to crush her hand, she saw no blood and his closed eyes told her what he had.
A painful cry escaped her as the force threatened to break her hand when she tried to break free, saying his name and trying to wake him up between the blankets and pillows.
The shadows of the two of them on the wall struggled wildly not to sink into the sea of blankets as she braced herself against him, “Come to your senses, John!” she screamed at him, certain that he would break more than just her hand if she couldn't wake him up.
Yet she was no match for his strength and bulk.
In a last-ditch effort, she clenched her hand into a fist and hit him as hard as she could. The slight thud sent another wave of pain through her finger as John's eyes finally opened.
A heavy sigh of relief escaped her when she could finally look into John's blue eyes again.
Relief met confusion and fear when he realised how tightly he was holding her hand, how chaotic everything seemed and what he had almost done to her, “I – I'm sorry…a nightmare, I didn't mean to hurt you” he said slowly, Walker barely seemed to find his words as he realised it was just a nightmare.
John letting go of her hand almost convulsively, as far as the bed would allow, and moving away from her to put some distance between them, too big the fear that he would hurt his heart even more.
His words told her almost everything she needed to know.
A nightmare – she had had enough of those herself, with a gun in her hand, unable to save her colleagues during the attack on New York…two soldiers, both carrying shadows with them.
Caring, she moved a little closer to him and sat down next to him, Walker flinched when her hand fell on his, careful as if she could hurt him at any moment.
“You didn't hurt me, John, the scratches will heal. You didn't see me as the enemy, despite everything” she tried to take the blame away from him. To make him understand that it didn't change anything between them, that it was just a distant memory.
That she was there for him and he was there for her.
Every day, one of them was reminded of the missions, the nightmares tormented them and reminded them of all the pain they had suffered.
Words that made him shake his head, “Maybe not now…I-I wasn't there for Lemar. What if the blood of the others or your blood is on me” he opened up further and the fragility in his voice brought tears to her eyes.
She knew how much Lemar had meant to him, together they had visited his grave, and despite everything, worrying that his team and she too could die because of him was a suffocating thought.
She placed her hands on his trembling ones, trying to give him as much as she could as he slowly hid his head in the crook of her neck “I'm here, John, you won't lose us, not today and not in the future. You're my shield, John, my dear soldier” she whispered.
Blinking away her tears, knowing that he was crying, that tears were running down his cheeks as she kissed his head and trembling hands.
Knowing that he had to feel her, that John wanted to be reassured that he was no longer dreaming. That he could no longer hurt his love as he held onto her a little tighter.
But to feel that hold he had on her, how much she meant to him, that his outer shell of a soldier was broken, was one of the most intimate things he could give her.
Knowing how much he cared for her and loved her touched her just as, John gently wiped away her tears, taking care of her as best he could without the image of the blood on his fingers.
After a few minutes he found himself, gave her a soft kiss, to give her back her support as they simply lay in each other's arms that night.
John apologised gently, brushed away her tears, kept looking at her to make sure he did not hurt her, while she assured him that everything was fine.
They spent hours giving each the love and care they needed, before finally falling asleep in each other's arms in the early hours of the morning.
When John gets a chance to see his son, you assume more. Then a mission goes sideways and he rushes to get to you and confesses his feelings.
Mention of killing, explosions and sex
There was an awkward tension in the air, even if you never wanted it to be. Why the hell hadn’t John just taken the way out? Why did he have to push? Why did he have to confront you in front of Bucky? Why did he have to make you repeat the words out loud and why did he act like they were news to him?
You never should have let a line be crossed. The first time you felt yourself feeling anything for him you should have stopped it. You were a team, the thunderbolts, the new avengers whatever anyone wanted to call you. This was a new start, a new beginning. This was a way to try to turn a new page for all of you. This was a new hero chapter for Alexei, for Bucky to finally be seen as something other than Hydra’s weapon. For you and Yelena to be something other than killers. For Ava to be something other than a lab experiment gone wrong and even for John to be something other than a “junior varsity captain america”
For some ungodly reason you just couldn’t seem to help yourself when John set those blue eyes on you. Sometimes you would describe them as sky blue but really they were probably closer to ocean blue for the simple fact you drowned in them. You missed the days of indifference towards him. You’d never downright hated him. Yeah he was overly arrogant and the government should have never asked Sam to give up the shield then in turn hand it over to someone else. Even through all that you understood he was a product of a machine, nothing more.
You wished you hated him, wished you couldn’t stand him. Wish he was a pain in your ass, a hindrance that you simply had to deal with to remain on the same team. Anything would be better than the truth. The truth was that you still loved him. One action, one broken heart didn’t change that. No matter how badly you wished it did. Your eyes still trailed behind him when you would be in the kitchen, talking to someone and he’d come in looking for coffee or food.
You could still feel the heat of his gaze every time you looked away and he found an opening to look at you. You were angry, confused and in pain. You refused to leave. Yelena, Ava and Bob were your friends. Alexei for better or worse was becoming a father figure of sorts and you’d lose your mind without Bucky nearby. You knew you should probably talk to John, be an adult about it all but what was there left to say? “Oh, you didn’t want me like I wanted you and I’m heartbroken but hey we’re cool?” yeah that sounded really genuine.
You sat at the island in the kitchen. When Valentina remodeled the place, she’d luckily taken into account the super soldiers living there. The island top was a thick material and the barstools were cushioned but sturdy enough you, Yelena, Bob and Ava could all four probably sit on one and it not budge. Yelena sat next to you, picking at the eggs you’d cooked. You raised an eyebrow “They’re not that bad” she grinned “They’re not, just Walker puts bacon in his scrambled eggs” you rolled your eyes “Oh bite me Belova”
Bob smiled “I like your eggs better. They should be separate from the bacon” “Thank you Bob!” you laughed and Yelena shook her head “He’s sucking up because he knows you’ve been in a bad mood since you and Walker…” you heard footsteps, heavy footsteps and elbowed her in the side. She shoved a forkful of eggs into her mouth as John walked into the kitchen. “Morning”
You noticed he was already fully dressed in civilian clothes. Jeans, a dark blue henley and boots. He looked fucking delicious and that thought alone made you want to stab yourself in the carotid with your fork. “Where are you headed Walker?” Yelena asked, swallowing the eggs and stealing your orange juice in the process. His eyes flickered towards you before he said “I’m flying down to Georgia. I’ve got to meet with my lawyers and Olivia’s. I get to see my son today, figured I’d visit Lamar’s mother too”
Your eyes widened because no matter how hurt you were, that was big. “That’s good John. I’m happy for you” you whispered and saw the barest of smiles slip onto his face “Thank you” you nodded, holding his eyes for just a second before you sighed “Um I gotta go” you slid your plate to Bob “Want these?” he nodded “Sure” you grabbed your coffee and nodded to John “Have a safe flight. I hope everything goes well”
That was the most the two of you had spoken after the confrontation in the gym. You hadn’t even mentioned the whole you kneeing him in the crotch thing and neither had he. He was going to Georgia. He was getting to see his son, he would be seeing Olivia. That was good. That was a step in the right direction for what he needed to be happy. Why did it feel like your heart was getting ripped to shreds? You wanted him to see his son. God knows every child whose father wanted to be in their life and wanted to be a good man deserved that father. You would never take that away from EJ but John and Olivia finding their way back together was now no longer a what if. It was becoming a reality in front of you.
Your heart was beating so fast you were fairly certain all three super soldiers in the building could hear it and there was a chance Bob could also. When you made it to the elevator Alexei was getting off and you nearly ran over him. “Where are you going so fast malishka?” “Um, I just think breakfast didn’t sit too well with me” you mumbled and he nodded “Do you want me to get something for you?” you managed a smile “No, thank you but I’m good” and stumbled into the elevator.
If there was ever a good time for Valentina to roll in with a mission, now would be good. You really needed to get the hell out of the tower and not have to be in the public eye in a friendly capacity.
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John grabbed coffee and started out of the kitchen, at least he didn’t have to go to an airport. One of the perks of this was the jets. “Walker” Yelena called and he looked back “Yeah?” “I don’t know what happened but you need to try to fix it” he nodded slowly “I know Belova. I want to, I just don’t know how” then continued walking out.
He wanted nothing more than to fix things with you but how the hell did you fix something like saying the wrong name during such an intimate time? Especially the first time? That should have been something special, something marking your relationship turning serious. It should have ended with him waking up with you in his arms the next morning and confessing the fact that he was in love with you. It should not have ended like this.
The funniest thing was Olivia was waiting to bitch at him too and he knew it. She’d never even met you, not formally at least yet she liked you more than she liked him and she married him at one point. He shook his head and continued to the hangars. He’d be gone for a couple days. Maybe you’d cool off in the meantime? Hell he’d take another knee to the balls over you not speaking to him.
You weren’t sure how long you’d been in the gym. Your muscles were screaming for a break, sweat dripped off of you. You needed to get out of the damned tower but getting out and about in the city meant having your friendly face on. You couldn’t manage that right now. All you could think about was John. You missed him, you wanted him and he was practically still married if you looked closely enough at it.
“Fuck” you hit the bag again and felt your knuckles split under the tape. You stepped back from the bag shaking your hand out. Ok, maybe it was time for a much needed break. “You good?” you jumped when Bucky walked in behind you and glared at him “You do know you aren’t a damn assassin any more? You can make a little bit of noise now!”
He nodded towards your hand “Says the woman beating the shit out of a heavy bag to the point she’s bleeding through the tape?” you glanced down and saw red starting to seep through the white and cursed under your breath “Yeah so?” he shook his head “How the hell do I send you out even if Valentina pulls something in? Sam will kill me if I do, Joaquin will try to kidnap you to their team” you laughed under your breath “There’s an idea”
He raised an eyebrow “Talk to me, talk to Yelena..hell I’ll tie him up when he gets back and let you beat the hell out of him but get whatever this is out of your system. We need you. Ok?” you nodded “I’m fine Bucky. I promise”
You started to unwind the tape from your hands, wincing when it tugged your torn skin a little. “Is that why John accused you of fucking me?” you sighed “That is a long story” he crossed his arms “I got time” you turned to face him “I thought he wanted me, he didn’t. Ok? Wow guess it was a shorter story than I thought”
He shook his head “Go get cleaned up, we have a debriefing in half an hour” you perked up a bit at the mention of a mission “Really?” “Don’t get excited, it's a simple information extraction. Shouldn’t even be too dangerous” you rolled your eyes “Spoiled sport” and grabbed your water bottle to head out of the gym. “Clean your hand and bandage it good!” Bucky called after you so you laughed “Yes dad!”
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Since John was still gone to Georgia, the team consisted of you, Ava and Bucky. Yelena was staying back with Alexei and Bob just in case anything happened and an extraction was needed. She was good at diversions and you liked having her as a backup plan. Made you feel better going in.
You double checked your weapons, along with the set of widow’s bites Yelena had gotten commissioned for you because of how much you liked hers. They were new and you’d still not used them in combat but she’d given you a crash course in training. You laughed to yourself remembering John volunteering to help then immediately regretting it when he felt them.
You stood on the jet between Ava and Bucky as Bucky did a rundown of the base the three of you would be infiltrating. Three entrances so that meant splitting up. You would take the southern entrance, Bucky the north and Ava the one on the eastern side of the building. If nothing went wrong you should meet in the middle at the old research lab.
You hopped out, landing next to Bucky and grinned at him. He rolled his eyes and held up three fingers. You nodded and headed towards the southern entrance. Three minutes was the window. Three in, grab the information then three out. The whole thing should take under half an hour if Valentina had gotten the correct intel.
John was getting ready to head back to the hangar to meet the jet when his phone started ringing. “Go to mommy EJ” he passed his son over to Olivia then pulled his phone out of his pocket. A knot formed in his stomach when he saw Yelena’s name. Hell she hated talking to him at the tower. “Yelena?”
“They’re in trouble, Walker. We need you” he didn’t have to ask. “I’m about to go to the hangar. I’ll meet you there in five” “Make it two” Yelena hung up and he looked at Olivia who nodded “Go! We’re good. Help her”
He nodded and pressed a kiss to EJ’s head before running to the rental car. He was glad it was one Valentina’s people had booked. He would have gone for a truck or something more practical. This thing was some shiny sports car he’d had to fold himself into but it also meant he made a ten minute drive in right at two.
He barely threw the car into park as Yelena landed the jet, the ramp lowering just enough for him to get on board. “What happened?” he asked, snatching up the duffle bag that contained his suit and gear “The damn base was supposed to be virtually abandoned. There were three entrances so they split up with plans to meet in the middle at the lab. They got separated somehow. The whole thing should have taken under half an hour. They sent up the emergency code at the hour mark”
The jet was in the air and he was changed into his tactical suit by the time she got through explaining. He walked into the cockpit next to her, looking over the coordinates. “Who contacted last?” she looked up at him and his heart fell “We’ve had contact with Bucky and with Ava” the words she didn’t say is what broke him. There had been no contact with you in over an hour.
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Your com was smashed, you were stuck in a fucking tiny airvent with no way back to Bucky and Ava or no way to tell them just to go. This place was crawling with guards. Fucking Valentina. You were going to slap her hard enough that light streak in her hair would go brown.
You heard more talking just underneath you and froze, holding your breath. You understood a few different languages. German was not one however. Why german? Russian you’d get more.
After they moved you continued your way down, hoping to catch someone saying something about Bucky or Ava. You caught one word underneath you in french “Ghost” you froze. You watched as Ava phased behind a guy, stole his gun and shot two more men with it. You twisted your body and kicked the vent away. When you landed next to her she spun and you barely snatched your mask off before she shot.
“Say something the next time!” she warned and you shrugged “My com was trashed!” she shook her head “Come on” you and her ran down a long hallway. “Where’s Bucky?” you asked and she waved a hand “Clearing the damned lab. Yelena is on the way for evac so he’s trying to secure the information and set charges to put this place under”
“And if Yelena doesn’t make it before the charges go off?” you asked and she grimaced “Let’s just hope she does?” Another barrage of gunfire rained down on the two of you so you ducked behind a wall, going low to return fire “Did I ever tell you how reassuring your presence is Ava?” you laughed and she nodded “All the time lovely”
Once those guards fell back you and her pushed forward. You took a deep breath and looked at her “Go back for Bucky. I’ll hold the exit as long as I can. Come back the way you came when you found me. Ok?” “And if you’re surrounded while we’re gone?” she asked and you shrugged “I’ll see how many I can take down with me?” she shook her head “Your humor sucks” and pulled her mask down. Once she disappeared you rotated your neck in a tight circle, ready for the next wave of guards.
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“She’s not over the damn thing” Yelena growled into her com and looked at John. He’d heard it too but couldn’t get his mouth to move to say anything. Ava had found you and separated from you again. You were ok when she left you but there were guards flowing through the building in waves, Bucky was setting charges and you’d told them in no uncertain terms if they couldn’t get you out in enough time to save themselves and to not worry about you.
“What exit?” he breathed, voice deadly low. “Eastern” Ava replied and he nodded, already jumping out of the jet before it landed completely. “Walker!” Yelena hissed into the com. He hit it “Get to Ava and Bucky. Help them out. I’ve got her”
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“You’re completely fucked” you whispered to yourself, ducking back behind the wall and checking your ammo. Yup, it was out. The guns you’d snatched from the dead guards were out. You couldn’t get close enough to use the bites, same situation with your knives. They were armed to the teeth and it felt like every time you killed three, five more popped up.
At this point you were ready for the place to blow. You’d rather die knowing it was by a charge Bucky sat over by this scum shooting you or worse. You heard the door at the end of the hall open along with another doorway that signaled more guards coming. “FUCK” you whispered, trying to find someplace to take cover or some defensive weapon. You were a sitting fucking duck and the god damn airvents were screwed shut so that wasn’t even a way out.
You weren’t sure which threat to face, whoever was coming in or whoever was coming down the hall. You heard the telltale sign of the guards loading their weapons and braced yourself.
Everything happened fast. The guards appeared, then before they could lift their guns the first three fell. It took your brain a moment to process what happened. A shield knocked them flat on their asses. You spun around about the time John caught the shield with one hand and grabbed you with the other. He pulled you against his chest, covering you completely. “Gun on my right” he growled, firing back at the guards.
You snatched the extra gun out of his holster and ducked from behind the shield to help take out the remaining guards. The silence in the hall was deafening when the gunfire was over. Only then did you realize you were still tucked firmly against John’s chest. “How the hell did you get here so fast?” you panted but before he could answer he hit his com and his eyes got big “Shit, copy that”
He didn’t even tell you to run, he just picked you up and ran out of the building. He got far enough away and went down, covering you with his body and the shield. You felt the entire ground underneath you rumble with the force of the explosion. John slowly moved off of you and offered you a hand up. You looked back to see the smoldering remains of what once was the base “Glad I got out” you muttered. “Yeah, glad you got out too” John replied, still holding your hand.
You cleared your throat then tapped your ear “Is everyone clear?” he hesitantly pulled his hand out of yours and hit his com “All clear?” he waited a beat and times like this you despised your com getting trashed. “Yeah, they all made it” he told you after a moment and you smiled “Good”
You scanned the perimeter, eyes landing on Ava’s form and you finally let out a breath. “There they are” he nodded “Let’s get to evac” you fell in step with him. It didn’t occur to you until you were walking onto the jet that he shouldn’t have even been back at the tower yet.
When you sat down next to John he looked surprised. You had to get past him, to continue working with him and he did just save your life, twice. “So, how did you get here so damn fast? You were still in Georgia?” you whispered. He shrugged, “Yelena called. You…I mean all of you needed help”
“Olivia didn’t mind you having to leave a little early?” you asked and honestly didn’t mean it maliciously, you were just curious. If he was finally getting a toe back in the door how would she react if the first visit he had to dip because your com got trashed and communication was zero. He turned to look at you, one of his hands falling to the seat between your leg and his. If he barely stretched his hand your fingers would touch. “She told me to go, to help you”
God, make you feel like even worse trash. Not only were you in love with another woman’s husband but that woman was genuinely good. “She’s a good woman John” he nodded “She is, she’s an amazing mother to EJ and we’re slowly becoming friends again” you gave his hand a featherlight squeeze “I’m glad John, honestly. No matter what, I want you to be happy. You deserve it, so does she and EJ deserves the world”
“Can we talk?” he asked quietly, holding your hand a second longer but loosening his grip the moment you barely tugged your fingers away. “I don’t think that’s a good idea” you whispered, turning to face the wall of the jet.
“I love you” his voice was so low, so light you thought you’d imagined it at first but one look at his face told you he’d actually said those three words. “What?” you knew you sounded as dumbfounded as you felt.
You sat there staring at each other, neither of you speaking. The heaviness of what he’d just said felt like it was choking you. “I said I love you. Nothing could have kept me from coming to you. Olivia would’ve had to understand that” you shook your head, tears stinging your eyes “John, please. You’re feeling guilty. Adrenaline is very high right now. Don’t say things you don’t mean, ok?”
You shifted to move across the way so you could go sit next to Ava who appeared to be asleep and god you hoped she was so she hadn’t heard any of this conversation. “I do feel guilty, adrenaline is high but baby that doesn’t change a damn thing about the fact that I’m in love with you” he whispered and you shook your head, tears stinging one of the cuts on your face “Please shut up”
He reached for your hand but you froze so he did too. “Is me loving you that bad?” he asked and you shrugged “You can’t have your cake and eat it too John. You may think you love me, you may be attracted to me but look what happened when you tried”
“Darlin..” he started and you cut him off, standing up abruptly even if you knew Bucky would yell at you if he looked back “We are not doing this right now. We should be in good moods. You saw your son! That is awesome! You got here to help save the day! Awesome. Take the win Walker!”
You held onto the side of the jet so you could walk down and sink into the seat next to Ava.
When all of you got back to the tower you were glad to be closest to the ramp that meant as soon as Yelena lowered it you were able to get off the jet. You had a first aid kit in your room so you could clean up your face. “Everyone good?” Alexei asked, considering he’d come to meet everyone in the hangar. You smiled at him “Everyone alive and in one piece”
“Fantastic” he replied and you couldn’t help but laugh lightly. You nodded to him and headed inside. You needed to get to your room. You could strip off your tact suit, shower and clean any wounds.
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John considered leaving you alone but no. He needed to talk to you. He was tired of you running away from him. If he lost you for good, it wouldn’t be because he didn’t try. Hell you tucked against his chest while the two of you were getting shot at then again as a cover from an explosion was the closest you’d been longer than he’d care to think about. He missed you, so damn much.
He figured he’d head to his room, shower and change then go catch you. Give you enough time to get showered so he wouldn’t interrupt that process.
He needed to talk to you, try to explain himself. At the very least he needed to get it through your head that you were perfect. He was just a fuck up. That was the lowest of goals.
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You were laid backwards across your bed, staring up at the ceiling. Your face itched where you’d had to apply the liquid bandaid. Bob and Yelena had already tried to lure you out with food but you weren’t really hungry. You’d taken the smoothie and bottle of water at least.
A knock at your door made you groan. You rolled off the bed, socked feet hitting the floor. An amused sound escaped you, big bad former shield asset and you were wearing pink fuzzy socks.
You walked over to the door and when you opened it, nearly closed it back. John stood on the other side. He was wearing a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. God help why did that man have to look so good in anything. “Hey” you greeted and he half smiled “Hey, how’s your face?”
You shrugged “Fine, just enough for liquid bandaid. Really just did it so Yelena would quit bitching at me” “She just cares” he reminded you and you nodded “I know, it’s a nice change”
A hard silence fell and that hurt worse than damn near anything. For so long you and John had this comfort level with each other that was now gone. “Did you need something?” you asked and he laughed humorlessly “Besides you?” you shook your head, feeling your face warm “Not on the menu”
“I’m not still in love with Olivia” he offered and you nodded, crossing your arms as a glare took over your features “Then why did you say her name when you were buried inside of me John? Do you know how that felt?”
“I can’t imagine how bad I hurt you sweetheart and I know my word only means so much but I was not thinking about Olivia. Earlier that day, I’d had a conference call with her and the lawyers. We’d talked about the possibility of you meeting EJ. I was excited to talk to you about it. I hadn’t been with anyone but her since I was nineteen years old. Maybe a combination of those things? I don’t know. Honey, I’ll be the first to tell you I may test high in intelligence but I am a dumbass at times”
A surprised laugh escaped you at his words “Don’t call yourself a dumbass John” the words were a reflex but you meant them nonetheless. A small smile slipped onto his face at your scolding him. “I love you. I should have told you before we had sex. I should have made it clear how I felt. I never should have let there be any doubt. I should have had better control over myself to know what the hell was coming out of my mouth. The only thing I was thinking about was how amazing you felt under me, how much I loved you, how much I hoped I wasn’t hurting you, how much I hoped I was making you feel good. I don’t know why I said Liv. I can never make that up to you but baby don’t doubt how amazing you are or how much I want you. There’s no one I want more”
You shook your head, swallowing hard “What about Olivia?” he shrugged “We’re trying to be friends again. We once meant a lot to each other and EJ needs us to get along. She’s dating, she knows how I feel about you. Hell she’s bitched at me the whole time I was in Georgia about however I hurt you” you raised an eyebrow “What?”
He nodded “I can give you my phone and let you call her. Hell she wants to meet you. She wants you to be able to meet EJ one day. We’re the past. Me and her both know that. You don’t have to take me back. I just need you to know that I love you, I really do” you swallowed hard “I need time to think John. It’s been a lot”
“I understand. That’s ok. If you want to talk, you know where I am” he offered and you nodded “Ok. Goodnight” he gave you a small smile “Goodnight”
you know a joke that never EVER gets old is when a character says smth like “I will NOT go to [place] and that is FINAL” and then it cuts to them in that place I eat that shit up every single time
After avoiding it for days you're left with no choice but telling John why you left him
Mention of sex, little bit of violence
You sat on the floor in your shower, the water beating down on you was cold by that point. You’d scrubbed your body raw, trying to get any evidence of John off of you. You didn't want to smell like him, didn’t want any marks left from his fingers or tongue or teeth. You would mark yourself first, your own nails clawing into your skin to cover his fingertip shaped bruises left behind on your hips. Had any other outcome happened you would be laying across him, tracing the bruises and laughing about them. You loved him, fuck you loved him. You were in love with him and he was thinking about his wife while he was buried inside of you.
You felt dirty, like a cheap whore. You felt like the other woman almost. Why couldn’t he just have been honest with you? He was an attractive man. Truthfully you would have slept with him weeks ago and just gotten it out of your system. That way no feelings would have gotten involved. Had you been face down in the mattress and he just fucking into you for a release for you both this wouldn’t have hurt. Had you know this was just a fuck, it wouldn’t have hurt. He didn’t have to date you, spend time with you, make you fall for him. He didn’t have to hold you close and whisper sweet nothings.
He could have just said “I find you attractive, I think you find me attractive. Can we fuck?” that way you wouldn’t feel like this. The dishonesty was what ripped you in two.
You finally ripped yourself off the floor. You needed to get dressed. You needed some sleep. You were sore, sore from him, sore from the shower, sore from just everything.
You towel dried off and slipped clothes on before padding across the floor to your bed. You laid down then a scent of his cologne from earlier in the night hit your nose. You tore your blankets, sheets and all off the bed and pushed them into the laundry chute. You’d rather sleep on a bare mattress until you could get fresh sheets in the morning. You walked into your closet and found a hoodie Alexei had given you. It was big on him so it fell past your knees. It would work if you got cold. You slipped it on and curled up in the middle of the bed. You just needed a few hours of sleep then you could deal with your broken heart head on.
John woke up and absentmindedly reached for you before remembering the night before. The two of you had spent more than one night sleeping in the same bed but last night was the first time that happened. The way you’d felt under him, how you sounded.. It was damn near perfect until whatever happened happened. He wasn’t sure what he’d done. He knew that the so-called meeting with Valentina’s people was bullshit. He’d done something to you but he wasn’t sure what.
Did he hurt you? Christ, if he hurt you with his strength he’d never forgive himself. Especially if you felt like you had to hide it from him. He sat up, running a hand down his face. The slight scent of your shampoo from his pillows hit his nose and he smiled as he grabbed his phone, hoping you had texted him. There was nothing there. He sighed and laid it back down. He learned his lesson about trying to toss his phone down after the third broken one.
He didn’t want to crowd you but last night was supposed to be special wasn’t it? That was the first time you two had sex, the first time he’d had sex with anyone outside of Olivia since he was nineteen years old. What if he wasn’t any good? What if you were trying to spare his feelings? Fuck now that was an entirely new worry on top of him hurting you. What if he was a grown ass man that had no fucking clue what he was doing with a different woman and he ended up not only not pleasing you but hurting you as well?
Fuck it, he’d go to the gym and take out some frustrations there. Maybe you’d find him like you said you would. That was all he could do for now, right?
You were in the gym with Yelena and Ava. You and Yelena were both working on speed with Ava phasing in and out while the two of you worked to block her and see if either of you could actually land a punch.
When you approached both of them about training with you this morning you knew you probably looked like shit. You felt like shit but you didn’t want to talk, you wanted to train. You wanted to sweat and to not think about anything but where the next hit was coming from.
You grunted when Ava caught you in the stomach and you rolled up, your back hitting the mat. You twisted when she phased back in and caught her in the lower back, flipping her. Her back hit the mat and she laughed lightly “Good reversal” you nodded “Thanks” Yelena winked at you “Come on now, my turn”
You stood to face Yelena, both of you gave a small nod then started circling each other. You both had similar hand to hand fighting styles. Shield training and Hydra training meeting up in the middle. Both rejects of your programming and just fighting to do better.
You and her went back and forth. You’d land a blow then she’d land one. It was a dance and an enjoyable one on days like this. She didn’t give you any room to think. She knew you well enough to know when to stay on your ass. “Don’t hesitate!” she urged, kicking you in the back and making your face hit the mat. Bob grimaced where he was watching “Yelena..” you knew he was going to tell her to ease up, he didn’t like seeing you two go hard on each other (Yet loved seeing Bucky and John beat the shit out of each other)
“I’m good Bob” you assured him with a wink as Yelena helped you to your feet. She nodded “She knows her limits” She passed you a water bottle and your towel “Want to talk about this mood?” you shook your head “Want to take Bob and Ava and go shopping instead?” she shrugged “Sounds good to me”
Ava phased behind you “Shopping?” you laughed “With our shiny cards Valentina gave us. All we have to do is be polite in public and smile for photo ops” Ava scrunched up her nose in disgust “Fair enough. Twenty minutes to shower and change?” you nodded “Good with me”
The four of you started for the door but it opened before you got there. John walked in and you had to remind yourself to not freeze on the spot. Your eyes locked with his, a small smile slipping onto his face “Morning” he greeted. “Morning” Bob replied, him and Yelena pushing past John to get out first.
“Morning Walker” Ava greeted as she walked out. You walked behind Ava. His hand shot out to grab yours “Morning?” you nodded “Morning” and gently pulled your hand out of his grasp. It felt like your skin was on fire everywhere he’d touched. A day ago it would have been the most pleasant of sensations, now? You wanted to rip the flesh away.
He looked towards the door and once he was halfway sure everyone was gone he looked back at you “How’d the meeting go?” “Meeting?” you asked then it hit you “Oh yeah, meeting. It went fine. I gotta go. We’re going shopping. I need new blankets and stuff”
He raised an eyebrow “Yours was fine last night? What about your backup sets?” you shrugged “I asked laundry to toss them all. I need a fresh start on it” he took a step closer but when you stiffened he froze to the spot “Baby, did I hurt you or something?” there was a cop out for you. You could blame this on physical pain and pull away from him. You could say he’d bruised you, been too rough. Something to put more blame on him, to inflict some pain on him.
God help you couldn’t. “Nope, I’m fine” you whispered, eyes looking everywhere but at him. “Is that why you won’t look at me?” he asked. You slowly raised your eyes to his, hoping he wouldn’t clock the tears brewing in yours “See? Fine. Can I go now?” he nodded slowly “Of course. Sorry”
You walked out of the gym, the moment you hit the hallway your feet started moving faster. You told yourself it was to catch up with Bob and Yelena but you knew you were running away from John.
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John could hear your footfalls. He knew you were quite literally running away from him. If he didn’t hurt you then why were you pulling away from him like you were? He thought he’d been doing good with you, thought he’d been better, a better man.
He punched one of the heavy bags and didn’t pay attention to which one it was. It was unfortunately not a reinforced one and it flew across the room, smashing against a wall. Great, now he had to explain that to Bucky and Valentina. “Fuck” he grunted under his breath. He was losing you now. Just par for the course with his track record.
“Fuck fuck fuck” you groaned under your breath. It was that damn website that ran the article about you and John. One of its people had gotten a report that the four of you were out and about. You grabbed Yelena “Get Bob back to the tower” “What about those assholes” she asked and you shrugged “I’ve got it”
Ava grinned “I’m watching her work” you laughed “Well come on Starr” she fell in next to you while Yelena took Bob the opposite way. You heard your name called along with “Miss STARR”
You both turned and saw Yelena give a thumbs up as she made it out the door. Just keep their eyes on you long enough to get Bob out of dodge. That was it. “Yes?” you greeted and the perky redhead shoved a tiny mic in your face “Is it true that you and John Walker are an item?” you felt Ava shift at your side and cut your eyes at her to see she was watching you carefully. You sighed, time to put on a show and act like your heart wasn’t in shambles.
“John Walker?” you laughed and she nodded “Yes, we’ve gotten multiple reports and photos of you two getting close and of course that one audio of him saying are you ok peaches when you got injured” you rolled your eyes “Christ, the man has called Alexei peaches! He’s from Georgia for Christ's sake. As for us being an item? I’d sooner be with Miss Starr here. She’s a lot more emotionally stable” Ava and the redhead laughed.
“Well Miss Starr, any comment?” Ava grinned, slipping an arm around your waist “Not really” the redhead laughed “Anything you’d like to add about any rumors floating around? Squash them once and for all?” you rolled your bottom lip between your teeth. John would more than likely get this routed to him, more than likely see it but maybe Olivia would too. If he was no longer living in the tower or at least not available maybe it would hurt less?
“John is still very much in love with his ex-wife Olivia. He is staying single in hopes of one day reconciling. I for one support them and wish them the best. That’s all I will say on my team mates relationships well that and Alexei is single and looking!” The redhead and Ava both started laughing again. The redhead looked at her cameraman “You heard it here folks. The supposed new relationship is indeed fake news. John Walker is staying a single man and Mr Shostakov is looking”
She thanked you and Ava for your time then walked away. Ava looked back at you with a raised eyebrow “I thought you and John were..” “Nothing, we’re nothing. Let’s go make sure Yelena and Bob made it back”
John heard Alexei laughing from the kitchen. “This is good, she is very pretty on camera. Takes charge. Good hero face” “What are you going on about?” he asked as he walked in to see that Alexei and Bucky had an interview of you up. Yelena was standing in front of them, holding cucumber as Bob fed him.
“Our girl is a natural on camera” Yelena laughed as she hit play. The clothes you were wearing. This was from today. “Where is she?” he asked and Yelena grinned “This is live, she played distraction for us to get out”
He walked over behind them and smiled when he saw your face and that Ava had her arm around you. His heart fell however when you were asked “Anything you’d like to add about any rumors floating around? Squash them once and for all?” he saw the way you rolled your bottom lip between your teeth. You were overthinking about something. Tell them baby. He thought to himself. Desperate to hear you claim him.
You shifted on your feet and he felt like you were looking straight at him when you said “John is still very much in love with his ex-wife Olivia. He is staying single in hopes of one day reconciling. I for one support them and wish them the best. That’s all I will say on my team mates relationships well that and Alexei is single and looking!”
He was single? That was news to him. He very much thought he was taken. He was also very much not still in love with Olivia. What the hell was going on. Did you just decide to dump him on a fucking gossip site? He was in love with you. He loved you, he was with you just the night before and now he was single?
Alexei’s laughter boomed through the kitchen, nearly drowning out the redhead as she said “You heard it here folks. The supposed new relationship is indeed fake news. John Walker is staying a single man and Mr Shostakov is looking”
“She’s good, yeah?” Alexei asked him with a broad grin. He managed a weak smile “The best” and walked out of the room. You didn’t want him. That explained how you’d been acting, how fast you wanted him off of you, how fast you left his room. You didn’t want him.
“We’re back” he heard about ten minutes later. You and Ava came walking in, carrying arm loads of bags. He started to move to help you but you shook your head “I got it, thanks” he nodded and motioned to the elevator “I’m going to my floor” “Ok” he heard Alexei talking about your interview as he stepped onto the elevator. At least now it was clear what happened.
Yelena told you John saw the interview. At least now he knew you knew. You could now try to mend your heart and manage to stay on the same team and in the same place. Maybe if Olivia saw it she would reach out? Who knew, some women liked that.
You were in the kitchen, picking through the kitchen in an attempt to find breakfast. “Find what you looking for doll?” you jumped when Bucky walked in behind you. You spun around and laughed “Jesus, it’s not fair how fucking quiet we all move!”
He grinned “Well you’ve gotten me twice in the last week. I owed you” you shrugged “Fair enough. Want a croissant?” he shrugged “Sure”
You started coffee and tossed your croissants in to warm up as you sat across from Bucky at the island. “So, are we gonna talk about it?” he asked once you slid his coffee and plate to him. “About what?” you questioned and he nodded “So not talking about you and Walker” you stared down into your coffee “You were right. He was with her for many years. That just doesn’t go away. I was a fucking idiot, now I see it”
“Did something happen?” you knew that tone of voice from Bucky. One word and John was dead. “No, nothing happened. Just came to my senses is all” he nodded slowly “Can you two still work and live together?”
You raised your eyes to his, forcing a smile “Of course” he nodded “Ok, wanna train with me today? We’re do to spar” you grinned “Sounds good to me”
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John woke up and laid there, staring at the ceiling. For the second time he’d fallen in love with a gorgeous woman, an amazing woman. For the second time that woman didn’t want him. The passing him back to the first woman who didn’t want him was a nice touch though. Really make him look pathetic.
He wasn’t mad at you, he couldn’t blame you. He was mad that he couldn’t be better, be what you needed. He pushed himself out of bed. There were voicemails from the lawyers. Visitation with his son would be starting soon. He’d hoped in a few months time to work up to you meeting him. He wanted you to meet him. He’d talked to Olivia, she’d seemed ok with the idea when they talked through the conference call last week. Maybe it was because of the lawyers or just how much Valentina sent her a month. He was trying, so damn hard.
He picked up his phone and saw he had a text from Olivia of all people. He clicked it and grimaced when it read What did you do to her? He wished he had an answer for that. He’d been honest with her, told her he was in love with you. Hadn’t wanted her sidelined by any news outlets. She was ok with it, she was dating. They’d come to an agreement on how long they had to be with a person before their son could meet that person. John got to run backgrounds on any of her dates (that was her idea not his)
I don’t know he replied and after a moment she texted back Fix it. You’ve been a better man since meeting her. I like this John again. You need her he laughed more to himself than anything Believe me, I know
He laid the phone down and went to get dressed so he could hit the gym then grab some food. Maybe since a few days had passed you would talk to him now? Before a mission popped up? The idea of you dodging bullets, angry at him…god if something happened to you.
You laughed when your back hit the mat and Bucky all but pouted “I feel like you’re making fun of me doll” you grinned up at him “I feel like you’re treating me like a damn china doll. I won’t break Barnes”
He held out a hand and pulled you to your feet. You held onto that hand then flipped up, hooking your legs around his neck and flipped him across the room. He landed with a grunt. You rolled to your feet and grinned at him, shifting your weight from hip to hip “Come on Bucky. Fight me!”
He nodded “Alright, but if I hurt you..” you rolled your eyes “Jesus, I’ll yell pineapple” he busted out laughing because you, Yelena and Ava teased the super soldiers by making a safe word for the gym. Whether they liked it or not Pineapple was they were going too hard and needed to back off. “Good girl” he cooed as he grabbed you.
_______________________
John could hear the sounds of training before he made it to the door. Made sense someone else would already be up. He hadn’t expected however to walk in to Bucky straddling you. The anger that rolled through him at that. It took every ounce of self control he ever had to not hit Bucky.
“What the fuck is going on?” you shifted your hips to look out from under Bucky and your eyes widened slightly “Training?” you brought your head up and caught Bucky in the face and when his eyes teared up you flipped your positions pinning him instead. You grinned down at Bucky “Told ya I’d get ya” he rolled his eyes “Wouldn’t have if Walker hadn’t have interrupted”
John scoffed and your eyes flew to him “What?” he waved a hand towards you, considering you were quite literally still sitting in Bucky’s lap, your hands holding his arms down despite John knowing for a fact Bucky could have gotten up easily. “Now I know why you didn’t want me I guess”
“Excuse me?” you jumped off Bucky so fast you rolled the man to the side in the process. John stayed in place, anger roaring to life in him. You traded him for a different super soldier he guessed. “You heard me peaches. If you didn’t want me, you could’ve told me face to face. Not on a damn gossip site so you could start fucking Barnes”
“WOAH” Bucky called and you spun pointing a finger at Bucky “Don’t. I can take care of myself” Bucky threw his hands up and you spun back around towards John “You are the world’s biggest fucking idiot” he laughed “I know, I didn’t see this going on”
A sound that was something between a gasp and groan left you. You drew back and open handed slapped him. He could taste his teeth cut into his cheek slightly. Damn that was a hard slap. You shoved his chest, walking forward and despite himself he gave ground. He moved back until his back hit the wall behind you “You’re a stupid bastard because you’re acting like I did something wrong!”
“Tell me what I did then!” He was trying to keep his voice low. He knew you hated raised voices. You looked over at Bucky “Leave” “Are you sure?” Bucky asked and John nearly growled “God dammit she’s safe with me regardless Bucky”
Bucky walked out and that was when John noticed the shake in your hands, the tears in your eyes. What had he done? “You want to know?” you whispered and he nodded, hands going to your hips but you brought your knee up and he barely caught it before it connected with his groin.
“I fell in love with you John. I’m in love with you” he nodded, letting your leg go and trying to ignore how hard his heart flipped at hearing you say you loved him. “Then why tell the world I’m still in love with Olivia and staying single for her?” he asked. You swallowed hard, tears escaping your eyes “Because the first time we had sex, the first time I allowed myself to have you, to trust you completely. You were buried inside of me and you know what you said when you came?”
He tried to wrack his brain to think but all he could remember was how amazing you felt, the emotions flowing through him at having you in his arms. “I don’t know” he admitted. You nodded, sniffling back tears, a wet laugh escaping you. You stepped closer, lips nearly touching his as you whispered “Fuck, feels so good Liv”
He froze, the words chasing themselves through his mind. No no no no no. He didn’t. He wasn’t thinking about her. He really wasn’t. He was thinking about you. He was in in love with you. He was just thinking earlier that day about telling you about visitation that mixed with the fact that he hadn’t been with anyone but her in so many years. It had to be that. He’d never… “Baby..” he tried but you used the momentary distraction to bring up your other knee and this time it hit its target. A strangled groan left him. You patted his shoulder “Just know I was actually thinking about you John” then walked out of the gym.
John allowed himself the luxury of sliding down the wall after you were out of the gym. He sat down, clutching his body. What the fuck had he done? Was there even a chance of fixing this? He couldn't imagine the pain he caused you. If roles were reversed and you'd said Bucky's name? God. His head fell back against the wall with a heavy thud. "Fuck" he grunted. He loved you, so damn much and now he'd fucking lost you because he couldn't control his mouth. He wanted you, only you but knew there was no way for you to ever believe that now.
When the wrong name is said in a moment of passion is it what it seems?
Warnings: Sex, wrong name being said during sex
“New love for two of the team or a rebound and a broken heart?” was an article you happened to see while trying to read a Nasa clip Joaquin had emailed you. You never meant for your relationship with John to make it out of the tower. It was still so damn new. You and him had started seeing each other a few months before. He was really a sweetheart underneath everything. The worst part? Your team said the same things when they thought you weren’t listening.
“What do we do if he’s just using her to try to get Olivia back?” Yelena asked Ava. Neither of them knew you were in the hallway, just shy of their view. You held a hand over your mouth so neither of them would hear you. “We will be there for her. No matter what. They’re both grown” was Ava’s response.
Then you’d overheard Bucky on the phone with Sam. “This is the worst decision she’s ever made. He was with her for how many years? That doesn’t go away” you felt your heart twist. Maybe they were right? Maybe you should just break things off with John before it went any deeper, while you could still be on the same team? The truth was though you were already in love with him. You were just a fucking idiot that let your heart land where it may.
You were curled up on your bed, flipping through a notebook you shared with Yelena and Ava. The three of you used it for days when you didn’t necessarily want to talk but needed to communicate but wasn’t on a mission so this was the means you used. You laughed lightly looking at a sketch of cucumber, Yelena’s guinea pig that Bob had done on the corner of one of the pages.
When there was a heavy handed yet soft knock at your door you knew who it was. “Yeah John?” you called out and the door opened, he peeked his head in. His blonde locks were falling into his face a little, he pushed them back and offered you a smile. He was dressed in just jeans and a t-shirt. None of you had been forced to leave the tower for a couple days so no one was really dressed outside for comfort.
“Hey sweetheart. You want to go grab dinner or something?” you shook your head “No thanks” his smile fell slightly “Did I do something?” you shifted to sit up, sliding the notebook into your side drawer “No, I just… I don’t feel like the public eye right now” he let out a breath “Oh, ok. Good. I mean…I thought I did something to you, to upset you” “No” you assured him with a smile, half expecting him to leave but he hovered, just inside the door.
“Was there something else?” you asked, feeling your skin itch with the urge to touch him, to have him touch you but you knew if you didn’t pull away first he would never. “I miss you darlin” he admitted and you laughed lightly “I’m right here John” he nodded “I’ll call for takeout. Want your usual?” you nodded “Yeah, that’s fine”
While John was gone to meet the delivery person you took a shower. You were just towel drying your hair when he knocked again. You walked out the bathroom and across your room to open the door. He held up the takeout bag “Here honey” you smiled “You don’t want to eat with me?” he shrugged “I don’t want to crowd you” and you felt your heart twist. God why did he have to be so fucking sweet when it was just the two of you? Why couldn’t he be the arrogant asshole? Why did he have to look like a six foot two kicked puppy?
“Come on John” you pushed the door open a little further and he looked like you’d offered him a million dollars. You rolled your eyes and bumped your shoulder against his “Shoes off Walker and do not spill anything on my bed!” he grinned “Yes ma’am”
You’d just meant to eat with him. You hadn’t meant to eat with him then for him to ask if you wanted to watch a movie and that would result in you going back to his room with him.
John was laid back on the headboard and you were laying back against him. He had his arms around you as the two of you watched whatever old western he clicked on. You were attempting to fight the urge to pick at him about it. When you tilted your head back however he was already looking at you instead of the screen “What?” you whispered quietly and he shook his head “You’re just really damn beautiful”
You felt your heart flip at his words. Moments like this you wanted to believe him, wanted him to want you as much as you wanted him. You smiled “If I’m so beautiful then kiss me” a smirk slipped onto his face “Yes ma’am” one of his hands came up to hold the back of your head, holding you in place as his lips crashed against yours. When his other hand slipped down and squeezed your thigh just hard enough to pull a gasp out of you he used that moment to roll his tongue into your mouth. You whined lightly against him and his grip tightened just a little.
You broke away from his mouth, chest heaving “I um..damn” you whispered. You and John had done a lot but hadn’t quite crossed the line into penetrative sex yet. He had his reasons, he didn’t want to hurt you. You were nervous. This felt different.
“We don’t have to do anything more” he promised, eyes resting on your lips. You wanted him so damn bad. “Do you want me John?” you asked and he nodded, “More than damn near anything I can think of sweetheart” you smiled “Are you sure?” “Yes” he replied so you nodded, turning to slip your legs over his lap, straddling him. He watched you with wide eyes. “I’m trusting you here John. Please don’t hurt me”
“I promise you, I’ll make you feel good” he swore, pulling you down into a kiss that made your entire body feel like a live wire was run across it. How in the hell he could make you feel more with a kiss than some men had made you feel with their entire bodies was beyond you. “Quit teasing Walker” you breathed into the kiss and he swatted your ass lightly “Be nice baby. I’m gonna take care of you. I promise”
His hands slipped under your shirt, pulling it up and over your head. “So beautiful” he whispered, leaning forward to trail open mouthed kisses along your throat. Your head fell back, a moan escaping you. “Feels good” you breathed and felt him shift under you. You tugged at his shirt and he smiled “You want it off baby?” “Please” you pleaded so he leaned up far enough to tug the shirt off and tossed it. Once his chest was bare to you, you allowed yourself the opportunity to admire the skin now exposed to you, nails lightly scratching the patch of strawberry blonde hair on his chest. You caught his lips in a kiss, rolling your hips against his and his head fell back then “Damn sweetheart” you laughed “Enjoying yourself?”
He looked up at you, blue eyes shining brightly even in the dimmed lights of his room “I have the most gorgeous woman in my lap, yeah I’m enjoying myself” you rolled your eyes “Quit flirting. You’ve got me” he laughed, pulling you to his chest “Never” and flipped the two of you so your back was to the bed “Now, let’s see how many times I can make you cum before I ever take my damn jeans off” you grinned “Lets see what you’ve got”
Never challenge a super soldier’s stamina. Your legs were quivering around John’s head. He’d made you see stars so damn many times with just his fingers and tongue. You’d discovered he loved getting praised and if you pulled his hair it unleashed an entirely different side of him.
“John, please baby” you whimpered and he lifted his head, pressing a lingering kiss to your clit as he held your gaze “What do you need darlin?” you tried twice before getting enough air into your lungs “Need you, god I need you inside me” he smirked, pressing kisses against your thighs “Yes ma’am”
He slowly kissed his way up your body, when he got to your mouth the kiss he left there was so gentle, so borderline loving it made your head spin. His large hands smoothed down your thighs, calloused fingers digging in before he cursed “I don’t have any fucking condoms. I didn’t plan on this”
“I’m covered,” you told him. You’d just gotten a new IUD a couple months before, on top of doctor’s being fairly certain you getting pregnant was a very low possibility anyways. “Are you sure? We can wait” he offered and you shook your head “Please” his head fell over on your shoulder “Don’t beg for me, I’m not worth it” your fingers buried in their hair, tugging roughly until he lifted his head to look at you. You smiled at him “Yes you are. Now fuck me”
He nodded “Ok” and pressed a kiss to your lips before lining himself up with your opening. The feeling of him stretching your body around him had a low moan falling from both of you. “Feels so good John” you whimpered and he laughed lightly “Just what I was gonna tell you”
____________________
He quickly found a pace that had your nails digging into his flesh, his hips snapping into yours with such a force small gasps were ripped from your throat. You could feel the tension in his hips as he held himself back and knowing that was just a portion of his strength? Fuck that did something to you.
“Please don’t stop” you begged, feeling yourself right on the edge of pleasure. He slipped a hand between you, fingers finding your clit. He teased tight circles onto the sensitive bud and you came, hard, shaking around him. His pace never changed, hips never slowed.
He worked you through your orgasm then buried his face in his neck, chasing his own release. Your nails raked through his hair, down his back. Your breaths coming in sharp gasps. He had to be right there on the edge. He used one hand to lift your body, angling your hips just right and you felt him bury himself as deep as he could inside of you, thick spurts of cum painting your walls and right before you opened your mouth to say something he mumbled “Fuck, feels so good Liv”
You froze under him. It felt like your entire body had gotten dipped into ice water. Feels so good Liv. Liv. He was thinking about her. God, you were a fucking idiot. Everyone tried to warm you. You closed your eyes, begging your breathing to even out. The feeling of his cock buried in you, his body on top of yours made your stomach turn.
“I need to get up John” you whispered after a moment, opening your eyes. He was already looking at you, the bliss of release quickly fading by a look of confusion “Ok, is something wrong? Did I… oh god please don’t tell me I hurt you?” he gently pulled out of you and went to find his shirt to help you clean up but you shook your head “I’ll just take a shower back in my room”
“You’re not staying here?” he asked and almost sounded hurt. Fuck he was a good actor. How the hell had he failed drama class? “No, I um…I’m gonna go” you whispered, standing on shaking legs as he watched you. He slipped his boxers on and took a step forward, whispering your name “Talk to me. What did I do here? You told me you wanted me. I never would do anything you didn’t want. Please tell me I didn’t cross lines”
You shook your head, swallowing down tears because you didn’t want to set off alarm bells. “You didn’t John, I just I have a meeting early with Valentina’s people I just remembered. I’ll come find you in the morning after, ok?” “Ok” he said after a moment but you could tell he didn’t believe you. He took a step forward like he was going to try to kiss you but you stepped around him, using the excuse of plucking your shirt off the foot of the bed. “See you later Walker” you told him before damn near running out of his room.
warning : fluff, kiss, mutual feelings, kinda flirting, no use of y/n
Summary : With the former team around Val now taking care of the Thunderbolts, friendships were made and a family had just begun to form. The tower was rebuilt together by heroes and humans and at the housewarming party a shield bearer and an assistant get closer, both are drawn to each other but both might have a slightly different idea of a fulfilling evening just the two of them.
info : The somewhat flirtatious John I knew I wanted to write a more 'fun' one-shot. As always, have fun, thanks for all the support and see you next time!
masterlist
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The moment she heard the tower being used again, the team around Val seemed to know that something was about to happen.
Everyone was working flat out to get the tower ready for the new hero, but no one could have guessed that her wonderful Sentry would become so big that the whole city would be in danger.
The biggest monster wasn't the flying shadow, no, it was Valentina who was the monster in all of this and since the Thunderbolts had killed the city and its inhabitants, everything seemed to have calmed down a bit.
Val was more or less free under surveillance, safe in the knowledge that one misstep could land her in jail, because without her team she would have happily joined the Thunderbolts.
They had all turned their backs on their former boss, the know-it-all bossy beast who was most likely to have to answer for everything in court...but the Thunderbolts needed her as legal cover.
So it was that the Thunderbolts' new team of assistants scurried around the tower with their new bosses, who were more friends than employers.
Because you should never judge a book by its cover, a turn of phrase that suited the superhero group, they may all have a dubious past but it didn't matter in the face of the kindness and helpfulness they all showed.
The heroes and the humans worked together to rebuild the tower that was damaged, especially the three super soldiers were useful for the heavy bricks, steel beams and windows.
Ava was great for the technical stuff, whether it was the internet or all the holographic stuff in the lab, she was a great help to the technicians.
Yelena and Bob also did their best and when it came to decoration and design, the interior of the tower slowly but surely took shape.
It had taken more than a year, but when the heroes and their team held a small inauguration party in the tower, it seemed for a moment as if the spirits of the old Avengers were also here.
“A tower for the sign of hope and cooperation” she had said at the end of her little speech before her audience had fallen into applause and cheers.
The evening had been entertaining, the bar was open, the food freshly prepared and the conversations lively about further opportunities, private life and a few relationships...and perhaps she looked over a little too often that evening at the blond super soldier who was having a drinking contest with Alexei.
Sipping on her beer and occasionally munching on the snacks, she couldn't get away from John, but how could she not?
Since the moment they had all been working on the tower reconstruction and she had been working with John in the training room, she took over the mats and he hung up the punching bags.
It was a few hours together but in all that time she didn't see the man in the magazines and the press, he wasn't violent, he wasn't rogue or anyone wrong.
John was nice, friendly, courteous, polite at first until the mood between them loosened and she even seemed to see an almost flirtatious side, he was a broken man who had been let down by the system that had made him great.
Now he was doing the right thing to right his 'wrongs' and help people the way he always wanted to and had done.
Especially when he was finished with his task in the room much quicker, he took the last few months from her in one movement with a “Let me help the dear lady” and brought them to the other side of the room.
He almost seemed to enjoy the fact that she gave him an eye roll, “If you had a little more time Walker, I would have only needed ten more minutes,” she returned, indicating that she could only carry or pull one of the mats needed for the hand to hand combat.
The muffled thud of the mats rippled through the room as he just smirked, “Now we can spend the ten minutes if you want on other things” he had offered her before she shook her head slightly knowing she had to follow, the setting up of the training room was far from over.
The party was a boisterous evening that went on for several hours, a time when Yelena and Ava played matchmaker.
John and she were pressed together at every opportunity by the two women, whether it was getting drinks, eating or just talking.
She was either holding on to him to make room or he was gently holding her in place so she didn't get knocked over by the waitress and the drinks tray, “We seem to meet quite often,” she heard him say over the noise and her hand was already back on his arm as she moved closer to him again when Yelena almost generously took a swing at dancing.
The dance floor was relatively full but they would surely find room there, even if she could feel her nervousness, her heart beating fast whenever she saw him like this.
“Yes, you're right...Walker would you like to-?” her question as she overcame her fear, finally wanting to ask him for a dance but was interrupted by him as his hand placed itself on hers.
“Say, how about some private training?” a counter question that caught her a little off guard before she felt the heat on her ears, either it was an ambiguous innuendo or he was leading her somewhere else.
A quick glance at her friends, Yelena and Ava only cheered to themselves as they realized the whole thing, their joy seemed to grow as he led her out of the large main room, past her friends and his, past people celebrating, and she could hear everyone's questions the next morning.
It was only a few minutes before they arrived in the training room which turned on the lights as they entered, her gaze going to John who walked to the back of the room, although the shooting range would not have been her choice for some fun but to each their own.
The quick glance in the mirror attached to one side let her know that her dress was still wrinkle free, the highheel made her taller but not long enough for her to catch John's eye, the make up of Yelena and Ava getting some attention.
He's just a good-looking super soldier you can do this she thought to herself and walked the last few meters, her fingers already lightly on the shoulder fabric about to pull it down when she saw a broadly smiling John holding out earmuffs to her.
It was John Walker of course, the former soldier, ex Captain America and now somehow U.S. Agent was a training fanatic...but who would have thought that by private training he really meant training.
Not stopping the smirk that came to her lips she muttered, “You really are a soldier” to which he only replied with a slightly confused, “Yes of course I am” she waved him off as she put on her protectors and saw the case with the gun.
Maybe she wasn't a super soldier, she wasn't a black widow or able to walk through objects, but she had done some training too, every assistant would do well to at least be able to defend herself against people.
Taking the gun, disengaging the safety and raising it in front of her, she aimed at the target hanging at the other end of the wall and fired.
One bullet followed the other, her concentration on the shot even as she felt John's gaze on her, only when the magazine was empty did she put the safety back on, take off the ear muffs and turn back to him, “So how did I do?” she asked innocently.
She could see that he was impressed, but there seemed to be something else in his gaze as he didn't take his eyes off her, she could just see him walking away.
Just as she was about to turn around again, she noticed the movement, he pressed her lightly against the slab, his hands on her hips and she finally felt the kiss she had hoped for from this pretext.
Walkers own patience was gone as she heard the murmured, “You were perfect” as he broke away from the kiss only briefly, as he looked at her, as he looked at the love he had wanted to kiss for so long.
His hands on her hips gave her the opportunity to release them at any time, she saw excitement in his gaze as he moved from her asus to her lips.
When they both finally had what they wanted from the evening, when they finally had each other, when the eternal dancing around each other was gone.
As much as John loved his weapons, nothing beat the weapons of love and with the party still going on, no one would notice if they reappeared together a little later.
Requested by anon: John Walker x reader based on the song Moral of the Story by Ashe . They used to be married with no kids, after tfaws she left him only to come across him during the events of thunderbolts. John attempts to reconnect with her as he never stopped loving her.
Description: You never expected to be blindly sent to kill your ex-husband, but when you cross paths again in looping shame rooms, it’s like going through the pain all over again.
Tags/Warnings: Language. So much ANGST. John being an emotional rollercoaster. Shame rooms. Lots of fighting and regret.
Note: This turned out longer than expected but I loved writing this (my angsty heart is thriving) I'm currently obsessed with this man so expect more about him.
Masterlist
John Walker liked to think he always had the answer to everything. Or at least, most of the time. His brain ran on tactical planning, constant gears grinding with strategy and precision. He was the guy who accounted for every variable, every angle, every possible risk.
But right now? He had no idea how the hell he'd ended up in this situation. Out of all the threats he could've anticipated, out of all the variables he could've ever considered, he sure as hell never expected one of them to be named Bob.
Yes, Bob.
The weird guy that popped out of nowhere, in a bunker buried in the middle of nowhere.
That clean slate Valentina had promised him seemed to be slipping from his fingers by the minute. It was the last thing he could afford himself to screw up, with all his past failures clinging to him like heavy chains.
And yet here he was, stuck with the blonde he'd been sent to kill, a phasing assassin, and Bob.
Middle of fucking nowhere.
"Come on Bobby, you missed legs, arms and torso day" John mocked him, as he pulled him out the elevator shaft they were using to escape.
But the moment Bob's hand touched his, the world around him melted into a black shadow as it shifted around him.
The once warm air went stiff, cold.
When he turns around, he's suddenly back in his bedroom. Those godforsaken walls he once shared with you.
He takes a step forward, his pulse accelerating, and he's met with a scene his mind only replays when he isn't punching someone, when it gets too quiet.
And the first thing he sees, is you.
The ghost of you standing by the bedroom door in front of him, arms folded tight over your chest like they were the only thing holding you together.
It was too quiet, almost, the only sound being the zipper of a duffel bag his past self had thrown onto the bed.
"You're leaving already?" you past self broke the silence, voice so soft it barely reached him.
You didn't sound angry. You didn't even look like you had the energy to fight, not anymore.
John takes a step forward, watching how his past self didn't even throw a glance your way. The prick was too busy yanking dirty clothes from the bag and swapping them out for clean ones.
"You just got here" you mumbled, quieter now when he didn't answer.
John remembered this moment differently. He remembered you nagging, picking up a fight. But standing here now, watching like some unwilling spectator in a memory he didn't want to relive he really saw it, saw ... you.
Staring at him with glossy eyes, looking like not one single bone in your body wanted to fight him that day. You just stood there, still hoping that somehow this time it would land, that he would listen.
"Yeah, well" He muttered, eyes locked on a dirty torn off pair of boots he needed to get rid off. "Val needs me again. You already know how it fucking goes."
A quiet sob was caught in your throat. He saw now how you tried to swallow it, like you'd done a hundred times before.
"I haven't seen you in weeks, John. Is it really that easy for you to leave me? Every goddamn time?" you said quietly.
And fuck, he cursed when he heard it, it didn't even sound bitter. It was desperate, tired.
He scoffed, and let out that bitter, dismissive laugh he always pulled when he didn't want to feel anything. "Jesus Christ, are we doing this again?"
He didn't stop packing, like the answer to all his problems was hidden in a pair of socks rather than just turning around to look at you.
"Doing what, John? You choosing to leave every time instead of fucking talking to me?"
There it was, the anger he remembered.
"Then yes, John, we're doing it again. It's always your need to feel important. Like if you're not out there 'saving the world' you're nothing in here" you finally snapped. The ache in your chest made your words feel sour as they left your mouth.
That's what got under his skin. He saw it in the way his past self stiffened, jaw tightening with that same goddamn temper he could never quite control.
"You think I like doing this? You think I like risking my ass every time to come home to this? To another one of your guilt trips?" He's yelling at this point, throwing the holster in his hand back in his bag.
You looked like you'd been slapped.
"This?" you repeated stunned, pointing at yourself with your hands. "You mean me? I'm this'"
He turned to the door then, finally. But not to deny it, or to apologize or to even spare one single glance at you. It was to grab a jacket hanging on the doorknob.
He didn't say anything. Just grabbed his duffel bag and tossed it over his shoulder like the argument was some inconvenience he could just walk away from.
He keeps pretending to ignore you when he walks past you by the door, but a hand pressed to his chest stops his getaway.
"This is the last time I'm asking you to stay" You warned him. The lump in your throat betrayed you, what you wanted to sound firm came out like a child plea.
He didnt even flinch. He brushed it off and kept walking, thinking he'd come back home in a day or two, bring some takeout and fuck it out like always.
"Jonathan..." Your voice sobbed his name as he made his way to the front door.
Yet still, he never looked back. And neither did you.
That was the day you gave up on him. He remembers coming back a few days later, your favorite takeout in hand, only to find a half empty closet, empty drawers.
An empty home.
And now? Now it burned him watching it from the outside. Watching you blink away tears while he was too busy being an asshole.
His eyes burned, as his heart clawed its way up into a painful knot his throat.
He snaps back to reality when Yelena calls out to him. All eyes watching him, but his were locked in the tempting elevator's dark void.
What the fuck are you doing, John? Better man up before they see through your bullshit.
"Im fine" He said, a little too quick for comfort.
But with a plastic smile plastered on his face, his mask falls back into place like muscle memory.
And because karma seemed to have fun making John Walker's life even more miserable, he'd ended up tied in a half collapsed gas station.
Hostage to none other than Bucky Barnes.
Naturally, he just couldn't help himself to mock Bucky's absurd political position. Though in his defense, the bastard kept gettting on his nerves. They already knew each other, so why was Bucky being such an idiot about the whole Bob situation?
So John did what he always does. He fucked around and, as usual, found out.
"Yes. I know you, John" His tone was calm, but the hint of a smirk hid behind his words. "And you've made your choices. I know it's been hard since your wife left you, but that is no one's fault but yours"
The cruel words rolled out his tongue like he's been waiting to throw them in his face since he found him in the blown up limo they'd use to escape.
John just stares at him for a second, then his eyes drift to a particular paint chipping spot on the wall.
Yelena turned towards him, lips parted in surprise.
'I've got a gorgeous wife waiting for me at home' she remembered him saying it back in the bunker.
Liar.
Yelena had believed him back there. She knew a thing or two about John Walker, having read his file, recalled your name and picture being printed out next to 'affiliations'.
Must've been exhausting carrying that rage for two, was her first thought, but she wouldn't say it out loud. Not when he was giving her that kicked puppy look.
Cause he didn't shy away from her eyes, didn't say a thing. All he could do was give a small, tight shrug that said it all: add it to the fucking list of things I've screwed up.
Yelena didnt press further.
He was grateful for that, and for Ava being too busy bickering with Alexei to pester him any further about the matter.
But then, Bucky's stance shifted.
"Shhh" he hissed, hand going up to his lips. Alexei and Ava immediately stopped talking.
In a different occasion John could've laughed at the sight of Bucky Barnes looking like a guard dog about to bite, but if he was tensing up like that, it couldn't mean anything good for anyone. So he listened.
That's when he heard it too. An almost undetectable soft thump, but his enhanced hearing catches it. It was the slight creek of metal, straight above them.
"Someone's on the roof" John said at the same time as Bucky.
Everyone looked up. But before anyone could think about what it could be, the ceiling exploded.
The roof came crashing down in a cloud of smoke and ash. The room burst in chaos between shouting and coughing, debris flying everywhere as a smoke grenade rolled past their feet. All John could see was the flicker of Yelena's widow bites glowing blue as the haze blinded the room.
Then, a pair of boots landed hard on the floor.
He hears some struggle between Bucky and the unknown intruder, and then a thud of heavy metal hitting the floor. It must've been Bucky's arm slamming against the concrete. Someone had taken him down.
"I'm not here for you" the intruder said, a woman's voice muffled by a mask.
John instantly frowned. Even with the sound of debris falling down and the fighting in the room that muffled voice sounded familiar to him.
"I don't care" Bucky growled back.
The fight went on, blows landing hard and fast. Whoever she was, was determined to take him out.
But Bucky was the fucking Winter Soldier.
John feels Yelena drop next to him, then what must've been Ava falling unconscious as well, as the smoke hit their systems.
"Lena!" Alexei shouts.
"Okay now, what the fuck is going on?" John choked out, coughing.
He hears the fight halt for a second when he spoke.
The intruder recognized the voice. His voice.
You recognized his voice.
Bucky got the upper hand at the distraction, catching your wrist mid swing. He slams you to the ground with a quick motion, pinning you down with his knee and pressing his metal hand against your throat.
You gasped, struggling, eyes wide with fear under the mask. Next thing you knew his gun was pointed at your head.
As the dust cleared enough for John to see the scene, his face turns to horror. He sees the mask, and immediately knows.
You're about to get blasted into next week by Bucky.
"Bucky–Stop! Stop! It's Y/N!"
John broke his cuffs in one go, his arms fighting against the bent rod holding him back.
Bucky froze, confused. He ripped off your mask, and there you were, gasping for air. Still beneath his knee, throat red where his hand had been.
"Shit" Bucky breathed, when he recognized you. But before he could lift his weight off you, John tackled him to the ground.
The girls jolted back to consciousness at once. Coughing as they sat up.
"What the hell is going on?" Yelena rasped, seeing John on top of Bucky and you standing beside them.
"Man come on, I didn't know it was her!" Bucky snapped, twisting beneath John to shove him off.
You sat up in your spot on the floor, coughing, one hand still braced against your throat.
And then you saw him, that voice you heard. God, it had been years.
"John?" you said, voice hoarse. You wished it really wasn't him.
He pried his eyes off Bucky without loosening his grip, and half turned to you.
"Oh, you have to be kidding me" You curse, a hand covering your face.
It was really him.
You pushed yourself to your feet, ignoring the pain. "Get off him you idiot, I'm fine"
John didn't argue. Just got up and backed off, hands on hips. Everyone stared at him like he'd just grown second head. Why didn't he protest?
Bucky immediately got to his feet, annoyed, brushing dust from his shirt.
"So ... who are you?" Ava asked. She was still tied up and this was getting annoying.
"Y/N Walker," Yelena replied, the name burned into her memory from that file.
"That's not my name anymore," you snapped, too fast, too sharp.
John's jaw clenched, eyes going back to that same chipped spot on the wall.
"Wait, you were his wife?" Ava asked, incredulous. "What, Steve Rogers wasn't available?"
Bucky bit his tongue to keep himself from saying something.
"Ava..." Yelena warned, voice low.
As much as Yelena might've loved to take a jab at Walker herself, she didn't, his expression had left a feeling on her chest that stuck to her more than it should've.
"Where'd you even find this guy?" Ava pressed on, like the idea of you marrying John Walker had personally offended her.
You turned slowly, your glare enough to shut her up for half a second. "Give me a fucking break. When you're young, you fall in love with the wrong people sometimes." you snapped, without even thinking.
The words tasted like regret as soon as they came out. And you knew the way John stiffened meant they landed like a blade on him. His gaze burned the side of your head.
If he'd only looked at you like that then.
"Is no one going to mention she tried to kill Mr. Soldier?" Alexei chimed in, proving once again that he never knows how to read a room.
"I wasn't going to kill him," you muttered, rolling your eyes. "I just needed to knock him out long enough to get rid of you—"You pause, the pieces clicking together.
"Goddammit. Valentina." You muttered under your breath.
That bitch. She'd really sent you to kill your ex husband without even telling you. What is he going to think about you? That this is what you'd turned into?
"Wait–you work for Valentina now?" John asked, like the words physically hurt, like he couldn't believe that's the path you had taken.
"It's not like that, John," you sighed, suddenly aware of how many eyes were watching. "I was angry at everything. At you. I figured... if running helped you escape your life, maybe it would help me too."
He didn't speak, but you saw it in his face. The guilt, the disbelief. Had Val gotten to you the same way she got to him?
"She said she lost a facility to some rogue agents" you explained, more to yourself than to anyone else.
"Yeah" Yelena cut in, "Because she tried to kill us."
You blinked. And suddenly, it all made sense.
You turned back to John. "She didn't tell me you were one of them."
Your eyes locked on his, needing him to believe you. To see the truth in you, if nothing else. He barely nodded, but it was enough.
And then, from the corner, Ava scoffed.
"Pfft... perfect family" Ava muttered under her breath, shaking her head at the lie he'd told.
It had been perfect once, you thought. The dates. The proposal. The wedding. The honeymoon. The house with the porch swing.
The high school sweethearts who got married right after graduation because you couldn't keep your hands off each other.
The partying, the late night drives, the making out in parking lots, it was reckless and "romantic", all that was okay as teenagers.
But running wild has a way of turning volatile.
And then suddenly you were grown ups, trying to build a life, a home, a future. But your boy? he only knew how to fight. Maybe for the country. Maybe with you. Maybe both.
That's what he loved, really. The fighting. The heat.
Screaming, slamming doors and then fucking it off was the usual. The real break? Was when there was no more yelling, the unbearable silence.
Silence in a home you thought was built on love. Turns out it was just paper house you burned out. All that "marry your high school sweetheart, build a dream life behind a stupid white picket fence" bullshit?
Propaganda. Nothing more than that, a fraud.
You weren't perfect, you knew that. Maybe you were even selfish. But was it selfish to want to be wanted?
To want John to look at you like your company meant more than his next mission?
It didn't seem fair.
You thought you had your lives figured out. But then he was made Captain America. You were there when he went to the army. When he lost people. When the world turned its back on him. But when he got the serum? It was different.
All that pressure. The eyes on him. Expectations he could never live up to, no matter how right he tried to follow the orders.
And he tried. God, he tried. But the weight of it all twisted something in him.
He started carrying it alone like he had to. Like letting you see the cracks would make them real. He stopped talking, started shutting you out.
And in the end, the silence between you became permanent. So it wasn't the fight, the heat, or that stupid shield what got to you.
It was the quiet between two people who forgot how to ask each other for help.
—
It all happened too quickly. Even for John.
One second you were helping a little boy who fell, the next he saw you dive straight to push Yelena, shoving her away from a collapsed beam.
You barely dodge it.
But now there you were, in the middle of the chaos, standing directly in Sentry's line of sight.
John saw the way your body stiffened. You knew it. And he knew it too.
You made eye contact with him, just long enough to hold the blue of his eyes. That look, carved into his memory forever, like you were trying to memorize his face, like this would be the last time you'd see him.
He is horrified. He wanted to scream. He did scream your name so loud, so broken, it tore through the chaos and made the others flinch. But not even his enhanced speed could reach you fast enough.
One second you were there, and then the next ... nothing.
You turned to nothing more than a black shadow spilling on the ground.
John stopped dead in his tracks, wide eyes staring at the shadow where you stood. He blinked a few times, trying to make sense of what he just saw.
No. This wasn't happening to him again.
The ringing in his ears drowned out the screaming around him.
Not again. Please, not again.
It was Lemar. It was Afghanistan. It was everything all over again.
It was you, gone.
No, this couldn't be real.
He didnt give Bucky enough time to grab him. He didn't even think twice about it. He ran straight into the void, his footsteps so heavy they tore through the pavement, cracking it beneath his boots.
All he knew is that he couldn't fail at another thing in his life.
When darkness surrounded his eyesight, he crashed onto a wall. His ragged breath was the only thing he could hear as he came to his senses, and realized he was thrown into the same memory, that same room he had stepped in before.
"You're leaving already?"
Your voice behind his back startled him, and he whipped around expecting to see you. The real you. But it was your ghost.
"No, fuck that" John growled, marching forward. "I'm not watching this again."
He grabbed the shoulders of his past self who was stuffing clothes into the bag like it wasn't costing him everything.
"Look at her, you fucking idiot!" He yelled at himself, shaking his body. “She’s right there!”
His past self looks at him with that same smug, distant, uncontrolled anger he used on everyone else.
John barely had time to react before he was spun around and yanked into a chokehold by himself. His arms crushed his windpipe like a vice.
"Should've done that when you could Johnny" Past John muttered coldly.
John fights to free himself from the chokehold, kicking wildly, clawing at his own arms, struggling against his own brutal strength. He could feel his breath giving out.
"She’s not here anymore, John" You said, and if felt like adding salt to the wound.
This was it. This was the punishment. Watching himself ruin everything and then being choked by the same hands.
And then, it stopped.
The grip vanished. He collapsed onto the carpet, coughing, gasping for air.
The scene resets.
"You're leaving already?"
"No, no, no" He grunts, dragging himself up from the floor, looking around for a way out.
He spins, breathless. "Nice place, Bobby," he mutters bitterly under his breath, looking around like a caged animal.
He slams himself into the wall next to him, bent shield first. Nothing. The plaster doesn't even crack.
I have to find her. Where is she?
"Come on, baby. Where are you?" He spins again, searching for something, anything. A door, a window, a crack in reality.
His eyes catch on two mirrors standing side by side against the far wall. They shouldn't be there, they weren't before.
Both reflecting something different from what they were supposed to.
Two different scenes.
He steps towards the first one and sees those fucking pillars. The blood stain on the concrete. The day Lemar had–no. He turned his face away violently, he'd save that one for his nightmares.
He turns his eyes to the other mirror and catches the sight of an office. Your lawyers office.
He finds a silhouette across the room, watching the scene unfold on repeat. It’s you. The real you.
He puts his bent shield in front of him and pushes through the glass, landing hard in a new memory.
The crash doesn't startle you. You stand frozen, eyes glazed, watching the scene replay again, the end of your marriage looping in front of you like a broken film reel. Your back is to him.
John doesn't move forward, he can't.
He feels like throwing up when he sees it. The mahogany walls. The glass table. That goddamn vanilla air freshener like this wasn't the worst moment of your lives.
The moment he signed the papers.
You were separated by that long glass table. You sat beside your lawyer, hands fiddling in your lap, eyes glued on him. He was across from you, beside his lawyer.
And worst of all, his past self doesn't look at you. Not even now.
He just sat there, head hung low as he fiddled with the corner of the page. Your fresh signature next to his empty spot mocked him.
He'd told himself that day he couldn't take your angry eyes. But looking now he sees the truth. You weren't angry. You were grieving.
Hoping he'd just meet your eyes one last time. Like maybe if he did, you could still fix it. Maybe he'd remember how he used to look at you, like you were everything.
Like he loved you.
The pen next to the papers laid untouched for too long. He was dragging it out.
"We just need your signature, Mr. Walker, and we'll be settled" your lawyer said. Her voice slices through the tension like a knife.
It made him flinch, of course she was in a rush. For her, it was another Tuesday. For you, it was the end of the world.
And for him, it was losing the love of his life.
He gathered the gusts to finally reach for the pen, signed with one quick stroke, and tossed it back onto the table. The glass cracked where it fell.
Then came the screech of his chair, echoing off the polished floor, and the sound of his boots walking away.
The scene restarts.
John takes a shaky step forward. "Hey" he whispers, voice rough. You flinch. "It wasn't supposed to end like that"
"You just ... wouldn't look at me" You reply, your back still turned away.
"I couldn't" He blurts. "I couldn't see you not wanting me anymore. Wanting to end it all"
You spin around, voice breaking with anger. "Look at my face, John. Did I look like I wanted to end it?–I waited. I thought if you just looked at me, maybe we could salvage something. But you didn't. You never did"
He can't speak. God, he'd thought about that day a thousand times. About every way he could've stopped it, every word he should've said. But right now? that you're in front of him, sobbing and shaking, he was speechless, too ashamed.
"I tried to be there for you. After the captain America mess, Lemar, the government turning their back on you" You cry, remembering all the shit they put him through. "But you kept pushing me away, like being out there was the only place you mattered. Like having me wasn't enough for you."
"It wasn't like that" he said, shaking his head. "After everything I ruined, the field was the only place I felt like I was doing something right."
You cut him with just one line.
"I'm sorry our home didn't feel like that to you."
The pain in your voice hits him like a train. His pathological need to feel useful, needed, like his skills still held some value, had already taken so much. Then he gave it the last thing that still loved him. You.
"I used to think I knew everything about you" you whisper, shaking your head. "But then you got the serum and it turns I never really knew you. God, I really tried to."
You wipe your eyes, and John feels the earth drop from under him.
"I know I made too many mistakes. But it was real" he says, desperate. "You did know me, you loved me as much as I loved you."
He still remembered everything. The way your laughter filled the room after he made a stupid joke. The way your hands always found his, in crowds, in private, even in your sleep. The way you looked at him like he was worth saving, even when he wasn't sure he was.
"We were never what they made us out to be" you said, bitter. "We thought we were in love, but we were really just in pain."
You lie. Because it's the only way left to protect yourself.
Because you still remember too.
The way his arms felt around you, safe, strong, like the world couldn't touch you as long as he held on. The rasp in his voice when he was half asleep, mumbling nonsense against your neck. The way he made love to you like it was the only way he knew how to say I'm still here.
And the way he looked at you, like you were the one good thing in a world that had taken so much from him.
But you also remembered when it started to change, when the look in his eyes started to fade. The never ending fighting. How the conflict just kept escalating, becoming bigger than it should've.
And it hurt like hell.
He wants to punch a wall. To throw himself into that void he'd seen earlier. He sees right through you, he knows you're lying. He knows you remember as much as he does.
And the scene kept playing behind you, over and over.
"No" He snapped. "We loved each other. I loved you. I still fucking do."
He points at himself with both hands, and that's when you see it. A glint of silver poking out under his left glove.
His wedding ring. And that's what breaks you.
Because you can't answer. You can't admit you still love him too, not after all he's done. Not when he still wears the symbol of a promise he broke.
He steps forward, hesitating and you turn your face away, but he doesn't stop, not this time. Cause all you ever needed was for him to stay, to fight for you the same way he fought out there.
And now? He would crawl to the ends of the earth if you asked.
So he keeps walking, until he's in front of you.
Your hands cover your face as the sobs tear out of your chest, and his arms wrap around you without hesitation. One hand on your back, the other pulling you into him as he rests his chin on your head.
Your cries break against him.
How could he have hurt you like this? You were the only one who stayed when the world fell apart.
You don't know how much time passes as he holds you. How many times you heard the pen crack the glass. All you felt was the pressure of his arms wrapped around you.
And slowly, your sobs soften. All that's left is the quiet shake of your chest against his.
"I'm sorry" his voice cracked the silence. This time, he means it with everything he has left in him.
You didn’t respond. You couldn’t.
Because what do you even say when the apology comes years too late? When the damage has already carved itself into the walls of who you are?
So you just stand there. Wrapped in arms that used to mean home. Sinking into a chest that once felt like safety. Trying to remember how it used to feel.
And maybe that's the tragedy, that after everything this is the closest you've felt to him in years.
And it wasn't enough, not now not ever.
“Please…” he breathes, his voice scraping at the back of his throat. “Please, just… let me try to make things right.”
You pull away before he can say anything. You don't want to hear it, not his pain, not his regret, not his promises.
But his hand catches yours.
“Don’t leave me again, please.” His eyes search yours, desperate.
“John, you left me first” You shake your head, pulling your hand but he doesn’t let go.
“I don’t know if I can fix what I broke. And I know I lost the right to ask for anything from you. But if there’s a part of you, even a small one that still thinks of me when it’s quiet, then let me try. Cause I sure as hell think about you all the damn time”
You look at him, and it’s like he finally lets you see through him. Like he finally opened up the gates he shut on your face all those years ago.
“I was so scared” he admits, eyes looking to the ground. “Of all the weight, of failing, of not being enough for that shield or for you. And I didn’t know how to say it without sounding weak. So I fought everything instead, even…even you.”
“I would give anything just to go back to before I fucked it all up. To that night in the kitchen, when you asked if I still saw you in my future… and I stayed quiet.”
You feel something twist in your chest at that memory, the way his silence echoed louder than any fight you had before.
“I should’ve said yes. God, I should’ve said yes.”
There’s too much in you, too much pain, too much tired, too much history.
But for one second, you let yourself look at him. And it’s just your John in front of you. Bruised and begging.
And maybe that’s what love looks like sometimes.
Just the quiet, broken voice of someone asking for a second chance, even when they know they don’t deserve one.
Your throat feels tight, that fight in the kitchen.
You remember the way you leaned against the counter, arms crossed over your chest, trying not to break while your heart thudded like a war drum.
“Do you still see me in your future, John?”
He didn’t say anything. Just looked at you with eyes that didn’t hold an answer.
And now here he was, years later. Begging to rewrite a chapter that had already been printed and bound in the pages of your life.
You take your hand back, gently this time.
“You always had perfect timing” you say quietly, voice steadier than you feel. “Just never when it mattered.”
His hands twitch, like he’s ready to beg, to reach, to hold on, but you shake your head.
“I don’t know what this is anymore,” you whisper. “What is left of us, or if there’s anything left at all.”
You pause. Eyes on his one last time.
“I need you to understand that I’m not her anymore. I’m not the girl who built her life around you.”
He nods slowly. He’s not the same guy who did that to you either.
You take a deep breath. And reach to the collar of your suit, revealing a necklace with a shiny ring dangling from it.
His breath hitches like you just knocked the air out of him. His eyes drop to the ring, and for a second, he forgets how to stand.
You still have it, you didn’t discard it, you carry it with you.
Just like he does.
“You kept it…” he says, barely above a whisper.
His voice cracks like a fault line, and your chest tightens because you weren’t supposed to make this harder. You were supposed to walk away and leave no room for what ifs.
John takes a slow step forward, not touching you, just standing close enough that you can feel how badly he wants to.
“Can I…” His voice falters. “Can I still try?”
You wanted to say yes, that was the worst part.
And maybe that’s the moral of the story. Some mistakes get made, that’s alright, that’s okay. In the end you choose what you think it’s better for you.
Even if it means to throw yourself back again into what once destroyed you.
—
(I’m leaving it as an open ending, let me know what you think pls)
living in The Watchtower and seeing Walker everyday is no easy task, especially when all he wants is your attention and all you want is for him to disappear. It all culminates in a concerningly violent and sexually charged sparring match
[Reader is a mutant with the power to manipulate blood, and has a serum-induced healing factor similar to Wolverine's. Former Widow and Avenger, current Thunderbolt New Avenger.]
john walker x fem!reader
words: 4.7k
cw: canon typical violence, swearing, descriptions of blood and injuries, choking, implied suicidal ideation, self inflicted wounds, dry humping, enemies to reluctant allies and back to enemies, pining, john calls the reader ‘Red’ (because of the blood shtick, he’s very creative) (18+ MDNI)
a/n: hi again still consumed by thoughts of this fucking guy. It’s looking like this will have 3-4 parts, most of which just needs to be beta’d. thank you to those who enjoyed the first part!
nobody puts baby in the corner - fall out boy
You never talk about it, what Walker had seen of your guilt in The Void, but the experience haunts him all the same.
He thinks about it all the time, still trying to compartmentalize the memory of you in that bunker. How broken you were in that moment is burned into his brain and he hasn’t gotten it to go away. But there's a part of him that wants to keep it with him, because knowing a secret about you that no one else does makes him feel special for reasons he doesn’t want to confront. The rage he saw from you that day felt like looking in a mirror, reflecting the same urge in him that’s always simmering under the surface.
Despite the unexpected support he’d given you in that day, you still treat Walker harshly. If you can keep him at arm’s length, then maybe it won’t feel so humiliating that he knows you more intimately than you wanted him to. You look at him like you're just waiting for the betrayal. Even when he’s done nothing wrong, he can't stay in your good graces. He wants to talk about it. Wants a better explanation of what he’d seen, to understand your pain, to tell you that maybe it’s okay, but you never give him the chance.
He’s known from the start that you’re complex, that you had gone through hell, but he had no idea just how much. He didn’t realize the violence you were capable of, the restraint that you must be clinging to in every fight, or else everyone will see you for what you are. In Latvia, you’d looked at him like he was a monster, and that’s what really gets under his skin about the whole thing. How you still act like you're better than him. Like you aren’t one too.
And then it’s six months later. Six months of settling into The Watchtower, six months of varying levels of public scrutiny over the title Valentina bestowed upon them, six months of finally being an Avenger. And inadvertently, six months of you and John walking on eggshells around each other. He can’t back down from a fight, especially when you’re the one who's picking it. The two of you bicker more often than not, always filling the space between you with harsh words and heated insults.
Today’s argument has been building up for the last week, starting early Tuesday morning with an offhanded comment from John about your coffee habits. It escalated on Wednesday when you made fun of his beret, and now it’s coming to a head in the training room. You’re fully at each other’s throats, interrupting the drills you’d been running. You aren’t even sure how it got this bad. One minute, it’s your turn to lead today’s combat exercises; the next, he’s making some smartass comment because you dared to do your job and correct his too-wide stance.
"You just have to be the smartest person in the room at all times, don't you?" John snaps, clenched fists at his sides as he breaks form.
You scowl at his scrutiny, eyes narrowing as you bite back, "No, it's just that you’d rather be impulsive than prepared." You step closer to him, your footing precise and purposeful, still trying to keep your composure. "You're a disaster, Walker. You make decisions based on your ego and emotions, not logic. Strength won’t always save you."
John’s eyes are dark, his jaw clenched tight as you're on the edge of invading his personal space. With every word from your mouth, he’s getting more and more agitated— pissed even. Your proximity awakens that jittery feeling in his chest again, leaving him insecure. He could face his feelings head-on, take a step back and try to just talk to you, but instead his base instinct is to make sure you feel as bad as he does.
"Don't you dare lecture me on emotions," he sneers, pointing an accusatory finger at you. "You act like you're so much better, like you hold some moral high ground. But you're just as messy as me, if not more."
Your eyes flicker with offense, and you grit your teeth, taking a few more steps towards him until your chest makes contact with his outstretched finger. John pulls his hand back so quickly; you’d think the faint brush against your clavicle burned him.
"Moral high ground? Don’t make me laugh. You have the gall to talk about morals when everything you stand for is built on a crumbling foundation of personal gain and glory." You’re both alone in the gym now, the team already filtered out of the room five minutes ago, witnessing your spats enough times to know to make themselves scarce.
"Glory?" He laughs, the sound lacking any delight, "I do what I do for justice, not glory, Red." His gaze is unwavering, but his body tenses as you approach, nearer than he’d like you to be. "Oh, right, I forgot, you're such a saint, aren’t you? Your hands are clean, right? No Hydra skeletons in your closet at all, huh?" It’s a low blow, but it’s also the closest either of you has come to acknowledging that day in The Void, and he’ll keep prodding at the wound if it keeps your attention on him.
Your brows raise in shock as soon as the words leave his mouth, not bothering to school your features. You're taken aback by his boneheaded audacity. Months of shoving that day deep down and locking it away where it can't bother you, and here he is throwing it in your face.
"Watch it, Walker," you warn steadily, your tone increasingly hostile. "You don’t want to start something you know you can’t finish."
He stiffens at your warning, a subtle reminder of the fight in Latvia. John knows he's crossed a line, but he can't make himself shut up. "You think you've got me all figured out, huh?" John lets out another humorless laugh. He’s nervous, and you can tell because you can feel it in his pulse. "You judge me over my worst mistake, but your dirty little secret isn’t any better. I’ve seen what you're capable of, Red. And let me tell you, it ain't pretty."
"You’ve had it out for me for years, Walker,” you scoff. "I think you’re just mad because what you saw shatters your delusion of me being the enemy. But we’re not as different as you made us out to be in your head, are we?” You’re in his face now, forcing yourself into his orbit. “You think you know what I can do? You haven’t seen anything yet.”
"Is that a threat?" He snaps, his gaze cold as he looks down at you. "You really think you can take me on by yourself, huh?”
You stare him down, unimpressed, but it’s obvious from the grinding of your teeth that he’s getting to you too. You’re both too stubborn and prideful to back down now. Fine. If he wants a demonstration, you'll give him one. You’ve been itching for the chance to finish that fight from the vault, anyway.
"Let’s see how that shit stance of yours holds up in a real fight." You shift in your spot, not stepping down but back, reaching for your boot. There’s an old hunting knife stashed inside; serrated edges dull from decades of use. It’s the only weapon you’ve ever needed to carry. “I beat you bloody once, and I’ll do it again. I don’t need Sam and Bucky’s help.”
"A butter knife? You're gonna have to do better than that to handle me, Red," he mocks, an arrogant sneer tugging at the corner of his mouth. You’re so damn cocky— it's infuriating and alluring all at once. John stomps on the lip of his discarded shield to send it upwards and catches it in midair. He's itching to knock you down a peg, show you that he's not the pushover you like to think he is. You’re good, he'll give you that, but he's better. He has to be.
Your grip tightens on the hilt of the knife, your attention drawn to his shield. "It’s not the butter knife you need to be worried about," you warn. Holding your forearm out in front of you, you slice a vertical line from your wrist to the crook of your elbow. You’re unflinching, staring Walker down, switching hands and doing the same to the opposite arm. Blood pours from the alarming wounds like a faucet thanks to your radial artery, and you toss the hunting knife somewhere behind you. The scent of iron permeates the room, the tell-tale sign of your hemokinesis at work. Right in front of his eyes, the blood dripping from your arms starts to shift and slither through the air, pooling into each palm and solidified, until it resembles two macabre-looking scimitars. It’s one of your signature moves, but Walker knows it looks tougher than it actually is.
The two of you begin to circle each other, each step calculated and precise, each of you trying to predict what the other will do. The air is cloying with tension, both fueled by misunderstandings and resentment, and neither one is willing to give an inch. All bets are off as soon as you lunge forward, closing the distance with blinding speed. It’s an instantaneous clash, a brutal dance of blades and fists, pushing each other to the limit, and no one holds the upper hand for long. John can feel the adrenaline surging through him with every blow, every block, every parry. He knows he should be restraining himself, you’re his teammate at the end of the day and he shouldn’t be putting you at risk. But the anger boiling inside him is making it very hard to be rational.
Every time a hit lands, he wants to crawl out of his skin at the way it makes him crave your touch. Despite the discomfort, he pushes through, refusing to let you get the best of him. He tries to throw you off guard with a sudden feint, but you see it coming and block easily. Your eyes lock for a split-second, the understanding between the two of you that this isn’t just a spar to get it out of your systems, that it’s real.
You counter him with your own onslaught, your blades moving with expert precision, slicing through the air in a muddled red arch. You’re a whirlwind, not holding anything back. Your movements are fluid and effortlessly graceful, but there's nothing pretty about the bloodshed that follows in your wake. There’s sweat dripping down his face, his usual cocky demeanor replaced with a look of intense concentration as he blocks and dodges your relentless assault. You’re putting up more of a fight than he expected, but Walker is no pushover. He's stronger, just as deadly, and he needs this.
He throws himself at you unexpectedly, and when you move to block him, his shield crashes into your sanguine blades, and they shatter in your hands with a delicate crack, like picking at a scab. You roll out of the path of his shield before he can land a hit on you, wiping dried blood on your pants. The cuts you’d made on your forearms have long since healed, the process more painful than the initial slice, and the only indication you were ever bleeding at all is the red staining the fabric of your top.
You both pause, panting as you size each other up. John takes stock of you; sweaty, bloody, and a little bruised up, but your chin is high. You’re breathtaking, and it’s that same awe that he’d felt in The Void. He’s lost in thought and still catching his breath, foolishly expecting you to take a second to do the same. But you charge at him instead, going low. His stance— the very same one you’d criticized him for earlier— is too wide, and it’s far too easy to slip through his parted legs. One well-timed kick later, and his shield is knocked out of his grasp and clear across the room.
That was way easier than it was in Latvia.
Before John can even process what’s happening, you’ve already darted past him, a blur of motion. He turns too late, and his shield goes flying, clattering to the floor with a dull thud. Frustration builds up in his veins as he realizes his disadvantage, his best defense gone.
His jaw clenches tightly as he tries to keep himself composed, making a break for his shield. But you’re faster, lighter, and before he can even make it a few feet, you’re on him again, coming at him with such speed that he barely has time to react. He stumbles backward, narrowly dodging your punches and kicks, but he’s off balance, and it’s affecting his ability to bite back. The shield is out of the question now, and he needs to find a way to get the upper hand, and quickly. You’re ruthless, his thin t-shirt doing nothing to absorb your attacks, the force of your hits reverberating within his chest.
He can barely get a solid shot in, but he keeps trying. He watches your timing carefully, evaluating your move set, and finally, his fist connects with your jaw. You can hear the bone cracking in your ears, and when the pain finally registers, you’re almost shocked at the innate strength behind his punch. Almost. Still, you refuse to falter, taking the hit like a champ, head snapping to the side and then back to him just as quickly. Your ears are ringing as you reach up to wipe away the trickle of blood that flows down your chin, your fractured jaw already stitching itself back together. You only manage to smear it across your skin, the crimson a compliment to your complexion. You’re unfazed— if anything, it seems to have only fueled you further, diving back into the fray with a crooked smile.
It's a sick thrill, but John can’t deny the sense of satisfaction he gets as he sees the blood dripping down your jaw. Outside of your memory, he’s never seen you this way; almost feral, and it’s both horrifying and hot. But he doesn’t have time to dwell on the thought, because you’re throwing punches again, your movements even more aggressive than before. And he matches you blow for blow, neck in neck, both still determined to come out on top. You’re both breathing heavily, the exhaustion second to the need to prove the other wrong. The sounds of the fight are almost animalistic, punctuated by grunts of effort and stifled cries of pain.
Another perfectly timed punch to your ribs sends you flying backwards through the room, and you’re impressed that he’s actually been listening to you during training. You land in a steady crouch and sacrifice no time as you rush John, driving your knee up into his chest. It sends him staggering back just enough for you to somersault behind him and make a swing at the back of his knees. It’s not enough to bring him down, but that was never your goal. You grab onto his shoulders as he regains his footing, and you throw yourself onto his back. He swings at you as he turns, trying to pull you off, but you use his outstretched arm like a high bar, flipping yourself around him until you can wrap your legs around his neck.
John can feel your thighs squeezing him like a vice, your torso blocking his view. Despite the exertion that he’s feeling in his bones, he’s suddenly wired as your weight settles over his shoulders. He’d never admit to having this exact fantasy in a slightly different context, one that he's consistently tried to push as far down as he can. He tries to throw you off him, but your grip is too strong, elbows aiming at his head. He can smell you like this, and he tries to hold his breath to no avail, your scent overwhelming his senses. His vision blurs as your elbow connects with his cheekbone, so focused on getting you off that he forgets to block your strikes, letting you get in a few shots to the face. His next move is impulsive, his hands holding your back, his face almost pressed against your stomach as he slams you both down onto the mat. Your back meets the ground, and his weight comes crashing down onto you.
The air is knocked out of you as his mass crushes you into the mat. He’s fucking heavy, bulkier than he looks, his muscle not just from the serum, but earned, and the impact sends a jolt of pain up your spine. He’s so close, your hands pushing at him, trying not to dwell on the feeling of his firm chest or the warmth radiating from his skin. You don’t give in, knees digging into his sides, trying to ram your head into his as you scramble for an opening. Then, John makes a move neither of you expected, his hand suddenly wrapping around your neck and stopping your struggle. You don’t even have the shame to be disgusted by the heat that overtakes your fury, the thrill that runs through you when you notice the way he’s watching you.
He’s not sure what he’s doing; he’s running on sheer instinct and a dire need to win. And the feeling of your body under him, struggling and fighting, is making it even more difficult to think clearly. He grips your throat, fingers pressing into your skin just enough to stop your flailing. He leans in, his eyes locking onto yours, noses inches apart. There’s a tense, charged silence as you stare at each other, the tension shifting into something unknown. Your lips quirk up into a wry smile, sardonic and unnerving. It’s the same one he's seen you regard and enemy with countless times before the final blow— when they’ve played right into your hands.
“Enjoying yourself, John?” You tease with faux innocence, not bothering to hide your amusement. The use of his given name is unfamiliar on your tongue, but it’s fitting given the situation.
A disgruntled sigh escapes him at the sound of his name on your lips, the fingers on your throat flexing as he responds. "Shut up,” he mutters defensively, losing his nerve. He could snap her neck if he wanted to, they both know it, and yet he senses no fear from her.
You raise an eyebrow, tilting your chin in defiance. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Go on, get it out of your system, I dare you,” you rasp, vocal cords straining, but he isn’t cutting off your air supply. “You know you can’t actually kill me, but you can find out how it feels to.” Your skin flushes at the thought, your pulse pounding alongside the steady force of his hand. There’s a buzz running through you that’s probably just from the pressure, but you feel more alive than you’ve felt in a long time. It takes everything in you to hold back the revealing moan that threatens to fall from your lips.
Your taunts go straight to his head and his dick, his desire for you building at an alarming rate. He's not sure if he's ever been this turned on in his life or felt so shameful that this is what got him riled up. He tightens his grip on your throat ever so slightly, a small part of him wanting to push your limits and his, just to see how much of this you each can take.
"Don’t test me, Red,” he growls, “I’m not playing games.”
Your eyes flutter shut for a split second, your racing pulse betraying you. You know this is a stupid game you’re playing, but you can’t help the way your body reacts to his touch, the anticipation of what he’s going to do next. There’s also the fact you can’t actually die spurring you on— you’ve healed overnight from a broken neck before, even if the process is always more excruciating than the initial injury. It might be a twisted form of self-harm, but at least it’s yours.
Your lashes flit back open, watching him unnervingly. “I think you’re all bark and no bite,” you say, your mockery steady despite the stress on your windpipe. “Wanna prove me wrong?”
Walker’s fingers tremble on your throat, the urge to squeeze growing as you continue to goad him. He’s not going to hurt you, but part of him wants to, and you know it. He’s not supposed to lose control like this anymore; he shouldn’t be giving in to his darker instincts so easily when he’s trying to be a better man. He leans in, crowding over you, his face barely inches from yours, noses brushing. He’s never been as strong as he wants others to think, and the fact that you’ve so effortlessly seen past his walls is infuriating. He can’t resist anymore; the incessant need to prove you wrong, to get you to notice him, is all-consuming.
“You asked for it.”
You barely have a moment to think of some other snarky comeback before his lips are crashing onto yours with a ferocity that takes you by genuine surprise. The kiss is rough and borderline frantic, his teeth biting into your bottom lip as his tongue slips past to seek yours. He doesn’t waste time.
And you respond to it, your body moving beneath his as you match his intensity, nails digging into the jersey of his shirt. You can feel how hard he’s trembling, can sense the repressed need radiating from him. It’s really not the reaction you were going for by taunting him, but you’re not about to say no. It’s still a fight, the battle for dominance bleeding over into the way you indulge in each other. He’s overwhelmed by you already, the taste of iron on your tongue, your nails tearing into his skin, the noises you make. Your teeth drag over his lip and his hold on your neck loosens ever so slightly. He almost looses himself entirely, too close to relinquishing control before he remembers himself, fingers tightening.
You gasp at the added pressure on your throat, his weight digging into you, every muscle taut and ready, caging you in. The last time you saw him this way was in Latvia, bursting at the seams, and it's a personal victory that you can bring it out of him. You wrap your legs around his hips and grind yourself against him, a silent challenge to keep up with you. He might be on top of you with his hand around your neck, but you refuse to let him believe he has the upper hand. He groans involuntarily as your hips rock up into him, the hard outline of his cock under his sweatpants brushing over your cunt.
Your enthusiasm is stoking his ego, and his free hand skims over your body, savoring the contour of your curves and muscles beneath his fingers. It’s driving him insane, the way you move beneath him, arching into his touch as he slips under your shirt. He’s never felt passion like this, and for months he’s been lying to himself about his complicated feelings. He breaks the kiss, breathing fast as he tries to regain at least some of his composure, and glances down at you.
You look utterly debauched.
Your hair is spread out beneath you on the mat, tangled and unruly, your eyes just as wild. The blood from his left hook is still drying on your chin, and you can feel the process of your vessels bursting under the pressure of his fingers, the blood pooling blow the skin threatening to leave a bruise. Marks never last long on you, but somewhere in the back of your mind, this time you wish they would. There’s a defiant challenge in your eyes as you meet his heavy gaze, rolling your hips harder just to see the look on his face.
“So, which one of us is winning now?”
John’s mind is a mess, his body screaming for release, and your snarky tone isn’t helping. He tries to ignore the way you bat your lashes at him, his control slipping with every passing second.
“Isn’t it obvious?” he growls, his hand under your shirt moving higher, his touch uncharacteristically gentle. “You think I’m gonna go down that easy?”
You flash your teeth at him, a mischievous glint in your eyes, blood still in your gums. “Oh, I don’t think you’re really the type to go down at all,” you retort, using his phrasing against him, turning it into an insulting innuendo.
He feels a sharp stab of embarrassment at the double meaning of your mockery, quickly followed by arousal, his body reacting involuntarily. But his ego won’t let him back down, not now, not when you’re finally smiling at him with those pretty lips. The desire to knock you down a peg is fading fast, replaced by a desperation to have you in any way you’ll let him. He grinds himself against your cunt, the pressure growing more insistent as you find a matching rhythm.
“You’d like that, Red,” he mutters, his fingers grazing the curve of your breast, your skin so much softer than he’d imagined. “Admit it.”
“Why would I do that?” You laugh, the sound breathless. “You’re the one who’s desperate for it.”
“You think you still have a chance to come out on top,” he sneers, but it sounds forced, like he’s losing conviction. “You’re wrong.” Your skin burns his fingers, the movement of your hips making it hard to focus. But he’s determined to keep his composure, to not give you the satisfaction of seeing him squirm.
You lock eyes with him, your glare cloudy, still smiling like it’s all one big joke. “That's so?” Quickly, you pull your hands from his hair, grabbing for wrist of the hand at your throat. You use his distracted state to disarm him, legs locking around his waist and boots digging into the backs of his knees. Using all the strength you’re capable of, you flip your positions, a maneuver you could have done at any time. “What was it you said about topping?”
A stunned gasp leaves his lips as he’s practically thrown to the ground. He’s not used to being moved, and it’s just another thing about you that pisses him off and gets him going at the same time. He’s on his back now, with you straddling his hips, the rush he gets from you looking down at him completely unexpected.
John groans in frustration, his fingers finding your thighs, digging into your flesh. “You gonna start playing dirty now?”
"Oh, honey," you laugh, your sore voice thick with delight. A sly smile spreads across your face, like you know something he doesn’t. "I've been playing dirty this entire time."
And just as quickly as you’d gotten wrapped up in each other, you’re detangling yourself from him, however reluctantly. You’re halfway across the gym before he can even manage a protest, fully intending to leave him high and dry and wanting. The sting of your rejection builds in his chest, his body reeling from the sudden loss of your warmth. He rises to his feet, his eyes never leaving you as you stalk towards the door, your back to him. The way you move even now is predatory, like a leopardess prowling through the grass.
“What the hell, Red?” He calls out, his tone tinged with both desperation and embarrassment. “You can’t just walk away like that.”
Your grin only grows wider as he calls out to you, but you continue walking as if you didn’t hear him. You can feel his eyes burning a hole in the back of your head, sharp and intense, and it gives you a kick of satisfaction. You have to force yourself not to turn back, your heart telling you to stay here and explore this with him head-on. But your head, on the other hand, refuses to be defeated, not by him, not by anyone.
“Nice match, John,” you call back behind you. “Maybe you’ll finally beat me next time.”
And with that, you strut out the doors, never looking back, like he’s not worth another second of your time.
As the Thunderbolts make their way through The Void, Walker ends up a witness to one of your shame rooms, a past you've kept close to your chest for decades.
[Reader is a mutant with the power to manipulate blood, and has a serum-induced healing factor similar to Wolverine's. Former Widow and Avenger, current Thunderbolt.]
john walker x fem!reader
words: 2.6k
cw: canon typical violence, detailed descriptions of death, lots of blood, enemies to reluctant allies back to enemies, slow burn, multi-chapter (18+ MDNI)
a/n: wow it's been like four years since I posted fanfic online. thunderbolts has me in a choke hold, this will likely be a few parts just to test the waters.
i am not a woman, i’m a god - halsey
You and John Walker never got along.
Not in Latvia, when you joined Sam and Bucky during the Flag Smashers situation, which then became a Walker situation when Lemar Hoskins was killed in combat. Not after, when you had no purpose without the Avengers, and signed your soul over to Valentina just to feel something. And not in the vault, where it had been your assignment to take him out, a chance you’d had before the group realized the trap they were in and didn’t take. There isn’t much of a shift between you, even when the group is forced to band together against Valentina. And when The Thunderbolts take the risk to save Yelena and Bob from The Void, you decide the universe must really have it out for you when Walker ends up in one of your shame rooms by mistake.
Your first room is naturally your first kill in the Red Room. A little unoriginal given the circumstances, but your recollection of the event is foggy, hidden behind decades of brainwashing and trauma. You watch the loop a few times, stone-faced as the image of your twelve-year-old self gets blood that isn’t your own on your hands for the first time. It’s the kill that started it all, and you can’t even remember the other girl’s name.
There’s subtle movement in your peripheral vision, and for a minute, you think it’s going to be more of this specific memory. But when you turn towards the shattered mirror, you see a flash of navy blue and the outline of a shield bent in half. Smashing the rest of the broken pieces away with your elbow, you dive through the frame, landing in an ungraceful heap as the room around you shifts too quickly for you to make sense of it.
And once you can finally understand your surroundings, you’re frozen in place, despite your brain pleading with you to move.
It’s a Hydra bunker— one you’re intimately familiar with.
The walls are lined with rusted, dilapidated metal sheets, and when the overhead lights stop flickering enough to actually illuminate the area, they’re dim, only just bright enough to see a few feet at a time. The atmosphere is menacing, but not overwhelmingly threatening with the smell of disinfectant in the air. It’s like knowing a jump scare is coming up in a horror movie you’ve seen a hundred times and still falling for it anyway. It’s the absence of life that plants the sinking feeling in your gut, quickly blooming into full-blown nausea. You know exactly what piece of your past this is, precisely where this path leads. Then, you hear your name called, and that’s not a detail you remember— they’d only ever called you The Mutant— and your head snaps in the opposite direction.
“…Is that you?” Walker calls from the shadows behind you. Of course, John Walker had to find his way here.
“It’s me, Walker,” you sigh. Your trepidation spreads throughout the rest of your body as you realize you’ll both have to get past this room, your guilt, to get out.
“Good...” John murmurs to himself, relieved, his footsteps becoming more confident, comfortable even, as he makes his way to your side. He takes in the sight of you, reading the grimace on your face, your still posture. “I take it you know where this is?” He glances away from your uneasy expression, scanning the hall for active threats, clearing his throat awkwardly. The two of you have never really been alone together, and this is certainly not how he’d pictured team bonding would go.
“Hydra base,” you reply stiffly, hollow eyes finding his as he steps up to your side. You don’t know what Walker actually knows of your past, of Hydra. Some of its public information, a good chunk of rumors and speculation, but most won’t even dare speak your name. Your heart is racing, your body growing heavier with each deep, shaky inhale, bracing yourself for what's about to happen. The past you have no choice but to let Walker witness firsthand. Your hands tremble as you begin to lead him down the dark corridor, your back teeth grinding together in restraint. The memory is vivid, the sense of distress and apprehension thick, perfectly designed by The Void to make it feel like you’re reliving it all over again.
John finds himself staring at the back of your head, brow furrowing into a questioning frown as he watches you tense, your entire frame wound tight. Your reaction is odd to him; typically, you’re so composed, so stone-faced in the path of danger. In Latvia, you’d been perfectly poised as you helped Sam and Bucky take him down to get the shield back. The pair stalk down the hallway, his gaze trailing down to your hands, noticing the visible tremors. Whatever this is, it’s hard for you. He’s never seen anything be difficult for you. You were a hero, a real Avenger— a symbol he’d failed to aspire to— and inadvertently he’s despised you for it. He can hear the erratic rhythm of your racing pulse, his own speeding up to match yours. He follows your lead dutifully, a half-step behind you, bent shield at the ready. If you’re scared, he should be too.
You lead Walker into the dodgy lab, still knowing the route by heart all these decades later. You almost wish it were any of the other Thunderbolts here with you, but you suppose John might be the one who will pity you the least. The lab is crawling with Hydra scientists busy at work and guards armed to the teeth. The mirage of people don’t acknowledge the two of you as you step past the threshold. But instantly, across the room, your eyes land on the cryogenic freezer in the center.
Beyond the frosted glass rests a younger visage of you, your unconscious body frozen in its place, a blinking collar strapped around your neck meant to suppress your mutation. The scientists study your unmoving body clinically as they rush to duplicate your genetics, their intention to isolate which one of the many different super-serums they forced on you finally stuck.
John takes in the sight of the Hydra base as he follows you like a guard dog, the only way he can describe the atmosphere is just wrong. It takes him a second to notice the cryogenic freezer, and immediately his stomach turns. There’s a strangely familiar figure inside it, but his eyes don’t linger on the unresponsive body contained within the glass. He’s more focused on the real version standing beside him.
“...That’s you…?” It isn’t exactly a question, but it’s the best he can offer— words feel foreign on his tongue right now. You’re frozen solid. “What... happened?”
“The one and only,” you lament bitterly, watching the past vision of yourself, too fearful to even blink, in anticipation. “Just watch.” Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Walker open his mouth for more questions, but before he can ask them, the power cuts out. It at once sends the scientists and guards into a frenzy, red emergency lights flashing overhead, giving vague glimpses into the pandemonium every few seconds. You suspect Walker is about to bolt, always prepared to jump headfirst into the action, but it isn’t necessary, and you reach out to hold him back with an arm wrapped around his bicep. His stare shifts between the panic surrounding them and you, his brain trying to process exactly what he’s seeing, but he soon finds himself unable to move as you keep him anchored in place.
‘Just... watch.’
The order doesn’t sit right with him at all. He’s just supposed to stand here and do nothing? His entire being is screaming at him to just... move— but the argument dies on his tongue at the desperation in your grasp, and he stays put. There’s another moment of pitch black before the room is illuminated once more in an eerie crimson, only the panicked voices of the guards echoing throughout the lab as they try to find the source of the outage. They know every second is one closer to death, and you already know that all of their efforts end up being wasted. They never had a chance.
In other shame rooms, you’ve had to fight your way out. But in this one, neither of you will have to lift a finger.
Across the room, the illusion of your frozen body is backlit by the pale blue emitted from the cryogenic chamber, still unmoving, seemingly unaware. Then, the room is bathed in shadow again, and at once a screeching alarm pierces the air, followed by an ominous hiss. When the red light flashes this time, the cryogenic chamber is empty, the door barely hanging on its hinges. Walker’s gaze darts between the past and you in the present, chilled to the bone at how you already know what’s going to happen before it ever does— Like you’ve seen it a million times.
“What the hell...?” John whispers, his eyes scanning the area once more, hoping to see a sign of... something— But finds nothing but panicking agents. Steam fills the room, the remnant chill from the chamber seeping out into the air, the crimson lights reflecting off the fog. There’s a second faint click, and the power dampener collar is chucked into the wall, cracking on impact.
Your past self stands on shaking feet in the center of the room, your silhouette illuminated in a crimson glow, a fitting visage. In the present, you have no time to brace yourself as the lights flash back off, the temperature rising as the sound of the alarm gives way to feeble screams for help and automatic gunfire. A despondent, tortured cry follows, echoing through the room, reminiscent of a banshee. Your grip on Walker’s arm tightens, no longer holding him in place but onto him, unwilling to gage his reaction. John is trying to keep his eyes locked on the past-you in the middle of the lab, but with your speed and the flashing lights, it’s difficult. Everywhere, chaos continues to break loose, his eyes surveying every corner of the room as it’s lit up by the blinding red. Your hold on his arm grounds him, but he’s too entranced by what’s happening to read into your touch. You’re… terrifying, but not in the way that most would think. Terrifying in the sense that you look so powerful. You’re fast, efficient, and downright deadly. Everything he assumes they made you to be. Instinctively, his hand rests over yours in a firm grip as if to say: It’s all right…
And then, just like that, the power is restored, overhead lights flicking back on to reveal a scene that can only be described as complete and utter carnage. Hydra casualties lie strewn about the room, not one soul left spared, pools of blood seeping into the cracked tile. Some of the bodies look peaceful, like they barely put up a fight, as if they’d known all along what they were doing was wrong and were accepting punishment. Others lay in crooked angles, their skin sliced and battered, bones crumpled, the horror in their lifeless eyes nothing compared to what’s coursing through your body.
And in the middle of it all stands the younger illusion of you, half-dressed and drenched head to toe in blood that isn’t yours. Your body is riddled with gunshot wounds, and after a beat, the bullets clang softly to the ground as your accelerated healing pushes them from your skin, the wounds stitching themselves back together in a way that looks painful. The scene is a brutal, sickening mess of viscera. Yet, the most unnerving is your countenance, bone-chilling and completely apathetic.
And then, past-you bursts into tears without warning, falling to your knees on the bloodied ground in utter relief.
John’s heart feels as though it’s about to beat right out of his chest, the memory holding more brutality than anything he’s ever seen in his life. There’s a sick sense of satisfaction that washes over him, knowing those scum had been dealt with in such a merciless fashion, but the fact that you were the one to send them to their maker is difficult to grasp. His hand clasped over yours stays firm, still trying to provide you some sort of comfort, his eyes flicking back to the real you.
A beat passes before John finds the courage to speak. He clears his throat, muttering, “Is…this… real?” He has to ask, he has to know how much of it did, in fact, really happen. It might have been a lifetime ago for you, but for John, it was brand new.
You regard the past version of yourself blankly, your body trembling. Your brain is overwhelmed with the flood of emotions you’re reliving thanks to the illusion, and it’s all-consuming, just as raw as the day it happened. Your eyes are still glued on your past self, unable to spare yourself from the sight.
“I lived this,” you finally say, struggling to find a decent explanation, your voice coming out as a hoarse whisper. Your hold on his arm slackens, but you still don’t release him altogether. “I’d been Hydra’s lab rat for decades at that point.” You don’t notice the way you absentmindedly lean into his side as you steady your breathing, the image of the bloodbath and your visceral reaction to it still playing in your head like it was only yesterday.
Walker’s entire being shudders when you make yourself comfortable at his side, but he manages to keep himself stable, staring down at you. This is so much worse than he could have ever imagined. He knew you’d been Hydra at one point, that bad things had happened to you, but he never knew the severity of the situation, the horrors that you had to undergo. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, both to give you security and to steady you beside him. He’s having a tough time processing what just happened, but this isn’t his shame to carry.
“Let’s get you out of here, before it—“ Before it starts again.
You let Walker pull you in and press you against his side, still trembling, but the foreign comfort from him grounds you in the current moment, away from the horrors of your past. You suck a deep breath in as you finally force yourself away from the display in front of you, giving yourself a reprieve from watching your trauma unfold.
“...Yeah,” you mutter, the utterance shaky. You give one last glance at your past self, tears streaming down your cheeks and cutting through the blood on your face, looking so small surrounded by the carnage. “Let’s go.”
John’s mind is clouded, overwhelmed from witnessing a memory so horrifying and personal, but he tries to push it all aside as he guides you out of the shame room. He keeps his arm securely around your shoulders, just making sure you don’t stumble or go completely limp. He tells himself it’s all for your sake, not his own discomfort, that he needs to keep his brain focused on moving because he isn’t sure he can take another room like that one.
The pair find their way out eventually, crashing through a wall and right into Bob’s attic with the rest of The Thunderbolts. You’re more stable by then and break away from John’s hold before anyone else can notice your uncharacteristic closeness. As a team, they manage to squash Bob’s demons, settling The Void within him, the lot of them embracing each other in a mess of limbs as they fall back into the disrupted streets of New York, like nothing had ever happened.
It’s a whirlwind from there. Valentina luring them in front of the press and announcing them as the New Avengers, all while you and John orbit each other cautiously, never quite addressing what you’d witnessed together in The Void.
warning : emotional, fluff, kiss, hurt/comfort, wounds (blood), no use of Y/n
Summary : It is one thing when you don't concentrate, it's another when you let yourself get hurt to deal with your own pain. John finds himself in dark places from time to time, which is especially evident after the last mission, but the soldier wants to go through it alone. Yet his girlfriend is there to help him no matter how long it takes, they would make it together.
info : Finally another fluffy hurt/comfort for John, he just needs a makeover and now have fun reading :)
masterlist
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sirens of the fire engines and ambulances could still be heard, the explosions and gunfire seemed to be ringing in everyone's ears.
What had started out as a nice morning of fun, breakfast together and a good cuddle with John at her side, who could finally sleep in a little, had turned into an emergency call shortly after bread, muesli, fruit and coffee.
An emergency call that the Thunderbolts had of course responded to, a mission in which there were no injuries, everyone came out of it unscathed, civilians cheered and the television reported.
With Ava's help the explosion shrunk to a level where it could do no harm, the rest were little more than training...or so it should have been.
Even if her her pistols were accurate and she and Yelena moved forward in the shadows. They all did their best to do good, to do justice and to somehow maybe turn out to be really good.
They all had dark pasts, they all carried pain and mistakes, but seeing the smiles and relief of the people when the heroes came out, along with their sense of family, was perhaps the forgiveness they all needed.
But one look to her side, one look to her partner, her shield of all shields and her boyfriend let her know that John didn't seem to feel any of that forgiveness.
The moment they went back into the helicopter, which was less out of place in the city than the jet, she saw that something was bothering John, that his fixed gaze and tense posture had not ceased.
A complete contrast to the sleepy, friendly man in whose arms she had lain in the morning, whose bright eyes were filled with love and joy and whose posture was relaxed seemed no more.
The rotor blades spun faster and faster and the team took off, sitting down next to John, after a moment she let her hand rest on his, “Are you all right?” her question as quietly as she could so that he could still hear her despite the loud vehicle.
The others were chatting animatedly so she and John had as much time as they could for each other in the vehicle, “Yeah, don't worry,” he replied short, looking from his still bent shield to her.
A small smile might be a good lie, but the look in his eyes as his lostness met her unsureness, she knew somethin was wrong.
But she knew John just as well and knew that the former soldier wouldn't just open up like that, he was a soldier, he wasn't allowed to have emotions, at least that's what he had said himself until recently.
John had fought in wars, he had been deployed and he had obeyed orders, but what was going on inside him had never played a role in his preconceptions.
Only when the new Captain America did something 'wrong', something that was overwhelmed by emotions and distation...but now?
What was it that was bothering him?
A question she didn't know how to answer, the many attempts she made to calm him down, to make him realize that he could tell her, were blocked and at the latest when he turned to his shield and his bright eyes didn't look away from it, she knew it was useless.
Placing her hand on his one last time, she moved away from him to give him space for the rest of the flight.
Turning to her friends and joining in the discussion, she gave John a few more glances before she let the soldier be a soldier and stood back.
Because even if it hurt her, even if she knew how hard everything was, he would talk when he was ready warm John was an adult but sometimes he seemed to have the stubborn silence of a child.
A fact that the others in the tower also noticed at the latest when John retreated wordlessly and more sullenly than usual to his room, “I don't know what's wrong with him, since the mission, he's been like this,” she said and only a short moment later felt Alexei's hand on her shoulder.
The older man had a surprisingly understanding look on his face as he said empathetically, “Sometimes a man has to be alone to fight his own battles,” and Bucky only gave a short nod, they both knew what they were talking about, they had learned what it meant to be a soldier themselves.
But Yelena's shaking head and Ava's incomprehension held against it, “That's all well and good, but he should still talk to you, you're his girlfriend and not since yesterday,” Yelena argued, putting her hand on the other shoulder and Ava nodded in agreement.
Before any of them could fall into the group, they heard a quiet, “Well, I'd just talk to him again in the evening,” from Bob, who had been listening to all this on the couch and took a sip of his milkshake before continuing to dry the cutlery he had spent his time with before the mission.
Giving her friend a grateful look and spending some more time with them so as not to worry too much about John, she went about her day as best she could.
She tried to distract herself, not to read too much into it, but how could she not?
She was his friend, at the latest in the evening they would sleep in the same bed and meet again, she wished to have her John back but just as she had her dark days she would not run away.
She was an agent, she had done and overcome so many battles and missions she would not leave John behind, which is why she waited until dinner.
The meal where they all sat and ate together, talking about the day, what they had done and how the day had just passed.
What was normally a pleasant time, everyone knew something was wrong when John didn't show up, a former family man who made a point of eating in the evening, but as the minutes passed, everyone knew something wasn't right.
Taking one bite after another without a word, her worry continued to grow, even the worried looks from the others didn't help to reassure her that everything would be alright.
Which is why, towards the end of the meal, she was grateful to feel Bob's embrace before the rest of them murmured in one voice, “It'll go over, don't worry so much,” Bucky said before wishing the others a good night and the rest of the team retired for the night.
After she had stayed in the living room for a few more minutes but John still hadn't shown himself, she gave up with a sigh and retired to her room, lying alone in bed, alone in the actual double bed that had room for John on the other side.
She didn't feel an amorous look on her face as she slipped into something more comfortable and she didn't feel a hand brush along her thigh as she moved under the covers.
John wasn't there, her worry too great and every time she closed her eyes it only seemed to get worse I just wanted to help you she heard her thoughts as she opened her eyes again and sat up.
With a jerk, she pushed aside the covers and quietly walked out of her room, knowing that she had to be there for John now.
A quick question to the tower's ai system let her know that John hadn't left the building since they got back and with another question she now knew that the only room still in use was the training room one floor below her.
Getting into the elevator and pressing the button for the floor below her, she felt the uneasy feeling in her stomach, her heart beating faster than usual.
It wasn't a normal argument, something was bothering him that he didn't even seem angry, at least he didn't take his anger out on her or the others He still cares about us she thought to herself, not letting go of her hope.
In the past he would have snapped at the others when he was angry to get his temper out but now, no, he tried to snap at his more, at least not without reason.
She kept her gaze straight ahead as the silver doors opened and she stepped out, hearing muffled thuds, glancing through the glass panes that revealed the room she saw John standing in front of a punching bag in the darkened room.
Carefully opening the door, she slowly stepped towards him, “John” she said his name and stopped a few meters away from him.
Even in the darkened light, she saw how his t-shirt stuck to him, how sweat ran down his face, how his arms seemed to tremble slightly with every lunge and she realized with concern that he had probably been training for hours.
He normaly trained for several hours but never to the point of this exhaustion, “John...it's late, do you want to come to bed?” she dared to ask, and he didn't answer, besides the hurried breathing and repeated thuds he made with his bare hands on the punching bag.
It seemed to be the only thing between them, as if he didn't hear her at all, as if he was blocking her out, as if he was losing himself in himself.
She made up her mind as she walked the last few meters and said louder, “Jonathan! Would you please talk to me?” and a loud bang rang through the room as he knocked the punching bag off the chain with a grunt and such a strong blow that it flew several meters across the floor with an open dent.
Startled, she remained in her position, her hand only a few centimeters away from his when he finally turned to face her and his blue eyes finally looked into hers.
“John-I just want to help you, you've been avoiding me and the others for hours, lashing out and hurting yourself. What are you doing?” she demanded with every word, finding her courage and worry again as she pointed at him with her hand.
Pointing to his bloodshot eyes, the sweat dripping from him, his unsteady stance before she reached for his hand, blood dripping from the unprotected blows on the equipment.
“John, what is-” her question stopped when his hand suddenly went to her cheek, for a moment she thought he was going to grab her neck, he was going to attack her, he was going to hurt what was most important to him.
But when she felt the trembling, the warmth emanating from him, she saw the guilt, saw the fear and the uncertainty, “I had to think about nothing again, I could have been better...you almost got hurt,” he confessed and the last thing surprised her.
The mission had gone well, he had done excellently, what could he have done better?
Carefully taking his hand in hers and trying not to touch the torn and bleeding knuckles he seemed to have seen her questioning look.
“John it doesn't matter which mission or when we are all reminded of the worst but no one has been hurt. We're all back safe, the civilians are safe...we're both safe,” she tried and gave him a gentle kiss on the inside of his hand.
The faint smile was little consolation, but when he let go of her hand and took off his T-shirt, her expression was one of horror.
John had a stab wound in his shoulder that was not even properly bandaged, but due to the lack of proper first aid, it looked much worse and bloodier than it should have.
“He snuck up on me, my shield was protecting you and I wasn't fast enough, which is why I took the attack like that,” he gave the cure and looked ashamed as she led him to the bench and ordered him to sit down.
He came to terms with the matter too, there seemed little of his pride left at that moment, he seemed exhausted, tired and lost, “That was brave, proud and stupid John...but you protected me, you did what a hero would do, do you hear me?” she asked, holding his face gently with her hands.
There was honesty in her gaze and she saw how something slowly stirred in him, how her words changed his mind, how they gave him back the support he needed.
When he gently leaned his forehead against hers and they both closed their eyes, just holding each other for a brief moment, she knew that John was calm again, at least for that night, that when she felt the grateful, gentle kiss and the hands wrapped around her, he was pulling her close.
His head against her chest, listening to her heartbeat for a moment, just a moment of peace as she heard the words, “Thank you dear” before he released her so she could fetch the first aid kit.
When she stayed in the doorway for a moment and glanced at him, he sat tighter, less slumped, still exhausted, but the look John gave her let her know that her beloved U.S. agent was back, that she had her heart back.
That John would snuggle up to her again tonight instead of losing himself in the darkness. They were finally there for each other again.
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