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theonewiththefanfics · 17 days ago

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Peace in the Darkness (one-shot)

Synopsis: Bob knows Y/N isn't one to go back on her words. So when she doesn't show up to go through with their plans, he starts to worry. Luckily for him, Yelena knows how to break-and-enter. And doesn't mind invading her personal space.

Pairing: Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x fem!Reader (ex-Black Widow)

Genre: fluff, lil bit of angst

Warnings: sickness because I've been sick this past weekend and life sucked, swearing, Bob being an anxious little bean, alluding to violence, but nothing else, really :)

Word count: 6623

All characters belong to Marvel. Also - Bob has my heart

If Bob paced any more behind Y/N’s door, he was sure to wear a track into the concrete floor.

His hand had hovered over the panel separating him from whatever lay beyond, about twenty times in the past hour or so, yet just as his knuckles were about to meet it, he pulled back with a shake of his head and began his pacing once more.

“I should just knock,” the man muttered to himself, blue eyes warily watching the door, hoping it would creak open without his interference, but alas, it remained as immovable as it had always been. “She’s not gonna mind. You’ve woken her up in the middle of the night before, and she wasn’t angry then. She won’t be angry with you.”

And even still with those thoughts in his mind, Bob couldn’t get himself to do it, his anxiety overriding his motor skills.

It wasn’t that he was incapable of action. He was. It was more so getting to the action where he faltered. His therapist, someone Bucky had helped him find, had told him even two steps forward and one step back was still a step forward.

Like the first time he’d reached out for help after a nightmare, where he could feel the Void curling inside him, just waiting until his emotions reached a bubbling point so he could take over.

“What did you do?” the therapist, a take-no-bullshit kind of woman, had asked. “To stop the Void from emerging?”

Bob shrugged, knee bouncing up and down, not daring to make eye contact. “I uh – I went to Y/N. I just… I heard she was still awake and knew if the Void was gonna come out, someone had to… You know… be aware and take me – him – down.”

“And who is Y/N?”

Now that was a loaded question he wasn’t fully yet ready to answer, so he settled on the objective truth. “She’s my teammate. We live across the hall from one another.”

“And how did she help?”

“She…” Bob bit down on his lip. “She invited me inside her room and we just… talked. She had some music playing… I – I guess she helped me take my mind off it all and… stuff…”

The woman hummed. “And why was she the first person you thought to go to when things got bad?”

He wanted to say it was because she was the closest one to him, physically being right down the hall, that they were the only two people occupying the floor, but the truth spilt out before he could even contain it, “Because I knew she wouldn’t be mad at me. If – if I woke her up. She… she wouldn’t be upset I was there.” Because she was one of the few people who wasn’t afraid to touch him, despite his powers and the Void.

But just because she hadn’t been upset with him those few times he’d sought her out, didn’t mean she wouldn’t be angry with him that specific day. Otherwise, why hadn’t she stuck to her promise?

The previous week, right before Y/N had been shipped out to Malaga on a mission, she’d promised him that once she was back, the two would go to a bookstore together, Bob’s supply already dangerously low.

Now, though, three hours had passed from the time they’d set last night, and Y/N was nowhere to be seen.

He’d let the first hour pass by, thinking maybe she had to catch up on some paperwork the team had to file after a mission. When hour two had come and gone, Bob had started to become anxious, but still, he told himself she was probably just resting, no doubt exhausted by the mission, and he would never be one to take away time she could be using to heal. But as hour three had started to roll, Bob couldn’t help the nervousness entering his body, and that was how he ended up behind Y/N’s door.

Gently, he placed an ear against it, hoping to hear the slightest sound, maybe a soft movement of her feet padding against the carpeted floor, but the only noise invading the silence was the echo of his heartbeat.

Bob sighed, head hanging low and fingers plucking at the hem of one of his sleeves as he turned around, ready to go back and wallow in self-pity, when Yelena’s raspy voice made him look over his shoulder.

“Bobik? Everything alright?” she asked, the nickname Alexei had bestowed upon him, making warmth bloom in his chest. Not ‘Bobby’, a name that made him flinch, but a soft ‘Bobik’, a name that made him feel cherished.

The blonde was decked out in her combat gear, clearly just having arrived from a mission, so the fact that one of her first instincts was to check in on him made his body flush. He was still trying to get used to the fact that people actually cared about him, not as an experimental subject, not as a wannabe superhero, but just about him. About Bob.

“Oh, yeah,” he stammered, giving Yelena a tight-lipped smile, but he couldn’t control the way his hands wrung together, betraying the anxiousness he was feeling. “Everything’s A-Okay.”

For a second neither of them moved or said anything, and just as Bob was about to venture down to his room, Yelena crossed her arms, cocking her hip to the side and raising a single brow.

All he could do was sigh. She was one of the few people it was hard to lie to, whom he didn’t even really want to lie to. “It’s just that… umm… Y/N and I were supposed to go to a bookstore a while ago, but she uh… well, I haven’t seen her all day… and when I asked around, nobody else has either. Ava even said she didn’t come up for breakfast, and she wasn’t in the kitchen for lunch, so…”

“That does not sound like her.” Yelena’s nose scrunched as she went closer and knocked against Y/N’s door, a motion that came so easily to her, yet Bob had struggled for ages to even lift his hand. “Lubov moya,” she sing-songed in Russian. “Are you in there?”

And once again, only silence responded. As the moment stretched, Bob slowly started to roll back and forth on his feet. God, why hadn’t he thought about how she could already have left the tower ages ago!

But no, it wouldn’t be like Y/N to just leave him hanging or not let at least one person know where she was.

Unless… unless she’d gone out to do something she didn’t want the others to know about… to tease her about… like maybe she’d gone on a date.

“It’s – it’s alright,” Bob let out a strangled chuckle, as thoughts whirled inside his head. “She just probably forgot about it, or something more important came up.”

But the ex-Widow just knocked again, ignoring Bob’s spiralling. “Legushka?” she called out, the nickname rolling off her tongue with a concerned yet teasing lilt.

There’d been this one time John had called Y/N that, snorting as Alexei had translated the meaning of the word (froggy or little frog), and where usually she’d respond with an eye roll to Yelena or their sort-of-kind-of adoptive father figure, Walker received a bloody nose and grade-two concussion.

Only Yelena had the privilege of calling her fellow ex-Red Room alumni such absurd names without any consequences. And, well, sometimes Bob could too, but he wrote it off on the fact that Y/N just tried to make him feel included, and no other reason…

“Snookums? My little pookie-wookie?” Now, Yelena was just making things up as she went, no doubt hoping to get at least some sort of a response from Y/N, but when even that didn’t accomplish anything, with a grumbled, “alright, fine, be that way,” she crouched down, pulling out a picking set from her boot.

Bob’s eyes widened in alarm, hissing at the woman, “What are you doing? Don’t do that!”

“Well, we have to get in somehow,” Yelena just shrugged, the noise of metal softly scraping against metal invading his senses.

“Not by breaking and entering Y/N’s room!”

The blonde let out a squeak of indignation. “I am not breaking and entering!” The lock clicked open. “For one – I didn’t break shit. And two – the door is open. Now it’s just entering.”

“She is going to kill us, and I will not be coming to your rescue.”

“Please,” Yelena replaced her picking tools back inside her boot. “We have too much history between us in the Red Room for her to decide this is the final drop. As for you…” Yelena smirked. “Let’s just say, I know things you don’t.”

“Wait, what? What do you know? What things?”

But she didn’t respond, only opened the door.

Bob wanted to protest, wanted to say they shouldn’t be invading Y/N’s private space like that, wanted to shake Yelena down for whatever information she might possess. If it had anything to do with feelings he hoped Y/N might have for him. That most likely, there was a reason she wasn’t answering, even if she was there, and that most likely, she just felt bad about not wanting to hang out with him, but didn’t want to hurt his feelings by saying so, which he was totally fine and cool with and –

Yelena poked her head inside, and where usually, Y/N’s place was brightly lit by the daylight, her curtains drawn back to allow it to be illuminated, pure darkness greeted them, as Bob, shame curling in his stomach at such invasion, peered over Yelena’s head to take a glance.

He associated Y/N’s room with peace.

Cream colored walls, dark brown curtains with a plush carpet, emerald settees resting atop it and a large bookshelf taking up a whole wall with softly glowing nightlights in the shape of sprouting mushrooms would be plugged in during the night, and plastic glow-in-the-dark stars creating real and made-up constellations on the ceiling – that was the space he considered his true home.

Every free inch was covered in some knick-knack or a souvenir, as she had a tendency to collect small things, but she also had a tendency to gift them to others.

She was kind. Caring. Thoughtful. She was Bob’s safe place.

Yet now it was pitch black inside.

Yelena was clearly just as worried as he was, because when she looked up from her still crouched position, confusion marred her face.

“Malishka?” she called out as she stood, slowly entering the room, Bob following as their eyes adjusted to the lack of lighting.

He shifted his gaze around only to settle on a large moving mound on the bed, so with Yelena as the lead, they moved towards it, when finally a voice rasped from somewhere beneath the ungodly amount of blankets. “Malishka is dead. Come back tomorrow with a warrant. Or a casket.”

Every single doubt that’d permeated Bob’s mind vanished at the realisation of what was really going on.

Y/N hadn’t forgotten about the plans they’d made. She hadn’t found something better to do with her time or decided he was simply not worth her while.

Y/N was sick.

And by the sound of it, badly.

Bob’s heart clenched at the thought. They all seemed so indestructible, but it was moments like those, where he was reminded that some of them, especially Yelena and Y/N – the two people he’d grown to care most about in the weird little team he was a part of – were simply humans. And humans could get ill.

Gently, Yelena sat down on the side of the bed, her fingers rooting around the coverings before an opening was made, a pair of Y/E/C eyes squinting at the intruders. “Can you please close the door? My eyeballs hurt.”

“Oh, shit!” Bob cursed softly, padding to the door and closing it, once again plunging the room into complete darkness. “Sorry.”

He wanted to rebel against the black that now surrounded them, he wanted to panic and spiral, to have at least one of those nightlights be turned on, but somehow, through a sheer sense of will, he steeled himself against the rising tide. Whether it was because he knew light would hurt Y/N, or whether it was because he felt safe with the two women, despite not really being able to see anything that wasn’t an inch away from his face, Bob couldn’t tell. Well… he could, but he wasn’t going to say it out loud, because that would make things real…

“Can you please breathe quieter, Lena?” Y/N groaned from her cocoon. “My head’s pounding as is.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Yelena cooed, placing the back of her hand against the other woman’s forehead to feel for her temperature. “I think you might have the flu, huh?”

Y/N sniffled. “I dunno what I have, but whatever it is, I blame Walker.”

Bob looked at Yelena, the man still hovering by the bedside table, not wanting to invade the space between the two. “Has John been sick?”

“Not that I’m aware.” Yelena ghosted her hand over Y/N’s cheek before standing up and going to what he knew to be the bathroom. After a quick second, she returned with a wet cloth, laying it over her friend’s forehead. “But we can always blame him.”

A delirious smile appeared on Y/N’s face. “We can, can’t we?”

“Of course.” Yelena nodded. “Would it make you feel better if I went and beat him up?”

“I think it would, yeah… Can you stab him too?” Y/N asked as an afterthought.

“Anything for you, legushka moya.” Yelena brushed a sweaty Y/H/C strand from where it’d plastered itself down against her cheek. Bob’s heart ached at the tender motion, fingers twitching at his side with the want to do the same, but he restrained himself. “But tell you what, before I go and seek revenge on Walker, how about I go and make you some soup, and Bob will keep you company. Sound okay?”

Instantly, it was like someone had turned the light switch off, Y/N’s smile dropped, and she harrumphed. “Bob can stay, but no soup.”

“Soup always makes everything better! Besides, Bob said you didn’t go to breakfast or lunch. You have to get something in you,” Yelena scolded the woman. Despite them being barely a month apart, she acted like an older sister to Y/N.

The sick girl just whined. “I’m not hungry. I’m achy and icky and gross, and I just wanna rot away in my bed.”

“Well, you need to get food in you,” the ex-Widow countered, hands on her hips. “Do not move. I will be right back. Bob, please keep an eye on her.”

“As if I could go anywhere,” Y/N scoffed, but it fell only on Bob’s ears, as Yelena had already made her exit.

On instinct, his fingers started fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, a nervousness taking over his body. After a moment of unsurety of what exactly he was supposed to do, a croaky voice whispered, “You should go, Bob. I know Lena said to stay, but I don’t want you to catch whatever wasting disease I have."

An involuntary smile blossomed on his lips at her care about his well-being, despite being so sick herself. “I uh, I don’t think I can get sick anymore, so no worries there.”

He noted the small frown on Y/N’s lips as she eyed him up and down. “Show off,” she muttered, but didn’t tell him to leave again, rather said, “ ‘M sorry about today, by the way. Should’ve at least gotten out of bed and told you I wasn’t fit to walk in civilised society. I’m sorry if I worried you.”

“No!” he said, trying to quell her guilt, sitting down onto the bed, and to his own surprise, brushing a finger down her cheek without even thinking. “No, no, no… you’re not feeling well, so don’t even worry about me. I’m just glad that, you know, you’re not bleeding out on the bathroom floor or something.”

Bob’s whole being lit up when, despite Y/N being evidently unwell, she snorted, no doubt remembering how about a month prior when she’d returned to the Watchtower after a mission, she’d pretty much traumatized both Bob and John, as they’d found her half-dead on the kitchen floor, munching on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, blood pooling around her at a rapid pace.

“Seriously!?” John had scoffed as he helped Bob lift Y/N up from the floor, the two men supporting as much of her weight as possible as they dragged her to the elevator and then to the med-floor. “PB&J? That was gonna be your last meal?”

“Hey!” Y/N protested. “It was the only thing I could manage to make before the wooziness set in. You know, from having been turned into a walking-talking shishkabob.” She chuckled deliriously, looking at the man who had the biggest crush on her in the world, yet she didn’t even know about it, and now she could potentially die. “Huh. Shish-ka-Bob.” Then she booped his nose and promptly passed out.

Safe to say, he’d spent the next few days hovering in the med-bay, and when Y/N had been discharged, off-missions for a while, but allowed to rest in her room, he’d hovered in the hallway behind her door, just to make sure the things he saw during his nightmares, the images that the Void tried to tell him were real, actually weren’t.

But Y/N didn’t know that.

She didn’t know the true extent of what went on inside Bob’s mind or heart, didn’t know the real depth of the feelings he had for her.

She didn’t know how much the nights she allowed him to spend in her room meant to him.

She didn’t know how much the little trinkets she brought back for him as a souvenir from whichever corner of the world she’d been sent to, mattered.

She didn’t know that if the tower suddenly caught on fire and he could only save three things, he’d rush inside the flames to take the three little cat figurines sitting on his shelf.

It had been after she’d returned from a solo mission in Japan, Bob having pretty much worried himself sick, only to have her bound up to him, still dirt-covered and bloodied, but the smile on her face was as bright as the morning sun. “Look!” She presented the white, red and gold porcelain cats. “It’s the three of us! Me, you and Lena! They’re so cute!”

That night, he’d fallen asleep with the three little waving felines looking over him, golden night-light illuminating the statuettes.

So, in a moment like this, where Y/N was the one who needed support, he could only hope and pray, she felt it from him.

Gently, Bob brushed a palm against her forehead, taking off the wet towel that’d now warmed up to her skin temperature. But he hadn’t anticipated that, despite being bogged down by most likely the flu, her reflexes were still Black-Widow-quick, as her hand shot out from underneath the blankets, grabbing onto his wrist and pressing his hand against the skin of her neck. “Oh, you are so warm,” she sighed, cuddling the appendage.

“S-so are you!” Bob didn’t necessarily know what to do. “Alarmingly so, actually.”

“Yeah,” Y/N puffed a breath, still not releasing the death-grip she had on his hand. “That’s probably the 103 fever I have going on.”

Instantly, his anxiety skyrocketed.

He knew he ran warm. He pretty much always had the AC on in his room, especially at night, as he was a complete contradiction of a human – he was abysmally hot all the time, mainly thanks to the Sentry serum, but he was most comfortable in a sweater and sweatpants while swaddled up like a burrito in a blanket.

His heart thudded in his chest as Y/N snuggled closer to his touch, while he worried he was doing her harm. Yes, a fever was the body’s natural way of fighting off viruses or infections and whatnot, but a too high a fever was also dangerous, and he'd never forgive himself if he made it worse.

“Y/N, you’re really burning up.” Bob chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Can you please let me go? Just for a second,” he added on, as she whined when he tried to slip his hand away. “I’m just gonna get you a new cold compress. Please…”

“But I don’t want you to leave!”

“I’m – I’m not gonna leave,” he whispered, terrified that if his voice was any louder, any clearer, she might pick up on the emotion he was trying to suppress. “I promise, it’ll be just a second. I won’t even go outside the room.”

For a moment, Y/N’s grip tightened on Bob, holding him closer than ever, but then, with a sigh of defeat, she released him.

He was quick, just like he said he would. Even in pure darkness, his eyes having adjusted to the lack of light now, probably thanks to the Sentry serum, he dampened the cloth with cold water and wrung out the excess, getting back to her, in the time it took for Y/N to shift from lying on her side to being on her back.

She’d somewhat untangled herself from the cocoon of blankets, and Bob had to stop mid-step as he noted what she was wearing.

It was his sweater. Well, one of the many he had, but it was something of his nonetheless.

And he could physically feel how something broken and cracked inside him got stitched together. Some deep, still-hurting part of Bob, that always managed to whisper a negative thought, how he didn’t matter, how washing the dishes and doing the chores was nothing compared to what everyone else in the tower did, fused back together, the Void’s incessant noise quietening. With just a simple glance at Y/N, who had found comfort in something of his when she was feeling bad, Bob felt a part of him heal.

He didn’t comment on it, though, half-terrified if he did, she might think he was mad about it, when in reality it was the complete opposite. And an insatiable need had now settled somewhere in his chest, a want to see her in all of his clothes. And maybe nothing as well…

“H-here,” Bob stammered out, before taking a deep breath and sinking down next to Y/N on the bed. Gently, he placed the towel along her forehead, and he couldn’t help himself as his thumb brushed along her jawline, tracing a small scar, no doubt from some mission. She leaned into his touch like a sunflower leaned towards the sun. “Is there anything I can get you?”

“No,” she shook her head, and this time, when her hand met his, she intertwined their fingers, as if afraid he might disappear. “Just stay, please.”

“Always.”

And there really wasn’t anywhere else Bob wanted to be.

The thought of spending the day at a bookstore, some ungodly sweet concoction that resembled a coffee only in spirit, in his hand, was only appealing because he would be going with Y/N there.

“We’ll go when I get better, I promise,” she muttered, as if having read his mind while snuggling closer to the palm he’d placed on her cheek.

“Books can wait.” Bob hoped his voice was low and soothing as he spoke, blue eyes still trained on the sweater that covered her body, his own feeling all fuzzy at the image. “Just rest.”

When he didn’t get a response or even a little hum of acknowledgement, he looked up only to find Y/N’s features slack with sleep, her chest rising in slow and steady breaths.

Bob wanted to curl up next to her, to have his hands wrap around her waist, and have her head rest on his chest as he buried his nose into her hair, because this was the highest degree of trust anyone could have in him. For Y/N to find peace and safety with him while she was in such a vulnerable state, catapulted Bob onto Cloud Nine. He knew darkness would always try to press in, try to find the cracks and strike when he was unawares, but this time he wasn’t afraid of what might be lurking in the shadows. Not when he knew he would have to be the one to step up, if only to protect the one he loved most in the world.

He sat there like that, entranced with the sleeping beauty on the bed, a thumb softly grazing her cheek, making sure Y/N was as comfortable as possible. He was so attuned to her and her sleeping form, that when the door cracked open, he was startled by Yelena coming in, a tray in her hands as she blew on a steaming bowl of soup.

“Okay,” once more the blonde sing-songed as she walked inside the room. “I have chicken-noodle soup for our little sick-bug.”

There was some grumbling from Y/N as she was brought out from her slumber, but despite all her protests, she rose into a sitting position, Bob’s hand on her back a steady help. She eyed the bowl with suspicion. “Who made it?”

“Do not worry, Dad was nowhere near the pot. He might be lurking for the leftovers now, but this!” She lifted the bowl above her head like it was a diamond, “is all from yours truly.”

Y/N sniffed the air. “Well, I guess it smells edible… not that I can smell much.”

“Then this is exactly what you need.” Yelena slid the tray to rest on Y/N’s knees while Bob helped her adjust against the backboard of the bed and was rewarded with the most gorgeous smile ever. “Here you go, legushka. Now, I’ll go get some paracetamol and VapoRub, and by the time I get back, I expect that bowl to be empty. It will do wonders for your sinuses, trust me.”

She didn’t argue, just let out a resigned sigh and nodded, taking the spoon in her hand. “You know, back in the Red Room, Mistress Vera said the best kind of medicine is a good beating. Will get you right back on your feet.”

“Yes, well, that is why Mistress Vera is six feet under.” Yelena fluffed up a pillow behind Y/N before nudging her chin up with a finger. “As is the whole of Red Room.”

“I mean right now, I think I’d rather get a good beat-“

“Eat,” Yelena interrupted whatever she was about to say.

“Fine, fine, Jesus…. You’re worse than Mistress Vera…”

Slowly, without moving her gaze from Y/N, Yelena stood to hover over her. Even Bob could feel the menacing aura she exuded – an older sister ready to torment her younger one. “And if you don’t eat every single noodle, every single piece of carrot and celery and chicken, you will be wishing Mistress Vera were here. Understood? Legushka moya?”

Though Y/N was bleary and tired, she was unwavering as the two Black Widows engaged in a stare-off. Unfortunately for her, though, she was the first one to break, as she rubbed at her teary eyes, probably because of the light that was filtering into the room from the open doorway.

“Damn it, Lena, fine! I’ll eat the stupid soup!”

“Good.” The blonde straightened out, a self-satisfied smile on her face. “Because Bob will tell me if you don’t. Won’t you, Bobik?”

His eyes turned so wide he was afraid they might fall out of his head.

God.

Oh god no.

He was stuck between a rock and a hard place as Y/N glowered from below her lashes, sniffling, while Yelena cocked her head to the side.

Ultimately, though, his loyalty to the blonde and wanting nothing but the best for the well-being of the woman he was in love with, no matter what she might say to counter the effectiveness of the soup, won out. “Yeah. I – I will.”

Y/N scoffed, turning her head away from him as Yelena pressed a triumphant kiss to the top of her hair before leaving.

“Traitor,” she muttered.

Bob looked down at his hands, which he had resting in his lap as he worried the inside of his cheek. “I just want you to get better, Y/N…”

“And I just wanna lie down and die, but neither of you is letting me.”

“But who’s gonna go to the bookstore with me if you die?” He gave her a small smile, hoping to elevate her sour mood.

“I dunno, John?”

Bob gave her a look, their gazes meeting. “You actually think John can read?”

If Y/N had been eating the soup, no doubt she would’ve choked with how she threw her head back in a loud laugh, as Bob tried to steady the tray, the broth sloshing a bit out of the bowl.

“I’m sorry,” she chuckled, their fingers brushing as she held the platter and pulled it closer. “Didn’t mean to make a mess.”

“Don’t be.” The smile on his face was probably ridiculous, wide enough to make his cheeks hurt. “Laughter’s the best medicine or uh… something along those lines.”

“You should tell Mistress Vera that. Might have to use a OUIJA board though.” Y/N winced as the hot liquid slid down her sore throat, slowly chewing on a piece of noodle.

Admittedly, Bob didn’t know much about her time in the Red Room. He’d seen her shame rooms, just like he’d been privy to Yelena’s and the rest of the Thunderbolts’, as she’d been there when the Void had attacked New York, but once he came out of it, once they told him what he’d done, the feeling of having violated their privacy… he never asked either of them to talk about their time there.

All Bob knew was that Mistress Vera had been Y/N’s handler, as she’d been trained separately from Yelena and her sister Natasha. Only after the original Avenger had broken her out of the trance induced by the mind-control serum used to keep the Black Widows under the Red Room spell, did Y/N join the two in helping them take down the organisation.

“Oh… oh shit, I’m sorry,” her words of apology brought him back to the present, away from the thoughts of what she’d had to go through as a child, where a sore throat wouldn’t have been healed by a gentle touch, but a brutal beating.

His brows furrowed as he looked around, thinking she might’ve spilt the soup, but there wasn’t anything there. “Whatever for?”

“The dark!” she said, like it was a crime she’d committed. “Bob, you can put in some of the nightlights. They’re by the plugs.”

“Oh, that’s…” He shook his head, for once happy to be surrounded by mostly shadows because that meant Y/N couldn’t see the furious blush covering his face, while his longish hair obscured his smiling features as he glanced down at his hands. “It’s okay. I don’t mind actually.”

“But you don’t like the dark…?” The sentence was more of a question than the solid statement it used to be.

Bob shrugged, pulling down the sleeves of his sweater. “This isn’t that bad… and if it helps you feel better, your eyes to not hurt, I don’t mind.”

“I don’t want you to ‘not mind’ things. Bob, if you’re uncomfortable, you should put in at least one nightlight. Seriously. They’re not gonna boil out of my skull or something.”

“My comfort isn’t as important as your health right now.” He shifted on the bed.

“Of course it is!” The offended squeak Y/N let out would have made him smile, had it not turned into a violent coughing fit.

After she was done hacking her lungs up, Bob’s hand running up and down her spine, hoping to at least somewhat soothe the ache, he lifted the warm bowl of soup closer to her. “Eat. Or I will tell on you to Yelena.”

“Stukach,” Y/N mumbled in Russian, glaring at him as best as she could. Alexei and Yelena had introduced him enough to the language (mostly swearwords, which they said were the most important words) for him to understand she’d called him a snitch, but if being a snitch would motivate her to eat and get better, so be it.

With a fond gaze, he watched as she finally got some food into her, and once she was done, he took the tray away, placing it on the nightstand, a hand of his acting on its own accord as he brushed a finger along her cheek. “Better?”

“Yes. But don’t tell Lena that. She’ll just be insufferably smug about it.”

Shaking his head, Bob helped Y/N settle back into bed, tucking the blanket under her chin, but before he could even move a foot, her hand shot out, curling around his wrist once more.

“Bob?”

“Yeah?” He looked where the woman lay against the plush pillows, head slowly sinking deeper into the down.

“Could you… umm… and that is only if you really can’t get sick… could you maybe stay with me? Just until I fall asleep…”

He was sure his heart had skipped a beat. Or maybe it’d done a full-blown gymnastics routine, somersaults and all, because it definitely wasn’t beating in its normal rhythm in his chest.

“Y-yeah, of course, if that’s what you want.” Bob swallowed hard, nodding. “Just, uh… let me bring the tray to the kitchen, and then I’ll be right back.”

And with a small “okay” from Y/N as his dismissal, Bob scurried out of the room like lightning.

The hallway light was blinding compared to the darkness of the room he’d just spent about an hour in, but for the first time in his life, he craved it. Because in that darkness was safety and peace. In that darkness lay a body, curled up on a bed, covered in his sweater, waiting for him, hoping he’d help her get better.

He barely acknowledged Ava or Bucky, who called out to him, asking if he was alright, as he grabbed a couple of water bottles from the fridge and some of the pretzels Alexei had stashed behind pots and pans, hoping to hide his hoard. He wouldn’t mind, Bob reasoned. Y/N was like another daughter to him, and if she’d eaten the soup, despite all her protesting, maybe her appetite was gonna be coming back sooner rather than later, and he wanted to be stocked up on snacks. Besides, he could just blame Walker if needed.

When he returned, he was instantly enveloped by Y/N’s scent as if it were its own form of blanket.

“Hey,” Bob whispered, not wanting to break the settled peace. “I’m – I’m back.”

He mostly heard rather than saw shuffling on the bed, but as his eyes adjusted, he noted Y/N had moved to the side furthest from the door, opening up some space on the bed.

She’d done so before during the nights his mind had been restless, but somehow this felt much more intimate than when insomnia forbade him from sleeping.

Slowly, as if afraid this moment would be ripped from him if he moved any quicker, Bob placed the waters and pretzels on the ground, sliding in next to her, turning to face Y/N with one hand under his cheek, the other on the mattress between them.

“Thank you,” she muttered, the ghost of a smile on her face as her hand slid from below the blankets and rested atop his. “For taking care of me.”

“I–I mean, I didn’t –“

“You did,” she interrupted his stammering, tightening the grip she had on him. Gently, he flipped it palm up so that her fingers could slide between his. “And you still are. So thank you.”

And once again, like he’d said before, he simply replied, “Always.”

With that single word spoken, Bob watched as Y/N’s eyes drooped closed, her breathing evened out, and once again she was deeply asleep. Yet even when in dreamland, her hold on him never wavered. Not when she twisted out from the cocoon and scooted closer to him, not as chills overtook her body and Bob held her through them, not as the fever broke and a small sigh of relief escaped, her body slowly returning to a normal temperature.

For the first time in his life, Bob had found peace in the darkness, all because of the woman lying in his arms. And when it came to claim him too, he gladly fell, knowing that when he awoke, she would be there, much like she’d be in his dreams.

***

BONUS

“Oh my god! Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, this is so cute!”

It was a harsh whisper-yell that brought Bob out of his slumber.

He peeked an eye open, noting the unmistakable shape of Y/N’s form in his arms. She was still sound asleep, her body curled around his like that of a koala’s, head tucked below his chin, while one of her arms had a death-grip on his waist, a leg thrown over his hip.

One of his own arms was underneath her, completely numb. From the feeling of it, it’d probably been there for ages, but if this position meant she was comfortable and could have a good sleep, he’d deal with the pins-and-needles a hundred times over if necessary.

Turning to look over his shoulder, Bob found the culprit or rather culprits of the noise as he was met with the faces of Yelena, Alexei, Bucky, Ava and John all looking at them through a gap in the door, the Red Guardian with a phone in his hand, no doubt taking pictures of the two cuddling.

“You guys,” he mumbled, a blush of embarrassment crawling its way all over his body. “Can you pipe it down? Y/N’s asleep.”

“How is Legushka?” Yelena whispered into the room. “Did the fever break?”

“Yes!” Bob hissed, turning away from the team and curling tighter around the body he had in his hold. “Now, can you all please leave? You’ll wake her up.”

“Sorry.” Bucky raised his hands in apology. “I told them not to disturb you. Come on! Out, everyone!”

Obviously, he more than Y/N, would get mercilessly teased about it, but he could take it, if it meant a bit more time with her in his arms, but just when he thought he’d gotten away with it, Walker just had to shout a loud, “Yeah, fucking get it, Bobik!”, making Y/N spring up.

She took a confused glance around at the room before her eyes settled onto Bob who was on her bed, red-faced and mortified.

“The toad did it,” Y/N said, her tone serious as a heart attack.

Bob blinked once. Twice. “What?”

“I swear the toad did it,” she mumbled, evidently delirious from sleep and the flu, but slowly moving back to lay down next to him, curling into the man’s body like it was where she belonged. “The toad ate the last strawberry. Damn thieving amphibian…”

Come morning, he would ask about the toad and the strawberry and if it had anything to do with Yelena’s nickname for her, but for now, Bob just pressed a light kiss against Y/N’s forehead, eyes slipping closed, listening to the melody of her breathing.

One day, he would tell her how he really felt.

One day, he would give his heart to her.

One day, he hoped, she would trust him with her own.

But for then and there, Bob was content with his present. With the peace he’d found in the darkness.

Tags: Marvel tags: @nerissa98 @asguardiansoftheavengers @crazybutconfidentaf @pizzarollpatrol @desir-ae A/N: we are so back baby, Tower fics incoming! Bob, my love, my life... you bet your ass I'm probably gonna write something where OG Avengers are still alive and living in the tower with Thunderbolts*!!! The chaos that would ensue is giving me life Tags are always open

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firelilyfox · 20 days ago

Text

Some girls think it's cute

Thunderbolts: Bob x Female Reader

Summary: Bob has a HUGE crush on you and no talent in talking (shy king)

Warnings: none really. sfw. fluff overload. passionate kissing.

Words: 2k

Like always: leave a heart if you like or a comment or ideas :) all is welcome!

_____________________________

The sun rises over the skyline bringing New York to life again.

Bob is already standing in the kitchen making coffee to survive the upcoming challenges for today: don’t break anything while training with Bucky, staying awake through the boring lectures by Yelena and most importantly… not having a stroke as soon as he sees Y/N.

Multiple times this week Bob had severe problems to even breathe when you would enter the room or - god help him - standing within an arm length away. Every time you laid eyes on his nervous face he was already looking at you and the way you smiled because of it … he felt his heart skipped a beat. Or five.

Worst of all: the others noticed.

„Mornin’ Bob“, Bucky grumbles from across the huge kitchen slash dining hall.

Bob looked up and sighted in relief (or disappointment). „Good Morning.“

„I bet you wish I had lovely curves and longer hair. Don’t ya?“ He said mockingly. And the pale skin in Bobs face turned instantly red. Bucky barks out a laugh.

„Jesus this is too easy.“ He grabs himself a cup with his metal hand and poured some coffee in it. „You seriously have to work on your pokerface if you plan to keep this a secret.“

„I don’t know what you’re talking about“, Bob mumbles ashamed.

Before Bucky could say anything else the elevator makes a soft ping sound and Yelena stepped inside the kitchen. One step behind her … there where you.

„Hey Boys what’s up!“, Yelena shouts with a big smile. „Ready for some training with your favorite sparringpartners?“

„C´mon Yelena give me at least five minutes to enjoy my coffee before I’m going to kick your ass off the mat“, Bucky mocks.

Bob couldn’t even hear the half of the conversation the two soldiers were having because he was way to focused on you standing there right in front of him. And now he sucked up every move you body was making while coming over to him.

„Good morning Bob“, you said with a little rasp in your voice wich made it obviously that Yelena had just pulled you out of bed. „I’m so tired. No clue how they have so much energy at this time of the day.“

Bob swallows hard. Your hand lays right next to his while resting on the kitchen counter. „I-I… Yeah no clue.“ He wants to sink into the ground.

For a second you just look at him, trying to figure him out, then you hit him with a shy smile. „You look good this morning … I mean you uhm - you look well rested.“

Bob froze solid in place to stare at you. He wasn’t able to move at all but his powers were totally going nuts. Heat sizzled beneath his skin and without noticing he mirrored it to Buckys full cup of coffee. Wich was bubbling now. He put the cup down, smiling knowingly and gave Bob a brotherly pat on his shoulder.

„We will be down in a minute. You girls go ahead and we will meet you at the sparring halls.“ With a meaningful look Bucky gives Yelena a sign to not ask anymore questions. She smirked and grabs Y/N by the elbow to drag her away from Bob.

After the girls had left the room Bob blinks multiple times to make sure he didn’t just dreamed that.

„Well, I know for sure that you didn’t cook my coffee because of Yelena so … yeah. Work on that pokerface or tell her that you like her.“

Bob runs his hand through his hair. No point in denying it any longer. „I tried but every time I- I just … i go tongue-tied.“

„Some girls think it’s cute.“

Bob sighs. „I don’t want her to think I’m cute.“

**Downstairs**

It was even harder for Bob to focus while he is being forced to sparr against you. The rule is to not use any powers (especially for him because … well he could blow this entire building up within a heartbeat) so his only chance not to completely collapse as soon as he blocks some of your kicks was pure self control.

After hours of hard training Yelena and Bucky decided that it’s enough for one day and made their way up to the quarters again. You and Bob stayed.

„You are getting better and better each day Bob. Hard for me to keep up.“ The amusement in your voice sends a warm feeling right in his heart and fills his stomach with butterflies.

„I just copy what I see. You have … you are … uhm I mean“, Bob stutters. Cursing himself for sounding like a damn toddler not being able to form a whole damn sentence. „You are amazing.“ The words escaped is mouth before he could think twice.

You give him a thankful smile. „That is very sweet of you to say.“

Bob doesn't know how to respond to that so he stays silent. Wrenching his fingers nervously, trying to make eye contact without starring at you.

„I - uhm“, Y/N starts. „I should go up and take a shower. But would you like to watch a movie later?“

A wide smile appears on his face. „Yes! I mean uh yeah sure. The others wanted to watch this uhm historic drama I think … I dunno how its called … but yeah if you want we can sit there together. I mean …“ His tongue gets all tied up again while trying to sound not to exited.

Y/N giggles. „No that’s not what I meant. I don’t want to watch this historic thingy with the others. I wanted to ask if you would like to watch a different movie with me.“

Maybe the coffee were never able to stop a stroke from happening. Did he really just hear what he think you said? You wanted to watch a movie with him … alone?

„But … there is only one home theater?“

„Yeah. But we could watch it in my quarters … if you like to come over?“ Your voice gets a silent as if you weren’t sure if Bob would like the idea.

He swallows. Blinks. Then swallows again. „Y-Yeah. I would like that.“

**Later that day**

He flexed both of his hands before he finds the strength to knock at your door. With one last quick look at the corner of his eye he sees the entire Thunderbolts standing at the end of the long hallway pointing their thumbs up and smiling. Bob gestures to make them go away but that’s when the door swung open and suddenly he forgets about the nosy roommates.

You were wearing a oversized shirt of a band he never heard of and one of your shoulders was showing. Your legs were covered in a tight black leggings, wich does not leave much for the imagination. With your hair tied up in a wild bun you looked very comfy.

„You look stunning“, he said with a scratchy voice. Bob could see that Yelena clutches a hand over her mouth and Bucky modding in approval. Ava and Walker trying everything in their power to keep Alexei from making any sound and he wanted to disappear in thin air. It was like having you parents watch you talking to a girl for the first time.

Basically its exactly what was happening right now. He was thankful that you couldn’t see them from your position. That would make this even more awkward.

A soft pink appears on your cheeks. „Thank you. Come in.“

Bob follows you inside and scans the room with one long look. It felt cozy and warm. In every corner was a plant and books were lying around on the different surfaces. The Tv were the only source of light wich made it even more … private.

He catches you looking at him. „I like it. It looks like you.“

„I look like a room?“, you ask in confusion.

„Pretty.“ He says, surprised by his own confidence. Never had he felt so brave talking to you but standing here in the middle of the room, that belongs to the girl he adores … makes him feel safer than ever.

The two of you decide to watch a movie about something funny. Then you choose to watch another movie about something with much action scenes and fast cars. After that you decide to watch another movie wich you totally forgot what it was about because while being all cuddled up on the bed, you are getting closer with each passing minute. By the time the third movie was playing, your legs were laying across his lap and Bob has managed to almost naturally lay his arm around your shoulder, touching the small of your back softly.

„I think that you are pretty too“, you whisper so silent that he almost missed it.

„What?“

You raise your head from his shoulder to look at him. „You called me pretty earlier. And I think you are pretty too.“

„You were thinking of this for the last couple of hours?“ Bob asks in disbelieve.

You nod. „I think about you quiet often.“ Your eyes dart down to his lips when they part in surprise. Bob notices not sure what it means.

„Why?“, he finally whispers. „Why would you do that?“

You look away while clearing your throat. „Oh uhm - I - ignore what I just said. Sometimes I just say weird stuff.“ A nervous chuckle escaping your mouth, trying to cover up the embarrassment.

Bob wants to slap himself across the face. Why couldn’t he have said something more ... well something more intelligent maybe? For fucks sake he were lying in a bed with the girl he was into head over heals and she told him hat she thinks about him and all he had to say to that was; Why?!

Work on your pokerface or tell her that you like her. Buckys voice ringing in his ears with what he said earlier that day. He had to choose between them.

But Bob didn't choose, because there is only one right answer.

And he never wanted to have a pokerface.

He gathers all his courage and hooks one finger under your chin. Gently forcing you to look at him. „I think … about you too. Quiet often Y/N.“

His thumb brushes over the soft skin of your bottom lip. „You do?“ Your voice was nothing more than a whisper asking him that. And he nods.

Painfully slow his palm cups your cheek, long fingers touching the spot right beneath your ear, pulling you closer. „I have trouble to think about anything else.“ His lips brushes yours soft like a feather as if he was asking for permission. You lean into the kiss to deepen it and all of the hesitation falls of Bobs shoulders. His hand on your back holding you close to him and the other on find its way to your throat. Not to squeeze it, but to worship the sensitive skin. His lips calming yours. Your hands wander over his chest into his hair.

The kiss wasn’t wild. It felt soft and gentle and passionate. You felt like falling and flying all at the same time. And he felt like he could finally breath again without trouble. Like you were the air he needs to stay alive.

A sudden crack interrupts the intimate kissing. The window to your left is now having a huge dark line wich stretches all from the bottom left to the top right corner.

„Was that …?“, you ask a little breathless. Bobs head falls back and he closes his eyes shut out of embarrassment. This cannot be happening. „Robert Reynolds, did you just crack my window?“ The amusement in your voice was unmistakable.

„I’m afraid so.“ He sighs. „I’m sorry.“

You shake your head. „I think its cute.“

His eyes fly open in disbelieve. „You think I’m cute?“

„It’s not a bad thing“, you say and kiss him again. „I think it’s cute that I can make you loose control a little bit.“

He never saw it this way. He thought that being seen as cute meant to be weak and that he would never had a chance to get out of the friend zone. But apparently being cute is not at all a bad thing. So if the girl in his arms - and out of his dreams- thinks he is cute… then he wants to be cute for her.

#robert reynolds #fluff #marvel #thunderbolts #team thunderbolts #found family #couple kissing #fanfic #bob x fem!reader #bob fluff #bob x reader #bob reynolds #sentry #the void

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sillygoose067 · 20 days ago

Text

Wrong Bag, Right Time

Lewis Pullman x Reader

You’re already regretting your decision to book the late-night flight by the time you step off the plane. Your brain is a thick fog, your legs are stiff, and your eyes are burning from a barely-there nap sandwiched between two chatty seatmates. The fluorescent airport lights feel like a personal attack as you shuffle through the terminal, clutching your carry-on and weaving through a sea of bleary-eyed travelers.

You follow the signs to the baggage claim, your body moving on autopilot, ears still ringing from the jet engines and the tinny airline announcements. You lean against a cool, steel column, rolling your shoulders back as you wait for the belt to start rumbling. Around you, people are already gathering, faces drawn and eyes darting every few seconds as the carousel creaks to life.

Bags start thudding onto the belt, one after another — a parade of black, navy, and occasionally neon roller bags that look like they’ve been through multiple rounds of airport roulette. You squint, eyes scanning the blur of luggage as it slowly snakes its way around the conveyor.

Your suitcase is black, a standard roller bag with a scuffed corner and a strip of faded, decorative tape around the handle — a last-minute attempt to make it easier to spot in the chaos. When you finally catch sight of it, you push through the small crowd, reaching for the handle just as a kid with a Spider-Man backpack nearly trips over his own shoes, forcing you to dodge sideways to avoid a collision.

You grab the suitcase and wrestle it off the belt, feeling the reassuring weight of your overpacked essentials as the wheels clatter onto the tile. It’s a little heavier than you remember, but then again, you crammed it full of work documents, laptop accessories, and enough backup phone chargers to power a small tech convention.

Dragging it toward the exit, you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the glossy airport windows — hair mussed, eyes smudged with exhaustion, and your blouse slightly wrinkled from a restless sleep against the plane window. You sigh, mentally promising yourself a long, hot shower the second you get to your hotel.

The shuttle to the car rental lot is packed, every inch of space claimed by tourists and business travelers with the same dazed expressions you’re sure you’re wearing. You brace yourself against a pole, your suitcase tucked between your knees as the bus lurches into motion, bumping over the uneven tarmac.

By the time you reach your hotel, you’re practically running on fumes, dragging your suitcase through the lobby and into the elevator with a series of clumsy, exhausted jerks. You fish out your key card, nearly dropping it twice before you manage to swipe it through the reader and stumble into your room.

Your heels come off first, clattering to the floor with a dull thud as you toss your bag onto the bed. You flick on the bedside lamp, the warm glow instantly making the small space feel a little less sterile.

The water from the shower is scalding, and you let it beat down on your shoulders, eyes closed as the steam fills the small bathroom, fogging the mirror and making the tiles beneath your feet slick. You let yourself stand there longer than necessary, feeling the tension slowly drain from your muscles, the ache in your lower back gradually easing.

Wrapped in a thick hotel towel, you shuffle back into the main room, hair dripping onto the carpet as you flip open your suitcase, ready to dig out your comfiest, most threadbare shirt and collapse into bed.

But when you peel back the top layer of clothing, your fingers don’t hit neatly folded blouses or the sensible, corporate slacks you’d meticulously packed. Instead, you pull out a rumpled Led Zeppelin tee, its soft, well-worn fabric clearly belonging to someone who’s spent years living in it.

You blink, holding it up, the faded graphic stretching across the front like a relic from another lifetime. Confused, you dig deeper, pulling out a small mountain of band tees, a denim jacket with fraying patches sewn into the sleeves, and a battered leather notebook, its cover creased and edges worn.

Your pulse quickens as you flip through the pages, finding half-finished sketches, messy notes in looping cursive, and the occasional smudge of ink where someone clearly wrote in a hurry. There’s a faint, musky scent clinging to the pages, a mix of worn leather and old cologne.

“Wait...” you murmur, setting the notebook aside as you reach for a thick stack of papers wedged against the side of the case. It’s a printed script, the title bold at the top and someone’s lines heavily highlighted in yellow.

You glance back at the open suitcase, your mind racing, heart thudding against your ribs as you fish out a small, laminated luggage tag tangled in the zipper. It flips over in your hand, the plastic cool and slightly warped from years of travel.

“L.P.”

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” You sink onto the edge of the bed, the towel slipping from your shoulders as you stare at the mismatched pile of someone else’s life spread across your hotel sheets.

---

Across town, Lewis Pullman hauls his suitcase up the narrow stairwell to his apartment, one hand gripping the railing as he leans into the climb, every muscle in his legs protesting the final stretch. He fumbles for his keys, and finally shoulders his way inside, the familiar, comforting chaos of his one-bedroom coming into focus as he kicks the door shut behind him.

He toes off his boots, letting them fall wherever they land, and drags the suitcase into his cramped living room, tossing his jacket onto the back of the couch. The streetlights outside cast thin, golden strips across the walls, and his refrigerator hums steadily in the otherwise silent space.

He flips open the suitcase, too tired to even think about organizing, and reaches blindly for a clean shirt. Instead, his hand lands on something stiff and sharply pressed.

Lewis frowns, pulling out a neatly folded stack of dress shirts, their collars crisp and perfectly creased. He blinks, eyebrows knitting together as he digs deeper, pulling out tailored slacks and a leather-bound planner with a small, discreet logo embossed on the corner.

“What the...” He flips the planner open, eyes skimming over tightly packed meeting notes, detailed itineraries, and a color-coded calendar that looks like the work of someone who genuinely enjoys spreadsheets.

He reaches for a thick, intimidating-looking folder marked “Confidential�� in bold letters, his heart sinking further as he flips it open to reveal a stack of professionally printed documents.

“Oh, no. No, no, no.” He lets the folder drop onto the floor, running a hand through his already messy hair as he stares at the unfamiliar contents of what is very clearly not his suitcase.

Somewhere out there, someone is currently rifling through his tangle of band tees, scribbled notes, and, worst of all, his heavily highlighted script for a new gig he'd just scored.

---

You stare at the suitcase spread open on your hotel bed, the pile of band tees and creased notebook sitting there like a physical reminder of the chaos your life has just become. You should do something — call the airline, maybe, or at least try to figure out who this L.P. is before their missing luggage becomes your permanent problem.

But you’re exhausted. The kind of tired that settles deep in your bones, turning your thoughts into molasses and making even the simplest task feel monumental.

You let out a long, frustrated sigh, rubbing your eyes and glancing at the clock on the bedside table. It’s already pushing 1 a.m., and the idea of trying to navigate a customer service call right now feels like a special kind of hell.

“Alright, fine,” you mutter to the empty room, tossing the vintage tees back into the suitcase and flipping the lid closed. You’ll deal with it in the morning, when your brain is at least somewhat functional. For now, you just need sleep.

You crawl into bed, still vaguely damp from the shower, and tug the covers up to your chin. The mattress is firmer than you’d like, the pillow a little too thin, but it doesn’t take long for the steady hum of the hotel air conditioning to lull you into a deep, dreamless sleep.

---

Across town, Lewis drops onto his couch, head thudding against the worn armrest as he stares up at the cracked ceiling. The folder of mysterious corporate documents is still sitting on the coffee table, its thick, embossed cover practically daring him to open it again.

He considers getting up, maybe flipping through the papers for a hint about who his mystery bag-swapping stranger might be, but the thought alone makes his eyes feel heavier. He’s not exactly equipped for a late-night detective mission right now, not with the remnants of jet lag still clinging to his brain like a wet blanket.

“Tomorrow,” he grumbles, kicking his feet up onto the armrest and letting his eyes drift shut. He’ll deal with it in the morning, when his brain isn’t actively trying to shut down.

---

The next morning comes far too quickly. You wake to the sharp, insistent chime of your phone alarm, the sound cutting through your foggy consciousness like a knife. You groan, slapping at your phone until it goes blessedly silent, and roll onto your back, staring up at the bland, popcorn-textured ceiling.

It takes a moment for the events of the previous night to come rushing back — the wrong suitcase, the unfamiliar band tees, the mysterious L.P. luggage tag. You sit up slowly, rubbing at your eyes and trying to shake the lingering cobwebs from your brain.

First things first: your own suitcase. You’d had the foresight to slip an Apple AirTag into one of the side pockets before your flight, a small, paranoid part of you always worrying about exactly this kind of mix-up.

You grab your phone, opening the Find My app with a flick of your thumb, but the screen just loads into a frustratingly empty map, the little green dot stubbornly refusing to show up. Too far away, probably. You grit your teeth, already regretting not springing for the upgraded model with the longer range.

You tap the call icon and put the phone to your ear, bouncing your knee as it rings.

“Thank you for calling Apple Support. Please hold while we connect you to the next available representative.”

You resist the urge to groan, your fingers tapping an impatient rhythm against the hotel comforter as the tinny hold music crackles in your ear.

---

Across town, Lewis is having his own version of a chaotic morning. He’s halfway through his second cup of coffee, hair still damp from a hurried shower, as he flips through the stack of neatly printed documents that had been sitting in what he thought was his suitcase.

Every page is packed with dense, professional text — contracts, meeting agendas, and what looks like a series of legal documents with a name scrawled at the bottom in neat, looping handwriting.

“Alright,” he mutters to himself, leaning back against the kitchen counter as he taps the name into his phone’s search bar.

Results flood the screen, a frustratingly long list of people with the same name scattered across LinkedIn profiles, news articles, and random blog posts. He scrolls through the first few pages, trying to find anything that might match the person he accidentally luggage-swapped with, but it’s like looking for a needle in a very, very crowded haystack.

He blows out a breath, tossing his phone onto the counter and rubbing the back of his neck. His manager is going to kill him when they find out about this. Still, he can’t exactly let a stranger hold on to his scribbled notes and half-finished script forever.

“Alright, screw it,” he says, grabbing his phone again and pulling up his manager’s contact.

“Sam, hey, I’ve got a situation,” he says as soon as the line connects, pacing a tight circle in his small kitchen. “No, it’s not like last time. I just... I might have swapped bags with someone at the airport, and I have no idea who they are, but they’ve got my script. And my stuff. All my stuff.”

There’s a long pause on the other end, the kind that usually means Sam is resisting the urge to throw his phone against the nearest wall.

“Okay,” Sam finally says, his voice a carefully measured calm. “Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to take the bag you’ve got and head back to the airport. There’s a decent chance the other person will do the same once they realize they’ve got the wrong bag.”

Lewis sighs, glancing at the stack of neatly folded dress shirts and leather-bound planner sitting innocently on his counter.

“Yeah, alright,” he mutters, grabbing his keys off the hook by the door. “I’m on my way.”

---

Meanwhile, your Apple Support call finally connects, a cheery voice on the other end promising to walk you through the steps to locate your missing suitcase. You glance over at the still-open bag on the bed, the crumpled script catching your eye.

Maybe it’s time to finally figure out who the hell L.P. is. You grab the thick stack of papers, flipping to the cover page and skimming the title. Your eyes widen as the name Lewis Pullman jumps out at you, the pieces suddenly falling into place.

Lewis Pullman. The actor. Bill Pullman’s son.

You stare at the script in your hands, heart thudding in your chest as the full weight of your accidental heist hits you.

“Oh, no,” you mutter, sinking back onto the bed. “What have I done?”

---

Lewis taps his fingers against the steering wheel, jaw tight as he stares at the congested freeway ahead. The morning sun glares off the windshields around him, turning the LA traffic into a slow, blinding crawl. He glances at the passenger seat, where your neatly packed suitcase sits like a silent accusation, the crisp corners and tasteful leather trim a stark contrast to the chaos he’s used to.

By the time he finally reaches LAX, the nerves in his stomach have twisted into a full-on knot. He parks and hauls the suitcase through the labyrinth of terminals, the weight of his mistake pressing down on his shoulders.

The airport is buzzing with activity, the steady thrum of engines and the chaotic clatter of luggage creating a backdrop of controlled chaos as he heads for the airline counter.

The attendant at the lost and found desk looks up, raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow as Lewis approaches, his suitcase clutched in a white-knuckled grip.

“Hi, I... I think I accidentally swapped bags with someone on my flight last night,” he says, his voice coming out a little more strained than he intended. He sets your suitcase on the counter, running a hand through his hair as he tries to sound less like a sleep-deprived mess. “This isn’t mine. I’m hoping the person who has mine will come looking for theirs, too.”

The attendant nods, typing something into the computer and giving him a weary, knowing smile — the kind that says this isn’t the first time someone’s stumbled in with the wrong bag and a panicked expression.

“Just leave it here,” she says, slapping a tag on the handle and sliding it onto the cart behind her. “If the other person comes by, we’ll let them know you dropped it off.”

Lewis hesitates, fingers still wrapped around the handle, his brain fighting a ridiculous urge to hold onto the bag a little longer. He gives it a final, reluctant nudge, watching as the cart wheels it away and disappears into the maze of behind-the-scenes airport chaos.

With a deep, tired sigh, he turns and heads back to his car, hands shoved into his pockets as the sounds of the bustling terminal fade behind him.

---

Meanwhile, back in your hotel room, you’ve entered the frantic, mildly horrifying phase of a full-on internet spiral. Your laptop is balanced precariously on the edge of the bed, multiple tabs open on Lewis Pullman.

You grab your phone, pacing the small stretch of carpet between the bed and the window as you pull up his IMDb page, half-hoping there’ll be a contact button you can just click to resolve this mess. But of course, there isn’t. The closest you get is a list of his past projects and a handful of magazine interviews that all seem to paint him as the down-to-earth, quietly intense type.

Finally, after what feels like a small eternity of frantic googling, you stumble across what you think might be his manager’s number, tucked away on an obscure industry listing. You dial it, hands shaking a little as the line rings, each passing second making your pulse thud harder against your ribs.

Voicemail.

You hang up, your breath coming out in a short, frustrated huff as you toss your phone onto the bed. You’re tempted to try again, maybe leave a message this time, but something about the whole situation already feels too much like a scene from a bad rom-com, and you’re not sure you can handle the embarrassment of leaving a rambling, half-panicked voicemail for a guy you’ve never even met.

Finally, you decide to cut your losses and head back to the airport, clutching Lewis’s battered suitcase like a lifeline as you weave through the bustling lobby and make a beeline for the lost and found desk.

An attendant is sitting there, her expression unimpressed as she types away at her computer. You clear your throat, shifting your weight nervously as you set the bag on the counter.

“Hi, I think I accidentally swapped bags with someone on my flight last night,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “I just... I just want to leave this here, in case they come looking for it. It’s got a lot of their stuff in it, and I’m, um, really hoping mine is still somewhere in the system.”

The attendant glances at you over the top of her computer, her expression a mix of boredom and mild curiosity. She slaps a tag onto the handle of the suitcase and adds it to the same cart Lewis’s bag disappeared on earlier.

“We’ll call you if we find anything,” she says, already turning back to her screen.

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat as you scribble your name and number on the form she slides your way. It feels weirdly final, like you’re closing the book on a strange, mildly mortifying chapter of your life.

---

A few weeks pass, and the whole suitcase fiasco slowly slips into the background noise of your daily routine — a bizarre, slightly embarrassing story you’ll probably share with friends over drinks someday.

But then, just as you’re starting to convince yourself that you’ll never see your meticulously packed suitcase again, your phone buzzes with a call from an unknown number.

“Hello?” you say, balancing your phone against your shoulder as you fumble with your laptop.

“Hi, this is LAX Lost and Found. We’ve located your suitcase. You can come pick it up anytime this evening.”

---

You arrive at the counter a little breathless, the memory of your original suitcase still a fresh sting as you approach. But just as you step up to the desk, another figure rushes up beside you, his sneakers squeaking against the polished tile.

“Hi, I’m here to pick up my suitcase —” you both start, your voices overlapping in a messy, tangled echo.

You glance at each other, both of you wide-eyed and a little winded, and then immediately look away, the awkward tension settling like a heavy fog. He’s tall, a little scruffy around the edges, his hair tousled like he’s run his hands through it one too many times. There’s a brief flicker of recognition in his eyes, like he’s trying to place you, but then he quickly looks down, rubbing the back of his neck as if he’s suddenly aware of how tightly the air feels around you both.

The attendant rolls her eyes, bending to grab two identical suitcases from the back, her movements sharp with barely disguised exasperation.

“Here,” she says, shoving both bags onto the counter with a loud thunk. “I assume you two know which is which this time?”

You and Lewis both reach for your respective bags, pausing to double-check the scuffs and ID tags, even unzipping the top a few inches just to be sure.

When you both exhale in relief, catching each other’s eye for a split second, his mouth opens, closes, and then opens again, like he’s trying to catch the right words before they slip away.

“Uh, hey,” he starts, one hand gripping the handle of his suitcase, the other half-raised in a tentative gesture. “I, uh... just wanted to say thanks for, you know, bringing my stuff back. I know that, uh, it probably... wasn’t the most convenient thing.” He lets out a little breathy chuckle, eyes dropping to his shoes for a second. “I mean, I’m not sure what I would’ve done if you hadn’t.”

You let out a small, relieved laugh, the lingering tension breaking like the first crack of a smile after a long, awkward silence.

“No, it’s fine. I... kinda panicked when I realized what I had. Almost didn’t want to touch anything, but, uh... yeah.” You bite your lip, feeling a little of the same nervous energy radiating off him.

He nods, his shoulders relaxing a bit, and he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, like he’s working up the nerve for something.

“So, uh...” he hesitates, his gaze flicking back up to yours, the corners of his mouth twitching in a hesitant, lopsided grin. “Maybe we could, I dunno, grab a coffee sometime? Or, uh, dinner, if that’s... less weird?”

You blink, a little caught off guard by the sudden offer, but the earnest, slightly flustered look on his face makes it hard not to smile.

“Yeah,” you say, nodding before you can second-guess yourself. “Dinner sounds nice.”

“Cool, cool,” he says quickly, letting out a breath that sounds suspiciously like a silent cheer. He fumbles for his phone, nearly dropping it as he tries to unlock it with one hand, his cheeks turning a little pink. “Uh, here, just... give me your number and I’ll... yeah.”

You chuckle, tapping your info into his phone as he watches, his eyes crinkling at the edges when you hand it back.

“Alright, well... I’ll text you,” he says, stepping back with a little half-wave. “Thanks again. Seriously.”

You nod, your heart doing an odd little flip as you watch him turn and weave back into the airport crowd, his suitcase rolling behind him, the wheels clattering against the polished floor.

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dwncams · 22 days ago

Text

THE STORY OF US

genre: fluff | pairings: bob x fem!reader

warnings: none!

notes: i wrote this listening to take my breath away lmao anyways i had a random energy kick while watching an interview for thunderbolts so why not write this yknow! (if this flops im deleting immediately)

- he saw you for the first time in the hard deck and absolutely knew he had to marry you

- like his eyes nearly popped out of his skull and nat had to remind him not to stare

- when everyone found out he had a lil thing for you, it was everyones mission to get you two together (even maverick was in on it)

- and when everyone found out you had a lil thing for him, it sent everyone in the academy into a flurry

- then when you started dating, you definitely found out how nosy people can be.

- and after dating for a year and a half, he finally decided to put a ring on your finger!

- he was so so nervous when he proposed

- did he stutter? yes. but did you care? nope.

- at the wedding when you walked down the aisle, he cried.

- all of the guys in the squadron (also his groomsmen!) told bob that they would clown him if he did

- that was all forgotten when he saw his beautiful wife walking down the beautiful aisle in her beautiful dress

- all he was thinking was: “what did i do to deserve her?”

- anyways yes you guys are married we cheered

- at the reception, you definitely figured out that he had some.. interesting dance moves! (lessons in chemistry watchers iykyk)

- all of that aside it was the best night you could’ve ever asked for

#bob floyd x reader #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #bob floyd #bob #thunderbolts #bob fluff #bob x reader #bob x fem!reader

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usagii-bun · 13 days ago

Text

someone to protect — b. Reynolds [part 1]

𝗌𝗒𝗇𝗈𝗉𝗌𝗂𝗌 彡 you only came to the grocery store for bread. you didn’t expect to run into the man who once broke into your apartment, stole your tv, and fled through your window with second-degree ramen burns. and you definitely didn’t expect that same man—now shaggy, awkward, and uncomfortably familiar—to be dragged into your life again by a booming russian in a red tracksuit who insists on borscht and redemption dinners.

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 彡attempt at comedy, mentions of past drug addiction (meth use and overdose), violence, language, and mature content in future chapters (including trauma-related themes and emotional intimacy). Please read with care !

if you prefer to read it on wattpad 🔗

word count: 6.1k

enjoy !

The grocery store’s air-conditioning blasted cold enough to raise goosebumps on your arms, a sharp contrast to the muggy New York summer outside. You shivered, rubbing your forearms as you grabbed a basket and drifted through the isles. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, a bright, sterile hum that matched the strained pulse in your temple. You needed to focus. Just stick to the list. Get in, get out.

First on the list: bread. You turned down the bakery aisle, weaving through a pair of kids wrestling over a trolley like it was a prized race car. You wondered, just briefly, if one of them might suddenly turn into a super-soldier and crash into the shelves. You caught yourself. That paranoia had been creeping up ever since that day, and you had to admit it was exhausting.

Two months. Two months since the floor beneath your desk had cracked open like a jaw, spilling glass and drywall onto the street below. Two months since you had stumbled through the smoke and the alarms, clutching your laptop and half-eaten sandwich, your brain caught in a vicious loop of your worst memory, replaying over and over like a scratched CD.

You gripped the handle of your basket tighter, nails digging into the cheap plastic. You’d made it out just in time to watch a helicopter tilt sideways into the third floor, shattering the windows of the office you’d been sitting in minutes earlier. You remembered the heat, the blinding white flash of the rotors slicing through glass and steel, the rush of air that had nearly pulled you back into the chaos. You hadn’t been able to process it then, and you weren’t sure you could now.

You drew in a slow, steady breath, blinking back to the present as you grabbed a loaf of sourdough. Focus. You had more pressing problems than intrusive memories. Like rent. Or the fact that your employer had declared bankruptcy two days after the incident, leaving you and the rest of your department with nothing but a final, pitying group email about “unprecedented circumstances.” You scoffed, shoving the bread into your basket a bit too hard.

Moving into the canned goods aisle, you scanned the shelves for soup, your eyes lingering on the discount labels. You were still trying to convince yourself that this whole unemployment thing would be a short-term inconvenience, but your bank account said otherwise. You hadn’t even had the energy to look for a new job yet. The idea of sitting in another sterile, glass-panelled office, tapping away at spreadsheets while waiting for the next disaster to strike, felt like a cruel joke.

You turned the corner, debating the merits of tomato versus chicken noodle, when you nearly crashed into a broad chest that felt as solid as a concrete pillar. You jerked back, your basket swinging dangerously close to clipping your own hip and looked up.

The man you’d almost barrelled into towered over you, his shaggy, overgrown hair brushing the collar of his thick, grey cardigan. It hung loose on his frame, sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, revealing surprisingly defined, sinewy muscles that stretched the wool in a way that suggested he was used to lifting more than just grocery bags. His eyes, a stormy mix of grey and blue, blinked down at you with a hint of surprise, like he hadn’t expected to be standing here either.

“Oh,” he said, his voice soft and unsure, like someone who rarely spoke first. His hand reached out instinctively as if to steady you, fingers hovering just a breath away from your shoulder before he hesitated, withdrawing his arm like it might burn him.

You blinked up at him, something niggling at the back of your mind. He looked… familiar. Not just in the ‘guy you pass on the street every day’ kind of way, but in a way that prickled at the edges of an old, half-forgotten memory. You stared at his face, the scruffy jawline, the faint scar along his cheekbone, the haunted, cautious eyes that flicked away the second they met yours.

You knew this face.

You knew his face.

Your pulse stuttered.

Then it hit you. The flicker of a greasy hoodie pulled tight around a gaunt, desperate face, a figure silhouetted in the light of your open fridge, a whispered, frantic apology cut off by a steaming cup of ramen splattering across a narrow, bony back.

“Oh my god,” you said, your voice coming out more breathless than you intended.

His eyes widened, a deer-in-headlights kind of terror flashing across his face.

“It’s you.”

“Uh…” He took a half-step back, one hand coming up to rub awkwardly at the back of his neck. “It’s… me?”

“Yeah, you.” You jabbed a finger into his chest, immediately regretting it as your finger hit something disturbingly solid beneath the wool. You winced, pulling your hand back quickly, masking the sharp sting with a tight scowl. “You’re the one who broke into my apartment and stole my TV a few years back!”

The silence that followed was thick enough to choke on. He blinked once, twice, then seemed to shrink a little into his cardigan, eyes flicking to the side as if he might find an escape route between the rows of chicken noodle and tomato soup.

“Oh. Oh.” He grimaced, his ears turning an impressive shade of pink. “Uh, yeah. I’m… I’m really sorry about that.” He stammered, rubbing his arm awkwardly. “I-I told you I’d replace it.”

You scoffed as you remembered his desperate face twisted with pain from the hot noodles that was thrown at his back, his words barely coming out coherent. “Yeah, well, that’s hard to believe from the guy who bolted out my window with a 43-inch flatscreen and a bad case of ramen burns.”

He flinched, a guilty look crossing his face as he glanced down at his shoes. “Yeah… I deserved that.” You were about to snap back, something cutting and cathartic, when a booming, heavily accented voice echoed down the aisle.

“Bob! There you are my friend!”

You turned, just in time to see a massive, bear-like figure stomping toward you, arms outstretched like he was about to crush the both of you in a bone-cracking bear hug.

Bob turned a little, his head dropping like a guilty puppy. “Oh no…”

The mountain of a man, dressed in a bright red tracksuit and sporting a bushy beard, clapped a meaty hand down on Bob’s shoulder, nearly sending him to his knees. “I have been looking for you everywhere! What are you doing here, hiding among the soup cans like a little mouse?”

You blinked, your mind struggling to keep up. You do know now that the man who stole your TV is named Bob, such a peculiar name.

Alexei’s grip on Bob’s shoulder tightened, his thick fingers nearly disappearing into the oversized grey cardigan, and for a moment, you almost felt a little sorry for the guy. Almost. The big Russian’s bearded face split into a grin, his eyes twinkling like he’d just found an old friend in the canned soup aisle.

“Ah, Bob! Did you find the canned corn ?” he boomed, his deep, accented voice carrying down the aisle and probably into the frozen foods section.

You took a small, instinctive step back, watching as Bob visibly shrank beneath the older man’s enthusiastic grasp. Alexei’s gaze shifted to you, his eyes narrowing with a sudden, almost childlike excitement. Without warning, he released Bob’s shoulder, reaching into his shopping basket as he brought it up, the box crinkling slightly in his massive hand.

“Look, look!” He leaned in towards you, jabbing a thick finger at the front of the box. “You recognize this?”

You blinked, leaning in despite yourself. The box was a generic-looking brand, the kind that’s always on sale but no one actually buys unless they’re desperate or trying to save a few dollars. The front featured a group of people, posing – Alexei’s finger pointing at a specific man.

You glanced at the person he was pointing at on the box, then back at him. Then back at the box. Then at Bob, who had gone a peculiar shade of pink beneath his scruffy, overgrown hair, his eyes fixed on the tiled floor like he wished he could disappear into it.

The Red Guardian’s grin only grew wider as he watched your confused expression, his finger tapping insistently on the printed image.

“See? See? You recognize, yes?” He straightened, puffing out his chest as if to match the image on the box. You blinked again, torn between second-hand embarrassment and a bizarre kind of awe. “Uh… yeah.” You muttered out, fingers awkwardly playing with the handle of your shopping basket.

His eyes sparkled, clearly thrilled by the recognition. “Yes, yes! You know me!” throwing his hands up causing you and Bob to flinch at the sudden burst of movement.

You tilted your head, watching as he posed with one fist on his hip, the cereal box still clutched in his other hand like it was the Olympic torch. “Red… something?”

He leaned in closer, his beard twitching with anticipation, like a giant, overeager bear.

“Red… Guardian?” you finished, half-question, half-statement.

He slammed the box down onto the edge of the nearest shelf, the impact making the metal rattle and the box to tremble. “Yes! Red Guardian!” he roared, clearly pleased with himself. You took a step back, fingers tightening around your grocery basket. This guy had the energy of a particularly loud uncle at a family barbecue, the kind that smacks you on the back hard enough to make you lose your breath.

“And you?” He pointed at you now, his massive hand blocking out half your vision. “You, what is your name?”

You hesitated, glancing at Bob, who was now staring resolutely at the floor tiles, his shoulders hunched like a child expecting a scolding. You felt a strange, uncomfortable twist in your gut, that same old unease from the ramen incident years ago prickling at the back of your mind.

“It’s, uh…” You cleared your throat, feeling oddly exposed under the Red Guardian’s intense, expectant stare. You croaked out your name, this also catching Bob’s attention, the both of you making eye contact but he quickly broke it off when you glared at him.

Alexei beamed your name out loud, rolling the name around in his mouth like a fine wine. “Beautiful name! Strong name!” He clapped his hands together, the sound echoing down the aisle, his gaze now falling on Bob

“And how do you know our Bob here?” he asks, the grin on his face not disappearing.

Your eyes slid back to Bob, who was now shuffling his feet, his hair falling into his eyes as he fidgeted with the fraying edge of his cardigan sleeve. You squinted at him, a sudden flash of irritation tightening your jaw. Right. You remembered exactly how you knew this guy.

“Oh, Bob here,” you said, making sure to put a lot of emphasis on his name long with letting a hint of your old anger creep into your tone, “stole my TV a few years back.” You scoffed out, you did not have a TV for a good few months and you was just a struggling college student.

Red Guardian’s smile froze, his thick eyebrows climbing towards his hairline. His gaze snapped to Bob, who winced, his ears turning an even deeper shade of red.

“Bob,” Red Guardian said slowly, his thick, bushy eyebrows knitting together in a mock expression of fatherly disappointment. He leaned in, his voice dropping to a loud, exaggerated whisper that still echoed down the aisle. “You did this?”

Bob flinched, his head jerking up as he stammered, “I-I, uh, I told her I’d replace it!” He shot you a panicked, pleading look, his hands wringing the hem of his cardigan like a guilty child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. “Oh, yeah. Right before you dove out my window with my flatscreen under your arm!” you pointed your index finger towards him in an excusing manner watching as he flinched at his, your brows furrow at this…he seemed like someone who is always on edge.

Red Guardian made a deep, disapproving sound in his throat, his head shaking slowly as he clapped a heavy hand down on Bob’s shoulder once again, making the man visibly wince.

“Tsk, tsk, Bob. This is no good.” He turned back to you, his eyes sparkling with a kind of mischievous, paternal glee. “He must make this right, yes? Repay his debt. Prove he is a good man! And no longer bad chicken Bob!” he exclaims out loud, your even more confused now.

‘Chicken Bob?’

Before you could protest, the Red Guardian’s grip tightened on Bob’s shoulder, his other hand sweeping towards you in a grand, magnanimous gesture. “Bob, you must invite this fine woman to dinner. Show her that you are reformed, yes?”

“W-wait, what?” Bob’s eyes shot wide, his face blanching beneath his scruffy beard.

“Yes, yes!” Red Guardian barrelled on, clearly delighted with his own idea. “You will come to dinner with us, yes?” He turned to you, his eyes bright, his grin nearly splitting his face in two. “It will be great honour to have such a strong, brave woman in our home. We make great borscht! Very delicious!”

You opened your mouth to object, to point out that you still had half a grocery list to get through, not to mention a few years of lingering resentment towards the man who had once made off with your only decent piece of electronics, but the Red Guardian’s booming voice cut you off.

“Come, come! Do not worry about groceries. I will make you borscht. Bob will show you he is a good man. Yes, Bob?”

Bob made a small, strangled sound, his eyes flicking between you and the Red Guardian like a trapped animal.

“Uh… y-yeah?” he managed, his voice so small it was almost swallowed by the grocery store’s humming lights.

Before you could fully process what was happening, the Red Guardian was already steering you and Bob towards the exit, the cereal box abandoned on the shelf behind you, his booming voice echoing through the aisles.

“Come, come, we will have great feast! You will see, Bob is very good man now!”

You shot Bob a sharp, exasperated look as you stumbled along beside them, your brain still scrambling to catch up. How the hell had this become your life?

⊹

The walk to the Watch Tower – the tower that now housed the ‘new’ avengers - was mercifully short, though it felt longer than it was with the Red Guardian practically booming with every step, his heavy boots clapping against the pavement like a small parade. The morning air was crisp, the sun cutting through the towering glass and steel around you, casting long, sharp shadows across the cracked pavement. You managed to get your groceries- Alexei insisting to pay for them as you clutched the bag tighter, the contents rustling softly against your leg as you tried to keep pace with the oversized man beside you.

Every few steps, you felt Bob’s presence behind you, shuffling quietly, his cardigan sleeves pulled down over his hands like a nervous schoolboy. You caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glossy glass doors as they reached the base of the tower, his dark eyes flicking up to meet yours for a fraction of a second before darting away again.

He still looked like a ghost of a man, all messy, unkempt hair and slouched shoulders, you almost felt bad for him, but the memory of your missing TV kept you firmly on the side of irritated.

Alexei, however, was in a world of his own, practically vibrating with energy as he slapped his massive palm against the sleek, polished metal of the tower’s entrance, his voice echoing off the glass.

“Come, come! We are home now!” He gestured grandly for you to enter, his broad, calloused hand sweeping towards the sliding glass doors.

You hesitated, glancing up at the towering structure. The sleek, reflective surface stretched up into the cloudless sky, the sunlight catching on the edges of a large A near the top. You swallowed, feeling a flicker of nervousness and nostalgia – you had been here before, long ago – work purposes, memories you just wanted to tuck away.

Before you could fully process the absurdity of the situation, the Red Guardian had already marched through the doors, his heavy boots clanking against the marble floors inside, leaving you and Bob to awkwardly shuffle in behind him.

The lobby was cavernous, the high ceilings stretching upwards like a cathedral, glass and steel arching around you in a way that felt both futuristic and oppressive. Soft, ambient music hummed through hidden speakers, the faint, sterile scent of air conditioning tingling in your nose. You glanced over at Bob, who was still staring at his shoes, his long, bony fingers twisting into the frayed edges of his cardigan sleeves.

You shifted your grocery bag to your other hand, your fingers starting to ache from the weight. Alexei was already jabbing at the elevator button with one thick, impatient finger, muttering something in rapid Russian under his breath as he waited for the doors to open.

With a soft ding, the elevator slid open, its brushed steel doors parting like the jaws of some enormous, metallic beast. Alexei stepped inside without hesitation, gesturing for you and Bob to follow.

You stepped in, feeling the air turn colder as the doors slid shut behind you. The soft, mechanical whirr of the elevator filled the silence as Alexei punched in the floor number, his massive knuckles practically dwarfing the tiny, glowing buttons.

For a moment, the only sounds were the gentle hum of the elevator and the faint rustle of your grocery bag as you adjusted it against your hip. You glanced sideways at Bob, who was staring intently at the corner of the elevator, his face a study in nervous concentration.

You tightened your grip on the bag, the plastic cutting into your fingers as you felt a fresh wave of irritation bubble up. How the hell had this guy gone from petty TV thief to… whatever the hell this was? You eyed him again, trying to reconcile the image of the jittery, scrawny man beside you with the half-forgotten memory of him scrambling out your window, your flatscreen clutched awkwardly in his arms.

The Red Guardian’s deep, rumbling voice cut through the silence like a hammer on glass. “Ah, Yelena will be so happy to meet you! Maybe you and her can be friends, yes? She needs more friends” He gave you a broad, toothy grin, his beard twitching as he chuckled to himself. “And you, Bob, you should also make more friends. You are too quiet, like a little ghost.”

Bob made a small, strangled sound, his eyes flicking up to meet yours for the briefest of moments before darting away again. You scowled, your fingers tightening around the grocery bag handle.

You shifted awkwardly, your eyes darting around the room as the uncomfortable silence stretched on. You felt Bob’s presence beside you, his hand twitching slightly as if he wanted to shove his hands into his pockets but was too nervous to move.

The elevator ride felt long- longer then you remembered. Finally, you shot him a sharp, sideways glance, Alexei was humming something in Russian lost in his own world as you lowered your voice to a harsh whisper. “How the hell did you end up here?”

Bob’s eyes widened, his head jerking up like a startled deer. He opened his mouth to respond, but the words seemed to catch in his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he stammered, “I-I… it’s a long story.”

You narrowed your eyes, feeling the weight of the forgotten ramen incident settling heavily in your chest. “I did not know the b-vengers also took on petty thieves” you muttered, your grip tightening on your grocery bag.

Bob’s head tilted slightly, the harsh white light casting faint shadows across the sharp lines of his face. Your words stung like a bandit aid being ripped, his hair hung loose around his shoulders, a little too long, a little too messy, and his jaw tightened at your words. He tried his best to block memories of his past, breaking into peoples homes- stealing their valuables- all in order to buy meth – to get high.

“It’s… complicated,” he mumbled, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, his gaze flicking down to his scuffed boots.

You huffed, eyes narrowing further. “Complicated? You broke into my apartment and stole my TV. That’s not complicated, that’s just petty crime.”

Before Bob could sputter out a response, the elevator gave a soft chime and the doors slid open, revealing the sprawling lounge of the Avengers Tower. The space was sleek and modern, polished floors reflecting the city lights streaming in from the tall glass windows. Low, comfortable couches were scattered around, and a massive screen dominated one wall, currently flashing muted news headlines.

A lady with short blonde hair spots the three of you her sharp, curious eyes immediately locked onto the three of you as she crossed the room, her genie pig clutched in one hand, its tiny paws scrabbling against her fingers. She cocked her head, blonde hair falling over one shoulder as she sized you up, her expression unreadable before she turned to look towards Bob and Alexei.

“You do know you need to inform me first before you go anywhere with Bob, dad ?” she asked her voice laced with annoyance as Alexei gives her a sheepish grin.

“The boy needed the fresh air; thought grocery shopping will help him out.” He states, Bob just nervously standing next to him – Yelena gives the two a small smile – her dad was with Bob, she should not worry that much but at the same time her father has a blabber mouth and says things a bit too quickly before he thinks- which could trigger Bob.

Her gave now falls back on you as you were standing awkwardly through that little conversation, the urge to just run out, to disappear was becoming greater as her eyes locked with yours- stern.

“Dad,” she said, her tone clipped, her gaze still not leaving you. “You know you can’t just bring strangers in here.” Alexei’s face brightened, as if this was exactly the response he’d been hoping for. He clasped his large hands together, making the genie pig in Yelena’s grip flinch.

“Relax, Yelena. Bob here needs to make up for a mistake,” he said, clapping a massive hand down on Bob’s shoulder, making him flinch slightly. “And I thought, what better way than a dinner? A little easier on the champ.” He gave Bob a hearty shake, his bicep bulging as he grinned before he says he needs to prepare dinner in an excited tone, rushing to what you assume is the kitchen.

Yelena’s eyes narrowed further, her suspicion deepening as she looked from you and then to the clearly mortified Bob, who was steadily turning a deep shade of pink.

“What did he do?” she asked, eyes locking onto you, clearly expecting some explanation for this odd little reunion.

You didn’t miss the way Bob’s shoulders tightened, his jaw clenching as if bracing for impact. For a second, you considered letting him squirm a little longer, but the memory of your old, second-hand TV, the one you’d scrimped and saved for, flashed through your mind.

“He stole my TV a few years back,” you said, keeping your tone as casual as you could, but not quite managing to keep the bite out of your voice.

Yelena did not seem phased by what you had said as if its something of the normal as she turns towards him. ‘Did he steal her TV too ? is this a normal ? why are these ‘avengers’ so casual with a petty thief ?’ you thought, you must wanted to go home now.

“Bob,” she said, her voice soft and calm as if she switched off her scary demeanour to calm and soft one- just for him, just for Bob.

“You stole a TV?”

Bob shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, his face a deep, blotchy red. He muttered something under his breath, eyes firmly fixed on the floor, his broad shoulders almost curling in on themselves.

“Wow,” Yelena said, leaning back, clearly enjoying this. “You really are full of surprises, Bob”

Bob’s head dropped lower, and you could practically feel the waves of embarrassment radiating off him.

“ It was when I was on meth!” he quickly justifies, your eyes widen slightly at this new found information, that actually explains a lot. “I-I needed cash so I used to steal stuf-f” he stammered out his eyes now locking with yours, a guilty expression on his face but his eyes were soft and sincere “and I’m really sorry I stole your TV, I did not want to but the voic-” “Okay Bob, that’s enough you don’t need to explain yourself anymore, what has been done in the past is in the past, you don’t have to worry, right?” Yelena had caught him off, her gaze now hard on you, trying to intimidate you into saying right- you looked at her as she wrapped a hand around his wrist- not in a forceful manner but in a way to comfort him ? then you looked at him, his eyes seemed distant, he seemed to be drifting – something was not right as you gazed back to Yelena, her gaze still cold and hard on you as if telling you to go along with her.

You took a deep breath in; a small smile stretches on your face. “Right, the past in the past” you said as sweet as you could , Yelena letting out a breath she did not even know she was holding, Bob’s eyes flickering towards you, a slight shine to them.

What is wrong with him ?

“After all, to be here with the new avengers means you have done something super good” you said, you tried not to sound sarcastic, but Bob seemed to be like a deer caught in headlights, his mind slightly spiralling.

‘You are only here so that you don’t become a threat to others’ a voice, no- its voiced whispered in his ear – his breath hitching, eyes turning glassy. Yelena noticed this quickly, a hand wrapping around his shoulder.

“Why don’t we go and sit down ? huh ? Bob? Lets go have a seat, you can pet Cucumber!” she says all of this out quickly as she lead Bob to the couch, your gaze followed them, next to the couch was a guinea pig – ginger and white, it was lazily seated on a mini pillow before being gently grabbed by Yelena- the guinea pig let out a small ‘pip’ before it was placed in Bob’s hands.

“Here pet Cucumber – think happy thoughts!” Yelena says, you just watched all of this happen awkwardly with your grocery bag making your fingers red, why the hell was this woman babying this grown ass man ? was the first thought that came to mind – Yelena’s gaze snapped towards you, her head cocking towards the couch.

“Sit.” Her voice was stern, this caused you to gulp as you made your way almost tripping on the rug towards the couch. ‘God, did I do something wrong?’ you really wanted to go home now, your heart was beating fast.

You sink into the far end of the couch, the soft cushions sagging beneath you as the worn fabric creaks under your weight. Your grocery bags rustle as you set them down beside you, the thin plastic crinkling sharply in the quiet room. Bob hesitates for a moment, his gaze flicking to you, then quickly away, before his gaze falls back on cucumber – who was happily sat on his lap. His knees bend stiffly, his limbs too long for the small space, and the fabric of his oversized cardigan bunches awkwardly around his wrists, the sleeves slipping down to cover his knuckles as he gently brushes his thumb on the animal.

For a moment, he just stares at his fingers, his thumbs rubbing slow, nervous rhythm on Cucumbers head, his shoulders hunched as if he’s trying to make himself smaller. You catch a faint tremble in his hands, the slight, uneven twitch of his fingers - it’s a small thing, barely noticeable unless you’re paying attention, but you catch it – the subtle, constant fidgeting, the way his breath hitches slightly whenever you glance his way.

Yelena sighs a breath of relief as if she had just stopped a bomb from exploding - she perches herself on the armrest, her arm stretching along the back of the couch, fingers absentmindedly scratching at a threadbare patch in the upholstery. The tiny guinea pig in Bob’s lap, sniffs at the air, its tiny pink nose twitching as it detects the faint, salty scent of your groceries.

Yelena tilts her head, her sharp green eyes flicking between you and Bob, catching the tension that crackles faintly in the air. Her gaze now falling on the paperwork that was scattered on the desk, a groan escaping past her lips “I thought Bucky was going to handle this” she sighs out annoyedly – it was mission reports that Valentina wanted back. Yelena thumbed through them, she knew her dad would want to do it but she don’t really trust him because he will say he is going to do it but ends up doing something else, Ava does not want to do them by choice, Walker – well he will straight up say no, and Bucky offers to do it but is also busy with his congress stuff and her? Well, it’s just tedious.

Yelena’s accent thick but her tone light, as if she’s trying to ease the awkwardness settling around you, “we really should get a personal assistant. Valentina keeps dumping more and more crap on us.” She mutters more so to herself, feeling a headache forming while she stares at the cluttered coffee table, where stacks of mission reports and loose paperwork spill over the edges, threatening to slide onto the floor. One particularly crumpled page still bears the faint outline of tiny teeth marks – Cucumber’s latest snack, no doubt.

You heard what she had said, the need for a personal assistant, maybe you could just add your little two cents as you let out a soft, bitter chuckle, your fingers curling tightly around the thin plastic handles of your grocery bags. “A personal assistant, huh?” you murmur, leaning back into the couch, trying to find a comfortable spot among the lumpy cushions. You catch Bob’s shoulders tensing slightly, his head ducking lower.

“Well,” you continue, tilting your head slightly, a crooked smile pulling at your lips as you glance at Bob, trying to break the awkward tension “I could assist you with that.” You pause, letting the words hang in the air for a moment before adding, “And maybe Bob can help me get the job, you know, as a favour. Since he did steal my TV.” You still did not want to let go of the whole TV stealing incident, this seemed to irk Yelena now.

“I don’t think we would need a girl plucked from the grocery store to be our personal assistant, especially one still hung up on a stolen TV from years ago.” She states, her voice clipped, each word a precise cut. “ Besides, I highly doubt you have the …mindset for such fields”

You raise an eyebrow, leaning back a little “Depends on the field” you reply, tone light but your eyes sharp, catching the subtle shift in Yelena’s posture. “You’d be surprised what some of us pick up along the way”

Bob’s head snaps up, his eyes wide and startled, his mouth opens and closes wordlessly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he struggles to find his voice. For a moment, he looks like a cornered animal, his dark eyes flicking nervously between you and Yelena, his fingers twisting together with renewed urgency.

Before Yelena could respond – her eyes held suspicion, Alexei bursts through the kitchen doors – the smell of food, seeping through as he grins widely.

“The dinner is ready!”

The late afternoon sun spilled through the tall, glass walls of the penthouse, casting long, slanting beams across the polished marble floors. The city below pulsed with life, a distant hum of engines and faint, echoing car horns rising from the streets, muffled by the thick, soundproof glass. The air inside was cooler, tinged with the faint, lingering scent of ozone from the tower’s advanced air filtration system.

Mel leaned against the glass railing, a sleek, black tablet balanced on her forearm, the screen flickering with a steady stream of security alerts. Valentina stood beside her, one hand wrapped around a steaming cup of dark coffee, her expression sharp and slightly irritated, her eyes locked on the swirling security feed.

“Please tell me it’s not another one of Alexei’s weird karaoke nights,” Valentina muttered, her voice low, the edges of her words sharpened by a hint of annoyance. “Last time, it was that poor Pizza guy, and I still don’t know how he ended up in a Spider-Man onesie, belting out ‘You’ve Got a Friend in Me’ at three in the morning.”

Mel smiled slightly, tilting the tablet slightly to catch the glint of the overhead lights. “No, nothing like that. But… well, we might have a situation. Look at this.” She tapped the screen, the security footage flickering as the camera angles shifted, closing in on the lounge below.

Valentina’s eyes narrowed as she took in the scene – Yelena’s wary posture, Bob’s hunched shoulders, and you, perched awkwardly at the end of the couch, your fingers still curled tightly around the crinkling plastic handles of your grocery bag, the faint sheen of sweat dotting your hairline despite the cool, climate-controlled air.

Valentina watched the security camera, a scoff leaving past her lips at Yelena complain about simple paperwork and you talking about being their personal assistant. Your face away from the camera, your hair obscuring your face.

“why does Alexei bring random civilians to the tower? Gosh, Mel please add that I need to give them a warning on that – especially to that Red Guardian” she could feel a headache forming, ever since she announced the bunch of morally grey ‘heroes’ as the new avengers, her days of peace had been short – needing to cater to every single one of their demands.

She was just about to tell Mel, that she did not want to see anymore until your face came into view - Valentina’s eyes narrowed, her head tilting slightly as she took in the scene, her pulse quickening, a faint, instinctive prickle of suspicion tightening the muscles along the back of her neck.

“Wait,” she said, her voice low, her fingers tightening around the edge of her coffee mug. “Zoom in on the girl. Let me see her face.”

Mel hesitated, then swiped a finger across the screen, the pixels tightening around your face, capturing the faint crease between your brows, the annoyed twist of your lips, the dark, smudged shadows beneath your eyes.

Valentina’s breath hitched, her sharp eyes locking onto your face, the faintest flicker of recognition sparking in her gaze.

“Run facial recognition,” she snapped, her tone low, the sharp, edge creeping back into her voice.

The screen flickered, the system processing the command, the dull, mechanical hum of the tablet filling the brief, breathless silence. Then, with a soft chime, the results flashed across the glass, lines of text scrolling rapidly, the bright red banner of a classified file pulsing at the top with your picture on the left-hand side.

NAME: [Your Name]

ROLE: Strategic Planner, Stark Industries

PROJECT: [REDACTED] - Experimental Weapon Development (Scrapped)

STATUS: Resigned, Position Vacated

Valentina’s eyes crinkled at the corners, a slow, dangerous smile spreading across her lips, her fingers curling around the edge of the tablet.

“Well, well,” she murmured, her eyes still locked on your face, frozen in a moment of nervous laughter beside Yelena.

“Maybe the New Avengers do need a personal assistant after all.”

Author’s note

I’m so sorry if this feels rusheddd, I just wanted to get my ideas out uahajw but but I’m excited – reader is slightly a beech but but she will redeem herself!! I promise hehe

Please do leave a like, comment, reblog - would very much appreciate

Also if you would like to be added to the tag list comment below !!

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buckyys-babydoll · 15 days ago

Text

Hunting Shadows

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Reynolds x Fem!Reader

Summary: Darkness. Nothing but darkness. Hunted by his deepest thoughts he has to fight his way through the Void.

Warnings: THUNDERBOLTS SPOILERS! shy!Bob, Thunderbolt!Reader, Best Friends to lovers, insecurities, love confession, hurt/comfort, found family, fluff

Wordcount: 2.735 Words

Authors Note: Beta’d by @elixirfromthestars. Also thanks to @thevillainswhore for the support! Divider made by me.

Darkness.

Another room filled with nothing but darkness. He’s not sure what comes next. Darkness? Or another memory? Another thought that usually haunts him in the darkest nights? He doesn’t know, he can’t know.

The void. A place to face your fears. To face your past. With no escape unless you break through them. But how can you, when every room, every corner, rips open wounds that never really healed?

Faced by nothing but another room with shadows, he steps in. His eyes are trying to see through the dark. Shadows. Big. Scary. Looming over him, ready to grab and pull him further into the coldness.

A shaky breath leaves his lips. It doesn’t remind him of anything. But he knows that room. He knows it like he would live in it.

But he doesn’t. He never did. He never will.

Because that room only exists in his imagination — in his nightmares.

Another shaky breath, his eyes scan through the room. There's something missing; the window is wide open, but the monster, Void, isn’t there.

Of course, it isn’t. Not when it’s doing what it can do best. Hunt people, fill their dreams with fear.

Bob walks another step into the room, there has to be a way to break that room, too. But how? He needs to find the void — needs to find himself to break through this room.

“There you are,” a voice echoes through the room. Bob flinches, turning to find the source of the voice, but everything looks the same — dark. “You think you’re so strong. But you’re alone. Who’s gonna help you? No one!”

He shivers. He’s alone. He feels the cold creeping through his body, crawling up his back.

“I-I’m not alone…” he whispers, shaking his head. “I’m not alone anymore.”

“You’re not? Of course. You’re not,” the Void laughs. Dark. Cold. Just like the things he has to offer in these rooms of the past, and fear. “But where are they? Where is she when you need her?”

Bob shakes his head once more. His hands are clenched into fists, his knuckles turning white as he looks around once more.

Until his eyes finally settle on the small white sparkle in the orbs of the Void. In the corner of the room, able to see everything.

Bob swallows thickly. One punch and he’s in the next room. Does he want it? No. He doesn’t know if it’s worse or better.

The current room is dark and cold. The Void — his insecurities and fears — are there. But is it really better than his parents fighting? Is it better than hearing his dad lashing out, being violent because a mother tried to protect her child from a man who’s talking with his fists instead of words?

“You d-don’t…” Bob trails off as he takes a step closer. He has to. He has to break through the void. Even through the parts he hates, the parts that break him. “You don’t scare me anymore!”

The Void laughs, the white sparkle in his dark eyes focused on Bob as he sets the first punch into the shadow. A sound of something breaking is audible in the room before Bob is pushed into the next room.

And fuck. Maybe he prefers the darkness. Because the room he’s standing in now is worse. It’s everything he always tries to push away, though he doesn’t allow himself.

Buried so deep in his mind. And you’re in front of him, loud and clear.

“You think you’re worth anything?” Your voice, so harsh, echoes through the room. Your eyes are so cold, your expression filled with an amount of hatred Bob has never seen before.

He isn’t worth anything. He never was.

But hearing it from you. From the person who always believed in him. The only person who kept him up when he wanted to fall.

His heart shattered. Bob could almost hear it like glass breaking. It hurt, more than he wants to admit — it was just the Void, but it felt so real — just too real for Bob.

“N-no?” His other self answers the question you just asked. Though it wasn’t a question, not really. “B-But I-i thought you liked me?”

“Like you?” You laugh at him. Bob takes a step backward, his back colliding with the wall behind him as he watches himself and you interact with one another.

This situation, it never happened. You’re too sweet, too lovely to be like that.

But his mind? His mind is telling him all the dark things. He’s not enough. You only feel pity. And deep down, he believes it.

“How could someone like me like someone like you?” You ask, sounding angry and still somehow amused. His other self shrugs slightly, and almost not visible, but you catch it.

Of course, you do. You're always paying attention to everything. And why should it be any different in the Void?

Why should it, when it makes the situation even more painful for him?

“Try again. No one likes you. You’re not even a real man, you’re just a pathetic boy who wants to be more than he is,” you laugh.

“B-but I-i lo-ove you,” he mumbles, a tear falling down his cheek as he watches you intensely. Your expression so distant, so different to your usually soft and loving side.

“Y-you w-what?” You mock him while laughing loudly. It’s loud, too loud. That’s not you, that’s not even close to your sweet laugh to him. “Pathetic. No one’s going to love you!” You say with a cold grin before you walk away. And Bob — both of him — look after you, until the scene starts from the start.

He watches it. Over and over again. His heart is shattered into tiny little pieces. Every time he watches it, it feels worse. But Bob can’t break through it, he can’t move from the spot he’s standing — almost like his feet are glued to the ground.

“Bob! Finally!” Your voice comes from behind you. Your voice. Soft. Loving. Exactly what he’s used to when you talk to him.

And as he turns around to look at you, his eyes widen. What are you doing here – in the darkness of his nightmares?

“Love?” He asks softly, blinking as he looks you up and down. He takes in the soft smile on your lips, the soft swinging of your hips he loves so much when you walk closer to him. “W-what are you doing here?”

“We can only break through the void when we do it together, Bob,” you say. Your voice is so different to the one he heard for the past couple of minutes. He looks at you, up and down, taking in every little detail — so delicate, so you. The one he knows, not the one he sees in his nightmares because of his fear.

“B-But—“ Bob interrupts himself the moment the whole scene in front of you starts again. He notices your head turning to the two people — you and him.

Your eyes widen the moment you hear yourself saying these words. Words you would never think of, at least not around Bob. Not of Bob.

“W-What the—“

“T-That’s,” he points with his finger toward the scene. “I-is… it’s. That’s nothing.”

What was that? It wasn’t his past, because that situation never happened between you and him. The void doesn’t show the future either. So, the only thing it could show is something that’s buried deep down in his thoughts — fear.

“Do you think I-i would ever talk to you like that?” You whisper, your mouth dropping open the moment he confesses his love. Your head whips toward him, eyes widened and a shocked expression on your face. “You’re in love with me?”

“N-no!” He shouts, shaking his head violently before nodding. “Yes. But I-I would never. I don’t think you would ever talk to me like that. But… if I.. would I– I thought you could would I confess my love.”

You shake your head, taking a deep breath. You want to answer. You want to tell him what you feel. But you can’t do it in the void. Not in the rooms of darkness, of fear.

“We have to break through the room, Bob,” you say, taking his hand in yours. You interlace your fingers, noticing the redness growing on his cheeks as he watches your movements intensely. “Come on.”

He nods, following you. Not sure what you’re looking for, you walk back and forth through the room, eyes scanning all the little corners and places you could find a way out of the Void. Nothing.

“W-what about… you?” He asks, pointing at your figure.

You follow his view, noticing the change in your expression. The exact face that brought you from one room in the void to the other.

“So… you wanna punch me?” You laugh softly. Bob shakes his head with widened eyes.

How could you even suggest that? He could never lay his hands on you! Never!

“N-no– but maybe you can do it? I don’t want to hurt you,” he mumbles. “Not even when you’re so mean.”

You chuckle once more, pulling Bob with you toward the two figures who look like you before you finally reach yourself. You lift your arm, balling your hand into a fist before you set a punch directly against your chin.

The Void you’s head is thrown back by the force, a groan leaving its lips as the whole room shatters into small pieces and leads you into the next room – the last room of the void.

Bucky, Alexei, Yelena, Ava, and John are all standing there, looking at the two of you. Bob's hand is still tightly wrapped around yours, he’s standing slightly behind you with a soft smile on his lips as he waves at the others.

“Hi,” he whispers. Quiet, shy.

The others nod, Yelena is the first to raise an eyebrow, while the others are already busy trying to find a way to break through the room.

“Uhuuuu?” She smirks, hitting your shoulder with hers playfully. “Thought you would never—“

“Lena!” You growl softly, glaring at her.

Then you pull Bob with you toward the others. Bucky and Alexei punch and rip stuff, the whole room filled with shattered blankets and pillows. Broken wood. A half-destroyed, standing bed. And a door — still completely intact.

“There’s a door,” Bob mutters, getting everyone’s attention.

They all look up from whatever they are about to break and look at Bob, then toward the door.

“Guys! There’s a door!” Alexei shouts before he runs toward the door and pushes it open.

Behind it, there is the Void. A dark shadow with a glistening small white part in the dark of his eyes.

You can feel Bob shuddering behind you, his breath hitching as he faces himself. The dark side of him. Buried and hidden deep down in the soft man you know.

“Hey,” you mutter, turning around to face him. You bring your hand up to his cheek, your thumb tracing along his jaw softly.

Bob leans into your touch, inhaling deeply. His eyes close for a moment as he takes a shaky breath. Face your fear. Face it. Fight it. And you will be free.

“It doesn’t define you. The darkness can’t do anything,” you mumble as you feel his lips pressing softly against your palm. “You’re not alone anymore. You got —“

“THE THUNDERBOLTS!” Alexei shouts and holds the door open for the others.

“We can’t call us that,” Bucky mutters, shaking his head as he walks into the room where the Void is.

You chuckle softly, waiting for the others to get into a heated argument once again. But before they can, Bob lets go of your hand and walks into the room, passing the others before he stands in front of the Void.

Facing himself. The shadows of his past. The depth of his thoughts.

“There you are,” the Void laughs. He looks down at Bob, and even though he doesn’t have a face, he looks almost like he’s amused. “Bringing your friends. Friends. You mean nothing to them.”

Bob flinches, trying to stand his ground in front of the dark side. He shouldn’t listen to it. It’s not the truth, and he knows. He hopes, at least.

A loud yelp comes from Yelena when metal slings around her frame, pinning her next to Alexei to the wall. John is thrown against the wall, a piece of metal stuck to his shoulder, while Ava and Bucky get pinned to shelves as well.

Only you. From you, he didn’t hear a word.

Bob doesn’t take his eyes off the Void. He can’t. Not even if he tried.

“So, now it’s only your girl. Standing all brave there. But she doesn’t help you, does she?” The Void speaks, dark and low. He hums when Bob's expression gets more anxious before his eyes narrow in anger.

“You can’t break me. You can’t break me. YOU. CANT. BREAK. ME!” He repeats, over and over again.

“Oh. I already did. You have no one. You’re nothing. They don’t care about you. They never will,” the shadow whispers.

A coldness washes over Bob, followed by a shiver. His eyes fill with tears, but he blinks them away.

No more tears of hurt. No more pain. Only anger.

He’s filled with so much anger. The Void, the shadows took so much from him. Tried to make him believe he is nothing, but he knows he’s worth more than nothing. He knows he deserves better.

You showed him. You all — the Thunderbolts — showed him.

Bob lifts his hand, wrapping it around the Voids neck before he throws him down. Throwing himself on top of the shadow, he starts punching it. Over and over again.

His hand turns black, swallowed by the shadows. But he’s better. He’s not weak. Not anymore. Not ever again.

“I’m better than you!” Punch. “I’m not afraid anymore.” Punch.

In the background, he hears your voice. Hears you calling for him to stop, but he can’t. All the anger boils over, the feeling of relief washing over him with every punch he sets.

“Bob! Stop! That’s what he wants,” Yelena shouts. But he doesn’t. Not when he can prove that he’s strong — that he’s better!

Cracking sounds echo through the room as one after another tries to fight against the restraints. Yelena is the first to run to him, then you.

You both grab hold of him. Arms tightly wrapped around him as you pull him away. But he’s stronger. So much stronger.

“Please, bub. Please, let go,” you whisper, leaning your forehead against the side of his face. “I love you, too. Please.”

And suddenly, he does. He loosens his grip, his punches stop, and when the others gather around you two, you all pull him off the Void.

“I love you, too, Bob,” you whisper, kissing his cheek as you lie together on the ground.

All panting and groaning, but no one lets go of the group hug. It’s what everyone needs — after the past. After the Void. It’s what keeps you all grounded at the moment.

“Maybe we should think about a family name, though,” John jokes, causing you all to laugh softly.

Found family. Yes. That’s what the Thunderbolts are.

“Avengerzzzzz!” Alexei suggests, causing Bucky and John to groan in frustration.

Both of them might have a past, and maybe they hated one another. They still argue a lot, but when it comes to names Alexei suggests, they always have the same opinion. No!

Bob turns his head toward you, one of his arms curling around your waist as he leans his forehead against yours. He takes a shaky breath, his eyes closed.

“You do? You really do?”

“More than anything,” you mumble.

“Okay! Let’s get up. Here has to be an exit, I’m not ready to watch porn just yet!” John announces, pulling back.

You laugh, glaring playfully at him, while Yelena makes another joke about John and porn. But you don’t listen, your focus is on the man you love — on Bob.

“You’re not alone anymore. You got us,” you whisper before you break the distance between the two of you and press your lips softly against his.

Bob's breath hitches, but he immediately kisses you back. A bit clumsy. A bit shy. But full of love and adoration.

First time writing for Bob! If you have any ideas/requests, let me know!

@armystay89 @rogersbarber

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jks1uv · 24 days ago

Text

𝐹𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝐹𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑦 ; robert “bob” reynolds

| one-shot |

summary: y/n, meet bob. bob, meet y/n.

pairing: platonic fem!reader x bob + platonic avenger!reader x bob + platonic asgardian!reader x bob.

trope: found family (duh) + strangers to friends.

genre: fluff + slight angst + comedy.

warnings‼️: crude language + tall!reader (a little over 5’8) + spoilers!

word count: 1,754.

“Oh, hey! You’re here.” Bucky says as he watches you fly through the open balcony.

“Perfect timing.” Ava comments as your armor melts back into your skin, revealing your original outfit.

“So fucking cool.” She softly says in awe.

“Right? It’s also super convenient.” John crosses his arms, watching you switch back into civilian mode so languidly.

You lay your sword on the side of the coffee table in front of the couch, plopping down on it with a heavy sigh.

“Wait, what’s going on?” Bob asks, confused by the random spark of commotion.

“Y/n is here?” Yelena pokes her head out of the pantry, eyeing your exhausted head tipped back on the headrest with your eyes closed.

Bucky hands you a water bottle and smiles when you sense him.

You open your eyes to look up at him.

“Good to see you, kid.” His voice smooth and steely blue eyes kind.

“Thanks, you too.” You say as you accept the cool drink.

You, Thor, Loki, Scott, Hope, Cassie, Valkyrie, and Carol were off-world fighting an intergalactic enemy when The Void took almost all of New York into the shadow realm.

You just got back from the grueling trip a day ago.

“Well, well, well. It is the younger Asgardian.” Alexie affectionately pats your head.

You chuckle softly at the old santa’s loving actions.

“Where’s your dad?” Bucky’s eyes wander out the balcony when he hears silent noise following you.

“He’s getting beers with Valkyrie, he’ll join us later.”

You give a quick side-hug to Yelena and a crisp high-five to Ava when John straightens his back, expecting a welcome as well.

You walk straight ahead, not meaning to ignore him but step back and look to the side in surprise.

Your head snaps from him to Bucky, from Bucky to him and back. You blink rapidly, pointing a finger up at him and say, “What’s he doing here?”.

You can’t help how you sound.

“Oh. He's uhh, part of the team now.” Bucky shrugs.

You don't say anything but your face does. Bruh y'all couldn't find anyone else?

“He'll catch on fire if you stare at him any longer.” Ava says behind an amused smile.

“No, wait! Keep staring! I am recording just in case.” Alexie gives you a big thumbs up and is recording on an older version of the iPhone that’s not surprisingly cracked.

How he got ahold of technology before Steve is beyond you.

“I'm literally standing right here." John says in disbelief.

“Almost as if that is the whole fucking point, genius.” Yelena rolls her eyes and scoffs as she goes back into the pantry.

Bob is still confused but he has to admit, it's entertaining seeing everyone vouch for you.

He senses a great power in you, one that may very well rival his own.

You look oddly familiar but he can't place his finger on it. Where have I seen you before?

“Oh, before I forget.” Bucky moves aside so you can meet the new guy.

“Y/n, this is Bob.”

He extends his metal arm out to the fresh set of new eyes and they're wide in curiosity.

You put your hand up and wave, giving the new addition to the team your best welcome. “Hi, nice to meet you.”

He now has a full view of you.

You're nice, he thinks.

Bob doesn’t takes first impressions lightly and since yours is a good one, that counts for everything.

You're tall, he estimates your original height to be a little over 5'8 since your heeled boots add quite a few inches to you.

He believes you'd be the same height as him with them on.

Your shiny hair and bright eyes contrast nicely with your smooth skin. Your youthful appearance is refreshing to see and invokes an almost familial feeling in him.

Your smile is warm, comforting.

You don't seem to have anything to hide, it's like you're letting him see you for who you are on the first meeting .

It intimidates him— the confidence you have in yourself.

He wishes to learn that one day.

Your features resemble someone he's seen before, he knows it.

It's getting kind of frustrating trying to remember something he can't.

“Bob, meet Y/n.”

You assess the added member; hair is medium length, dark brown and wavy. He seems pretty tall, your guess is 6 feet. He's also timid. His body language is reserved and calm.

Bob smiles shyly, showing his top set of perfectly straight and white teeth. He does a little wave, eliciting a small laugh at his actions.

“Hi. I-It's nice to see you, too.” He repeats your sentiment and you can't help but smile.

He reminds you of a little boy on his first day of school.

Cute.

“Well, I’m gonna go sleep forever now so I’ll see y’all later.” You announce before shortly departing.

You set a mental reminder about texting Peter to meet up after you wake up to go do something.

Everyone goes their separate ways.

John goes out for an interview rehearsal (that’s a thing??). Bucky is joining Sam, Clint, and Bruce to train the younger avengers. Ava phases through the walls, you assume she’s going to her room. Yelena takes her snacks and father to the theater room upstairs for a movie.

Bob stands in the common room, studying your sword.

“Wow.” He whispers.

Bob marvels at the sight of your beautiful sword.

The grip seems about 3 inches wide and thick. It’s made of pure gold along with the guards. The grip and guards have intricate designs drawn on them.

The blade is a long and thick slab of metallic steel, seemingly heavy to hold.

He spots a design on the blade. The design is gold and creates an illusion of glass, a very clean mirror that can be used as a prism.

Bob can tell the designs were made by hand, impressive craftsmanship in detail.

He looks closely, a particular detail catching his eye.

There’s a small symbol in the middle of the guards, an emblem of some sort.

Bob squints his eyes as he tries to understand what it could be, decipher its meaning.

“It’s a rune of my realm.”

Bob immediately jumps up and yelp, his palm clamps over his mouth, muffling it a bit.

His breathing is as erratic as his heartbeat and you feel guilty.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you, I thought you heard me come back.”

You weren’t stealthy but you weren’t noticeable, either. Still, you feel as though you should’ve made your presence known.

“I’m truly, very sorry.” You apologize again as you nervously peer at him.

He gulps and blinks. “It’s okay, I’m okay. It’s fine.” Bob nods to himself, a tightlipped smile on his face.

You lick your lips and purse them, nodding slightly to yourself.

“Okay.” You say softly.

It’s awkward for a beat before you two speak up again.

“I—”

“You—”

You both close your lips and stare at one another before laughing in embarrassment.

“You can go first.” You offer.

You’re sweet he decides.

“No, no. I-I think you were saying something first.” He insists.

You smile and go ahead. “I was just saying that I’m gonna take that and go back, for real this time.”

You hold out your arm and open palm, calling your sword to you.

She listens and is compelled by your hand like a magnet.

“Woahhh.” He breathes.

You laugh, successful in the art of showing off. It’s all about subtlety.

“That’s so cool, how-how did you do that?” He tilts his head quizzically.

“Where I’m from, magic is in everything. My grandfather had this sword forged long before I was born and is embedded with magic.”

You trace the blade with your free hand, remembering the hard work you toiled to be deemed worthy of carrying the responsibility of the blade.

“Where are you from?” He wonders out loud.

“Asgard.”

Bob gasps and snaps his fingers like he just figured out the missing piece of a puzzle (he did).“That’s it! That-that’s where I know you from! You’re Thor’s daughter!”

You chuckle softly at his excitement, his bubbly demeanor melting away your tiredness.

“The one and only.” You joke as you raise your hands and shrug nonchalantly.

“Wow, man. I gotta tell you, you’re awesome.” He guffaws.

You feel warm at the praise, not really expecting anything from this guy you just met.

“Oh, wow… um, thank you. That’s nice of you to say that.” You say shyly as you scratch your arm.

He nods. “Yeah, sure. No problem.”

“You’re great, too.” You blurt out.

He looks at you and you see an insecure look on his face.

“Your powers are really cool, a thousand exploding suns and all that.”

His eyes shine with an unspoken curiosity. One that says, You really think so?

“R-Really?” A silent laugh escapes him and his adam’s apple reverberates.

“Yeah! You’re super fast and really strong. You’re even bullet and knife proof.” You beam. “Like me.”

Ever since The Thunderbolts* weakened The Void with the power of friendship, Bob has never felt more connected.

There’s an entire group of people who welcome him and treat him with the care and respect he deserves.

Your statement was clear and concise, you’re not trying to imply anything. There’s no hidden agenda with you.

You were simply making an observation and connecting it with yourself; a very well-respected, renowned hero.

Bob’s no hero, he’s still trying to find things that make him feel like himself.

You’re young, so young and filled with such an encouraging spirit that makes him feel willing.

“Yeah.” He softly agrees. “I guess I am like you.”

You sense a deep sadness in him, something that troubles him and obstructs him from speaking freely.

You don’t want to force him out but you also don’t want to come across as overly sensitive.

“I’m not sleepy anymore. Do you wanna… maybe go do something?”

Peter can wait, you think. You also think he and Bob would get along well.

He thinks about it for a moment.

He doesn’t have training anytime soon and has read up all his books. Some new scenery would do him good and this way, he’d get to know you better.

He wants to be your friend and hopes you share the same sentiment.

Little does he know, you’re almost there.

“Yeah, sure. Why not.” He smiles once more and this time, it reaches his eyes.

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daughterofthequeen · 12 days ago

Text

Real ones don’t know if they want a Bob or need a Yelena

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loversrocktvgirl2 · 18 days ago

Text

my mini multiverse of madness…

New Friend (Bob Reynolds x Reader) part two

word count: 1k

part 2 of ?

previous part: part one

masterlist

Bob decides to text you that night. After all, if he wants to form more friendships, he should probably reach out to you. So after a quick discussion with Yelena of what he should text you, he sends you a message.

Hi, it’s Bob from book club :)

“Okay, now you have to put the phone down and don’t check it until it dings,” Yelena plugs the phone back in.

“Why can’t I just wait?” Bob asks.

“Oh, Bob, we all do this. We stare at the phone and we reload the page, or we open and close the app or phone, and we wait and we wait for a reply that doesn’t come, and then we get sad and then—” Yelena is cut off by the phone dinging. Bob glances at the phone then back up at Yelena, who shrugs. You texted him back.

Hey Bob, good to hear from you!

“What…what do I say next?” Bob questions aloud.

“Oh, c’mere,” Yelena picks up the phone, types a message, and sends.

“Wha…? Yelena,” Bob complains.

“It’s going to work,” Yelena assures with a nod.

Bob picks up the phone to read the text that Yelena had sent from him to you.

Yeah! Really liked book club so far. Have you read any other good books later?

Bob looks back up at Yelena. “How is this good?” Yelena shrugs. You respond a moment later.

Totally! I just finished The Midnight Library. Kind of heartbreaking but hopeful, you know?

Bob stares at the message. “What do I say to that? I haven’t read that one.”

Yelena, arms crossed, suggests, “Say you haven’t read it, but you’d like to. Because you’d like to talk to her more. That’s how books work, right? Brains… talking.”

“…I guess?”

He types, deletes, retypes, and finally sends:

I haven’t read that one. Should I? I trust your taste.

Yelena whistles. “Smooth, Bob. You’re learning.”

The next text comes.

Definitely! I have a copy if you want to borrow it :)

Bob reads that line four times.

“She wants to lend me a book,” he whispers. “That’s…a good sign, right?”

Yelena nods like it’s obvious. “Next step: hangout. Suggest a time. Offer snacks. Everyone likes snacks.”

He hesitates, then types:

That would be great. Maybe I could bring coffee or something and we could read together?

“I like it! Everybody loves coffee!” Yelena cheers.

Alexei pokes his head in through the door. “Are we making coffee or…?”

“No, Dad, it’s six pm. No coffee. I’m helping Bob right now,” Yelena informs, and Alexei nods and leaves.

Your text arrives a second later.

I would love that!

“Good, good. Come up with a time and a place. Go to the bookstore, you know she goes to the bookstore,” Yelena suggests, leaning over Bob’s shoulder to read the text conversation and what he types as he types it.

Bob nods, and begins wording his reply back to you.

Can we meet at the bookstore café?

A moment. Then your answer.

Yeah! Tomorrow afternoon good?

Bob grins. Definitely, yes.

“I’m so proud of you, Bob!” Yelena cheers and wraps her arms around him, hugging him so tightly that Bob feels like he might just die. But it’s nice, coming from Yelena. She’s awesome.

You two meet at a quiet corner table in the bookstore café the next afternoon. Bob shows up ten minutes early, already rereading the text thread like a study guide. He brings a small notebook, pens, and his phone—just in case.

When you arrive, he stands too quickly and knocks over a chair. But you laugh instead of flinching. That helps.

“It’s good to see you again!” you smile. You hand him the book.

“Oh, thanks,” Bob replies softly, happy but really, really nervous.

You sit, read, and talk a little between chapters. There’s a gentle peace about it. Bob doesn’t feel the Void tugging at the edges of his mind. Not here.

When you have to go home, you give him a side hug. After all, you’ve only recently met him. But it makes butterflies dance in Bob’s stomach. And it definitely doesn’t help that he’s got Can’t Touch This stuck in his head. Why are the butterflies dancing in sync…?

When he gets home, Bob finds Yelena already waiting with Alexei, both sipping tea suspiciously.

“I thought that was a British thing,” Bob says, putting his tote bag down on the ground next to him.

“It’s a me thing now,” Yelena informs.

“Oh, okay.”

“So…?” Yelena prods with an excited smile.

“It was nice,” Bob nods, smiling a little. “It was nice.”

“Would you care to elaborate, share some more details with us maybe?” Alexei asks hopefully.

Yelena cocks her head, then leans toward Alexei’s cup and smells it. “That’s not tea, that’s alcohol!”

“IT IS A LIQUID EITHER WAY.”

Bob laughs—a real laugh, full and warm, the kind that surprises even him. Yelena grins, victorious. Alexei shrugs and takes another sip of “tea.”

“I think we’re going to hang out again soon,” Bob admits, settling into the armchair. “She lent me a book. We read together. It was… really peaceful.”

“That’s so wholesome I could cry,” Yelena wipes an invisible tear, then immediately grabs Bob’s arm. “You like her, don’t you?”

Bob looks down at the cover of The Midnight Library. “I think I could,” he says honestly.

Alexei leans back in his chair. “Just don’t mess it up. Or bring shame to our coffee.”

Yelena rolls her eyes. “Ignore him. He once tried to impress a girl by deadlifting a vending machine.”

“It worked,” Alexei mutters.

Bob clutches the book closer to his chest, smiling softly to himself.

He doesn’t know exactly what this is—what it could become—but for once, the unknown doesn’t feel terrifying.

Bob feels now like he’s opening up a new chapter in his life, one that seems to involve reading a lot of chapters in books from you.

taglist

@spaceycat @vidanand @xo-cench @raikan624 @yeehawgiddyup13 @wpdarlingpan @puer-aurea

just thunderbolts/bob

@papitas-con-sal @yesshewrites1

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stoic613 · 7 days ago

Text

/Flawless/

Pairing: ~Bob/Robert Reynolds/The Sentry/The VoidxFem/Reader~

Warnings: Fluff, Strong language, 18+, Smut

Chapter 2/? (Can be read as a standalone)

Part 1- https://www.tumblr.com/stoic613/783557205457846272/flawless

You typed on your computer finishing a report on your last patient. You’ve been at your office most of the day so you haven’t had time to socialize throughout the tower especially with Bob.

There was a light knock at your door and you pushed your chair out to stand up. As you opened the door you were faced with a nervous bob.

Your face instantly lit up as you made eye contact with him. He stood there with his hands shoved in his pockets but you can tell he was fidgeting his fingers and you gave him a soft smile.

It’s been two weeks since the incident with yelena catching you two almost kiss. She basically told the whole tower and has been teasing you guys ever since.

But that didn’t bother you at all, in fact you and Bob got closer and started hanging out more

You two had more in common than you thought, you guys have started playing video games, reading books, and Bob would sometimes help you make dinner.

Both of you never brought up the almost kiss, it didn’t bother you because you thought Bob needed space but you two seemed closer than ever

It was obvious you both liked each other

“Hi Bob, what’s up?”

“Uh-um I have a big headache, can you help?” He said looking down to his feet.

Your eyes furrowed, worried something might have triggered him.

You nodded your head and gently grabbed his arm pulling him in

“Of course, you can sit on the table”

He only nods and walks past you quietly and this makes you even more concerned

“How bad is the pain?” You ask as you take off the stethoscope from around your neck to put them on

You slowly go a bit between his legs and placed the stethoscope on his heart

Normally this would have been very unprofessional with any other patient but with Bob it only felt right. You two were drawn together naturally

He looked flustered by your action and held his breath

“Um I- uh a 4?” Bobs hands clenched, he so badly wanted to pull you in and hold you but he knew he couldn’t

You could hear his heart rate instantly shoot up, he found the floor so interesting now since he refused to make eye contact with you and you noticed this while taking off the scope

“Bob?” You say now being suspicious

“Yes” still not looking at you

“You don’t have a headache do you” you watched as his face started to warm up as he was caught in his lie and this made you smile

“How many times have I said you can visit me anytime you want. Even if you’re not hurt”

he still wasn’t looking at you so your hand reached to his cheek and gently moved his head towards you

“I-I am hurt, I haven’t seen or h-heard from you all day” your heart warmed after hearing that

“I know, Its been pretty chaotic today I’m sorry. Did you still want to try out the pool? I understand if you don’t”

One day you two were mindlessly wandering around the tower until you stumbled upon a gigantic pool out of the many rooms. You guys then made it your mission to explore every single room in the building but agreed to go swimming one of these days.

That day being today which you felt guilty because you got caught up

He nods his head and smiles “I still do, I just got worried you didn’t want to go with me anymore” you saw how he bit the inside of his cheek.

Your hand went from his cheek to his hand “of course i want to go with you Bob, I rather it be with you”

He only nodded but his eyes never looked away, your heart rate picked up and everything around you slowed.

Bob so badly wanted to lean in, his thoughts were getting louder telling him to pull you in by the waist and kiss you

“Your eyes are glowing again, are you okay?”

Your voice soften and broke him out of his trance, he closed his eyes and shook his head trying to get his eyes back to normal

“Y-yeah sorry, um how about we go swimming in an hour?” He suggested and you nodded agreeing with him

“Swimming? That sounds fun”

You both turned your heads and saw John leaning on the door frame

“Hello John, another wound?” You say since he’s a regular to get patched up from missions

“Nah I just wanted to come see your pretty face before I head over to the store. Did you want to come with?”

Your eyebrows raised not expecting him to openly flirt with you like that. You felt bobs hand twitch, he knew John liked you, he suddenly took interest in you recently and saw how much he flirted with you. Bob didn’t know what this feeling was in his chest. It was like he had been stabbed, neither him or the void liked it and that’s something they can both agree on

“Oh well thank you but I have plans already” you politely declined sensing tension

“Mind if I tag along later?” John asked eyeing Bob and smirked

“Yes actually” bobs voice was lower and your eyes widened

“Uh-um no! In fact invite the whole team, that would be a great idea. Just bring everyone” you say trying to distract John and not have a fight in your office between the two

Bob let go of your hand and hopped off the table purposely looking away from you

Your heart dropped at his actions and you see him squeezing his eyes shut as if he’s trying to get rid of something going through his head.

You hesitate to reach out to him but he moves before you could.

“Bob?” You say watching him push past John and walk out the door. You didn’t move or say anything for a moment, the thought of running after him occurred but maybe he needed space for now.

“Wow, that actually worked”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion until realization dawned on you

“You-you did that on purpose walker?” Crossing your arms, you’re furious at him for making Bob feel that way.

“He’s practically in love with you, it’s pathetic seeing him do nothing about it” he waves his arms frustrated

You blushed not really saying anything. Of course you can see there’s something going on between the two of you but you didn’t want to overstep any boundaries in case.

“Hell it’s making the whole team frustrated seeing you guys give each other puppy eyes across the room. Everyone can see it but you two, I’m just getting the ball rolling for you guys” he smirks and nods in satisfaction like he accomplished something

“Well now he might hate me because of you” worried settled in as you recalled how he avoided your touch and walked off

“Oh please, he wouldn’t last ten minutes being mad at you. It’s me he has a problem with, he’s jealous”

It didn’t occur to you that he might be jealous but now it all makes sense. Seeing how he reacted everytime John walked into the room and talked to you. You thought maybe it was because they already didn’t get along with each other.

Your cheeks start to warm up at Bob being a little possessive

“I’ll leave you to your thoughts, I’m still bringing everyone to the pool so wear something sexy” John pushes off the frame of the door to walk out

“You better not try anything later walker” your stern voice not affecting him at all

“No promises” he lifts his hands up as surrender and walks out.

Later on you stood in front of your mirror checking yourself out in your bikini. You decided on a simple black two piece but you liked the way it hugged your body

You smiled content with it and wrapped a towel around you.

You checked your phone to see a text from Yelena asking where you were at. You put on your flip flops and headed to the pool.

Before you opened the doors you stopped for a second, you haven’t heard from Bob and this made you anxious on how he’ll act towards you

You exhaled through your nose and pushed through the doors.

There was music blasting and you saw Bucky sitting on one of the chairs reading a magazine, Ava messing with John splashing him with water and disappearing when he tried reaching for her

And Alexei yelling loudly while jumping in the pool causing a big splash to go onto Yelena and Bob who were both sitting on the edge of the pool with their feet in the water

No one noticed you walk in except for Bob, his eyes immediately caught yours as you walked to the chairs near Bucky.

You smiled at him hoping he would return it, and he did but he quickly looked to yelena now paying attention to what she was saying

You set your things on the chair and sighed

“Why’re you pouting?” Bucky said flipping the page not even glancing at you

“Um, I’m not pouting. Was I pouting?” Were you being obvious on how miserable you felt?

Bucky only smirked and took a sip of his beer not responding. You rolled your eyes and took off the towel that was wrapped around you

A low whistle was heard and you knew it was John. You rolled your eyes once again and shook your head, you couldn’t help but look to see how Bob reacted

His eyes were stuck to you, it wasn’t a look that meant he only saw you for your body but one where he wanted nothing more but to worship how beautiful you were inside and out. He admired you until he realized he got caught and turned away

His face warmed up, you saw how he still wore a shirt probably too self conscious to take it off but you knew he was red from his chest up

You remembered the last time you saw him shirtless making you bite your lips

As you were walking towards him, Alexei picked you up making you scream and threw you in

The water consumed you and as you swam to the surface gasping for air you saw Bob ready to jump in with a worried look

“Hey! What if I didn’t know how to swim” you made your way to hold onto the edge of the pool

“You’re surrounded by the avengerz, you’re fine!” He yelled and jumped in after

Some time passed and everyone still seemed to have so much energy, even Bucky went into the pool and Alexei pushed Bob in with Yelena

“Let’s play chicken!” Ava suggested as she climbed on top of Bucky not giving him an option

You laughed and suddenly you were being lifted, you yelped and looked down to see you were on John’s shoulders

He smirked knowing exactly what he was doing, you glared at him and see Bucky with Ava hurling towards you

“H-Hey! That’s not fair, your dude has a metal arm” you say keeping your hands stretched out trying to put a distance between you and Ava

“That’s too bad, you should’ve chosen a better partner” she smirked

You put up a good fight until yelena came in on top of Alexei pushing Ava to the water and now you

“That’s it! Get them Lena! That’s my girl” Alexei says proudly as you fell to the water

You laughed once you emersed, you looked around and noticed Bob wasn’t in the room anymore

Worried you stepped out the pool, no one said anything about you drying yourself and leaving since they were too busy doing a rematch

You had a feeling he might’ve went to his room since it was at the end of the hall.

Your feet hitting the cold floor and water still dripping from your body leaving a trail

You held the towel tightly as you slowly opened his door.

“Bob?” You peeked in and saw him sitting at the edge of his bed, face in his hands while they tightly gripped his hair and his eyes closed, You heard him whispering to himself. You locked his door and slowly walked over to him

Once you reached him you called out to him one more time

“Bob, talk to me” he looks up and you see how his natural eye color was fighting a mix of yellow

You sit down next to him “did I do something wrong?”

He shook his head “n-no of course not. It’s not you”

Still not understanding you reached to hold his hands that were pulling on his hair not wanting him to hurt himself

“Does it have to do with your eyes changing color and the intrusive thoughts you mentioned last time?”

He nodded “yeah, it won’t s-stop”

“Okay, okay um what was it saying earlier when John was there?”

He hesitated to tell you

“It’s okay, I’m not here to judge” you reassured

“H-He um he wanted to hurt him, told me we should hurt him and I almost did. That’s why I walked out” he expected you to walk out on him, he wouldn’t blame you if you did

You squeezed your hands slightly letting him know you’re not going anywhere

“What about the time I mentioned my ex”

He took a deep breath and exhaled almost shaking

“He wanted to kill him” his tone was a little more stronger, as if he was agreeing with his other side

“Well, you’re not the only one but I think you’re doing so good at controlling yourself” you smile at him and he does the same

Inside he’s actually dying, he can barely control himself feeling his hands against yours, your knees brushed against each other

His eyes saw the water droplets on your body going down to the towel, he’s seen what’s under that towel and he’s on the verge of cracking

He closes his eyes and looks away

“You can tell me Bob, remember we said we would try practicing. How can I help?”

He bites his lips “y-you’re actually making it w-worse”

His words caught you off guard, he saw how his words hurt you and you slightly let go of his hands

“Oh, I can give you space” before you can fully move he grabbed your hands again

“N-No! I didn’t- I didn’t mean it that way. I just-“ he took a deep breath. You saw the way his eyes were glowing in and out of the color

“What’s he saying now?”

He swallowed hard “He-no. We want you” he corrected himself

It was like the air was knocked out of you hearing that response. You didn’t have time to respond as Bob continued to ramble

“Y-You’ve completely taken over my mind, our m-mind. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about you. Everytime I see walker with you I get insanely j-jealous because I know I can never c-compete with a guy like him. I don’t deserve you-we don’t deserve you. It’s like you’ve completely bewitched me-us and I would let you do it again and again. God even just you looking at me like that-”

Your hands held the crane of his neck and pulled his head down to kiss him. You heard him moan slightly in content as you moved your lips against his

It was slow and soft, your stomach was exploding with butterflies from his confession.

You slowly pulled away seeing him lean in with you as if he wanted more. You both were slightly out of breath and looked at each other

“I feel the same way about you Bob, I like you a lot”

His face warmed up and he exhaled in relief “R-Really? Can I k-kiss you again?”

You smiled and nodded eagerly. He leaned in more confident this time and took your lips against his

His hand hovered over your waist, desperately wanting to hold you but he was scared how you would react

You tilt your head slightly to deepen the kiss, a low moan came out of you and he almost whimpered hearing that sound

You felt his hand on your waist but he hesitantly pulled back. You scooted closer to him and lifted your leg wrapping it around him. You now sat on his lap straddling him and pulled his hand back to where it belong, on your waist

He exhaled and you can hear his breath shaking and you never once broke the kiss

It started out slow and soft but now it gradually turned to slow and hard

Your lips buzzed from how long you guys have been making out, teeth clashing here and there and your core was aching

You craved friction, you lowered your hips more feeling how hard he was and grind your hips against him

You both moaned and pulled back to catch air, you saw his lips now swollen, his hair was messy and this made bite your lip making your core ache even more

“D-Do you want this?” He asked not feeling so confident anymore

Your hands went to the towel and you slowly undid the knot making it fall off your shoulders and to the floor. Leaving you just in your black bikini

“Yes Bob, I want you so bad” your hands went underneath his shirt and flat against his stomach feeling every ab and muscle

He whimpered from how cold your hands were. “Do you want this?” You questioned making sure you weren’t pressuring him into anything

“Y-Yes! God yes, please” his hands gripped your waist tightly. You knew it would leave a light bruise later on but you definitely didn’t mind it

“I just-I’ve never done this before, I don’t know what to do” he says almost ashamed

You shook your head “it’s okay, just follow my lead okay?”

His eyes were filled with desperation and lust as he looked up to you. Hands still on his stomach you pulled on the shirt hinting to take it off

You saw how his hands were shaking and pulled from the top and took it off swiftly

The action and sight made you clench your legs around him. Now you weren’t restricted from the shirt anymore making you roam your hands from his stomach to his chest and arms

He moaned at your touch and you kissed him again, this time it was fast and hard

You kept grinding against him trying to relieve the ache between your legs

Bob was losing his mind until he felt his thoughts being interrupted, his actions were being taken over and his eyes glowing again

You felt him reach up behind you and untie the knot making your top fall

You quietly gasped and pulled back, his eyes now switching back to normal

“O-Oh god I’m sorry, I- it wasn’t me. I s-shouldn’t have done that”

You laughed and he still looked worried

“Bob it’s okay, you have my full permission to do whatever you want to me. I mean that for the both of you”

His breath was ragged knowing what you meant, he gulped and looked at your breast and looked at you again

You nodded giving him permission and he leaned in taking your nipple into his mouth

Your mouth parted at the feeling while your hands went to his hair pulling on it slightly

He moaned from it and took more of your boob into his mouth and his other hand playing with your other boob.

You moaned as he sucked and licked leaving hickeys only to go do the same to the other side

You noticed his actions were more confident and his hold more stronger, you had a feeling he kept switching from Bob to dark side Bob but you couldn’t confirm without seeing his eyes

You heard a tear and you looked down to see your bottoms have been ripped apart

“I’m so sorry” he says as if he wasn’t the one in control

You didn’t have time to argue when you were being lifted up with him as he moved to have his back resting against the wooden bed frame

You went to untie the knot to his swim shorts pulling them down and him kicking them off

You looked down and noticed how huge he was

There you both were completely naked now, nothing but the sound of of you both out of breath

“Are-are you sure?” He asked you one more time

“Yes”

“What about a c-condom?”

You smiled down to him as your eyes admired every part of his face

“I’m on birth control, did you want to use a condom?”

“No” He answered almost not letting you finish your sentence

“Okay” you leaned down and pecked his lips

Your hand reached down to line up his cock at your entrance

Bobs hands went to grip the crease where your thigh and hip met as you slowly sank down, not taking him all the way. It felt like you were teasing him and he threw his head back and his mouth opened letting out a deep moan

“I-I-oh god” he whimpered the moment you sat all the way down

You moaned at how deep he felt in you and you couldn’t stand the ache

“F-Fuck” his moans were ragged as you started to move and bounce on his cock

“Oh fuck, this feels too good” you whimpered gripping his shoulders to have more balance

You were slowly getting tired from how hard and fast you were bouncing, as soon as Bob noticed your movements falter it was like a flip was switched

He gripped your waist and slammed his hips up, you screamed at how good it felt and not expecting him to take control

Your moans were out of control as he repeated his movements, you felt your climax getting closer

“P-Please don’t s-stop” you moan looking down to look at him. His eyes glowed more than ever

“I don’t plan to” he growled make your skin clap from how hard and fast he was going getting you closer to your orgasm

“I’m-I- I’m gonna cum” you didn’t have time to really finish your sentence when your eyes rolled back and you let out a loud moan

Your head was on his shoulder trying to catch your breath until he flipped you over

You didn’t have time to speak when he thrusted in you again

You moaned feeling that ache coming back while still feeling sensitive

“You’re so beautiful” he kisses you and each thrusts turns more aggressive

The feeling was almost too much and you felt his hand press to your lower stomach feeling how deep he was in you

This made you scream and your nails digged into his back

“F-Fuck, I’m close. Can I cum in you please” you felt him say in your ear

“Yes! Make me yours Bob!” He thrusted in you a few more times before you both moaned loudly cumming at the same time.

The bedframe cracked loudly making you gasp, you both calmed down from your high and he slipped out.

“Shoot, I think-I broke the bedframe” he looked worried now and looking down to see if you got hurt

You laughed and this made his eyes from worried to happy

“You-you lost control” you continued laughing

He smiled and pushed the hair from your face to lean down and kiss you again.

“I always lose control with you around” he whispered

You blush and forced him to lay on you “let’s just rest for a moment yeah? I loved every moment”

“Do-do you want t-to go on a date with m-me?” He asked shyly like a few minutes ago didn’t just happen

“I would love to”

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mallory524 · 10 days ago

Note

omggg hiii I was just popping in to put in a request for a bob x spidergirl!reader fic 👀 I was thinking they have an unspoken established relationship but one day reader sees bob having an interaction with another girl and leads to a miscommunication/reader having doubts I’m just a sucker for angst with a happy ending hehe 🙂‍↔️

(IM A SUCKER FOR MISCOMMUNICATION WITH A HAPPY ENDING)

heavily implied

bob x spidergirl!reader

tags- a year after thunderbolts*, spoilers i suppose, brief mentions of gunfire, sort of established relationship, jealousy, overthinking, miscommunication with a happy ending, thunderbolts are glad to help bob with his and reader's clumsy romantic endeavors

word count- 1658

notes- if anyone thinks the reader jumps to conclusions way too quickly, i need you to understand that this is exactly how my brain works too. one time a girl told the guy i like "see you tomorrow in class!" and I completely convinced myself (with 0 proof whatsoever) that they had a secret study hangout going two times a week. found out later that he doesn't like her that way and ofc there's no secret study group. i'm just completely insane. this goes out to the overthinkers like myself. also so sorry i meant to post this last night and then i fell asleep

Saturday afternoon is your favorite part of the week. It’s when you typically meet up with Bob, the very sweet guy you've started to become close with lately who briefly put all of NYC into a shame dimension last year but he didn't mean to, it's all water under the bridge

A little while back, you'd been "patrolling" around sunset, as you usually do, and there'd been a shootout. After breaking it all up, you noticed the one civilian who'd actually gotten hit in the crossfire was stumbling into an alley by himself. You rushed to check on him, only to see the fabric around his shoulder a little tattered, but his skin completely in tact.

You talked for hours, and eventually suggested seeing each other again. Now, months later, you see each other once a week. You've gotten super close and learned a lot about each other.

You and Bob both have stuff you don't like talking about, but you feel safe confiding in one another about a good amount of it. You know about Bob's past, you know about the Void, and you certainly know about Valentina.

You don't even ask to hang out anymore, it's just implied. Every Saturday, noon, the park halfway between the Watchtower and your home. You always duck into a back alley, cram your suit into a backpack, and go to meet Bob. It's really nice.

Bob's crazy about you, too. He thinks it's so cool the way you help so many people, and how you just throw the mask on and no one knows who you are. No one but him.

He sees you swinging around town on tv or from his window, and the Thunderbolts/Avengerz joke that that's "Bob's mystery girl". He always laughs or rolls his eyes to play it off, but it is kind of funny how they haven't caught on that they're actually right.

On this particular afternoon, you're swinging closer and closer to your usual hangout spot and you land on top of one of the nearby shops to scan the area for Bob… and you find him, alright.

Bob is standing close to where you usually meet, talking to some beautiful girl you’ve never seen before. She has long dark hair, around the same age as you and Bob, and she seems neat and put together in general. She seems quite comfortable with him. This is so weird. Who is this? What's happening??

What other young women does Bob know in New York? He hasn’t lived in the city that long.

You rack your brain for answers. You know this isn't one of Bob's New Avengers friends; Yelena's blonde, and you've actually met Ava twice.

You can't recall Bob mentioning another girl before. If this was any other guy, you'd think he was being intentionally secretive… but that's not Bob. He wouldn't mislead you.

Maybe he just really likes this girl. Maybe Bob kept this from you because he felt no reason to tell you... because as nice as these past few months have been, you've never actually made things official.

The two of you go to the park a lot, and sometimes you get food or see live music, but friends can do all those things, too.

Oh my God what if I read too much into this? Maybe this whole time he's just assumed we were only friends and I’ve being misreading everything-

As per usual, neither of you had stated explicitly that you were meeting up, so you figured he wouldn't mind if you skipped just this once. You really can't see yourself cutting in and trying to interrupt their conversation. So you leave.

An hour later, your phone vibrates.

bob- hey are you coming today?

You can't believe it took him an hour to actually reach out. Maybe the two of them continued talking for an hour and he only noticed that I wasn't there just now-

you- sorry no I've been busy

bob- ok no worries!

Bob was actually very worried.

"And she didn't say anything else?" Yelena asks, sitting between Ava and Walker on the couch. They’re trying to help Bob, who has been moping on the floor since he got home.

He shakes his head. “No. Just … busy.”

"Well maybe she really was busy." Bucky suggests from the other side of the room, grabbing a snack.

"Maybe. Or maybe she's just done with this. I shouldn’t have even texted her about it, I’m just bothering her." Bob says with a shrug, trying to pretend that that possibility doesn’t break his heart.

Everyone starts loudly objecting in unison.

"No, DO NOT give up on this so easily."

"Bob, I swear if you ghost this girl-"

"You've gotta think, man," John says, leaning forward. "What happened last time you talked? Did you say something to make her mad?"

"No, everything was fine."

"And you showed up on time today?"

"Yes! I mean I ... I actually ran into Mel and we talked for a little. But I was near the spot we always meet at. She usually has no trouble finding me if I'm in the nearby area-"

"WOAH WOAH," John interrupts. "You ran into Mel?"

"Yeah, isn't that weird? I never see her-"

"Bob, does this girl know Mel?"

"Um, I don't know how she would. Why?" Bob asks.

Everyone else starts to put the pieces together.

"Ohhh, you understand what has happened?" Alexei joins in, sitting in the big chair that's usually Bob's.

"What, you think she showed up and saw us talking and thought — that I was busy?"

"Bob, buddy!" John exclaims, trying to get him to understand. "Not just busy, she saw you talking to another girl! She probably thinks you like Mel."

"What? I don’t like Mel like that. I - I barely know Mel!"

"We all know that! Do you think your friend knows that?" Ava asks him.

Bob gets what they're all trying to say now, he’s just surprised. He’s never had this problem before.

He has some experience with dating, but it’s been a while. That was back in school, and definitely more of a 'some girl asked me to homecoming and I wore an uncomfortable suit and she went home with someone else' kind of situation.

The idea that someone so badass and nice and beautiful would be this upset over him? He's not sure if he buys it. He's not even sure that you like him that way. You two haven't said that you're "seeing each other" yet. It's been heavily implied, but never stated. Bob never knows if you're going to say it, and the idea of saying it himself is too scary.

But if this is true, if you really saw him in the park today and you were hurt by it, he has to find out - and he has to fix it.

bob- can we please meet at the park tonight? maybe in 20 minutes if you aren't busy?

you- okay see you then

You get to the park, and it's sort of funny how it feels like a doover of this afternoon, except the park is dark now and you're both feeling a bit nervous about a lot things.

He waves and you jog up to him.

"So what's up? Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I mean I'm fine, but you know. Today was weird" Bob says, trying to find the best way to verbalize his thoughts, "You've never cancelled before. And - and I had to ask you where you were! You didn't let me know you couldn't make it."

You're surprised at how affected by this he sounds to be, since you were the one who was upset in the first place. "Bob, I should've texted earlier, but to be fair, you didn't even notice that I wasn't there for like, an hour."

"Of course I noticed! I sat here waiting for you. I didn't know if I was wrong for always just assuming that you were coming. I wasn't sure if I should ... bother you or not." he says. He sounds kind of sad. You hate the idea that he was sitting here all alone for an hour, waiting for you.

"Bob, I'm sorry. I just - uh - I saw you talking to someone and I wasn't sure if maybe you... wanted to keep talking to her or something," you say, sort of dancing around what you're really trying to say, but he knows.

"Ugh, they were right," he mutters to himself.

You give a bit of a confused look and he starts again. "That's Mel, she works for Valentina but she doesn't seem to want to anymore, so we all sort of feel bad. She talks to Bucky a lot. She's actually uh kinda nice... but it's really not what- today when we were talking- it isn't what you thought it was." Bob hurriedly explains.

He may have fumbled a bit at the end, but that was all you needed to hear.

"I feel so silly," you say, awkwardly laughing.

“How?”

“Well I jumped to conclusions so fast, and then I didn’t even tell you what was wrong. It’s probably because we haven’t…”

You look at Bob. He’s just looking right back at you. With so much patience and care.

You realize that you can tell him what’s been on your mind.

He’s not going to laugh at you. In fact, he knows what you’re going to say. You can tell.

“Bob are we seeing each other? Like, dating?”

He smiles and looks down. “Oh um I don’t know. I mean I guess I thought we were but I wasn’t sure…”

“Yeah well I’d like to make that official. If that’s what you want, too, of course.”

He finally looks up at you, with that little smile still on his face. He knew where this was going, and he still couldn’t believe it.

“Yup. I want that, too.”

(this was so much longer than i initially intended for it to be. oops)

#thunderbolts*#thunderbolts x reader #bob reynolds #bob reynolds x reader #bob x fem!reader #x reader #asks #spider!reader

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theonewiththefanfics · 4 days ago

Text

Pain in the Light (one-shot)

Synopsis: Feelings can be difficult, especially when you don't truly feel worthy of love. And sometimes, when your biggest dream comes true, it's hard to believe it possible, leaving you exposed and raw.

Pairing: Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x fem!Reader (ex-Black Widow)

Genre: mainly angsty, bit of fluff in the end (Bob is working through a lot in this, and learning how to allow himself to be loved :) )

Warnings: canon-typical violence, swearing, implied exploitation of children (nothing is ever described, but there are certain implications), injuries of broken bones :) can't really think of anything else that needs to be added

Word count: 12,477

Technically Part 2 to Peace in the Darkness, but can be read alone :). English isn’t my first language, minimally proof-read so proceed with caution :D All characters belong to Marvel

Bob never listened to the people who said shadows grew longer in the dark because they didn’t. Shadows were made of it, so they could only return home, return to where they belonged. It was daylight that changed things.

Edges were suddenly sharper, the color denser, their shapes stark and painful. It’s why he hated it.

At night, he could blend in, hide inside the blackness, wrap it around like a dull, pulsing blanket, and drown in it. But during the day? Bob had nowhere to hide. He was lit up and exposed.

The New York sky, however, was grey.

Not black as the night, but not bright blue of summer either.

Just... Perfectly in the middle.

And that about summed up how Bob was feeling, as he awaited the rolling storm clouds he could see on the horizon, bringing with them rain and thunder and lightning.

He’d thought about going up to the roof, despite his dislike of heights. Thought about waiting around and getting drenched by the oncoming downpour, and maybe even getting struck by Thor, wherever the Thundergod was. But Yelena would call him dramatic, and tease him about it to no end, so instead, he just sat in his empty room, and stared out the floor-to-ceiling window, as she watched the skies for the familiar shape of their QuinJet, announcing that Y/N was back from her mission.

A mission, she wasn’t even supposed to be on, but had jumped on the second Bob had put his foot in his mouth.

The man dropped his head between his knees, releasing a large sigh.

God, he was an idiot. Maybe it was genetic, or maybe it was a side-effect of the Sentry serum because nobody normal would do such a thing.

It had all gone down a bit more than two weeks prior, which was insane because the day had started out perfectly.

There had been nothing on anyone’s agenda that day. No missions, no briefings, no horrendous galas where Valentina stuffed them inside suits and dresses, telling them to make polite with investors. There was just… peace.

Bob had awoken like he’d done so for the past three months since the ‘flu incident’ – in Y/N’s bed, her curtains half-open to let the morning light filter in and rouse them naturally, while still a couple of mushroom-shaped nightlights illuminated the room in a golden glow.

Classical music played throughout the night, the volume so low, you had to really listen to even hear it, but Bob could distinguish the piano tune of Claude Debussy’s Clair de Lune, as the melody was accompanied by the harmony of Y/N’s soft snores.

He always felt a bit awkward on the mornings he’d awoken tangled up with her, always intending to go to his own room, but the calming atmosphere would take over and lull him to sleep before he was even aware of his own drifting mind.

On more than one occasion, Y/N had told him not to worry about it, that she enjoyed his company and if being in her room was the one way he could sleep through the night without interruptions, then so be it.

“We take care of each other,” she’d shrugged as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Because after nights when his dreams had been too intense for him to handle alone, sometimes so bad he could feel The Void curling somewhere at the edge of his consciousness, he’d try to slip out of her room, not wanting to wake her up, but instead, he would feel Y/N’s hand curling around his, as if there was some invisible thread connecting them, where she could feel him, and the emotions warring in him. With a simple touch, she'd guide Bob back to the light, back to comfort and peace.

There were always at least four pillows on the bed, two for her, two for him, all covered in silk cases, because as Y/N had informed him, it was better for skin and hair, even though he felt lucky enough to have something soft to place his head on.

It was now normal for him to awake to the smell of caramel and chocolate nowadays, as when he’d open his eyes, on more than one occasion, there would be a steaming mug of cocoa on the bedside table closest to him.

The first time it had happened, Bob didn’t really know what to say, as he imagined Y/N, sneaking out of her room to make him the drink (a pump of caramel syrup, two spoons of cocoa powder, half hot water, half-warm milk, topped with mini-marshmallows), and tiptoeing back inside without waking him, just so when he did rise, he would have something sweet and warm waiting already.

When Bob had taken hold of the mug (one of Y/N’s nice ones, one she didn’t allow anyone else to use), a frown pulled on his face as he stared at it. It was her hand on his shoulder that pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Do – do you not like it?” She bit down on her lip, eyeing the mug. “Because I can go and remake it if you-”

“Don’t!” Bob turned his body to the side, twisting it in a way so that she couldn’t take the drink. “I just… Thank you… You didn’t have to do this…”

Y/N snorted, shaking her head and venturing inside the bathroom to start on her morning routine, as she noted Bob taking a sip. “I don’t have to do a lot of things. But I wanted to…”

But even this, even the cocoa that Y/N had made him sometime in the early hours, this time with vanilla syrup as they must’ve run out of caramel, even her rolling back into the bed to catch some more sleep, couldn’t have prepared him for how things would go down.

By the time the two actually got out of bed, most of the tower inhabitants were already halfway through their day.

Bucky seemed to be on his sixth cup of coffee, more of a taste addiction than anything else, Bob had noted, because much like him, his super-soldier serum burned off the caffeine in no time. But he understood the need. If anything, it was a way to survive those congress Zoom-meetings he got stuck in even on his days off.

Alexei and Walker, by the looks of it, had already been in the gym, the Red Guardian most likely testing John’s patience, as they exchanged blows while the older man recounted some tall tale about a mission in Russia during his glory days. Now, they were seated around the high-top counter, Alexei wolfing down an alarming amount of pancakes, while Walker ate on a pair of eggs, always sunny-side up.

Then there was Ava, sprawled all over the middle of the couch, tinkering with some part of her suit while grumbling under her breath when sparks flew, while Yelena sat on the floor by the coffee table, glaring at the screen as a rerun of The Great British Bake-Off played, Bucky’s white cat Alpine having claimed her lap as the best napping spot.

“That is not a croquembouche, you fucking donkey,” the blonde scoffed. “I swear some of these people were dropped on their heads as kids.”

“Getting heated there, Lena,” Y/N chuckled, rounding the couch and plopping down next to Ava who’d opened up a spot, while Bob settled on Y/N's other side, taking one of the many blankets they had and throwing it over their legs.

Immediately Alpine was up and stretching, because although she was Bucky’s, everyone knew, Bob was her real true love, and he couldn’t be happier about the feline having claimed him as her person. The intense purrs reverberated right into his bones, a sense of calm blooming through his veins.

Yelena groaned, throwing her head back and covering her face with her hands, before resting her cheek against Y/N’s knee. “I am so over idiots defiling delicious pastry recipes. I bet they'd fuck up Kraft Mac & Cheese.”

Y/N patted the top of Yelena’s head, fingers lightly scratching the other woman’s scalp. “I’m sure Prue and Paul won’t allow him to get too far.”

“Actually, he almost gets to the finale,” Ava piped up without lifting her eyes from the suit.

Yelena let out an indignant, “What!?”

“What do you mean ‘what’? It’s an old season,” Ghost pointed at the screen.

“I’m more offended anyone would give that monstrosity a second chance. You know, if I was a judge, I’d have a firing squad with me.” Yelena crossed her arms as yet another contestant messed up their choux pastry and had to start all over.

“No offence, but I think there’s a reason you’re not,” Bob muttered over the rim of his cocoa, the sweet drink sliding down his throat and warming him from the inside.

“Hey, I’m just saying that maybe, higher stakes would make all these people better and not mess up as much. Like – mess up a dough, get a cap in the knee.”

“But messing up is half the fun of it all!” Ava said, clearly more invested in their conversation now, than the half-assembled suit in her lap, Alpine sneaking a paw over Y/N’s lap to swat at an exposed wire. “But if you wanna sic a firing squad on someone, I volunteer Walker. That man barely salts his eggs, and that is a federal offence.”

“I heard that!” John hollered from the adjacent kitchen.

“You were meant to!” Ava rolled her eyes as she whispered to the people on the couch. “Honestly, we should’ve left him in the incinerator.”

“I have super-hearing, so I heard that too!”

“You know what? Good!” Ava jumped up from her seat. “Then maybe you could do us all a favor and fuck off back there!”

“Go screw yourself, Ava!” John’s fork clattered against his plate.

But Bob wasn’t listening anymore, as their bickering moved on in the same fashion because, in the end, he knew there was no maliciousness to their words.

They fought and argued, but there was care underneath it all. It was like having a bunch of brothers and sisters, who only you could bully, but if someone else tried to, you best be sure, your head would be ripped off in a matter of a second.

Well, except for one person he didn’t view as a sister… one that made his heart beat out of rhythm. He took a chance to glance at Y/N out of the corner of his eye. She was conversing with Yelena, both consciously making the decision to engage in English, so Bob didn’t feel left out of the conversation. She still had slightly mussed hair, a sleepy look in her eyes, and she was picking at the skin around her thumb, a nervous habit she couldn’t get rid of.

Bob itched to slip his hand in hers. To stop her from harming the finger, he told himself. No other reason.

He could do it. He knew Y/N wouldn’t mind. She never did. But the parts that made him up, warred with one another.

Void always whispered how pathetic he was, unable to act on his feelings, so why would she ever accept him in a romantic sense.

Sentry would no doubt say how there was no universe where Y/N didn’t feel the same. He was a god with an ego bigger than the suns he possessed in his body.

But Bob… the part of him he wished people loved and cared for most… Bob was just… afraid.

Because no matter what happened, if he told her how he felt, things would inevitably change. And that was the most terrifying thing of it all. Because what if it changed and everything became bad? What if Y/N didn’t want him around anymore? Not just in her room, but in general?

No.

Bob had worked too hard on himself, on letting people in, on caring for them and allowing them to care for him. He wasn’t about to ruin the family he’d gained, no matter if a fourth voice continuously whispered somewhere in the back of his mind. A little voice called ‘hope’, asking him “But what if it only gets better? What if she does love you the same?”

What if? What if… what if…

And yet, he couldn’t answer those questions, if he didn’t ask first.

He would get there, he promised himself. One day, he would be able to gather all the courage he had and would tell Y/N what he felt. He just… he wasn’t ready yet.

So Bob sat there, drinking in those moments of domesticity, while he sipped on his cocoa, relishing in the feeling of simply being allowed to exist and being loved for the simple fact that he did.

The moment, however, was interrupted by the intercom system announcing there was a delivery for one Y/N Y/L/N.

“Thank you!” She called out, standing up from the couch and stretching. “Send them up to the 126th floor, please. We’ll take it from here.”

Yelena raised a brow, as she peered up at the woman. “What did you buy?”

“Nothing,” Y/N shrugged, throwing her a coy smile. “Just something to spruce up my room with. And uh, maybe something that emptied Valentina’s wallet a bit.”

Bob frowned, looking down at the cat in his lap, Alpine’s fluffy belly up as his fingers ran through the fur. “Valentina gave you her card?”

“No,” Y/N snorted, nudging Yelena’s shoulder with her leg. “But I’m sure she won’t mind. After all, we do own her.”

“Oh,” he could feel his heart fall as the hope receded.

Yelena tilted her head towards him. “Oh? What do you mean ‘oh’? What’s up?”

“Nothing, no…” Bob shook his head. “I just thought if she was, you know, allowing us to send in some requests for our rooms, I had uh, a couple of things I wanted, but it’s fine…”

Both Widows shared a glance as a blush of embarrassment rushed through his body, lighting up his cheeks tomato red.

“Bobik,” Yelena rose to sit on her knees, resting an elbow on the couch next to him, eyes incredibly soft. “What is it that you’d like?”

He waved her off, Alpine letting out a disgruntled meow as he stopped the petting. “It’s nothing.”

The blonde’s brows drew together as she scooted closer, while Y/N crossed her arms over her chest. “Do not do that. Do not minimize your wants or needs. Now, tell us what we need to beat up Frankenstein’s Bride over.”

“No, really, it’s nothing.” Bob let out a nervous chuckle, pulling at his sleeve. “I mean, my therapist just suggested that uh, a weighted blanket might help me fall asleep better, and stuff… but it’s fine, really. It’s no big deal.”

Y/N let out an incredulous scoff. “And Valentina didn’t get you one? That’s like nothing for her!”

“I – I mean, she just said it’d be an unnecessary expense… that I already have a duvet and… yeah...”

“Unnecessary expense my ass,” she grumbled, throwing a look at Yelena, the two communicating once again without the need for words.

Bob wondered if he would ever have that kind of a connection, where a whole conversation could pass with just a glance. He wondered if it was something you had to forge through fire like the two women had gone through, or if it could also be something that could grow softly, like a flower emerging from nurtured soil… he wondered if he could have it with Y/N one day, if she’d allow such a bond to form between them…

But before anyone could say anything, the elevator dinged, and as the doors opened, Alexei gasped as if a life-sized Wheaties box with his face stamped over it, had stepped out into the room.

“What is that?” the man guaffed in awe as five guys dragged boxes into the common area, one the size of a building, in Bob’s humble opinion.

“That,” Y/N smirked, moving over to admire her purchase, “is my new bed.”

“That is not a bed, that is a monstrosity,” Yelena breathed out, walking over to the boxes like a woman possessed. “I want one!”

“I can send you the link if you’d like. It’s the Alaskan King size, by the way.”

“And how much did this thing set Valentina back?” Ava ran a hand over the cardboard where the mattress lay as Y/N shrugged her shoulders, once more picking at her thumb.

“For her, it was basically a dime.”

Walker raised a brow, sipping on his coffee. “And what is basically a dime in normal-people money?”

“Just like… eight thousand dollars or something.”

“Eight thousand!?” Bob, Alexei and Yelena all let out together, while Ava scoffed, Walker almost choked on his drink and Bucky just let out a heavy and resigned sigh, no doubt thinking of how Valentina would be on his ass about this, as their unofficial-official team leader.

“Oh, please!” Y/N rolled her eyes, thanking the delivery men before they left. “Like that will hurt her. I’d like to see her try and do something about it. Her only leverage against us is money, so she has to make nice with us, not the other way around. Besides,” she threw her gaze towards Bob. “Avengers need a good night’s sleep to avenge stuff. Good sleep means good mental health, means good missions. Now, if you will excuse me, I have some very large Legos to put together.”

It took Y/N a bit of bribery and good old-fashioned threatening, but soon enough she’d coerced Bucky into helping her, while pulling Walker quite literally by his ear, Alexei following on his own full of enthusiasm to see the bed be put together, leaving Bob and Yelena on their twosome, as Ava decided she was gonna go for a coffee and, “put together a list for Valentina”, as Y/N had encouraged them all to do.

And sure, there were other things he wanted for himself, for his room to make it homier, but Bob couldn’t push himself to do anything. He could only sit there, hand mindlessly moving across Alpine’s belly as Prue and Paul crowned Star-Baker of the week, while something in his stomach curdled.

He knew he shouldn’t be feeling this way because it literally had nothing to do with him, but as an over-thinker, it was a talent he possessed – attaching meaning to things they didn’t have.

And Y/N’s big new bed just screamed to him, she wanted space.

It was Yelena nudging his shoulder that brought him back to the present. “You are glaring at the screen like you want it to melt.”

Bob wanted to say it was nothing, but the words came spilling out without a way for him to stop. “She’s tired of me, isn’t she?”

Slowly he raised his eyes to look at the woman, her mouth open a little in confusion. “Who is tired of you?”

“Y/N,” he sighed. “She thinks I’ve invaded her space, doesn’t she?”

“Hey, whoa, what is making you say all this stuff?”

A pained smile bloomed on his lips, as he scratched Alpine under her chin. “Yelena, that bed spans a whole continent... she just doesn't know how to tell me she wants me gone... She's just too kind to be that cruel...”

But even as he was speaking, Yelena was just shaking her head. “Don’t do that. Don’t start imagining things that aren’t true. I promise you, I swear it on Nat’s grave, Y/N isn’t tired of you. But please, for my sanity’s sake, go talk to her.”

“Yelena,” Bob started but was interrupted by a pointed finger at his face.

“No!” she took Alpine from his lap, the cat letting out an offended meow as she took him by the shoulders. “Go and talk to her and stop inventing dramatic scenarios.”

By the look on her face, Bob was almost a hundred percent sure, Yelena was ready to grab him by the ear like Y/N had done to Walker and drag her to the woman’s room, so he was on his feet, quick to get a move on.

But as he entered the private elevator that would take people to their rooms, his nerves couldn’t help but grow.

Because that bed, despite no doubt being comfortable, and something Y/N deserved, his brain had taken it as quite the literal way of her putting space between them.

As Bob moved along the hallway, he could hear gentle humming interrupted by swearing in Russian and groans of frustration. When he knocked against the doorframe, despite the door being open, he saw Y/N sprawled out on her stomach, struggling against a fitted sheet, and it looked like the sheet was winning.

“I did not think this through,” she muttered through clenched teeth, hands on her hips and glaring at the piece of cloth like it had stolen something from her.

“Do – do you need any help?” Bob let out a nervous laugh. “I can hold one end as you put the other on.”

The smile she threw him was almost blinding. It was like he was looking directly into the sun, so he had to avert his gaze. “You’d be a literal lifesaver if you did.”

Without raising his eyes, Bob moved to hold one edge down, as Y/N slipped the light grey sheet over, tucking in his own side until all four corners had been conquered.

She fist-bumped the air, throwing their pillows onto the bed before hopping onto the mattress. It was so high, she could even dangle her feet while sitting on it. His blue eyes trailed over her form, as she bounced, testing the springs before plopping onto her back, hands outstretched in both directions.

The bed spanned almost literally the whole wall, running from one corner to the other, with barely enough space for the two bedside tables to be pushed against either side.

Can you not pick up on a hint? Void’s voice echoed from some deep recess of his mind. She doesn’t want you with her.

And it was true. If he wanted to sleep next to her, side by side, he’d have to roll over at least twice now.

But he didn’t have time to listen to his self-deprecating thoughts as Y/N called out to him, probably having noticed his vacant stare. “You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded. “It’s just a – a very big bed.”

“I know!” Y/N grinned. “I think we’re gonna have the best sleep ever on this thing!”

“We?” The word was out before he could think better of it.

Y/N raised her brow. “Yeah… unless you don’t want to stay the night. Which is cool. You obviously have your own room and…”

Bob looked over at the woman, as her sentence trailed off. But where he usually was the one who couldn’t handle a direct look, she had to break eye contact this time. Not only that, she was once more picking along the skin of her thumb.

His heart pounded at the fact she was nervous around him. Because that carried certain implications, and there was no way he could curb the hope that rose in him.

He cleared his throat, putting his hands in the pockets of his sweats, rolling back and forth on his heels. “I just… when I saw how big the bed was, I just thought you might be feeling like I’m crowding you. Like I’ve been taking up too much of your personal space.”

Y/N glanced up at him, brows pulling together in a furrow. “But you are taking up space. As you should.”

“Yeah, but it’s your room.”

However, one hard look around would immediately tell anyone who entered, that two people lived there, and that was where Bob's issues lay. Bob felt like an invader. No matter the fact that he’d been invited, no matter the fact, that Y/N always encouraged him to be around her if he so wished, he felt like a cat-burglar instead of a guest.

Bob’s spare sweaters were strewn about, over her settees and desk chair, sweats mixing in with Y/N’s own laundry. A pair of his slippers were neatly tucked under the new bed-frame on the side he usually slept on. Hell, he even had his deodorant and toothbrush in her bathroom, sitting in the same cup as her own. That and so many other bits and pieces of him were scattered around the place, which made it no longer solely hers.

Bob never knocked anymore to ask if he could come inside. Mainly because he was already there. Sometimes, when Y/N was out on a mission, he would be in her room, as if his gravitational pull had shifted from the core of the earth to the woman who lived across the hall, body and mind craving to be surrounded by anything that was she.

And Bob felt guilty about it, which Y/N could probably read from his body language, the way he hung his head, hands jittery in his pockets and lip between his teeth.

“I didn’t order the bed because I feel uncomfortable with you next to me,” her voice was impossibly soft. “I ordered it so we both could have a bit more room, but still sleep next to one another. I uh…” Y/N swallowed hard, moving into a sitting position while Bob, taking a deep breath, sat down next to her, their knees touching like they usually did. Even his feet dangled above the floor. “Look. I’ve never really had a bed of my own. So, when this whole New Avengers shtick became a solid thing, I swore to myself I’d get the most ridiculous princess bed, I could find. And I just thought, you know, I know we both have issues with sleep and stuff… why not get the biggest one I could find? Does that make sense?”

Bob mulled over her words.

It did make sense. He couldn’t deny how easily Y/N’s presence banished The Void to somewhere he couldn’t bother them. And he also understood wanting to be surrounded by nothing but soft and warm things. He himself had an alarming collection of blankets, courtesy of everyone in the tower gifting him at least one.

Her lips pulled up in a smile as he nodded, worried features softening and relaxing, as she added, “And we can both be starfishes and not hit one another in the face as well.”

“It was one time!” Bob let out a genuine laugh, as Y/N dropped back onto the bed, and so did he, mimicking the position. He turned his head towards her. “I stand corrected. This is amazing.”

“You’re pretty amazing,” Y/N spoke so quietly, he would have missed it unless he’d already been looking at her and completely attuned to her voice.

It took a second for him to register what she’d said, what she’d meant, but once it did, immediately heat was crawling all over him, his head snapping to look up at the ceiling. “I – I mean, I’m just…”

“Amazing,” she reiterated, only louder this time. “And kind, and you… you’re just everything.” Then, Y/N took in a deep breath, as if preparing for something big, like diving right under an oncoming tidal wave. “I like you, Bob.”

“You uh,” he swallowed the lump lodged in his throat, “You like like me? Or like me like a friend? You know, which we are…”

“Like like you,” and then after a moment she whispered, “I think I might even be falling in love with you.”

Slowly he turned his head to the side, wide blue eyes meeting her hopeful Y/E/C ones. He could see how much courage it had taken her to tell him this. The way her finger was rubbed almost raw at the side, the way her chest was close to heaving, breaths stuttering half-way between her throat and lungs.

But Bob didn’t think his heart was working right. Which meant that blood wasn’t circulating around his body. Which meant he had to be brain-dead, as it was the only reasonable explanation for what happened next, because instead of showering her in the love he felt, instead of pulling her by the neck to mold their lips together, he stuttered out, “Oh… I uh… I… don’t…”

Y/N’s eyes widened, and as the silence stretched on after what he’d managed to expel from his mouth, she sat up, gaze everywhere but on him. “That’s uh, that’s fine.” She swallowed hard, nodding as she did so while blinking rapidly. “I’ll just… I’m just gonna go… sorry…”

And then she was gone.

Out of her own room faster than lightning could strike.

Which, honestly, Bob hoped would, because as his mind caught up to what his mouth had done, that he’d basically told the woman he was head-over-heels for, that he didn’t reciprocate her feelings, felt worthy of Thor’s wrath.

He had to find her.

He had to explain to Y/N that he’d meant to say he didn’t know what to say. That it was only in his dreams he ever heard those words from her.

He had to beg and crawl for her forgiveness and hope that if he did confess his true feelings, she would find it in her heart to give him a chance.

Bob stumbled and almost crashed to the ground, as his foot caught against the bed-frame when he jumped off, panic settling in his body. The tower was huge, and though he was really the one who spent the most time in it, finding all the nooks and crannies one could hide in, Y/N had a handicap. She could already be somewhere out in New York. Then he would never be able to find her.

But he had to start somewhere, so slowly, he combed through the place floor by floor, asking anyone that passed him if they’d seen the woman, only to receive small “no, sorry” or shakes of heads. He even took a peek in the vents at one point, because he thought he heard a sound. Yet instead of Y/N, he found some old chip packets, dating back to 2012, which in Bob’s humble opinion, couldn’t be sanitary and Valentina should really get a cleaning crew up there.

By the time he got down to the first level and asked the receptionists if they’d seen Y/N, two hours had passed. Once again, he was met by murmured apologies and pitying gazes.

Fuck, Bob had really royally screwed everything up.

With his shoulders hunched, he entered the elevator, and with one last ray of hope still shining in his chest, rode all the way up to the roof, but when nothing but the wind and sun greeted him, he had to admit his defeat.

The elevator dinged, announcing his arrival at the common area, Yelena, Alexei and Bucky, all sitting around the kitchen table enjoying their lunch while Ava kept phasing in and out, testing the modifications of her suit.

He wanted to scurry past them over to the private elevator, drawing as little attention as possible, but Yelena’s low, “You. Come here. Now,” made Bob tuck his tail between his legs and venture over to the trio, well, quartet as Alpine sat on the counter too.

In times like these, Bob hated having people who cared so deeply about him, mostly because they wouldn’t allow him to wallow in his misery, close himself off to the world, and drown in the rising darkness.

“What happened?” Yelena asked, chewing on a piece of what looked like Chow Mein.

“Nothing,” he mumbled, only looking at Alpine, but even she seemed to be judging him.

“Sure,” Yelena dragged out the word, sarcasm dripping through the one syllable. “Then please do tell, why did I hear Y/N begging to go on a last-minute mission with Walker?”

Bob’s throat threatened to close up. “She – she went on a mission? To where?"

“Beirut,” Bucky supplied, as he watched his fellow teammate's brows shoot to his hairline.

“Beirut!? Wh – wha – what’s she doing there? Why is she there?”

The former Winter Soldier sighed, pushing away at Alpine who was pawing at some of his stir-fried rice. “I dunno. You tell us, because Walker got called out on a reconnaissance mission, and when Y/N heard, she practically sprinted to me, to ask if she could be assigned. Which is weird, because she hates dealing with John on her own, so the fact that she went with him voluntarily makes me really worried.”

“Well, how – how long will she be away?”

“A week or two, if things go well. Though given the fact it’s them, I wouldn’t place my bets on it.”

“A week!?” the word came out way louder and squeakier than he intended it to.

“Bob,” Yelena’s tone was low and steady, as she placed a hand on his elbow. “What happened? Did you two, by any chance, have a certain… conversation?”

Of course, Yelena knew. The women were like peas in a pod, sharing everything, and honestly, Bob couldn’t fault them or mind it. Even if he wanted to keep the humiliating aspect of being the reason Y/N might have needed to seek comfort in her sister’s embrace because of his own idiocy.

“M-maybe? It was more so that Y/N talked and I…”

She waved her hand in a rolling motion for him to continue. “And you?”

Bob could hear the clinking of the dishes, despite the thundering in his chest. “And I fucked it up.”

The second he said so, he collapsed onto one of the stools, burying his head in his palms. Instantly, everyone stopped eating, turning all their attention onto him. Even Alpine swatted at his head with her paw, making him look up at the white feline. Two green eyes bore into his.

“Bobik, tell us everything,” Alexei said, as he clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Spare no detail. We are team. We are family. We will help.”

Bob sighed. “Yeah, I don’t think you can help with this one.”

“Sure, we can!” Ava phased fully into the room, putting her hands on her hips as she scoffed. “Come on! It’s not like she professed her love to you, and you shot her down! Everything but that might be fixable.”

God, he wanted to die.

The incinerator sounded nice right about now. Maybe Valentina still wanted to get rid of them, and he could trigger some hidden switch. Or maybe the tower could just suddenly collapse. He would give anything for an alien invasion, as he watched the realization hit in everyone’s faces that that had been exactly what had happened.

A bunch of groans from all around made Bob slink down in his seat even more, his chin resting against the granite.

“But you love her!” Alexei boomed, standing up from his chair. “Why would you say not so?”

“I know!” Bob whined. “I do! I just… I didn’t expect her to say she loved me too, and I… clammed up. I just…” He sighed, pressing his forehead to the counter, soaking up the cool sensation. “I never imagined there might be a real possibility she did feel the same. So when Y/N just blurted it out… I froze.”

“Oh, Bobik…” Yelena dropped her own face in her hands, mimicking his previous position. She took in a deep breath before looking at him. “You know what, okay. Okay… this is not that bad. We just need a game plan, yes?”

“A game plan? For what?” he scoffed, lightly hitting his head against the surface. “Y/N is never gonna talk to me ever again. And honestly, I don’t blame her.”

“No!” Yelena pointed at him with an accusatory finger, Bob rolling his eyes at this. “No. Listen here, we have a whole week we can plan. Because I just cannot go through any more of you two pining for one another like some lovesick puppies. Every day it is ‘oh, Bob is just so sweet and handsome’ from Y/N and then every day it is ‘oh, she is like the sun, she makes life worth living’ from you,” Yelena mocked them, and Bob felt like he had to be fire-engine red at this point. “And I want an actual puppy, alright? So, we will think of a way you can apologize, and confess your feelings, alright?”

“Yes!” Alexei pumped the air. “That is the spirit, Lena. We will play matchmaker, and we will help young love blossom!”

There wasn’t much Bob could argue against. For one, nobody would listen to his protests, and two, literally all of them were into the idea of getting him with Y/N. Even Bucky, who usually just sighed and grunted at their antics, pitched in on certain plans for how they could retrieve Bob’s dignity from where it lay six feet under, and give him a chance at love.

Alexei’s plan was the first to get shot down, as he, obviously, suggested something grand.

“We cut a thousand hearts and cover her room with them!” He boomed. “Then you dress up smart. A tux, alright? And you serenade her! Women love being serenaded to.”

But that wasn’t Bob. He wasn’t a grandiose kind of a guy, and neither did he think Y/N was a grandiose display kind of a woman. She’d once winced when a guy had sent in a request for a song to a radio station as an apology for an argument he’d had with his partner. So, holding up a boombox above his head with a love song blaring, was a sure-fire way in alienating Y/N even further.

Bucky and Yelena suggested that he should put on a romantic evening for them both – make some dinner, preferably Italian or French, as most touted them as the cuisines of love, cover the room with flowers, scattering the petals all around, and then ask her for a dance, professing his love as they slowly swayed to some music. And although it sounded like a solid plan, something still didn’t seem right for Bob.

He didn’t doubt, Y/N would probably appreciate the gesture, but still. It wasn’t them.

As everyone conversed around him, Bob tried to think back to certain moments he’d shared with Y/N, when one specific jumped out at him.

It had been the day after she’d battled and won her flu. They were in her room, and she had put on the 2005 Keira Knightley version of Pride and Prejudice.

He hadn’t paid much attention to the movie, as Bob wasn’t too big of a historical romance fan, but as Mr Darcy confessed his feelings for Elizabeth, he’d turned to look at Y/N, and his breath had caught in his chest.

Because there she was, silently, almost imperceptibly mouthing the words under her breath.

“You have bewitched me, body and soul,” her lips moved without noise.

And she had.

Bob didn’t know what sort of spell Y/N had cast on him, but it left him in a daze, and one he never wanted to wake up from.

Ultimately, it was Ava’s idea he took to heart, combining it with his own plan, as she suggested something meaningful, but at the same time, something that would leave no doubt in Y/N’s mind as to what he was trying to say, like annotating a favorite book of hers.

The next day, Bob ventured out of the tower and into a nearby bookstore. It took him a little time to find the classics section, but with the help of the elderly shop assistant, she dug out a gorgeous version of Pride and Prejudice, all with gilded edges and handwritten letters stuck in between.

Throughout the night, he combed through the book, acquainting himself with the characters and their emotions, and with Y/N’s favorite love story, and when he came upon a little slip where the character letters were placed, he removed them, so he could replace them with his own.

He wrote long into the morning, pages upon pages of words, sentences he’d struck out, as he didn’t think they properly conveyed his emotions until he was satisfied and could take a clean piece of paper to put his heart down neatly in ink. He even attempted to make the first letter of each paragraph the loopy kind they did in ancient times but had to give up halfway when they became almost illegible.

Bob had never been good with words, at least not spoken ones, but on paper, they flowed like a river – easy and natural. And as he dotted the last one, he signed it with his name, adding a small ‘hopefully yours’ on the end of it.

Gently, as if it was made of gold, he folded the piece of paper and tucked it in the final pocket.

He’d not only poured his heart out but his entire soul.

He told Y/N of his hopes and fears. He told how he wished he could be her person, not only when she was happy, but when the darkness rolled in, threatening to cover the world. Like she was to him. And in the end, he asked if he could have just one chance to take her out on a proper date.

Bob hadn’t even realized a full day had passed and night had once more fallen until Yelena brought him some dinner. She gave a curious glance at the book. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” he smiled, and meant it, thanking her for the food. “I think it will be.”

That night he decided he would sleep in Y/N’s room, despite the new bedsheets not having her scent on them yet, it still felt like home.

But then another day passed.

And another.

And one more.

And soon enough more than a fortnight had gone by without any contact from either Walker or Y/N.

“Any longer and I’m going on a search-and-rescue myself,” Ava had grumbled into her coffee on the morning of day fifteen, as Alpine claimed her lap this time. “And I don’t give a shit that Valentina said they’re at a safe house. That woman’s a pathological liar.”

Yelena hummed in agreement, as none of them really trusted when Valentina had informed the team of Y/N’s and Walker’s whereabouts, and how they were just waiting for an extraction team after the jet blew up.

Bob tried to cling to those words, even though they could be a bald-faced lie. He had to. Otherwise, his mind became overcome with the worst possible thoughts, and he was an anxious mess as it was.

His days consisted of pulling at the fraying edges of his clothing, walking aimlessly all over the tower only to find himself backtracking before Y/N’s room. To stand in front of the bed where everything went wrong.

He no longer slept in it, not after the first week had passed and he awoke drenched in a cold sweat, the images of Y/N, her body all bent wrong, Y/E/C eyes unseeingly staring at him, as blood trickled out of her mouth, while she asked him, “why didn’t you tell me you loved me before I died?”

Bob simply couldn’t handle all that space, not on his own, so now every night he was back in his own room, which was more a storage space than anything. It even smelled of long-dried paint, unlike the gentle notes of bergamot and chocolate that permeated Y/N’s room.

A pathetic-looking blanket was thrown over his bed, skin-thin sheets, a single flat pillow atop it. There were only two shirts and two pairs of boxers in the closet with a single pair of pants. Because everything else was in the room he couldn’t step foot into, without tears welling up in his eyes.

But even if Y/N allowed him inside, once she got home (not if; never if), after what Bob'd done, he would most likely have to move back into his own place, anyhow. It didn’t matter how many pathetic letters he wrote, how many love confessions he poured from his fingertips, there was no way she’d ever let him stay.

And as the hours ticked by, Bob couldn’t help but feel like he was drowning in the darkness.

He deserved it, Bob lamented. After all, why would someone like Y/N, someone so capable and truly good, choose him – a broken and battered man, who couldn’t even open his mouth properly to tell her what he felt?

It was on day eighteen, a drab and dreary one, when Yelena found him leaning against the window of his room, as she rushed to him, almost breathless to tell that they were back.

Once again, Bob stalled.

Would Y/N even want to see him?

Why would she?

But the woman didn’t allow him to stay back, as she grabbed his elbow, pretty much dragging him to the elevator, pressing the 111th floor number.

Bob’s heart dropped as he noted the number.

The number for the medical floor.

“W-what happened? Who’s hurt?” his voice wobbled.

“Y/N,” Yelena confirmed his worst fears with one single name. “They’ve taken her to surgery now, but I thought we should be there when she gets out.”

He could only nod, as his hands started to shake.

What was the damage? If surgery was needed, no doubt it had to be something bad.

Y/N had to pull through, Bob chanted in his mind. She just had to. There was no other option. Because he didn’t know what he’d do, if the horrible vision he’d seen that night, came true.

As the two stepped out of the elevator, they were greeted by the rest of the team, all huddled together, Walker looking ragged as hell, while he recounted what’d happened.

“Wait, so you two were really at the safe house?” Ava’s brows shot up.

“Yeah,” John dragged a hand down his dirty face. “Comms got cut at some point when the jet blew, so we had to wait until Valentina sent an extraction team. Honestly, we’re lucky sepsis didn’t set in, but fuck,” he turned to look at Yelena, “for a Black Widow, Y/N sure is squeamish.”

“She is not squeamish!” Yelena looked affronted on the behalf of her sister. “How dare you!”

“I dunno,” Walker shrugged, “but her throwing that fit after seeing her broken leg, seemed pretty squeamish to me.”

Yelena clapped and started to roll up her sleeves. “Okay. How about we give you an open break and see how you do with a bone looking back at you? Hmm? I say, let’s test your stomach out, and then we can talk!”

“Alright enough!” Bucky sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, as Alexei slowly lowered his phone from where he’d turned the camera on, a pout on the older man’s lips. “Nobody is breaking John’s legs. Karma will get him soon enough. Now, Y/N is gonna be out soon, and she’ll probably be pretty out of it, so we should set things up so that someone is always with her, okay?”

A bunch of mumbled ‘yes’s could be heard all around, as Bucky told Walker to go and clean up, and get some rest, while Bob immediately asked if he could be one of the first people in the room once Y/N was in recovery.

“Of course,” Yelena gave him a nudge on the shoulder. “I’ll stay with you.”

�� But Bob didn’t have a plan on leaving Y/N at all.

Not as her bed was wheeled inside the recovery room, not as evening turned to night, not as the others checked in, asking if they wanted to switch out or go grab a bite. Bob wasn’t going. Not until Y/N opened her eyes and erased the image of her dead doppelgänger from his mind.

It was sometime during the period when the moon had started to make its descent, when Bob noticed a soft humming in the room, making him look over to where Yelena sat on the opposite side of the bed, softly singing under her breath.

She’d taken her post on Y/N’s right, slipping her hand inside hers, while Bob had claimed her left.

“Yelena?” he finally spoke up after hours of silence, afraid it’d disrupt her humming, but when she didn’t, only tilted her head in question, Bob continued on. “What uh, what’s it you’re singing?”

“It’s a Russian lullaby. Melina, my mother, she used to put me to bed with it, after I had nightmares. Just thought it might… I don’t even know what I thought. It’s not like she sang it to Y/N, but I hoped it would maybe wake her up quicker?”

“It’s pretty,” Bob murmured, looking over at Y/N’s sleeping face.

The doctors had informed them they had to use a heightened dose of anaesthesia to knock her out, so she might be asleep for a while longer as her body burned through the medication. “My mom used to sing to me too… to help me calm down.”

“Hm?” she acknowledged his words. “What did she sing?”

“Just some song from uh, from her own childhood, I think,” Bob nodded to himself, a finger rubbing along the sheet Y/N lay upon, not daring to touch where her hand rested.

“Well, you are more than welcome to sing it, if you’d like. I’m sure Y/N would appreciate it.”

Instantly, Bob flushed, shaking his head at the offer. “No, I just… I dunno… I’m not much of a singer. I uh… I was just wondering if there was something maybe from Y/N’s childhood, you know? Like maybe a story we could tell her or… or something… like that song for you… just… never mind…”

For a moment, the only sound in the room was Y/N’s rhythmic breathing, accompanied by the beeping of the monitors she was hooked to, while Yelena gazed at her, Bob’s eyes trailing over her unconscious form and settling on the injured limb.

Ava had already managed to autograph the cast, while Alexei had drawn an exaggeratedly muscled version of the woman, with Bucky lettering out a simple ‘get well soon’ and Walker just penning a smiley face.

“Bob, do you know what happens to frogs in winter?”

Now that wasn’t something he expected Yelena to ask him, snapping him out of the daze. “I uh,” he stammered for an answer, “I mean kinda? I guess? They uh, they go into hibernation, right?”

She hummed in confirmation. “When winter comes, the frogs that live by the water, find a lake or a pond or something of the sort. And then they float down to the very bottom of it. And they stay there. Even as the water freezes over, right up until spring comes to unthaw them.” Her gaze was unnervingly intense as she looked at him. “Their bodies basically freeze just like the water does, but they don’t die. They just… stay at that bottom.”

Bob swallowed, shifting in his seat. “What does that have to do with anything?”

He didn’t know why he asked, because he knew, he wouldn’t like the answer. Yelena sighed, looking over at Y/N, and brushed a finger down her cheek.

“No matter what happened to me and Nat, I always thought us lucky. We had Alexei, Melina. Even if it was just for a little bit, for just a few years, we were a real family… but Y/N… she didn’t have that.”

He was aware she had been trained separately, but only at this moment, did he find out just how different their upbringings were. As the Widow continued on, Bob couldn’t avert his eyes from the woman in question. “Since day one, Y/N was under Red Room’s control. She wasn’t taken like most of us were. No… Mistress Vera, her handler, was in charge from the very start, because Y/N was never a normal Black Widow. She was hers and Dreykov’s pet project.”

“What do you mean?” Bile rose in his throat, as Yelena looked over at him.

“When we first met, I was twelve. Y/N… she was sixteen.”

“Wh – what? But she’s younger than you.” The two had even had numerous arguments about how Yelena played the older-sister card way too much, just to get her way, despite her being barely three weeks older.

“In all the ways it matters she is,” Yelena nodded, holding onto Y/N’s hand a bit tighter. “But… when she was born, barely out of her mother’s womb, Dreykov and Vera injected her with some sort of a version of a super soldier serum. Some aspects of it took, some didn’t. She can still get sick but will recover quicker than the rest of us. She’s not as strong as Bucky, or Dad, or Walker, but she can… endure.”

Tears threatened to fall down Yelena’s cheeks, as her hazel eyes glistened in the dark. Bob, however, was already crying, as his mind rushed ahead and even without further explanation, understood what was to come.

“And if they wanted to have use of Y/N for longer, they had to find a way to keep her in a certain stasis.”

When Yelena did start crying, she didn’t shy away from the tears, the drops glinting in the low lights of the room. “When we met again, I didn’t understand how it was possible she looked the way she had years ago. And then I started to think – Y/N had always been touted as the best of the best. Red Room’s Diamond. And yet, I barely saw her, barely heard about her missions. Because when they didn’t have use for her, they put her in a cryo chamber to sleep.”

Yelena wiped at her cheeks. “By the time Nat got her out, she was my age when she was supposed to be hers. They were born the same year, you know.” She took in a deep breath, steeling herself for a moment. “When we broke Alexei out of the prison, he immediately recognized her, and the idiot called said “legushka nasha! Frozen, but back to life again! Always made us proud!” Safe to say, he got three of his teeth knocked out, and didn’t try to call her it again.”

As if feeling she was being talked about, Y/N shifted in her bed, like the words had registered somewhere in her sleep-addled mind, but despite both Bob and Yelena holding their breaths, hoping she’d awake, she just got more comfortable and resumed her snoring.

The blonde sighed, running her thumb over the top of Y/N’s hand. “When we decided to take the Red Room down, Nat and I… we thought she was gone. Our last contact with her was before everything exploded and she was on her way to find Mistress Vera… who had a certain... reputation. We all knew it was basically a suicide mission.”

“But then we were on the ground, and Y/N just crawled out from underneath all the rubble, bruised and bloody, with a dislocated arm, and holding on to a fucking toad. I still have no idea where she found that little amphibian, but she’d gotten to one of her old cryo chambers and used it to ride out the crash. Those things were made to withstand an earthquake.” A wince-like smile split her lips. “And they had to be. They held precious cargo, after all.” She practically spat the last two words.

“That was the moment I told myself I would protect her. Nat had to go on and join Steve, so I decided I’d be that big sister, like Tasha was to me. Whatever Y/N wanted, I would do everything I could to make sure she got it.”

“And she just wanted softness,” Yelena tilted her head, looking over at him. “So, Bob, please be that softness to her. She’s never had a real bed. She’s never had a room for herself. She… Y/N never really had anything kind… I remember when we got to Melina’s safehouse, Y/N dug out this old fairy tale book and fell in love with this one story – The Princess and the Pea. It’s this tale where a girl seeks refuge from a storm in a castle, and the people inside think she’s a princess. So, to figure it out, they get her a room with a dozen mattresses on the bed, but leave a pea under the very bottom one. When she awakes the next day, she says she had the worst night’s sleep and that is how they figure out she is a princess after all – because only a princess would feel the pea even so far below her.”

Yelena sniffled, wiping below her nose with the sleeve of her sweater. “So, Bob that bed isn’t about you. That bed is her twelve mattresses, that bed is her soft and safe place to land. Because she deserves that and more.” Slowly, her eyes shifted to Y/N, as he listened without even taking a breath, terrified she’d stop talking if he did. “Please don’t break her heart. Because I don’t think I could stand seeing her sad. Not after everything.”

Bob swallowed hard, mainly because it felt like Yelena had taken his heart in her hand, and squeezed it, bringing it all the way up to his throat.

His eyes burned and he was sure they were rimmed red, from what the Widow had told him about Y/N’s life. He could feel the fierce protectiveness emanate around them, he understood she would go to the ends of the earth if it meant happiness would be found there. So, he nodded, promising he would try, even though he couldn’t say it out loud, because if he did, his voice would absolutely break, and he felt like his soul would too. He wanted to be everything Y/N deserved and more, and if the only thing he had to do was try, he would with every fiber of his being.

“Maybe uh…” he cleared his throat. “Maybe I could read to her? That fairy tale you said she liked?”

Bob could see the worry and fear dissipate in Yelena’s eyes as she nodded, giving him a soft smile. “Yeah. I think Y/N would love that. Let me uh, let me go find the book. I think Alexei might have it.”

With a kiss on Y/N’s cheek, she stood up, cracking her spine and exiting the room, but not before whispering something that sounded suspiciously like “You’re in good hands with him, Legushka.”

And so, Bob remained at his post; the dragon guarding the princess; the knight keeping watch. At some point after Yelena came back, a battered and bruised copy of a fairy tale collection, the sun had risen and even Alpine had found her way inside, making her bed by Y/N’s broken leg.

But as much as Bob wanted to remain vigil, even his body had to rest. Due to all the accumulated anxiety and stress, he only managed to get through The Princess and the Pea and Andersen’s version of The Little Mermaid only to fall asleep half-way through The Sleeping Beauty, a story that was much more traumatizing than the Disney version, if he had to be honest.

Unlike the princess, as much as he might have wished, Bob wasn’t awakened by a kiss of true love, but by lowly-talking voices. One of them was unmistakably Y/N’s as she asked someone in the room, “Is she one of those death-cats? You know, the ones who know when people are gonna die and sleep only next to them?”

“Dunno,” Bucky’s low rumble echoed around the room. “But I guess, you’ll be the test subject of that theory.”

“Great. Thanks. Looking forward to it,” Y/N deadpanned. “Just so you know, I so will haunt your ass if that’s the case.”

Bob was terrified to raise his head or make any sort of movement that would indicate he was awake because that would mean he’d have to untangle his hand from Y/N’s, and he didn’t know if she’d ever allow him to hold it again.

Not that he had much say in that decision as Alpine had made her way around the bed and smacked him right on top of the head.

“The hell?” He jumped up, rubbing against where her paw had met his skull.

For a cat, Alpine was alarmingly strong. But then he remembered how John hated when she came to sleep in his room and had started placing dumbbells before the door, only to have basically jacked Alpine up, as she could now open it even if there was a ten-pound one before it.

“Okay, Alpine?” Bucky lifted the white feline up from where she glared at Bob. “No violence before eight AM. Scram.”

If a cat could scoff, Bob was sure Alpine would’ve done just that, as she jumped off the bed, tail high as she padded out of the room, Bucky following her with a promise of some breakfast for the two.

Once alone, Bob gave Y/N, what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “M-Morning. How uh how are you feeling?”

She grunted, as she slipped her forearms underneath her and attempted to sit up, Bob immediately taking her pillow and placing it behind her back. “Overall, fine, I guess. Leg hurts like a bitch, though I’m not surprised, given how my inside bones were staring at me at one point.”

“Inside bones?” he chuckled. “Aren’t all bones inside bones?”

“Your teeth are your outside bones, and fun fact,” Y/N wiggled her brows. “Your tongue is the only muscle in your body you can actually see.”

“That is not a fun fact. It is actually a horrifying fact,” Bob frowned as he became a bit too aware of his teeth and tongue and the way it wouldn't comfortably sit in his mouth.

But it was Y/N’s laugh, the real kind, that brought him out of the spiral, and he felt like he was being bathed in sunlight. He was warm and all lit up from the inside out. Yet as the moment passed, slowly that feeling dissipated, leaving them under the clinical fluorescents of the hospital. Bob cleared his throat, eyes jutting around the room, not making contact with Y/N until she let out a heavy sigh.

“Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

“Let’s get what… over with?”

“Look,” Y/N closed her eyes, biting down hard on her bottom lip, and god, did Bob want to be the one doing that. “You don’t have to apologize for your feelings. I mean, clearly, I misread some signals and got it all wrong.”

“What? No!” He shook his head, so unprepared for where the conversation was going. “No, I’m the one that has to say sorry, because I d-”

“No, you don’t,” Y/N interrupted him with a raised hand. “Because your feelings are yours, and whatever they might be, they’re valid and you are valid in havi-.”

“But I don’t feel that way!”

“I just don’t want things to be weird between us, you know?” She continued on with her spiel, a speech Bob felt like had been prepared by her, and his heart ached at the thought of her mulling it all over in her head, trying to accept the fact that he didn’t like her. “Like I know I basically ran away to a different country an-”

“Y/N, can you please let me talk?” Bob was on the verge of tears as she rolled on.

His anxiety was already sky-high, and there was no way he’d be able to take any more heartbreak, apologies or attempts to quell his guilt at not reciprocating. Which is why he did something he never thought he would.

Bob simply stood up from his seat, leaned over Y/N, took her cheeks between his hands and bent his lips to hers.

Y/N was frozen in an instant, having not anticipated this move, and if he was honest, neither had he, but slowly, as he pressed closer, his nose brushing along the bridge of hers, her body came back to life, a hand moving to the nape of his neck, while he swallowed a breath that stuttered out of her lungs.

That little moment alone, the one where he could feel her physically react to him, elevated Bob to another dimension. Sure, his lips were clumsy after years of not having any sort of romantic partners, and his nerves didn’t do him any favors, as he attempted to deepen the kiss only to knock his teeth against hers.

And yet it was theirs.

It was awkward and new and exploratory.

And it was the best kiss of Bob’s life.

He would not change a single thing. Well, maybe Y/N wouldn’t be stuck in the med bay with her leg in a cast, but other than that, it was perfect.

The way her fingers tangled in the small hairs at the nape of his neck. The way her other hand cupped his jaw, pulling him harder against her. The way Y/N sighed his name into his mouth as if he was the air she needed to breathe.

It was that small thing, breathing, that made them finally part, but they didn’t go too far away from one another. Bob was done with distance, as he kept his forehead pressed to hers, chest heaving and body already craving more.

He could feel her brows furrow in confusion, but she didn’t try to break their connection. “But I thought… I mean you literally said you didn’t like me…”

“I clammed up,” Bob sighed, pecking her lips again, already addicted to the feeling. To the taste. No drug could compare to the way his heart felt so full at the fact that she pressed them right back. “I… look… I’m not proud of it, but just… I’ve been in love with you for so long, that moment when you said you might love me too… that was something that only happened in my dreams… and I’m not good with words. I’m even worse with people and my emotions… All I know is that whenever you’re around, you make it easier. You make me feel like I’m enough… And I was scared to mess that up… because I can't not have you in my life. So, I accepted having you as a friend. If that was the only way I could have you around, so be it… but when you told me that… that you love me… I just didn’t know what to do… I didn’t want to wake from that dream… and I panicked...”

When he dared to take a look at Y/N, he pulled back in alarm, as she had tears rolling down her face, coming to a point at her chin, but he wiped them away before they could drop down.

“Oh, don’t cry,” Bob’s own voice cracked. “Please, don’t cry. I – this is the last thing I wanted to do.”

“Bob, you are enough,” Y/N almost hissed as she cupped his face. “You hear me? With or without me, you are enough. You don’t need someone to complete you. You’re not some puzzle missing a piece, okay?” She huffed an angry breath, shaking her head. “I hate that notion, you know? That somehow, we’re all missing parts of ourselves and the second we find a partner, then magically poof!” She made an explosion-motion with her hands, “You’re whole when you already are a whole and worthy person. With or without someone there, you are good enough.”

His heart practically splintered and mended in his chest, as Y/N tried to get it through to him, how, no matter what, he still had a purpose, he was still worthy the same way the others were. He was still allowed to take up space and not apologize for it.

Bob hadn’t even noticed how tears had started sliding down, not until she reached up and wiped them away.

“But,” Y/N’s tone was much softer now, her fingers trailing along his jaw, tracing his eyebrows and pressing against where crow’s feet appeared by his eyes when he smiled. “There’s this Japanese tradition called kintsugi, where broken things are mended with gold. And that is who I believe people are. Who I am… who you are… we’re all just broken little pots, mended with gold. And I’d like to think we can be each other’s gold when water starts to seep through the cracks.”

“I like that,” Bob choked out as a smile bloomed on his face. “I really like that. Like Lilo and Stitch – a little broken, but still good.”

“Exactly,” she nodded, slowly pulling his head closer to hers once more. “Because I know for a fact, you are my gold, Bob. You’re my light.”

And for the first time in a while, he wasn’t afraid to stand in the direct beam of it, because he was made of it. No longer an entity of darkness and shadow, but someone who could illuminate the life of others.

And when she kissed him, a thousand suns exploded with love.

BONUS

“Are you sure, you’re steady?” Bob worried his bottom lip, as he watched Y/N clamber around on her crutches.

It was fascinating, really. During their day-to-day lives, he’d watched her during training sessions, mouth agape in awe at the way she moved, sparring with Bucky, Alexei and John sometimes three-on-one, and having no trouble in taking them down.

She was incredible, flipping through the air like it was nothing. Now, however, she was worse than a newborn deer on ice, because somehow, despite everything, Y/N had never broken a bone so bad, she needed to be on crutches. And she had no balance whatsoever.

“I,” she huffed. “Am,” and puffed. “Fine,” and grunted with strain. The elevator was all of twenty steps away from where Y/N’s recovery room was, and yet she’d barely managed to get halfway. “But I would be better if they took this fucking cast off. I’m healed anyway.”

“Not according to your X-rays.”

Y/N scoffed. “My body heals by the second, not even minute. Besides, isn’t it the point of the metal plates they put there? To hold the bones together?”

After she’d awoken and Bob had explained, through an intense amount of blushing and stuttering how he’d written her a whole bunch of love letters, putting them in a copy of Pride and Prejudice, when he presented the book to her, he’d also revealed to Y/N what Yelena had told him about her time in the Red Room.

“I just hope you’re not mad at me. Or her… I don’t want this to impact your relationship.”

Y/N tilted her head, giving him a reassuring smile. “No. Never at you two… I just… I’m not proud of it, you know? And I don’t like reliving it, even if it’s just talking about it, but no… I’m not angry she told you about it or that you know.”

“I mean, I would never judge you,” Bob instantly took Y/N’s hand in his own, worried she might be feeling unworthy, an emotion he was all too familiar with. “I – I’d never. You didn’t choose it, you know.”

“I know you don’t.” She pulled him gently by the wrist so he would come closer and pressed her lips to his, sending Bob’s heart galloping. “Which is one of the reasons I love you. Now come on, help me up. I desperately need a shower, and some fresh clothes.”

So there they were, Y/N hobbling closer to the elevator, but before Bob could press the button for her, it dinged, Walker and Yelena exiting, each holding a bag of take-out in their hands.

“And where do you think you are hopping to, legushka moya?” Yelena chuckled, as Y/N threw her the dirtiest glare possible, forehead gleaming with sweat.

“To my room,” she grunted. “I am sick and tired of smelling like antiseptic, so I will be taking a shower with my strawberries and cream gel, washing my hair with my grapefruit and basil shampoo, and slathering my skin in my vanilla body cream, so I can smell like a fucking cupcake garden. And you cannot stop me.”

Yelena raised a brow. “I could literally take away one of the crutches and you’d be down.”

“Suchka,” Y/N swore while John laughed at the two.

“Just be careful with all that slipperiness,” he gave a smirk and crossed his arms. “Wouldn’t want our legushka to become leg-less because she tripped or something.”

Honestly, Bob didn’t think even if Sentry was in charge, he would’ve been able to see or prevent the punch that connected with Walker’s face.

Blood exploded like a popped water balloon, painting her knuckles, face, chest, the ground, walls and everyone’s clothes in red, as food containers dropped to the ground.

“What the fuck, Y/L/N!?” John hollered, clutching at his very much so broken nose. “God, something is really wrong with you!”

A muscle twitched in her jaw, and Bob placed a gentle hand on her elbow, more to hold her back from another attack, but also to steady her, as she sneered. “You do not get to call me that. Try it again, and see where it gets you.”

Walker groaned, eliciting a phlegm-filled cough. “Fucking hell, you’re weird!”

“Come on,” Yelena threw her head back in a cackle, winking at Y/N. “Let’s try to find a doctor and set that nose before it heals crooked. Though maybe not? You could definitely do with an adjustment.”

“Oh, fuck you both!” Walker threw a middle finger at the two, stomping away as Yelena followed, laughing through it all.

Bob let out a nervous chuckle of his own. “You have a mean right hook, you know? Wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end that’s for sure.”

“You can call me anything you’d like. But I think I uh… I’d prefer if you called me yours...” Y/N turned her head a bit to the side, a sheepish smile quirking on her lips.

“Mine…” Bob whispered the word with reverence.

“Yours,” she echoed. “If you’ll have me like that.”

He swallowed hard, slowly moving to stand in front of Y/N and turning her head so they faced one another. “Only as long as I get to be yours too.”

It was the way she smiled, that took his breath away.

It was the way he could see, Y/N herself had to push an overwhelming amount of emotions down, just to not cry.

It was the knowledge she did love him like he loved her.

Because in truth, she already had both his heart and soul.

Come rain or shine, winter or summer, day or night, Bob had been Y/N’s from the very beginning.

And knowing he could be someone’s home like she had been his?

Yeah.

There was nothing really like it.

Tags: Marvel tags: @nerissa98 @asguardiansoftheavengers @crazybutconfidentaf @pizzarollpatrol @desir-ae A/N: well... this got out of hand fast :D Bob tags are open for futre fics :)

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