wutheringheightstillpendalhill

[wutheringheightstillpendalhill]

Anyways

[wutheringheightstillpendalhill]

Any day now

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Cards and Crushes 🪬 R.Reynolds

WC: 5.4k

Bob Reynolds x M!Barnes!OC

tags: fluff, light angst

Blinking once. Twice.

The world gradually shifted back into focus as reality reasserted itself, the young man's consciousness slowly returning to the present moment like a boat drifting back to shore after being lost at sea. With deliberate effort, he turned his head toward the rhythmic sound of hands being clapped beside him, the motion both cautious and uncertain, as if testing whether his body would still respond to his commands. Bob

Human Bob.

Not the Sentry who had held him tightly by the throat.

Not the Void that had held him in a chock hold as he watched Tony die over and over again.

Just Bob who had fought the darkness to save them.

Ellis struggled to part his lips, desperately trying to form words to address the other man, but before he could manage to vocalize his thoughts, the entire group found themselves engulfed in an overwhelming wave of chaos. Journalists and photographers swarmed around them like hungry vultures, their voices rising in a cacophonous chorus as they shouted questions and called out repeatedly to "the wayward adoptive son of the deceased Stark Billionaire." The PR team frantically attempted to establish some semblance of order, their professional composure starting to crack under the mounting pressure of the situation, while their hurried instructions and urgent directions became lost in the growing commotion. Meanwhile, the rest of their misfit family stumbled along in bewildered silence, their expressions a mixture of concern and confusion as they watched the scene unfold before them, unsure of how to react to this sudden invasion of their privacy.

Valentina swiftly shepherded the group back into the protective confines of the Watchtower, her movements precise and purposeful as she guided them away from the media frenzy. A profound emptiness began to take root deep within the younger Barnes' chest, expanding with each passing moment like a void threatening to consume him from within. As he deliberately tuned out the persistent cacophony of voices that still echoed through the corridors, fragments of memories from what felt like another lifetime entirely flickered through his consciousness, each one a sharp reminder of how much had changed and how much remained painfully familiar.

The thoughts swirling through his mind became a persistent echo, an inescapable realization that he had somehow found himself thrust back into the role of an Avenger - a position he had deliberately stepped away from, a mantle he had consciously chosen to leave behind. The weight of this unwanted responsibility pressed heavily upon his shoulders, each moment amplifying his desperate longing for the peaceful sanctuary he had found in Wakanda. His heart ached for the serene landscapes and the gentle rhythms of life there, for the warm embraces of his sisters, for the steadfast presence of the Dora Milaje warriors who had become like family, and for Shuri's infectious laughter and brilliant mind that had helped him heal. The stark contrast between that life and his current situation only intensified his yearning to return to the place that had truly become his home.

In the aftermath of the devastating Avengers schism of 2016, Wakanda had become more than just a refuge for Ellis - it had transformed into his true home, a sanctuary where he could finally begin to heal. T'Challa, with his characteristic wisdom and compassion, had not merely offered him shelter; he had welcomed Ellis as a brother, extending to him the full privileges and protections of the royal family. This gesture of unconditional acceptance had meant everything to Ellis, especially in light of the profound betrayal he had experienced from those he had once considered his closest allies and confidants.

The revelation that had shattered his world hadn't just been about his identity - it had been about the web of deception woven by those he had trusted most implicitly. Every person who had claimed to be family, had been complicit in maintaining this life-altering secret. The betrayal cut deepest when his father, Tony Stark, finally confessed to having known the truth about the Winter Soldier's identity in relation to the youngster for years. This knowledge hadn't come to Tony through chance or investigation, but directly from Steve Rogers himself, during a period when Rogers had sought Stark's assistance in dismantling the remaining Hydra operations. The weight of this prolonged deception, the realization that every meaningful relationship in his life had been built on a foundation of lies, had left wounds that even Wakanda's advanced healing technologies couldn't fully mend.

Having barely entered his freshman year of high school when the fateful battle against Loki erupted across New York City, Ellis found himself thrust into a world far beyond the typical concerns of a teenager. Tony had first noticed the mysterious ethereal glow emanating from his adoptive son's hands during a particularly tense moment, and rather than responding with fear or hesitation, he had simply nodded with understanding and directed the young man toward where his newfound abilities could make the most difference. In those crucial moments, Ellis hadn't stopped to question the situation or contemplate the implications of his involvement - his mind had been singularly focused on following his father's lead and protecting those who couldn't protect themselves. His actions were driven by an pure, unwavering desire to honor his family's legacy of heroism and to step into the role of guardian that seemed to call to him so naturally.

Now, after what felt like an eternity but was merely two months since that fateful day when half of New York City had been violently thrust into the impenetrable darkness of the Void, he found himself seated across from Bob in contemplative silence. The weight of those terrifying events still hung heavy in the air between them, a shared trauma that neither could fully articulate but both understood intimately. The passage of time had done little to dim the vivid memories of that catastrophic incident that had forever changed the city's landscape and left its inhabitants grappling with an entirely new kind of fear.

"Do you have any fives?" Bob asked with careful deliberation, his eyes scanning the array of playing cards fanned out in his hands. He held them close to his chest, maintaining the serious concentration of a chess grandmaster contemplating their next critical move. Ellis took a moment to consider the request, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he studied his own cards. After letting the tension build for a few dramatic seconds, he finally looked up at Bob with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes and delivered his response with theatrical flair: "Go fish."

Bob let out an exaggerated sigh and rolled his eyes dramatically before reluctantly reaching for the deck to draw another card. "This is complete and utter bullshit," he muttered under his breath, his tone carrying a mix of frustration and resignation that made Ellis struggle to suppress his growing amusement. As Ellis casually surveyed his own hand of cards, a knowing smirk playing across his features, he couldn't help but notice Bob's increasingly evident disappointment with their chosen game. "You know," Ellis suggested with gentle persuasion, his voice carrying a hint of playful wisdom, "Go Fish really does share quite a few similarities with Sevens... I'm just saying, we probably should have gone with my original suggestion and played Sevens instead." The words were delivered with a characteristically sly grin, his expression a perfect blend of friendly teasing and genuine amusement at their current predicament.

Bob, ever the picture of tranquility and composure, responded with a characteristically measured shrug that seemed to embody his peaceful nature. "I have to say, I definitely prefer Go Fish to most card games," he mused thoughtfully, his voice carrying the gentle warmth that had become his trademark since overcoming the darkness. After a moment's consideration, a subtle note of playful suspicion crept into his tone as he continued, "but now I'm starting to wonder if you've figured out some clever way to cheat at this too... You know, Ava specifically warned me about playing cards with you. She was quite emphatic about it, actually. Said you've got an entire arsenal of tricks up your sleeve, and the more I think about it, the more convinced I am that she might have been trying to save me from myself here." His eyes narrowed slightly, though the friendly twinkle in them betrayed his mock seriousness.

A comfortable silence settled between them, the kind that only exists between people who have faced extraordinary circumstances together. Ellis took his time before breaking it, his expression carefully neutral as he asked, "Got any 10s?" Bob's resigned sigh spoke volumes as he reluctantly surrendered two cards, prompting Ellis to offer what he hoped was a consoling explanation. "If it makes you feel any better, I only really pull out the tricks when Walker is playing... and honestly, I can't take credit for any of it. My sisters were the ones who taught me how to cheat without leaving a trace," he admitted, a nostalgic smile playing across his features. "But believe me, you should have seen me when I was younger - fucking Rogers used to be able to read me like an open book, consistently outplaying me no matter what I tried. Those were some humbling days, let me tell you."

The memory brought a faint smile to Ellis's face, though it was tinged with a hint of melancholy as he recalled those simpler times. He absently shuffled his cards, the familiar motion providing a momentary distraction from the complex emotions stirring within him. "Your turn," he said softly, redirecting his focus back to their game.

"You never talk about them anymore..." Bob murmured thoughtfully, his voice gentle as he studied Ellis with a concerned expression. There was no judgment in his gaze, only genuine curiosity and care as he seemed to contemplate the weight of his own observation. A moment of heavy silence stretched between them before he added softly, "The Avengers, I mean. Your old team."

"What do you mean?" Ellis responded, his voice barely above a whisper as he drew in a sharp, unsteady breath. His fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around the cards in his hands, and he deliberately kept his gaze downcast, baby blue eyes meticulously tracing the familiar patterns of black and red print as though they held some secret answer. The simple geometric shapes of hearts, diamonds, clubs, and spades became an anchor, something concrete to focus on as he tried to maintain his composure.

Bob's gentle inquiry hung in the air, weighted with unspoken understanding of the complex emotions it stirred. Ellis felt the familiar tightness in his chest, that mixture of longing and hurt that always accompanied thoughts of his former team. His hands moved mechanically through the motions of organizing his cards, buying precious seconds as he wrestled with how to respond to such a deceptively simple question.

“There’s not much to say..” he shrugged.

He knew his terse response wasn't entirely fair to Bob, who had been nothing but supportive since they'd first met. The truth was, talking about the Avengers meant confronting a tangle of memories that still felt too raw, too complicated to unravel. Every recollection was a double-edged sword, carrying both the warmth of family and the sting of betrayal.

Finally lifting his gaze, Ellis's eyes met Bob's steady stare across the table. In that moment of connection, he could see the depth of emotion in the other man's expression - a profound mixture of sadness and understanding that spoke volumes without words. Years ago, when Ellis was younger and more guarded, such an intense look would have made him uncomfortable, perhaps even defensive. But things were different now. After months of sharing living space with Bob, of late-night conversations and quiet moments of mutual support, of learning to trust again despite his past experiences, Ellis found himself drawing comfort from that knowing gaze. The warmth that spread through his chest wasn't just familiarity or friendship - it was the deep-seated assurance that came from knowing someone truly saw and accepted you, scars and all. It was the kind of understanding that could only develop between two people who had walked similar paths and faced similar demons, and it made the young Barnes feel grounded in a way few other things could.

"I loved them," Ellis muttered softly, his voice carrying the weight of years of complicated emotions. Bob slowly nodded in understanding, allowing the heaviness of the confession to linger in the air between them. After a long moment, Ellis cleared his throat as Bob attempted to redirect the conversation back to their game. "Got any threes?" he asked, his voice slightly unsteady. With a wordless pass of a card across the table, Ellis continued, his words barely above a whisper, "I thought they were my family and I loved them more than anything... trusted them with everything I had..."

Cards held tight in his hand, Ellis turned to meet Bob's gaze with unwavering sincerity. His voice was soft but steady as he spoke, carrying the weight of years of emotional growth and self-discovery. "I've come to realize that while my sisters will always hold that special place in my heart, there's room for new bonds to form and strengthen. With Bucky... with my dad..." he paused, letting the word settle in the air between them, "I know we have a long road ahead, but I'm finally ready to build that relationship, to give it the time and patience it deserves."

His chest quivered visibly as the words continued to flow, each one carrying the weight of deeply held emotions finally finding their voice. Bob, sensing the vulnerability of the moment, reached across the table to grip Ellis's hand firmly, offering silent support and understanding. Ellis drew strength from the gesture, his voice growing stronger as he continued, "And you know, I'm learning that family isn't just about blood or past connections. It's about the people who choose to stand by you, who see you for who you are. You, Sam, Joaquin... you've all become such important parts of my life. I may not be ready to call it love yet - that word carries so much weight for me - but I know that what we're building here, this friendship, this trust... it means everything." A small crack in his voice betrayed the depth of emotion behind his words as Bob gently set his cards down on the table, giving Ellis his complete attention.

Ellis paused, absently shuffling his cards as he collected his thoughts. The weight of his confession seemed to linger in the air between them, a testament to how far he'd come in being able to open up about these deeply personal matters. After years of keeping his emotional walls firmly in place, the simple act of sharing these feelings with Bob felt like both a victory and a relief.

"I'm sorry..." Ellis breathed, fidgeting with his cards as a nervous laugh escaped him. "Here I am going on about feelings when you asked about the Avengers." He straightened his back, trying to compose himself, though his fingers still trembled slightly against the playing cards. "You know, game nights were always interesting with them. Monopoly especially - it got completely banned from the tower after a while. Tony and Clint would form these elaborate alliances, coordinating their moves specifically to bankrupt Steve. They'd trade properties back and forth, deliberately build hotels on spaces just before Steve would land on them... it was ruthless." A ghost of a smile crossed his face at the memory. "Bruce was always the banker - probably because everyone trusted him not to cheat, though we all knew he secretly slipped extra money to Nat when he thought no one was looking. And Thor..." Ellis shook his head, the smile growing more genuine. "Thor only played once. He got so frustrated with the concept of Midgardian real estate that he brought Mjolnir down right through the middle of the board. The pieces went flying everywhere - we were finding Chance cards and tiny plastic houses for weeks afterward." The nostalgia of those memories washed over Ellis like a bittersweet wave, and he found himself unconsciously rubbing the spot on his arm where Natasha had once drawn a tiny spider in permanent marker during a particularly intense game of Risk. Even now, years later, he could still hear Tony's theatrical protests echoing through the common room, claiming that alliances in Risk were "fundamentally unethical" - all while secretly plotting with Bruce to take over Australia.

"I miss them," the words fell softly from his lips, barely above a whisper. His hands trembled slightly as he continued, voice thick with emotion, "I hate them for leaving me, for making me feel abandoned and alone. But even after everything that happened, even knowing how it all ended... I miss them so much it physically hurts sometimes. It's like there's this constant ache in my chest that never really goes away, a hollow space where they used to be..."

Ellis drew a shaky breath, his eyes fixed on the cards in his hands without really seeing them. The familiar weight of grief and longing pressed against his chest, a constant companion he'd learned to live with but never quite gotten used to. In the thoughtful silence that followed his confession, he could feel Bob's steady, understanding presence across the table - a reminder that while some bonds were irreparably broken, others had grown stronger in their place.

"I used to have a crush on you," the words tumbled out of Bob's mouth before he could stop them, hanging awkwardly in the air between them like a delicate soap bubble threatening to burst at any moment. The sudden confession seemed to freeze time itself as both men sat there, cards forgotten in their hands, the plastic-coated rectangles lying limply between their fingers. Ellis's eyes widened in genuine surprise, his mouth slightly parting as he processed the unexpected revelation, his baby blue eyes searching Bob's face as if looking for some hidden meaning or explanation. The comfortable atmosphere they had built during their card game shifted dramatically, replaced by a palpable tension that seemed to crackle in the air between them. Meanwhile, Bob's complexion steadily deepened to a vibrant shade of red, the blush creeping up from his neck to his cheeks like a rising tide, spreading across his features until even his ears had taken on a rosy hue as the full weight of his impulsive admission settled over him. His hands fidgeted nervously with the edges of his cards, the repetitive motion betraying his growing discomfort. "I... I..." Bob hesitated, his usually steady voice wavering as he struggled to come up with words, each attempted syllable seeming to stick in his throat before it could fully form.

"Seriously?" Ellis let out a surprised laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. Bob responded with an awkward nod, his cheeks flushing even darker. "You're literally a year younger than me," the older continued, genuine bewilderment in his voice. Bob shifted uncomfortably in his chair finding his voice once again. "Look, you have to understand what it was like back then," he explained, his words tumbling out in a nervous rush. "In high school, you were this... this larger-than-life figure. The mysterious Ellis Stark, Tony Stark's enigmatic son, the youngest Avenger anyone had ever known. Every single person in school had some kind of feelings about you - the girls would spend hours discussing what it might be like to date you, the guys all either wanted to be your best friend or secretly wished they could be you. You were this untouchable legend walking among us mere mortals," he admitted, his fingers anxiously picking at his nails as he steadfastly avoided making eye contact with Ellis.

Ellis felt a complex mixture of amusement and sympathy wash over him as he observed his friend's obvious discomfort, noting the way Bob's fingers fidgeted and his gaze darted nervously around the room. The situation struck him as both touching and slightly absurd - here was Bob, someone who had become such an integral part of his daily life, someone who knew his struggles and fears intimately, confessing to having once placed him on an unreachable pedestal. The idea that Bob - the very same person who now sat across from him during these late-night card games, sharing deep conversations about their hopes and fears, exchanging knowing looks over inside jokes, and offering unwavering support through difficult moments - had once viewed him through such an idealized, almost mythical lens seemed almost incomprehensible. It served as a poignant reminder of the remarkable journey their relationship had taken, evolving from that initial distance of hero-worship into something far more meaningful: a friendship built on mutual understanding, shared experiences, and genuine trust. The contrast between Bob's former perception of him as an untouchable celebrity and their current comfortable companionship highlighted just how far they'd both come. "When I saw you in the vault I was so nervous seeing you.. felt like I was back being a teen seeing you giving interviews with the other avengers or seeing your pictures in the papers," Bob explained in a rush, his words tumbling out with an earnestness that spoke to the lingering impact of those earlier impressions.

"I hated those interviews," Ellis muttered, his voice tinged with a mixture of discomfort and remembered anxiety. "All those cameras flashing, reporters shouting questions, having to carefully choose every word... it felt like being under a microscope. The whole time I'd be thinking about how one wrong statement could end up splashed across headlines the next day."

Bob offered a gentle, understanding smile that spoke volumes about their shared experiences. Ellis studied his friend for a long moment, taking in the way Bob's earlier nervousness had gradually melted into their usual comfortable dynamic. A playful grin slowly spread across Ellis's face as he leaned back in his chair, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "So, about this crush," he drawled, his tone deliberately light and teasing. "Should I be flattered? Please tell me you weren't one of those kids who had their walls plastered with my magazine covers and press photos?" The gentle ribbing carried no malice, only the warmth of friendship and the easy banter they'd developed over time.

Bob groaned and buried his face in his hands, the tips of his ears turning pink again. "No, no wall posters," he mumbled through his fingers. "But I may have... collected some of the trading cards. You know, the official Avengers merchandise ones?" He peeked through his fingers to gauge Ellis's reaction, looking both mortified and amused at his own teenage enthusiasm.

A laugh escaped Ellis as he shook his head in amusement. "Oh man, I remember those trading cards," he said, running a hand through his hair. "They were actually pretty well designed, weren't they? Had all our stats and everything. I still have my complete set tucked away somewhere - even the limited edition holographic ones Tony insisted on having made. Though I have to admit, it was pretty surreal seeing my own face staring back at me from a trading card."

Bob smiled sheepishly, his earlier embarrassment giving way to nostalgia. "I think I already told you this but I distinctly remember spending weeks trying to trade for your special edition card - the one from the Battle of New York collection. Never did manage to get my hands on it though." The admission seemed to further lighten the mood between them, transforming what had started as an awkward confession into yet another shared memory that strengthened their friendship.

After a moment of contemplative silence, Ellis's lips curved into a gentle smile. With practiced ease, he activated his powers, his form dissolving into a swirling cloud of light yellow smoke that lingered briefly in the air like an ethereal reminder of his presence. The wisps of colored vapor danced and twisted for a few heartbeats before dissipating completely, leaving Bob alone in the suddenly quiet room, the empty chair across from him a stark reminder of their meaningful conversation.

Several heartbeats passed in silence before Ellis materialized back in his chair, his form coalescing from wisps of yellow opaque smoke that danced and shimmered in the air around him like fragments of captured sunlight. As the last traces of vapor settled, a playful glint sparkled in his eyes, suggesting both mischief and anticipation.

"Hold out your hand," he commanded softly but firmly, his tone carrying that familiar mix of gentle authority and quiet determination that left absolutely no room for Bob to argue or hesitate. His eyes remained fixed on Bob's face, watching expectantly for compliance.

Bob hesitated for a moment, a mix of curiosity and trust playing across his features, before extending his hand palm-up across the table. His eyes remained fixed on Ellis's face, trying to decipher the meaning behind that enigmatic smile that seemed to hold both playfulness and significance. The gentle overhead light cast soft shadows across their faces as they sat in this moment of anticipation, the earlier weight of their conversation giving way to something lighter, yet no less meaningful. Ellis reached into his pocket and withdrew something small that glinted in the light - a trading card, its holographic surface catching and scattering the room's illumination in mesmerising patterns. As he placed it carefully in Bob's waiting palm, the special edition Battle of New York card revealed itself, its pristine condition suggesting it had been carefully preserved over the years. Bob's eyes widened in disbelief as he recognised the very card that had eluded him in his youth, his fingers trembling slightly as they closed around this unexpected gift.

"Is this...?" Bob's voice trailed off in wonder as his eyes darted back and forth between the holographic trading card gleaming in his palm and the young man sitting across from him. The expression of pure amazement on his face made him look years younger, like that starstruck teenager he'd once been. "Happy Birthday, Robby," Ellis said softly, his voice warm with affection as he watched his friend's reaction. Bob's gaze flickered briefly to the oversized clock mounted on the kitchenette wall - the one that Yelena and Walker had adamantly insisted on installing, claiming it would help everyone keep better track of time during their late-night gatherings.

02:38.

It was the morning of his birthday.

He blinked once. twice.

Bob stared at the card in quiet amazement, overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness of the gesture. The fact that Ellis had not only remembered his confession about the trading cards but had also kept track of his birthday touched him deeply. A soft smile spread across his face as his fingers traced the holographic surface, the memory of his teenage admiration now transformed into something far more meaningful.

"Thank you," he whispered softly, his voice thick with emotion. Ellis ducked his head slightly, a faint blush coloring his cheeks at the heartfelt gratitude in Bob's words. "I got you a couple other presents too," Ellis admitted with a small smile, fidgeting slightly with the edge of his sleeve. "But Yelena and Ava have this whole elaborate birthday dinner planned for later today, and they've been working really hard on it. Plus, I know for a fact that Alexei would literally throw me straight out the nearest window if I showed up without saving something for you to unwrap at the party. He takes gift-giving ceremonies very seriously, you know how he is..." Bob chuckled at that, clearly able to picture the exact scenario Ellis was describing. The mental image of the large Russian man's dramatic reaction to someone disrupting his carefully orchestrated gift-giving plans was both amusing and entirely plausible. The comfortable silence that settled between them was broken only by the soft shuffling of cards as they resumed their game, both men sharing knowing smiles at the thought of their found family's endearing quirks.

After playing two more rounds, which Bob managed to win with a combination of luck and skill that left Ellis shaking his head in amused disbelief, they decided to call it a night. The cards were carefully gathered and returned to their worn cardboard box, the familiar routine of cleaning up marking the end of another evening spent in comfortable companionship. As the late hour settled around them, Ellis offered to walk Bob back to his room, a gesture that had become something of a tradition between them after their late-night card sessions.

As they arrived at Bob's door, the older man paused and turned to face Ellis, uncertainty written across his features. A shy, almost hesitant expression flickered across his face as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, clearly wrestling with something on his mind. After a moment's deliberation, he finally spoke, his voice soft and tentative in the quiet hallway. "Can I ask something?" The words came out carefully measured, each syllable carrying a weight of hesitation that suggested whatever question he had in mind wasn't entirely easy for him to voice.

Ellis tilted his head slightly, a gentle expression of encouragement on his face as he waited for Bob to continue. The soft glow from the hallway lights cast shadows across their faces, lending an air of intimacy to this quiet moment between friends. Bob's fingers absently traced the edge of the trading card he still held, drawing comfort from its presence as he gathered his thoughts.

"Can I... would it be okay if..." Bob trailed off uncertainly, his words catching in his throat as he struggled to voice the question that had been lingering in his mind. His fingers fidgeted nervously with the edge of the trading card as he tried again, the words coming out hesitant and fragmented. "I was wondering if maybe..." he faltered once more, clearly wrestling with how to phrase whatever it was he wanted to ask.

Ellis regarded the other with gentle understanding, his head tilting slightly as a warm, encouraging smile played across his features. "I don't bite, you know," he said with a playful lilt to his voice, the words carrying both reassurance and a touch of cheekiness that was characteristic of their comfortable friendship.

Letting out a heavy breath of air, Bob gathered his courage. Time seemed to slow as he leaned forward slightly, his movements cautious and deliberate. His heart thundered in his chest as he pressed a chaste, feather-light kiss to the corner of Ellis's lips, the contact brief but carrying the weight of years of unspoken feelings. Almost immediately, he stepped back, his gaze dropping to study his feet with intense concentration, a flush creeping up his neck to color his cheeks. His voice emerged as barely more than a whisper, soft and slightly tremulous in the quiet hallway. "Goodnight."

Time seemed to stretch endlessly in that suspended moment as Ellis stood frozen, his mind racing to process what had just happened. The ghost of that gentle touch lingered on his skin as he watched Bob's retreating form disappear behind his bedroom door, leaving Ellis alone in the dimly lit hallway with a storm of conflicting emotions swirling in his chest. His fingers unconsciously rose to brush against the spot where Bob's lips had met his skin.

“Goodnight.. Robby..”

[wutheringheightstillpendalhill]

Project: Get Over Bob (2)

pairing. Bob Reynolds x reader

synopsis. Bob likes someone that’s not you and now its up to you to carry on Project Get Over Bob.

warnings. Mentions of suicide (vagueish), mentions of child abuse and  forms of non-physical self-harm, mentions of drugs :( Bob just struggling a lot with life but reader and the team are there to make it better even if it’s just a bit. Lots of angst and no comfort… Yet. Also, a bit of kissing. I may have made reader english unintentionally :) expansion of readers relationship with the team!! The Void and a little?bit of the Sentry make an appearance.

word count. 6.5k

Notes at the end of this chapter

Phase: Bob?

Robert Reynolds grew up like a dog, held taught at the neck, beaten into submission for the hell of it. He'd spent 29 years running from the cage he grew up in.

From backwater towns to unkind cities, across borders and oceans, he was always searching for his next high.

And every time he found it and crashed, he crashed harder.

All of his misfortune had led him to Kuala Lumpur. What better place, he thought, for cheap meth and good food?

Not that he could afford either once he landed. His so-called "working holiday" quickly devolved into sleepless nights and cheap motel rooms.

The lab was a nightmare, and the splitting of his mind it hurt, it hurt so much. But none of it compared to the guilt.

The sickening knowledge that he'd hurt people.

That he'd become the thing he feared.

His father had always told him: Violence is in your blood. One day, you'll understand it's not cruelty—it’s survival. Bob had spent his life trying to prove him wrong, only to fail.

Waking up in the vault was terrifying. But that fear was eclipsed by the feeling of something stronger, the opportunity of a real life.

A final chance.

He regarded it as the single most important event in his life. Sure, the sentry serum was life-changing. But he’d give it up in a heartbeat if it meant keeping what he had now.

And you were there the day it all started.

You weren’t a child assassin like Yelena, or a phasing shadow like Ava, or a walking weapon like Alexei, Bucky, or Walker. But you moved with purpose. Precision. That quiet intensity set you apart. You weren’t the strongest in the vault. But took twice as many hits as you deal and got up three times as fast.

Now in the tower, most of Bob’s nights were spent with you. He’d perch himself on your sofa, fingers picking at the frayed threads along the armrest, eyes blurred but never closed. You’d talk about everything. The strange weather, Alexei’s obsession with marketing, the new taco shop opening downstairs—mundane things, your voice soft and steady, trying to anchor him.

The room always felt smaller when you were there. Your presence was a warmth that filled every corner, something he could almost reach out and hold if he wasn’t so afraid of breaking it.

But even you couldn’t keep the thoughts out.

The silence between your words gave them space. The darkness of the room fed them. And the safety you offered made them bolder.

“I wish I’d died in Sarasota,” he said one night.

Your head snapped toward him, eyes wide with a fear he hadn’t expect.

“Hey—no, no. Please don’t say that, Robert”  you moved closer  “Please just- just look at me”

Your hand cupped his face, fingertips grazing the edge of his jaw, soft and trembling.

It wasn’t romantic.

It wasn’t sexual.

It was safe feeling, he’d always wanted that.

You always gave it to him.

“Look, I won’t tell you that you can’t feel like this, it wouldn’t be right for me to say that. But you’ve been working so hard to unpack your issues and work at them, please, please just give yourself the credit you deserve”

He blinked up at you, fighting the urge to look away.

“Most people go their whole lives never even trying to unpack their pain,” you continued, voice low but unwavering. “But you—you’re facing it. That’s brave”

And for a moment.

The void inside him seemed to shrink that bit smaller.

Being at the tower felt freer than the life of a nomad he’d adopted for the past 7 years. There were still plenty of rules, curfews, schedules and therapy sessions—but the structure gave him purpose. It kept his mind and body active.

Every morning, Yelena would bang on his door like a madman.

“Make sure you grab your coffee ~” she’d call through the door, already bounding halfway down the hall by the time he’d have opened his eyes.

There, he’d find you with your back turned, shuffling through the music on your phone, tapping your foot lightly to the beat. He’d reach over and grab two cups for you both before heading out for a run in Central Park with Yelena, well, he’d be attempting to run, but that was besides the point.

He’d run beside Lena, wheezing through half-finished stories about old jobs or nights he barely remembered. She’d hit back with tales from the Red Room. They were always darker, sometimes sad, but she was a master of comedy so he’d be barking out laughs between gasps for air the whole way.

Once she was finished torturing him he’d head back to the tower to meet Ava in the lab.

She was helping him work toward his GED—something he’d started years ago, then abandoned when life got too loud. Now, with all the time and resources in the world, he thought it would be a good time to start again.

Ava was the best teacher he could ask for.

She never rolled her eyes when he forgot how to do something, never laughed when he misread something aloud.

Her teaching was patient and kind.

Ava wasn’t much of a talker, which was a given with her solitary upbringing but that was fine with him. They’d spend time in comfortable silence, with Bob occasionally breaking it to ask a question. Both of them used to the quiet, neither of them quite understood what normal looked like but their quiet friendship fulfilled them both.

After finishing up with his work, Bucky would usually steal him away for sparring.

“You keep dropping your guard,” he’d grunt, tossing Bob onto the mat for the fifth time in the past ten minutes.

“I don’t have a guard,” Bob would mutter, staring up at the ceiling begging someone, anyone for a break.

God, he hated physical exercise.

The sentry serum had made Bob invincible and while he didn’t feel any pain, his frustration was with his lack of ability.

His strength was absolute, his body impenetrable, but, he wanted to be able to move around with the same grace and stealth that the others did.

Bucky pushed him harder than anyone else.

But it never felt cruel.

It was focused and encouraging.

Like he was his older brother who believed in him enough to never go easy.

You’d sometimes be there too, just out of sight in the adjacent room. You’d be reviewing mission footage or deep in a debrief.

Bob liked it better when you weren’t watching. Not because he didn’t want you there, he just preferred to keep his exploits or lack thereof between the senator and himself instead.

Dinner was one of the best parts of his day.

Sitting at the dinner table didn’t involve endless lectures or threats of harm. Alexei and John would always be the first ones at the table, seated across from him like some sort of strange uncle-nephew trio. They weren’t constantly at each others throats but when they were it was way more entertaining for him.

John always had a dumb joke ready but Alexei managed to always have a weirder one. Half the time, they would argue about whether Kramer vs Kramer was a Christmas movie or if John had browned the butter well enough for the banana bread.

“Why do you even eat potatoes like this?” Alexei would say, stabbing one with his fork “It is so dry, no soul”

“You’re literally Russian dude?!!” John would shoot back his voice raising an octave.

“Russia has great food, you know my father-”

Bob was definitely not listening to the rest of that. But he would smile and finish his meal with a warmth in his heart and that’s all that mattered.

You and Bob would take your daily walks after dinner.

The city was quieter at night.

Well, New York never really was, but it was quieter in the way Bob liked. Just a low rumble of traffic in the distance and the occasional click of footsteps as you both aimlessly wandered.

Bob chuckled at your retelling of your siblings meeting Ava for the first time. His smile lingered even after you’d finished talking, it was a strange one. It felt like he was half-sincere and half-lost in thought. His steps slowed and he turned to you, “You’re one of my best friends, y’know, just thought I’d tell you” said more like a question than a statement.

You smiled. “That’s why you’ve been looking constipated this entire walk?”

He huffed a laugh, but his face still has a serious look “I mean it. It’s not just because we have to live together or mission stuff. You’re always there for me even when I’ve been hard to be around”

“Bob, you’ve never been hard to be around, ever”

He didn’t respond right away. His jaw flexed and eyes fixed somewhere past your shoulder.

“I guess I-I just keep thinking” voice low “That I’m this ticking time bomb. Like the more time you guys spend with me, the quicker I’ll blow up a fuse and hurt you all”

You were quiet for a second. Then you said, “You ever think that maybe we don’t need protecting from you? That having you around is so good that we’d be willing to keep the Void at bay forever? I would go through hundereds of rooms for you Robert, every damn day if I had to, I’m sure the others would too”

You didn’t say anything else, and he stared at you for a moment before sputtering out that it was late and you should both head back. He really hoped you hadn’t noticed how red his ears were.

Bob thought that maybe you liked him the way he liked you.

But he decided to push silly thoughts like that away. You would have said that to everyone.

It wasn’t that Bob himself didn’t like you; he just felt as though pursuing you would be another Malaysia. He would somehow grip your light so tightly that it would burn only you, leaving him at the centre of yet another massacre. And Bob was far too kind, he cared for you far too much to doom you to a life of walking on eggshells.

He would get over you. And he knew just what to have to start his journey.

A sweet treat.

Bob didn’t plan on finding the bookstore.

He was walking to find a new dessert place, the serum left him with a serious sweet tooth.

Bob liked walking on Main Street. Sure, there was always a major risk of him literally destroying everyone in the city if the transdimensional being in him escaped but, the feeling off blending in and being normal was worth the risk.

He walked for another ten minutes before he saw it.

The bookstore that you were always raving about. You had begged them all to come with you, rambling on about the idea of a book club in preperation for the new Christopher Nolan film, but your pleading had been interrupted by Mel informing them all they had press to finish up.

He decided he’d go in and find you something, that should cheer you up.

Bob wandered into the store, trailing his fingers along the many books’ cracked spines. It reminded him of a place he’d hidden out in once, years ago.

Different city.

Different Bob.

“You looking for anything specific?” came a voice.

He turned and saw her.

A short woman with long loose waves nestled into a bun, a pencil sticking out of her pocket and reading glasses hanging around her neck. She looked at him cheekily and something about the intensity of her gaze flustered him.

“I’m-I’m not really sure, I’m looking for a friend but I have no idea what she would want” he replied honestly, scratching the back of his neck.

She smiled “Those are the best kinds of searches”

Their first conversation was short. She’d recommended some kind of fantasy novel.

He’d bought it and you were so happy that you spent the next two weeks singing Bobs praises to anyone and everyone. That included Lily.

Bob came back the next week to pick something else out. And the week after that.

And each time, Lily was there with a new recommendation. With questions about what he liked, how he was doing, how you were doing.

Sometimes they talked for a minute.

Sometimes ten.

Bob never told her who he really was, nothing about the Thunderbolts stuff, though he was sure she knew.

Just said his name was Bob and that he was working on “getting his life together.”

She never pried. Never asked why his hands sometimes shook, or why his eyes would occasionally glow. She always spoke to him gently and laughed at his shitty attempts at jokes in a way that made him feel like maybe he was just a guy in a bookstore.

Someone normal.

One day, he decided to be brave “You ever uh free for a coffee?” he asked, the words almost catching in his throat.

“As in to drink it? Or are you asking me out?” she looked surprised.

Shit, she looked like she was freaked out, he almost backed off right then, but he decided to push through. He nodded “Yeah yeah uh the second one”

She studied his face - not judgmental, just thoughtful “Okay, yeah sure, but be warned I’m coming in hot off the back of an awful relationship. Like the guy was Loki levels of out of his mind, I may go crawling back” she joked.

Bob smiled.

“Here. Take my number”

Once outside with her number tucked safely into his breast pocket, he took a moment to take in a breath.

He thought about you for a second, your smile, your voice and he felt guilty, but you didn’t like him. It was ok for him to move on and he was sure you’d support him putting himself out there.

Right?

Phase 3

Phase 3 was not feeling as easy as you’d predicted it would be.

Not thinking of Bob was difficult. He engulfed your every thought, every second of the day seemed to stretch out further than you thought possible when you worked on any task that didn’t include Bob.

Even sleep didn’t offer a break.

In your dream, Bob appeared, doe-eyed. Your hands were roaming his body and his breath was hot against the shell of your ear. He was calm and collected, his movements slow as he cradled you tightly to his chest.

His head turned to you, his lips inching closer to your face and then all at once pressed against yours. His head angled to the right to swipe his tongue against your bottom lip, the action causing you to gasp and heat to bloom in your chest.

As your hands began to reach for his face, they fell through, jolting you awake. Your bed cushioning your movements didn’t stop your face from hitting the side of the bed frame.

You’d never made out with anyone before, so how the hell did the kiss feel so real.

“What the hell?”

Huffing you drag yourself to the bathroom, you find Bucky there brushing his teeth. You say nothing to greet him and the strangeness of your silence isn’t lost on him.

He offers a smile as he makes his way out of your shared space, he’ll bother you later once he brings back a red velvet from the store near his and Steve’s old place in Brooklyn.

Remind yourself to get an electric toothbrush, this one is struggling to withstand the force of your anger as you scrape each tooth with all of your strength.

You were doing so well to not fall back into thinking of Bob.

So why did this dream have to screw everything up?

By the time you’re done damaging your enamel it’s time for another hellish sparring session with John.

Good Lord, you were not in the mood.

You unwillingly tread down to the gym, smelling the clinical bleach mats before you round the corner.

The gym always smelled like sweat, chemical cleaner, and testosterone — basically John's cologne. You pushed the door open hard, making it slam against the frame making John jump from the noise and trip over the weight in front of him. Wat did that weight say 2000kg holy shit-

“What crawled up your ass?” he barked, startled but recovering quickly.

“Nothing. Just thought I’d get a bit of payback. You ready?” He smirked.

The mat is thick beneath your bare feet, cold and spongy. Walker stands a few feet away, stretching out his legs, the muscles in his arms rolling under his shirt. For someone so impossibly strong he sure was wirey looking.

Captain America, my ass. You reminded yourself he had limits — he had to.

You both began circling each other, and a quick step to each side had you both falling into a familiar rhythm.

“You know he came by asking for you, right?”

You rolled your eyes. “It doesn’t mean anything” you swing your fist, miming a punch, daring him to act.

Walker was always too trigger happy for his own good.

He would always bite.

“Y’know its pretty obvious to everyone include Bob that you’re distancing yourself from just him” he said, launching at you with flurry of jabs. You dodged most, but he caught your shoulder and stomach hard.

Jesus that hurt, you deserved an extra matcha latte for lunch.

“Yeah? Well, he’s the one glued to his girlfriend’s side every hour of the day” you step back with your arms up “I don’t see how that’s my problem”

He raised an eyebrow, eyes narrowing “If you don’t like him, then why would it—”

“Oh my God, John,” you cut him off, voice tight  “Everyone knows. I know Bob knows I like him. I don’t understand what people want from me! I’ve been kind. I talk to her, I talk to him, I haven’t said anything mean or snarky, I’m not making a scene. If they’re in the room, I don’t disappear, I’m trying.”

Your breathing was heavy and you could feel the pressure rising behind your eyes. You werent prone to emotional outbursts and John felt like he’d provoked you without reason.

“What more am I supposed to do?” you whispered.

John looked like he was going to say something — probably a joke, probably one of his usual offhand lines to break the tension.

But he didn’t.

“I see him with her and it really hurts”  your arms dropped and you began to take the next few of his punches half-heartedly. You weren’t fighting back anymore.

Just standing there, letting the blows land and getting back up like clockwork.

“I-I can’t do this. I’m sorry”

You turn away, walking over to the wall pressing your forehead gently against the cool panelling. It’s the only thing that you could think to do to ground you. John comes up behind you, placing his hand on the top of your back, patting it like he would do to his son when he was helping him drift off to sleep.

John spoke, his tone gentler than usual.

“How do you always eat my hits like that?” he asks “You sure you’re not a mutant or something?”

You half-laughed, half-sighed, “If I was, I wouldn’t be a B-grade superhero like Variety said”

He snorted behind you “And you believe the opinion of the magazine that made me ride my shield like a horse?”

You both laugh. John stands there with you until you calm down.

John tells you to clean up and head back upstairs, he says he doesn’t need you so stressed out so close to you guys’ next mission.

As you make your way up to the kitchen to fill up your water bottle you pass the library, freezing when you see two familiar figures sitting side by side on the floor.

Their arms are fitted so tightly next to one another, they look like their melting into each other. Lily reaches out and nudges a stray curl back behind Bob’s ear.

You feel sick.

Bob’s cheeks flush a little, and he gives her a sheepish grin and you make the mistake of scuffing your slippers across the floor in an attempt to walk away. They both look at you wide eyed, like they’d been caught somehow.

“Hey guys” your voice gentle “Looks like a tornado flew through here, what you up to?” you’re hoping the fake texan twang is enough for them to not see the obvious awkwardness on your face.

Bob giggles and she explains their plan to find the ultimate saag paneer recipe, both finishing the others thoughts and animatedly nudging each other when they think the other ones is wrong.

You decide that the scene is too intimate and too domestic and you need to run away.

Bidding them goodbye with a wide smile you all but run past the kitchen to go to your room and stew in your jealousy.

While Lily continues to argue the importance of the four forms of taste Bob swallows hard, his gaze distracted and brows slowly knotting together.

Something seriously doesn’t make sense with you.

You sit with your knees up on your bed, the soft glow from your bedside lamp casts shadows across the room. You make shapes with your hands and play with the shadows, your headphones are playing something by Lorde that makes you feel worse somehow.

That’s a first.

The door to the bathroom slowly cracks open, Ava’s brown curls visible as she inches her way in as quietly as possible.

“I’m awake y’know” you grin at her, she was so cute when she was trying to be sneaky.

She guffaws “Yeah I k-knew”

You stare at her accusingly with your brow raised.

“Ok so I thought you were asleep, so what? You can tell me off later once you tell me why you flooded your room on purpose”

“I plead the fifth” your expression completely deadpan.

“We’re both English! That doesn’t work” she roars out, not angrily but with the same tone a mother would with her child.

“Technically-“

She stops you “It wouldn’t have anything to do with the flying boy that you’ve been pining over?”

“That’s a low blow c’mon” your pout is unintentional, you love Ava but you do not need to think about him even more after the day you’ve had, it would ruin the plan even more than it already had.

“Can we just drop the topic of Bob and just hang out? Since you’ve already snuck your way into my room”, she stills for a moment and without warning jumps onto your bed and grabs your waist. With her head in your lap you begin to thread your fingers through her scalp.

She mumbles something, half of her mouth buried in the plush fabric of your pyjamas. You’re sure it’s something about the way you keep the room way too cold for comfort.

This is nice you think.

Maybe you don’t need just Bob after all.

Phase 4

Never mind maybe you do.

Bob seems to struggle less and less with the concept of never seeing you around, he fills his time with Lily and her life. You think he seems to fit in fine with her spin classes and zoo dates. Not that there’s anything wrong with exercise and animals.

It wasn’t your life, Bob wasn’t your boyfriend and he would never want to be.

Ouch.

Maybe you really were on the cusp of really becoming invisible to him.

Just like you wanted?

Whatever, you didn’t have time to think about Project Get Over Bob anyway, Valentina had scheduled a gala to honour the ‘ex- Avengers’ as she called them. None of you were happy with the phrasing and you were sure Sam would talk you, Buck, and Joaqins ear off when he met up later tonight.

Your dress had been fitted a month or two before and Mel had scheduled a glam team for everyone so you go through the first half of the day abnormally relaxed.

You, Yelena, John and Alexei make your way downstairs first. You hear someone mumble about there not being enough space for everyone in the car but the air is so cold and bitter they’re lucky your ears haven’t frozen off by the time you’re off to the venue.

Once there, you struggle to get the train of your dress to stop sticking to the bottom of your heel, you curse loud enough for Alexei to notice and carry you out like a doll.

“Your dress ok my little firecracker?”

“Yeah thanks Lexei. You guys go ahead, I wanna go to the bathroom before heading in”

He nods and turns around walking towards the others and wrapping his arms around them, binding them to himself as he rushes them in.

As you finally look up at the scene in front of you, your breath stutters.

The building in front of you was immense.

The lights perched about the balcony and grounds are blinding, and you grip the train of your dress in an attempt to calm your nerves. You focus on the sound of constant chatter and the feeling of the pebbled walkway under your heels.

Before your time with the team, you’d worked as a paralegal with the Govenor of New York. It was thankless but looked great on Linkedin. You hadn’t figured out how to write Avenger in the current jobs section without seeming like an idiot yet. Galas were a common part of your job so you weren’t worried about having to network.

No what you were nervous about was keeping your cool around Bob. You’re sure that seeing him in a suit would kill you.

Now, back from the bathroom you feel a lot lighter and not just physically.

“You’re looking very foxy tonight lady” without hesistation you reach out behind you to hit Joaqin.

“Why’d you say the same thing at every event dumbass” the man gives you a bone crushing hug and another pair of arms snake around you while he squeezes.

“Buck been training you too hard or something? You look tired” Sam and Jaoqin really were tied at the hip recently, maybe Bob’s comment about them reminding him of Tina and Tina was right.

Wait, get yourself together, no more bob!

You talk to the both of them for around twenty minutes before youre all ushered into the main room. You move effortlessly between the hoardes of investors, senators and random people that you don’t know, spitting out jokes and making conversation that the others in the team definitely don’t understand.

God bless your internship at EY.

As you make your way over to the buffet, a voice calls out your name, you turn and see your friend Finley. He’d worked on a campaign with you a few years back. You missed being less busy, even the stress of a political campaign was quieter than the constant press and training that had taken over your life. His sudden appearance was a welcome distraction.

“Look at you,” he said, pulling back to take you in “Avenger, huh? Still can’t believe you went from filing out my paperwork to fighting eldritch horrors”

“Hey it’s not my fault you were so bad at your job”

 You both laughed and decided to find a nook to reminise about your awful pay and long nights together.

Your conversation was cut short when your phone buzzed in your clutch. A quick glance at the screen showed Bob was calling you. You swipe the notification without a hesistation.

You tell youself to remember the plan.

But you feel it suddenly, like someone is burning the side of your head with a lighter. What the hell?

When you look to your left, you see him.

Bob stands a few feet away, his expression unreadable.

His suit is black, tailored so precisely it looks painted onto him. The jacket hugs the top of his shoulders so deliciously, when he moves the fabric was pulls just enough to remind you that he actually does have muscles and it isnt just rainbows under there. His shirt was crisp white, the contrast against his tan skin made your throat dry.

But it’s his face that really leaves you breathless.

His heavy brow bone, sharp and prominent, is even more pronounced under the chandelier lights. Shadows pooled in the hollows of his brow, making his already intense features twice as alluring. And his eyes—

God, his eyes.

Wait he looks really pissed.

His usually kind blue eyes looked unsettling, flashing wisps of black and gold. Did Bob always look like he was wearing eyeshadow or was it just today?

 His gaze flicks from your face to your phone, then back.

He’d seen you ignore the call. For a second, you brace waiting for him to say something, to call you out right there and then. But instead, Bob just… turns away but not before you see something raw flicker across his face, you just cant figure out what.

You text him a few times, a flurry of messages explaining you were in the middle of something important and were going to call him back, Bob replies with a thumbs up and tells you not to worry about it.

The rest of the evening is fine, you have fun stuffing your face with courgette tarts but are worried about what to do when you get home. You’re leaving for Ulaanbaatar tomorrow morning and really don’t want to leave on a bad note.

The team was beat by the time the night was over, you all pile into your cabs and single-filed your way up to your rooms. You’re two steps into yours when Bob lightly pushes his way in before the door closes.

“Hey”

His voice soft.

You turn, and there he is, still in that damn suit, his sleeves rolled up to his forearms. Was he trying to make you pass out on purpose? His eyes are tired, not angry. It makes you feel guilty, you’d have prefered him to be angry.

“You’ve been avoiding me” he states.

Not an accusation.

Just a fact.

You swallow. “I’ve been busy. The mission prep—”

“Don’t” He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t do that. Not with me”

You want to look away, but his gaze is so strong it feels like the room is falling away and all you can see is him.

“You haven’t hung out with me in weeks” he says “You stopped eating breakfast with me, you did a U-turn in the hallway when you saw me last week and I know that you hate pottery so whats going on?” a pause, he looks nervous “Did I do something?”

Your chest aches “No. It’s not you.”

“Then what is it?”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. How could you explain? That every time you saw him with Lily, laughing at some joke you weren’t part of, it felt like he was ripping your heart out with his bare hands. That you were supposed to be over him, but you weren’t, and it was eating you alive?

Before you can force out another lie, Bob’s breath hitches. He can see the cogs turning in your head, attempting to lie to him again.

Wait, was the air in the room becoming thicker or was it the stress of the situation settling into your body?

His hands clenches. His pupils dilate—too wide, too gold.

Gold? Shit.

“Bob—” You step forward, but he staggers back, not wanting to touch you, bracing himself against the wall. His knuckles turning white where they grip the plaster, cracks begin to form under his palm.

That was not good.

“I don’t understand what the fuck your problem is honestly! You go f-from telling me you aren’t avoiding me and that we’re such great friends to complete silence. I just, I don’t know what I did to make you upset with me” his voice tapers off as he lowers his hands from the wall, the anger and frustration leaving his body only to be replaced with the sinking feeling of dread that maybe you really didn’t care for him.

“Hey, sweetheart I think we should both just calm down I’ll-“

“NO, no I won’t, I refuse to be ignored. We’ve given our time to you, don’t you see that!!” his voice is hoarse and it sounds as if all three of them, Void, Sentry and, Bob are shouting at you.

His body begins shaking and before you can even think you and Bob are completely gripped by the inky black tendrils of the Void.

The Void swallows you whole.

You land on your knees in a familiar place.

“No, no, not here, not again” you whine.

Maria Hill stands to your left, frozen in time.

You missed her, you missed her more than anything. But you refused to live through it again, you worked so hard to come to terms with that day and it was a low blow for him to show you the room that you’d already worked so hard to leave a year before.

The scene changes and she’s there, right in front of you, bleeding out on the concrete.

Again.

And again.

“You like pulling cheap shots every time you force me to come here?” you scoff, sure the place scares you, but you calm yourself and remember that Bob is stronger than whatever torture the Void is willing to put you through.

He’ll be here, you know he will.

“It worked on you last time, what’s the harm with trying twice” a static like voice whispers out from behind you.

The dark figure steps out in front of you, gripping your arm so tightly you can feel your muscle and bone press grind together. Despite the pain, you can feel him, feel Bob. His presence calms you enough to stop struggling with the vice like force on your body.

You reach out, holding his face. The action angers him.

You can’t see him but feel his features curl into a snarl.

“You think that a pathetic fucking human being like you can touch me or calm him? You think he dreams of you or thinks of you even a fraction of the amount you do” his grip tightens even futher “Even the team, they think you’re dead weight, they tolerate you. Nothing more”

Suddenly Bob appears and he’s not alone.

He’s got an arm around Lily, whispering something in her ear and kissing her so deeply it feels innapropriate to observe.

You try to look away but his hand, Bob’s hand, grips your jaw leaving you unable to turn your head.

The Void purrs, his tone amused "He pities you and wants your attention because he’s bored, once he has her do you think he’ll care? He’s too kind to tell you to fuck off"

The Void senses your sudden hurt and latches on.

Digging deeper, he flashes every humiliating memory of yours—failed training sessions, missions where you froze and fucked up. "You’re a placeholder," he hisses, "a charity case. And the worst part? You know it." 

The shame burns so deep you can’t breathe, can’t think, and as you begin to find your voice to tell him that you didn’t care and he’d had misjudged your reaction the Void delivers a final blow.

His face flickers to look like Bob "You really thought I could ever want you?" It’s so cruel and something within you is so caught off guard at the sight of Bob that you believe him. The Void’s glee is palpable.

A voice cuts through the dark.

“Enough”

Bob.

Your Bob.

He stands at the edge of the nightmare, his eyes are blown open and wild, his hands clenched like he’s holding up the weight of this world

The midnight world suddenly splinters.

You wake up and the room is shaking, no wait, the room isnt shaking its you.

Bob’s crouched in front of you, his face concerned and he cradles your head in his arms “I didn’t—I didn’t mean for that to happen. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry”

Your pain and fear is so strong you feel like you could collapse and melt in to the floor, or anywhere that wasn’t here. You want to run away and scream, call out to everyone to take you away and lock you up somewhere that it couldn’t find you.

But you don’t dwell on those feelings, you know Bob, he must be devestated that he pulled you into the Void.

Your tone is soft as you push youself up “Hey, hey look at me. It wasn’t your fault, how were you supposed to know the big guy would come out so quickly”

“But I let him hurt you-”

You stop him “Don’t, don’t say anything. Look we need to take you to the med bay now j-just don’t say anything please, just don’t”

Bob stares at you—hurt, guilty, devastated—but he doesn’t protest.

You both hobble down to the med bay in silence and you cant help but wonder if he remembered what you both had been speaking about before or your hidden shame.

You really hope he hadn’t.

You’d called Yelena down on your way, telling her the other guy had come out to play for a bit and Bob was shaken up. She’d raced down as quickly as she could and relieve you of your duty.

Outside of the room you speak to her while balancing the entire weight of your body to the small woman.

“You ok?” she strokes your hair as you tremble.

“Yeah I just, I need sleep” she doesn’t press you for answers and you’re grateful. One small kiss to her head and you decide you’re ready to leave.

You glance back at Bob through the door, he’s already looking at you, pensive. You smile reassuringly and can visibly see his shoulders slump down in relief.

You leave but not after throwing another gummy smile and a thumbs up at the man.

Themorning comes too soon, you’re still shaken from the events of the night, but that doesn’t mean you can just shirk your responsibilities. You’re packed and out the door before the sun fully rises, meeting John and Alexei downstairs. They don’t ask why your hands won’t stop shaking or why your eyes are so bloodshot.

As the engines hum to life, you glance back at the Tower one last time.

Project Get Over Bob was a complete bust.

Hey guys, hope that this chapter has you guy’s as excited as I am to continue on to the final part of this fic! Sorry for not adding a taglist to this fic but there were a lot of replies and I didn’t think I could get through them!

If you have any tips for fic writing pls follow me I’m always looking to improve.

I hope the writing style isn’t too different, I’m still trying to find my style and footing when it comes to this stuff!

The next chapter will be filled with plenty of comfort and maybe something a bit cheekier if you catch my drift!

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We are the Pride Knights, and this is our battle cry No enemy can shake us, as hard as they can try There’s a fire in our eyes that no hatred can kill A passion in our hearts that’s as strong as our will To our fellow queers who fight their battles on their own We promise to fight with you, you are never alone To our fellow queers who have fallen with the pain We thank you for your courage, your fight is not in vain We are defenders of the right to be proud of who you are To love who you love and to accept every scar We are your knights, protectors of our pride Together we stand, together we ride

HAPPY PRIDE EVERYONE! These are back for a limited time only(!) The Pride Knights Playing Cards are now available for pre-order in my store until June 30, 2024! Shipping to the UK, US, EU, Australia, New Zealand, and Canada!

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SEBASTIAN STAN MET GALA 2024

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ARMY OF DARKNESS (1992)

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Let's start at the beginning... - .1

pairings: (Eventual) Bucky Barnes x Original Character

TW: mentions death, violence, angst, controlling behaviour.

🔅angst/fluff, first meetings🔅

Description: A young Birdie has her world stolen from underneath her and ghost in the night stands guard till sunset.

Dear Diary,

Let's start from the beginning shall we?

Do you wanna hear the gut wrenching tail of how my top notch upstate New York lawyer of a mother abandoned me to my father. The Playboy of playboys. Or how about how she came back into our lives only to abandon us once more after the birth of my baby brother?

Perhaps we'll skip that for another time I mean seriously who in their right mind wants that kind of trauma.

Not me that's for sure but hey ho there are people worse off than me, that's what my Tia Diana likes to say whenever one of us complains about something. She's the live in Nanny, she's been with us since I was born cause Dad wasn't one for babies dunno why he kept us really I have my theories that it would be too scandalous of a thing for Obadiah Stane to let my dad get away with.

This is stupid. Why did I let Doctor Donovan talk me into this. Not that it's your fault. She's the one who told me that perhaps talking (writing) to someone or something would help me to not burnout and get a better grasp over myself.

Let's give this another go...

-

Dear Diary,

my name is Elizabeth Maria Stark. But everyone calls me Birdie. Tia Diana says it was my first word. I do like birds, I have a small mosaic of feathers that I'd made in class from all the places I've traveled to. It's my favourite thing that I made in art class, that and the ceramic infinity vase that I made for Pepper's Birthday last year.

My birthday is August 3rd 1993, making me fourteen years two months and six days old as of right now. I'm a Senior in high school, Obadiah kicked up a fit when my first report cards in primary school came in and I was doing far too well to be stuck in such a low level learning environment,so instead I got bumped up a couple classes. Yay me i guess.

Being a senior is great I guess. I'm like the most unpopular kid in my year, I mean seriously what seventeen year old wants to be shown up by a fourteen year old. So yeah being in senior year is amazing.

I told Tia Diana that the others like to push me about whenever essays are due, mostly the older girls corner me and try to get me to do their essays for them. She says that just normal and unfortunately I was gifted with a very beautiful mind. Her words not mine.

I think the only positive to my brain is that it makes Toby wanna grow up to be like me. He likes to do show and tell of all the things I do with him whenever Dad's busy and ignores our existences. But I always feel prideful whenever Toby brings home something from Preschool or Kindergarten and it's a picture of me or when he'd started learning how to write names he'd try to write mine.

Toby is the coolest kid ever. But don't tell him I said that I've gotta keep that disinterested older sibling vibe you know?

He's a little rugrat and I'd be lonely as hell in this big house without him. I mean I'd have Jarvis and Happy but you know Toby is my baby brother, it's ride or die for us two the two Stark kids destined for greatness.

Jarvis says I should go to sleep. It's nearly two in the morning and I have school in a few hours, I guess this is me signing off for the night. I'll tell you more stories later seeing as you and I are now gonna be best of friends.

This is Birdie Stark signing off for the night.

——————

It's going great. I thought staring at the screen in front of me.

Fury had ordered me to be dragged out of class. Coulson was in the car that come to pick me up, greeting me as an old friend but I would be honest I'd never met the guy before.

"Miss Stark if you would be so kind as to focus" the one eyed man sent me a look making me shrug a little before looking back down at what it was they were showing, "so what your saying is for the past fifteen years you've been watching me?" I tilted my head a little wondering what it was that made me special. Like I get the whole being Tony Stark illegitimate child but like come on now, that's why everyone at school wanted me, doesn't explain why these people wanted me. "Because you are exhibiting skills that would put some of my best agents to shame.. and it's skills like those that catch our attention" Fury seemed frustrated which I get I was a smartass when it came to talking to adults, the only decent figures in my life were my godfather, uncle Rhodey and my Tia Diana, our nanny.

Looking through the list of things they had on me it showed all my after school hobbies and clubs along with my academic achievements. It was no secret I was held to higher expectations than most, a lot of it from Obadiah Stane who seemed to insert himself in anything to do with my life rather than allowing it to distract my dad. It had noted down about my ballet and the catch wrestling and mixed martial arts as well as being captain of my schools debate club and winning three national championships in a row.

"So. it's a scary world out there wanna be prepared" I glanced at Coulson who was skimming through a file in front of him, "what the director is attempting to say is that we would like to recruit you". I was silent for a moment wondering how to respond, it would be a slap in the face for Obediah who always spoke of these big plans of basically sticking me and little Toby behind a desk once we graduated College. I wanted to go into politics to make a difference, he wanted me and my baby brother stuck at SI for the rest of our lives under his control.

"What about College, I've just started getting responses back about them" I tell them as both adults looked at me in surprise for a moment, "bit young for college?" Coulson spoke up as Fury simply tilted his head watching me as I shrugged, "I'm fifteen in a few months, I wanna get a head start in life sue me... besides the sooner I can get out from where I am the better" I say as Fury leans forward in his seat. "Pick a school, you can do both" he said as I had a stare off with him, "Harvard... they got the best political science department of all the Ivy leagues... one of their lecturers came to an event my dad hosted last christmas one of the most interesting conversations i've had with an adult ever" I watch as he glances to Coulson before smiling. "You know what kid I've got high hopes for you... welcome to shield Agent Stark" and with that I was a Shield agent.

—————

Dear diary.

scratch out the plans for revamping the CIA, we're in with the big leagues now. School was great, got an A in my midterm paper on the prohibition period in Western States, got to listen to my teacher go on about his father's time in the army during the second world war. Apparently he got to meet Captain America whilst over seas. which is cool I guess, Dad always said we were held to the legend of Steve Rogers by my grandfather, how no one will ever be as perfect as Steve Rogers.

Anyway's History was the only class I got through, I was called out of class by an Agent Coulson from Shield. Apparently my grandfather was a founder of Shield alongside my great aunt Peggy. Just another secret to add to the pile of things my grandfather did that we didn't know about.

But that's not the point. Point is they've recruited me. Me of all people. The local overachiever with parent issues and a habit for picking up things quickly.

So yeah Fury and I hashed out an agreement, I'd train and work alongside Shield during the summers till I finish College and then I'll basically be Shields personal political figure that isn't the secretary of defence.

Finally my way out from under Obadiah.

note to self - remember debate club captaincy meeting next week, grab notes off of Hailey and Griffin.

—————

Toby was perched on Dad's work bench, the five year old had zero concept of time so more often than not woke me up so we could go work with dad in down in the workshop. Jarvis, the ever loyal companion he was would always let me know if our dad was actually up or not before we'd arrive.

"Pass me the flathead" Dad held a hand out for Toby to place one of the screwdrivers Dad had placed beside him, I couldn't help but smile as I watched them from my perch. Dad was going away for the week so Toby had especially wanted to be up early before he left, Toby adored Dad but then again Dads the only parent he knew, Harriet came back into mine and Dads life for a year before up and leaving Baby Toby in her wake. Not that either of us would complain, where dad had been distant with me growing up he was attempting to make some sort of an appearance in Toby's childhood. It hurt seeing them sometimes but he was improving in some areas as a parents He had yet to miss a birthday or parent teacher conference so he was getting there in some sense, most of the time though we spent our collective moments as a family here in the workshop.

Toby clapped at Pepper as she came in scolding Dad, another adult in our lives that Toby adored other than our dad was Pepper. The woman was a saint probably one of the few people to be able to get our father to do anything, she was always making sure dad had at least one day during the weekend to spend with us, making sure he didn't miss out on important updates from the schools, not that Dad got a lot of input when it comes to our schooling that was more Obadiah who didn't understand the meaning of keeping one's nose out of things. "Birdie make sure your father gets out of here on time for his flight.. Happy will be coming by to pick him up" the redhead smiled at me before swooping down to collect Toby into her arms gaining a multitude of laughter from the boy. "Come along Stark Junior Diana is here to get you ready for Henry's party" she smiled walking out with the five year old on her hip waving good bye to me and calling back to Dad to remind him of his flight once more before both disappeared.

Silence fell over us as I sighed getting from my spot watching dad tidy some of his tools away, "send my love to Uncle Rhodey yeah" I say stepping forward to be closer as Dad chuckled glancing at me, "sure you don't wanna come with really good learning experience?" he offered but I only shook my head knowing we'd had this conversation before. "I've got too much going on here Dad.. we've got Mock SAT's coming up I've gotta get on top of those besides wouldn't be fair on Toby if I also disappeared" I mumbled seeing his expression fall a little before he smiled once more, "I'm proud of you kid.. I know I don't say it enough but I am" he reached out looping an arm round my shoulder bringing me closer before kissing the top of my head. "Thanks Dad" Smiling I pull away before calling out to Jarvis, "Jarvis make sure the old man doesn't miss his flight" I say turning to leave, "stay safe and don't be late for Movie night, you promised us you'd show us Back to the Future" making my way out of the workshop it wasn't hard to miss the sound of my dads laughter.

Going about the days following was weird. It was a weekend so I hung out with Toby in the living room, Tia Diana bumbling about in the background making sure everything was sorted for us whilst dad was away. Jarvis was being brilliant in entertaining Toby by playing Simon says and name as many animals starting with the letter 'c', I chuckled lightly watching on ignoring the homework I had in front of me. By the second Day of Dad being away everything felt off, Tia Diana said it was nothing to worry about stating that I was simply stressed over school work and my extracurricular activities, Jarvis offered up the response of Dad missing out on calling us the night before letting us know he'd landed safe.

"I'm telling you Birdie you have to stop stressing I promise everything is alright" the older woman attempted to reassure. I wanted to believe her, wanted to believe Happy, who came by to bring my new lacrosse stick to me, the old one had broken after I'd been messing about with DUM-EE. "Seriously Kid you're dads probably just partying with investors, Rhodes is with him so he'll probably kick him into gear about calling you kids" the older man clapped me on the shoulder as we went out into the yard, Tia Diana was watching Toby swim whilst Happy promised to help me practice my throws for next weeks playoffs. "I just miss him is all... I promise I'll stop worrying" I mumble as Happy sends me a sad smile, "he'll appreciate you worrying means you haven't become such a moody trouble maker" he laughed before chucking the ball at me, "I'm a teenager, being moody is my specialty" I shrug with a grin before throwing the ball back at him. The afternoon was spent like that Tia Diana and Happy distracting Toby and I from the fact we still hadn't heard from Dad, we went through the motions of getting ready for bed and everything. Jarvis was reciting the digits of Pi as a way of distracting Toby as I tried to get him into the bath, Tia Diana had had to leave early to go to her own kids. "I'll be back before breakfast are you sure you'll be alright?" the older woman worried as I shook my head, "go sort your own family out first Tia Diana they're more important we'll be fine we've got Jarvis don't we big man" I say glancing to the the ceiling as the AI responded with reassurance, giving me one last look Tia Diana pulled me in for a final hug. "Sleep well Birdie" pressing a kiss to my temple before leaving me in charge of the house for the night.

"Tobias for the last time, either you let me finish washing your hair or I'll tell Jarvis to not do the constellation story tonight" I huffed seeing the boy huff splashing one last time before grumbling to himself as I went back to trying to put suds into his hair. Bath time was difficult, both Toby and I related in the fact that we may adore swimming but bath time was not enjoyable, listening to the toddler enact some adventure with his frog and scuba diver, I grabbed the conditioner comb to run through the mane or hair the boy seemed adamant to keep as a rats nest. Curly hair was a curse he'd gotten from our Ma, I was lucky to have dads soft waves that curled when damp, a huff and growl was all I got from Toby as I combed the conditioner through his hair as gently as I could. "Henry says Mama's are meant to to look after kids not nannie's and sissy's" the boy mumbled playing with the bubbles I'd added as an attempt to sooth the grouchy attitude he got after bath time, I paused for a second after finally reaching the top of his head with the comb, remembering the comments kids use to make to me whenever Tia Diana would come and get me from school instead of Happy who everyone was convinced was my dad. It was harsh having to understand why everyone else had mums or stepmoms and I only had Tia Diana, when Harriet came back I thought things might get better that she didn't abandon me but really she was just bored and in between husbands, probably thought she could get dad to marry her this time round but dad wasn't the kind of person to get married, he'd done the whole kids thing now he just seemed to live life one one night stand to the next.

"Well Henry doesn't know what's he's talking about besides I'm a great sissy aren't I?" I say as he tilts his head back to look at me with a trembling look, "why don't I have a mama?" oh no it was one of those nights. Toby was a sponge for anything, would ask you to explain the reason of life to him before the sun had even risen, he enjoyed numbers and thinking games rather than cartoons, not that I didn't get him to watch cartoons with me, it was a pass time that we'd all pile onto the coach and just spend half a morning watching cartoons with Dad. "Cause we haven't found anyone good enough to be our mama..." I say not realising I'd started talking before wet arms reached out to try and hug me, "no need a mama I have my sissy" Toby mumbled burying his soap soaked head into my neck and for once I didn't care my clothes were getting wet as I hugged my baby brother closer to me. "I love you Toby don't ever forget that" I say feeling my throat tighten at the little ones words.

Bed time after that went smoothly. Toby seemed stuck to my side wanting to sleep in my room, nearly crying when I'd walked out the room to go get changed. "Jarvis start telling story of the constellations again.. i'm just gonna get changed" I ask the AI softly pressing a kiss to Toby's head before leaving to get changed finally feeling the days activities wearing down on me. Listening to the story of the Big Dipper and the different zodiac constellations I fell asleep thinking that things would be okay.

And then we were told that Dad had been kidnapped.

Obadiah took charge of the whole situation, taking up guardianship of both Tobias and I. Guardianship that meant leaving both Tobias and I alone in the mansion on lockdown with only Jarvis and Happy to interact with. He fired Tia Diana stating that Tobias was too old for a Nanny and that anything he may need emotionally I could provide for him. I was furious, crying heavily as Tia Diana said her goodbyes to us, telling us how much she loved us and how it had been a privilege to have been apart of our lives for so long, Toby was beside himself chasing after her car as she left, in less than a week we'd not only lost our father but also the woman who had stepped in taking care of us and loving us so unconditionally.

I was distraught, no matter the distance between us I still loved my dad and I still needed him. Everything seemed to be falling out from under my feet, Obadiah had organised for us to be home schooled, making sure to keep both Tobias and I out of the public eye as much as possible. Hell I'd practically prayed for Harriet to come back and take us with her to New York. To live with her and which ever number husband she was on.

Coulson tried reaching out to me, I said I was under new guardianship and that circumstances had changed. He simply acknowledged what was going on, offering his condolences and that the offer for shield still remained when things were sorted out if I was still wanting it. I wanted to say yes, every part of me said yes but to yes would mean to leave Toby alone and I couldn't do that, too many people had already abandoned us I couldn't do that to him. "I'll think about it.. thank you though" I murmured ending the call focusing back in on Toby who was going through reading time with Jarvis.

—————

Dear diary

Someone came to try and kill me last night. They'd disabled Jarvis and all power to the house and tried to strangle me.

I don't know much about the man who saved me, I saw he had a mask, long hair and a metal arm.

He spoke Russian and English.

He's scary strong.

He saved me.

—————

I was curled in the corner of my room staring at the dead body on my floor and the man standing over it. My throat and chest ached as if acid had been poured down my airways. He seemed to be staring at me before moving forward reaching for me, I squeaked shocked for a moment before being lifted into his arms. I wanted to fight but my limbs wouldn't move neither would my mouth in an effort to scream, maybe he was kidnapping me? oh god what if Obadiah had pissed off someone and now I was paying for it.

Slowly carrying me into one of the guest rooms he placed me on the bed, "оставаться" he muttered before leaving I stayed put going over what had happened my eyes slowly filling with tears at the thought I'd nearly died. Quietly I started crying clutching at my chest as the fear of what had happened came over me. Some time later then man reappeared kneeling in front of me, watching me for a moment before reaching for the hand that was near clawing at my throat, taking it gently in the hand that was flesh. "You're safe now" he murmured softly, giving my hand a squeeze before letting go and moving away. "Don't go please" I didn't recognise my own voice, he came back slowly as I reached out wanting comfort so badly, I hadn't had a hug from anyone but Toby since Pepper came by to check on us a week ago. Holding onto the man who saved me, I cried half scared out of my mind confused as to why and how someone would try and kill me, he was stiff unsure as to what to do but left me to hold onto him. Toby. Oh god Toby. "My brother... oh my god Toby I need too-" the stranger was already up and out the room, I sobbed the fear that my baby brother could be dead that they would have gone out of their way to kill a child was gut wrenching.

As quickly as he left the stranger was back with a blue and green bundle in his arms, tuffs of dark hair sticking out as he approached me with Toby asleep against him. Gasping I reached out letting the stranger slip my brother into my arms, hiccuping slightly I pressed kisses to the crown of his head. "Thank you... Thank you..." I whimpered cradling Toby as close as I could to my chest. The toddler huffed at me disturbing his slumber but didn't seem to wake, I didn't care looking over him he seemed unharmed and simply lost in dreamland, burying my nose in his hair I took a deep breath trying to take in his smell.

Mystery man simply stood at attention his eyes scouting around the room, glancing to him I tried to see if I could make out anything distinctive about him other than the metal arm and mask. "Sleep. I will check the house" was the only thing to come out of his mouth before he disappeared from the room leaving me to the silence of Toby's soft snores. I didn't go back sleep simply tucked my brother into my side and held him there, I spent the rest of the night staring out of the window waiting for the sun to rise. He came back to the room once more standing in the doorway for a moment looking in on us before vanishing once more.

When the sun finally rose from the edge of the ocean Jarvis turned back on. Apologise reverberated from the AI to which I waved him off, "it's okay Jarvis... both Toby and I are okay..." I tell him as I go about sorting out Toby who had woken up in confusion as to why he was in a different room, I simply told him Jarvis had a power cut and I didn't want him to wake up alone with out his nightlights. After checking the house throughout the day nothing seemed disturbed except for the singular blood drop on the floor leading to the back door, stepping out I walked to the edge of the cliff looking out over the sea, feeling the waves shower droplets of salt water into the air being blown through my hair. I stared out waiting wondering if the stranger was still around if we'd once again been left on our own in such a big house. I was right to wait as I felt a presence at my side, the sun was already setting and I could hear the sounds of Jarvis playing Bill Nye the science guy for Toby. I stayed in silence waiting for the presence to make a move instead he simply stood waiting just as patiently, watching my every move as a hollering laugh rung out in the air from the house causing him to flinch ever so slightly.

"It's just Bill Nye.. Toby likes watching it after dinner" I murmur my gaze falling to the shadowy figure, glinting metal catching the last rays of sun. "Thank you... I don't know if you've come back to like kill me or something but thank you for not hurting Toby... he's a bright kid and he's got so much to give to the world" the words felt like lead in my mouth, every scenario was playing in my head each one as bad as the thought before but all of them ended with me dead and Toby alone in the world. "My mission is to protect not kill" his voice wasn't covered by the sound of his mask as he spoke startling me out of my head, swivelling my head at a dangerous speed I stared at the man long hair curtaining his face from me. "Why?" I shouldn't spoke but it had been the question on my mind all day, why had I been picked to die. "You're important... you're needed" It seemed as if he was struggling to think of an answer making me even more anxious at the thought that out there people where making decisions that resulted in life and death, "I'm not... trust me I'm not. I'm just a kid stuck in a world full of people who control my life with no way out" I say tears pricking my eyes at the thought of being trapped once again under Obadiah, I was met with silence before the feeling of a knuckle brushing against my cheek, closing my eyes I allowed the feeling of someone actually caring even if it was just for a moment.

Pressing into the touch, I didn't dare open my eyes. Parts of me were screaming at how I was being, this man had killed someone in front of me, yes he killed the person who tried to kill me but that still didn't make him any less dangerous and yet couldn't seem to find it in me to care.

As gently as his touch appeared it vanished being replaced by the sounds of movement, "the boy is calling for you- you should go back inside.. I will watch the house tonight" and then he left as I stood there fluttering my eyes as the figure of his back walking away.

I did as was told and went back inside getting Toby ready and tucked into bed. "Birdie who's the ghost man?" he asked sleepily as I held my breath for a moment before glancing to the window that looked out to the backyard, the ghostly figure danced across in the moonlight. "Someone who's keeping us safe... you can't talk about him Toby not anyone- not to Happy or Jarvis or or- anyone do you understand" I say watching the boy nod before burying his head in his pillow, "night sissy.. night ghosty" he voice puttered out as he fell asleep leaving me alone to my thoughts.

I didn't sleep in my room instead taking the sofa so I could see out the windows properly. When my eyes felt like they might close I swore I saw the shape of the mystery ghost man, but fear wasn't the thought on my mind as I descended into the realm of sleep.

[wutheringheightstillpendalhill]

Charlie rehearsing for a fight scene in Born Again

It feels weird to hear a British accent coming out of him while wearing the Daredevil suit 😂

[wutheringheightstillpendalhill]

the brie

buttercup, chapter two

a/n: i was originally gonna go into more detail and dive into and actually write the traumatic moments, but i decided to go a little bit more easy on myself, just focus mostly on the healing part and regaining the good.

summary: “well, we’re going out to our usual watering hole, or it’s not just us, Karen, who works with us, is also tagging along. Would you wanna join? Might be fun… might tear the city up, dance all night and watch the sunrise or whatever kids do these days.”

warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, wingman foggy, reference to croissant theft, alcohol consumption, drunk munching on cheese, kissing, crying, retelling of trauma (if it gets too much for you, then please feel free to just skip the last part of this chapter)

word count: 4978

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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Scooping one divided lump of dough closer with the bench scraper in your grasp, you put it down before first folding the bottom of the blob over itself, then the sides and then stretched the top down as well before you rolled it all up to create that much more tension in the loaf. As you plopped the soft mass into one of the nearby dusted bannetons, nippily pinching the seam and giving it a few stitches, the ingrained dance only kept on as your fingers moved on to shape the next loaf of sourdough. 

To your left, not at the central table where you worked, stood your uncle Howard, a piping bag of vanilla-flaked cream in his grasp as his rotund frame bent over rows and rows of delicate, flaky little pastries, filling the sunken centre up before he could top them off with little chunks of crimson berries. 

“Are you alright, cupcake?” you glanced up to see Walter leaning against the doorframe that led directly behind the counter, “you look like you’re about to nosedive into the dough and use it as a pillow.”

“I’m alright, just didn’t sleep much last night,” you blinked back down at your work, noting how your weary eyes stung slightly from the lack of rest, “I had a nightmare that was really, really not fun, and immediately when I woke up I started crying and shaking, like instant panic attack, so I couldn’t really fall asleep again after that,” you glanced back up at him and offered a tight-lipped smile. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“I just don’t get why it has to feel so real,” you let your hands halt their waltz as you shared, Howard too glancing over in your direction, “why my body needs to remember it so vividly when I fall asleep. It hasn’t forgotten it while I’m awake, so I don’t feel like I need the reminders… sorry…”

“Don’t apologise, it’s–…” instead of uttering the painful truth, Walter instead let a heavy sigh flow and offered, “…do you want me to make you a cup of coffee? Maybe that could be nice, just a little bit?”

“Yeah,” you exhaled, “thanks,” before clapping the worst of the flour off your hands, briefly wiping them against the chocolate brown apron that partially covered your t-shirt and jeans, and wandered around the table, shadowing Walter as he fiddled with the espresso machine, making it hum and puff, till he handed you a steaming mug that had a little heart in the frothy foam floating on the top. 

“Here you go.”

Bringing it up to your lips, you offered him a genuine smile, “thank you, Walt.”

Staying behind the counter as Walter disappeared into the back, the chime of the small bell above the door brought your attention to the pair that then strolled in. Setting down your latte and expecting it to be just any other customer, your eyes instead went wide as you saw who it was.  

“Heya, neighbour!” 

“Y/n, hi,” Matthew smiled as both he and the floppy-haired man beside him came to a stop on the other side of the stocked display case, “uh, Y/n, this is my friend Foggy Nelson,” he gestured to the friendly looking fellow, “Foggy, this is my new neighbour Y/n.”

“The pastry goddess!” Foggy exclaimed excitedly, “I bow to the.”

“Goddess?” you giggled, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks as you glanced over at Matt, secretly in hopes that he’d gotten that nickname from him, “oh, I don’t know about that. My uncle’s the one who oversees most of the pastries. He studied in Paris back in the 70’s, so in other words he’s a bit of a control freak. But, he is getting better! Slowly letting me take care of more things that I’m more than capable of doing… I’m talking a lot, aren’t I?” you sucked in a sharp breath as you noticed 

your rambling, “I’ll shut up. The point was just that he is the one who makes most of the pastries here, not me. He’s the goddess.”

“Well, I tasted one of your croissants the other day–”

“Actually,” Matt raised a hand and interrupted his friend, “you stole it.”

“I did not–”

“You came over and I turned away for two seconds and the next thing I knew you’d obliterated the entire bag.”

“That sounds more like your problem,” Foggy joked, managing to keep a straight face as Matt chuckled, “you’ve known me how many years now? You should know not to trust me with baked goods unless you mean for me to enjoy them,” turning his attention back to you, he leaned his folded arms against the tall section of the counter, “anyways, Y/n, that croissant was properly one of the best things I’ve ever tasted.”

“Really?” your face lit up with a bright grin. 

“Yes, it was so buttery and flaky and urgh!”

“Well, if you liked that, you might like today’s special…” your feet began to carry you further to the left to the very far side of the counter. 

“Oh, please do tell me,” he followed along like a magnet.

Pointing down to the pastry row on the other side of the glass, you explained, “it is this rhubarb danish that also has a little base of pastry cream at the bottom to balance out the tart compote.”

“Oh… my… god…” Foggy nearly salivated, his hypnotised gaze never straying from the treat, “you gotta be some angel sent from above.” 

Busting out a laugh, you grabbed a brown paper bag, “should I take that as confirmation?”

“Yes, please,” he nodded as you plucked one up with a set of tongs. 

“Will that be all?”

“I don’t know if it ever can be all, but slowly but surely I’ll get through your spread, and that is a promise,” Foggy accepted the bag into his waiting fingers, “but for now, yeah.”

“Matt, do you want anything?” you asked, feeling the flutter of butterflies wake up within your stomach as you returned your attention to him, “do you want me to describe the options for you?”

“No, I’ll just have the same as Foggy, as well as–, do you sell coffee?”

“Oh,” the scent wafting off your half-empty mug probably caught his attention, “yes, we do.”

“Then I’ll have a cup as well.”

“Oh, one for me too,” Foggy interjected. When you’d packed up another pastry and filled up two to-go cups, the shaggy-haired man pipped up as they were paying, “hey, what are you doing later tonight?”

“Uh, I don’t know. Properly just head home and rewatch some series for the billionth time,” you said, putting the cash they’d handed you away in the register, “why?”

“Well, we’re going out to our usual watering hole, or it’s not just us, Karen, who works with us, is also tagging along. Would you wanna join? Might be fun… might tear the city up, dance all night and watch the sunrise or whatever kids do these days.”

A laugh then rumbled within Matt’s chest, “we’re not gonna go dancing, Foggy.”

“You never know,” Foggy sang, “I’ve got moves like you wouldn’t believe!” he snuck a small sip of his steaming coffee before meeting your eye, “so, Y/n! Please tell me you’re coming?”

“…and then Karen was like what’s that? Turns out a giant piece of glass had stabbed my side,” Foggy clutched onto his drink as he told his dramatic tale, “I nearly died.”

Cutting her sip of beer short, the golden-haired woman sitting beside him at the round bar table objected, “you did not nearly die.”

“Oh yeah?” Foggy squinted light-heartedly back at Karen, “says the person who barely got a scratch. I single handily rescued both you and Mrs. C from that building and got a sick ass scar to prove it.”

Their voices faded away like grown-ups in a Saturday morning cartoon as you glanced back down at your drink and let the radiating heat of the man next to you seep into your bones. As your fingers brushed down the sides of the glass and played with the condensation, Matt suddenly reached out for his own, though in his search for the stout glass that stood ever so close to your own, his touch briefly grazed against your skin. But if that wasn’t enough to spike your heart rate, when his long fingers enveloped his short glass, the back of his hand pressed up against yours at the proximity.

You weren’t sure how long it persisted before he raised his dark drink up to his lips, but it didn’t seem like he was in a rush to let the contact fade. Your breath managed to grow ragged in the chunk of time you got to stare down at his hand, it looking so massive up against yours. Though the light in the dingy bar was low, you could still manage to make out the dizzying pattern of prominent veins that cascaded off the back of his hand like a calm rainfall rolling down a windowpane. 

For a moment there, assisted by the few drinks in your system, you let yourself dream, just for a little while, just until Foggy’s voice cut through your haze and stirred you from your fantasy. 

“… I mean, am I right? I’m right. Come on, Y/n, back me up here!”

“Huh? I’m sorry, uhm…” you blinked, in some ways feeling more drunk than you had a minute ago, “wha–what did you say?”

As Foggy then began to explain what you’d missed, Matt leaned down close to your ear and whispered, his hot breath tickling your skin and causing goosebumps to erupt. 

“You okay?”

“Mhm,” you hummed fuzzily. 

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” you glanced down and noticed how rapidly your chest was rising and falling. 

“Do you wanna go home? I can walk with you if you want,” he offered quietly. 

“Uhm…” you blinked up at him before uttering, “sure, but I don’t wanna end your night before you want to.”

“No, you’re not,” he reassured you, “I’m ready to go home myself.”

“Alright then,” you nodded before Matt turned to the others. 

“Guys, we’re gonna head home.”

“No!” Foggy boomed, “really?”

Throwing her hands up, Karen added, “but we haven’t even gone dancing yet!”

“Sorry,” Matt got up from his tall stool, “another night.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” you tugged your jacket back on, “I had a lot of fun.”

To your surprise, they both got up and hugged you in return.

“Thank you for coming!” Karen gave you a tight squeeze before Foggy took over. 

“And we’ll be seeing you for the next one, right?���

“Uh, sure,” you gave his back a light pat, “if I have time and stuff the day that it happens, then I’d love to tag along.”

Casting his glance upon the other lawyer, “bye, Matt,” Foggy then yanked him into an embrace, “I love you, you know that?”

“Yeah,” Matt chuckled, clapping his friend’s spine, “I know, buddy.”

“You love me too, right?” Foggy pulled back, though still kept his hands fast on Matt’s broad shoulders, “don’t leave me hanging, it’s bad for a man’s health.”

“Foggy, I started a firm with you. Of course, I love you,” Matt smiled back at his sloshed pal, “good night.”

“Night, night,” Foggy patted his scruffy cheek before letting him out of his gasp, though adding as you turned to exit the bar, “night, Y/n! I love you too! I just met you today, but I love you!”

Soft giggles bubbled out of you as the door slammed shut behind you. 

“So, those are your friends...” you smiled into the night, “I like them. They’re nice.”

“Yeah,” the corners of Matt’s lips turned further up till dimples bloomed, “they’re good eggs.”

As the two of you began to move along, the silence didn’t last very long at all. 

“This is really nice of you, walking me home like this,” you uttered, “I know it’s just because we’re neighbours and headed in the same direction, but–”

“It’s not.”

“What?” your eyes found him.

“It’s not because we’re neighbours. It’s just, you know, the decent thing to do.”

“Right,” you exhaled, casting your glance back down onto the sidewalk as you momentarily got your hopes up. 

“And you know how this city can be,” Matt went on, “it’s not smart for anyone to walk alone at night.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, trying to keep your tone nonchalant, “of course.”

When a street then appeared before you, slicing the path you journeyed on, and even though there wasn’t any traffic in sight, your hand still instinctively shot down to grasp Matt’s forearm before the two of you could cross.

Realising what you’d done, you quietly muttered, “sorry,” though couldn’t find the strength to withdraw your touch just yet. 

“It’s okay,” his low voice slid from his lips like silk. 

“I just didn’t want you to walk straight out into ongoing traffic...” you tore your gaze away from him and forced yourself to look at the road before you, “but there aren’t any right now, so we can cross the street…”

Guiding his palm up to the curve of your elbow, he accepted the gentle aid as you began to cross the lane. 

Once you’d reached the other side and his grasp slowly began to drift back down. When his palm reached the height of your own, you softly caught it before timidly testing, “…do you mind if we–…”

“Hold hands?” with a gentle smile, he filled in before you might wonder if he could even sense your shy touch at all.

“Yeah…”

“No,” you felt him weave his fingers with your own, “not at all.” 

His touch somehow felt even better than you’d imagined. Though surprisingly gruff, with harsh calluses all throughout, he cradled your palm with such care, like he’d held it a thousand times before, occasionally swiping his broad thumb over your knuckles, presumably just a subconscious gesture from his end that still caused shivers to trickle down your spine every time he did so. 

You wanted the latter part of your walk home to last forever, engulfed in the comfortable silence of endless possibilities. But alas, when you did reach your building’s front door and then climbed the steps all the way up to your respective apartments, you couldn’t get yourself to let go just yet. 

“Are you hungry? Because I kinda am,” you weren’t really, but anything to just stretch the night a little longer, “or maybe it’s just my subconscious taking care of me and lessening my hangover by giving me a sudden craving for cheese.”

“I don’t think I have any cheese.”

“I do,” you said maybe a bit too fast, “do you want some?”

Exhaling lowly, a soft smile twitched at his lips as he then uttered, “sure.”

As you unlocked your door, you finally let go of his hand, “make yourself at home!” you placed your keys down on the slender entry table before kicking your shoes off and peeling off your coat, hanging it up on the row of hooks, “oh, do you want me to, uh, describe the layout for you? Or just plant your down on the couch?”

“Just tell me the direction and I think I’ll be fine.”

Facing him, you haphazardly explained, “alright, the hallway goes on for a few steps and then it’s to your right–, no, wait, my right, that’s your left. It’s to your left.”

Whirling around, you delved deeper into your home till you reached the kitchen. Ripping open the fridge, you snatched up a block of half-eaten cheese before seizing a clean butter knife from the dishrack and a roll of seedy crackers from a cupboard. 

Matt was already comfortable on your sage couch as you laid the humble spread out on the coffee table and joined him. 

“I hope you like brie because that’s what I got. Unless you want a single slice of american cheese, then this is all the cheese I have to offer.”

“Brie it is then,” he relaxed into the cushions as you unwrapped the snack. 

“Here, let me make you a bite,” slicing off bits of soft cheese, you spread it both on a cracker for him and one for you. Gently picking up his hand to place his snack in his palm, you then popped your own in your mouth and nearly melted into the couch next to him, “yep… that’s the spot…” you grinned hazily out the tall windows at the night sky as you chewed, “there’s just something about eating cheese when the moon is out that’s just so right in a way I can’t describe…” 

Your murmuring conjured a light chuckle to rumble within Matt, one that swayed your gaze to train on him. Resting your head against the back of the couch, you watched as the moonlight reflected in his tinted glasses. 

When the silence stretched on, Matt eventually cocked his head, “…what?”

Not tearing your eyes off of him, you breathed, “nothing…”

“You’re quiet,” his dark brows furrowed gently, “what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you repeated, feeling almost like you were floating in a calm sea. 

“You tired? Do you want me to go so that you can go to bed?”

“No, please don’t, I–…” you reached out and grazed his arm, “could–… do you want to go?”

Letting his body relax once more, he breathed, “not particularly…”

Gazing up at him, your bottom lip snuck its way in between your teeth, “Matt…”

“Yeah?”

“You–… you’re–… I–…” your pulse pounded in your ears. 

“Mhm?”

“I really, really wanna kiss you right now…” you uttered thickly before you had the chance to chicken out. Like a wave crashing a shore, you didn’t even think as you let yourself dive in and press your lips to his. The kiss however didn’t last too long as you swiftly drew back as soon as your brain turned back on and you realised what you’d done, an apology hastily rushing out of your lungs, “Oh my god… I am so sorry.”

“Y/n,” hearing your name on his silky tongue did not help matters. 

“I didn’t mean to just–”

“Y/n,” he repeated, trying to cut through your fog. 

“We can just forget any of that ever happened, I totally get it if you don’t–”

As he brought his hands up to cradle the sides of your face, your nervous ramble fell short. When he ghosted his thumb across your cheekbone, you swore that you stopped breathing entirely. 

“…can I kiss you?” he slowly asked, leaving you utterly dazed. 

“W-what?”

Drawing in a breath, he repeated for you, “can I kiss you, Y/n?”

Blinking back at him, you hazily hummed, “mhm,” before he leaned in and brushed his lips against your own. The kiss was soft, just as your shoddy attempt had been, but it made your limbs feel like they morphed into jelly. When the pecks soon departed, you filled your lungs with a shaky breath as you gazed back at him in total awe, “holy shit…” only staying there a moment before you had to have another taste. 

Slowly growing more confident, the intoxicating kiss gradually grew more hungry. When his fingers then weaved into your hair, you realised that up till now he’d been holding himself back, gatekeeping a kiss that caused your frame to crawl into his lap, starving for more. Your little whimpers vibrated against his tongue as he danced it against yours, growing dizzy as you melted into the heart-stopping sensation. 

But suddenly a tormenting flash stabbed your being, and you abruptly tilted your lips away from his, breathlessly uttering, “wait, wait, there’s-, there’s-, uh…”

“What,” he breathed thickly, nose grazing yours before you retracted further, “are you okay?” 

“I’m…” carefully crawling off his lap, you kept going till you were a safe distance away on your own side of the couch, “Matt, there’s something I need to–, uhm, tell you…”

Staying silent, he patiently waited as you gathered up the courage needed to jump off the cliff and tell him.

Casting your gaze up to the tall and dark ceilings above, you felt your limbs begin to tremble, “okay, alright… I have no idea how to, uh, say this, so I’m just gonna do it,” and like a band-aid, you uttered, “I-, I was raped,” your eyes squeezed shut, not daring to risk glancing at his reaction, “a little over a year ago… and I haven’t–, uhm, done or tried anything with anyone since… so yeah, I just thought that was a good thing for you to know since even though I hope for there not to be any problems, I just don’t know, I don’t know what it will be like for me, if my body will suddenly freak out, but I just wanted to tell you so that in case something does happens, that you know not to automatically take it personally...” drawing in a shaky breath, you fluttered your gaze open and waited for his response, “Matt?”

“Yeah?” he answered carefully. 

“Please don’t say that I’m scaring you away right now…” you shifted your position, turning to face him once more.  

“You’re not, you’re not,” his head softly shook from side to side, “I just–… I really, really sorry.”

“Yeah…” you exhaled slowly, feeling tears sting the corners of your eyes, “me too…” staring at him a moment, you then bared your all and uttered, “I really like you, Matt,” a faint smile accompanied the declaration, “I think you might be the only guy in all of New York that I’m not scared of,” every other man you could think of had all had at least a second, a little flicker, of something that over the past year had terrified you, “and I don’t want you to think that I’m made of glass, that’s not what I want, that’s not why I’m telling you this. Please trust me when I say that I want to, I wanna do–…” a weighty exhale flowed from your lungs as your lips remembered his taste, “I wanna do everything with you… if–, if that’s something you’d like as well… but if we do, even though I really, really want to, I think it’s probably smartest to go slow, no pressure, you know, just in case, so that my body doesn’t freak out. Also, I’d really appreciate it if I at any point indicate for you to stop or even just pause a moment, that you’ll do that, that you’ll listen to me,” you briefly glanced down at your fiddling fingers, “and you know, I’m not saying let’s only do PG things, there are so, so many wonderful steps on the way that we can have fun with… I just–, I wanted to let you know now, before, so that we wouldn’t potentially have this conversation when something did happen.”

Only parting his lips when he was sure you were done, he uttered, “thank you for telling me. Are you–… are you okay? Was what happened before too much?”

“No…” you shook your head gently, “no, it wasn’t,” taking his hand in yours, you shared, “and I’m okay, I think… I mean, some days it still feels like it just happened, and others I notice something, something small, that I’ve gotten back, that I’ve regained…” absentmindedly tracing the lines of his palm with your thumb, you asked, “do you–… do you have any questions? Is there anything you wanna know?”

“No, I–… I just want you to tell me however much or little you feel comfortable with sharing.”

“…can I tell you? About it?” you asked slowly and he swiftly offered you a soft nod. Drawing in a deep breath, you began, “It, um, it was a Saturday night… I’d just gotten back from the bakery super late, maybe close to midnight… and when I was getting ready for bed, my roommate came home, he’d been out drinking as he usually spent his weekends. I remember we stayed up a while, just talking about the mundane stuff we always did. It was like any other Saturday, really. That was until I got too tired and went to go to bed, but he didn’t wanna stop talking, so he followed along into my room while I got ready and stuff,” averting your gaze, your bottom lip began to tremble, “we were just talking, it wasn’t anything special and then the next thing I knew, he was kissing me. It just–… it happened so fast… his hands were all over me… I remember he pushed me up against my closet so hard that my back was bruised the next day, and I don’t bruise that easily. He was just so wasted that I don’t think he realised or maybe even cared what he was doing. I tried to say something, tried to make him stop, but he didn’t listen to me. If he heard me, then I don’t think he understood what it was that I was saying… I would have pushed him away, slapped and hit him, but I couldn’t, I couldn’t move my body, not even a little, I just froze…” 

“I can still feel what he felt like… like my skin won’t let go of the memory…” tears rolled down your cheeks as you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to ignore how your palm tingled with recollection, “how he forced me to touch him and held his hand over mine, making it move as if he just thought I didn’t know what to do… he was my friend, you know? He wasn’t just some stranger who dragged me into an alley and held a knife to my throat. He was my friend. He would always make offhand jokes about seeing me as just a little sister and how he wasn’t attracted to you at all. Made such a big deal of it that I never thought he’d try anything… I have no idea how long it actually went on… I don’t even remember when it was that I landed on the bed, if it was before or after he–… after he–… did stuff, t-touched me… I just remember I was laying there when it happened. The masked man, the devil of hell’s kitchen, he ripped him off of me…”

“He’d somehow heard… I think maybe if I hadn’t opened the window that night to air out the room, he wouldn’t have saved me… he beat him up... knocked him out… he told me to call the police, but I couldn’t, so I instead asked my uncle to come get me… my body’s never shaked the way it did that night… I remember I was so confused because I wasn’t cold, didn’t get it till the masked man said I was in shock… it didn’t stop till the next night… when he was about to leave, I asked what if Mi–,” you couldn’t get yourself to utter Michael’s name out loud without feeling as if your whole world would crumble around you, “what if he woke up before Howard arrived, and so he just stayed there with me, right till he somehow heard my uncle walking up the stairs and then he slipped out the way he came in, right before I heard the front door unlock.” 

Letting out a long and unsteady breath, you raised a trembling palm up to wipe your cheeks. 

For a while, the silence got to encompass the space completely, your left hand still shaking in Matt’s as you eventually heard him ask. 

“Did you ever go to the police?”

“No. In the small window that I had to do one of those kits, I was just way too overwhelmed and confused and I just couldn’t think straight, I couldn’t do anything but relive that moment over and over again, so I didn’t do anything in time. But the longer time that passes and the more it sinks in what he did and the ways that I’m still paying for it, the things he ruined inside of me that I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to get back, the more I wish that I had gone to the police. But it’s too late now.”

“No, it’s not,” his fingers squeezed slightly around yours, “I could help you, I’m a lawyer after all.”

“No, Matt,” you said firmly, “it is. I don’t wanna sit there and hear them go oh, it’s your word against his, sorry, and have them think that not enough happened technically for them to take it seriously. Enough happened, trust me. I’m eternally grateful that Daredevil saved me from whatever else he could have done to me that night, but enough happened. Just because he didn’t stick it in me doesn’t mean nothing happened. That is the kind of belief that only belongs to people who think that the only sexual act that counts as sex is when a penis is in a vagina, and that is just so incredibly wrong,” an enraged laugh tumbled out of you as you fumed, “they are the kind of people who think that someone queer, disabled or just someone who isn’t into that sexual act isn’t actually having sex when they are. Sex is about connection, it’s about pleasure and there are endless amounts of things that can give a person pleasure,” clenching your jaw, you let out a heavy sigh, “I wish it could be different, I wish many things, I wish it hadn’t had happened at all, but it did, and I hope that at the very least he learned something from it, that he changed, that he wouldn’t do it again to someone else.”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[wutheringheightstillpendalhill]

Me getting up in the morning like 

Hittin’ the keyboard like

Friends comin’ online like

DID YOu SEE tHE THINGg MY GOD

[wutheringheightstillpendalhill]

anyone ever just look in a mirror and not recognise the person staring back?