#like if they straight up started making out right there i would not have been surprised

[stellamarielu]

soft

jack abbot x female reader

summary: jack gets injured on his shift and you’re there to help him get stitched up, making it impossible for him to ignore the soft side you bring out in him— especially when it makes his heart rate jump alarmingly high.

content: just a whole lot of fluff, reader is a resident on robby’s shift and jack has a capital c crush, i’m talking down astronomically bad, cursing, lots of cheesy banter between robby and jack bc i couldn’t help myself, reader is described to be upbeat and positive, very sunshine x grump coded, also the reader wears bright colors and patterns from time to time [sorry if that’s not your jam it just has to be that way for the plot, you get it], mentions of a brief altercation, mentions of blood and stitches, bad medical terminology [don’t yell at me i tried my best]

word count: 3.5k

author’s note: ok so hi this is my submission for the A DOCTOR A DAY event! but it's also a request from the lovely and talented @letsgobarbs so I thought I'd put them together and make this bad boy. thank you loops for the extraordinary idea, and thank you to my lovely babies, @clubsoft @ananonymousaffair and @letsgobarbs for putting on such an incredible little event! very very excited to see all the entires! my assigned dialogue was, “nothing defines a man like love that makes him soft.” and the color i got was green!

A reoccurring psych patient, and an elbow straight to the eye, landed Jack a seat in his own emergency department.

“I’m fine,” his voice came out with a twinge of annoyance, and a profusion of frustration as he side-eyed Robby from across the room.

But he was indeed, not fine. He was annoyed— borderline livid— at the current situation.

He should be on his way home, not sitting in an open treatment room with blood trickling down the side of his face.

It was completely unintentional, just an unstable patient throwing limbs in an effort to avoid an IV. What he thought would be his last case of the day, was now the reason for his friend making jokes at his expense, while Jack waited to get his brow sutured up so he could finally go home. 

“Yeah Okay. Whatever you wanna tell yourself.” Robby’s voice filled the room as he gathered supplies for the simple procedure.

“If Gloria found out you got a work related injury and walked out of those doors without somebody clearing you— on my shift? She’d have my neck.”

“Whatever, just make it fast.” 

All Jack could think about was how last night’s shift felt like the longest one he’d worked in a while. Taking a hit straight to the face was just the cherry on top of a dreadful night. The comfort of his bed was starting to look unbelievably far away as his presence at the hospital persisted long after it was supposed to.

“What’s the rush? You got a hot date I don’t know about?” Robby’s expression was a little too amused for Jack’s taste, as he placed a pulse oximeter on his finger.

“Yeah actually, her name is a breakfast bagel from Cal’s and 7 hours of uninterrupted sleep.” Jack stared down at the contraption sitting on his pointer finger, almost chuckling to himself at Robby’s commitment to care.

“A pulse ox? You’re really serious about this whole Gloria thing huh?”

“Yeah she’s been on my ass lately. Plus you got hit pretty hard, gotta make sure you don’t go down on us. Your risk for a heart attack is only going up with your age.” The smug curl of Robby’s lips as he pulled at the latex of his glove, made Jack instinctively roll his eyes.

Before Robby could start stitching, Dana’s voice carried into the room as she passed by the open door, “Robby, we’ve got a motorcyclist coming in. Multiple open fractures, severe blood loss with trauma to the head, and a possible pneumothorax, about 3 minutes out.” 

Robby shot Jack a knowing look as if to say, sorry buddy, duty calls.

“Oh c’mon, you’ve got this in three minutes.” Jack was desperate to get out of the hospital and on his way home. He was right, they both knew Robby was more than capable of lacing up two or three quick stitches before he was needed on the incoming trauma.

“As much as I would love to sit here and miss potentially the best case of my day to be ridiculed by you, I’m gonna have to make your fucked up eyebrow somebody else’s problem. Don’t worry, I’ll leave you in good hands.”

The sudden smirk Robby shot his way, had confusion clouding Jack’s mind. It wasn’t until the smug attending was calling out your name, that Jack understood the motive behind Robby’s words.

“Oh, you have to be kidding me.” The murmured annoyance from Jack’s lips sent Robby chuckling.

The laugh was no doubt caused by the memory of a shared confession over a couple of beers not more than three weeks ago.

Jack and Robby went out for drinks on their day off. It was a regular occurrence, but that specific night was a little different, because that night, Jack let it slip that he thought you were pretty. 

The men were sat side by side at the bar, recounting some of their best cases of the week, when Robby brought up your impressive intubation record.

Jack’s comment on your abilities had Robby stunned into a quick moment of silence.

“Pretty and she knows how to clear an airway.”

It was a subconscious declaration of affection from Jack, spoken into his glass as he took a sip of beer. 

A meek confession that Robby clung to, because he’d always noticed it— the way Jack’s stare lingered a little too long on you in those fleeting minutes when your shifts overlapped.

It was impossible for him to miss his friend’s not-so-subtle flirting when you were around. He’d been patient, waiting for Jack to bring it up first.

“Just your type.”

Robby’s words met Jack in the same way, stumbling off his lips and into his glass before taking a swig.

You were one of Robby’s residents. One of his favorites actually. A phenomenal doctor, always one step ahead of everyone else and charting your own course without having to be told what to do, it made Robby’s life a whole lot easier. What didn’t make Robby’s life easier? Watching his best friend dance around his undeniable attraction to you. He knew better than anyone that Jack had been out of the game for a while.

In fact, he hadn’t seen him show interest in anyone until you came along. Over the three months of shy smiles and round-about compliments paid to each other in passing, you and Jack's interactions had become impossible for Robby to ignore. He'd even tried bringing them up multiple times to see if Jack would admit to having a crush on you, only for him to jokingly brush it off every time.

“You could ask her out, you know?” Robby kept nursing his drink, trying to look nonchalant because the moment he put too much attention on the topic, he knew Jack would shut it down. 

“Yeah, we’re not doing this.”

And there it was, right on cue. Shut it down, and brush it off, like he did every time.

“Oh come on Jack. She’s great, you’re great, I see the way your demeanor changes when she's around.”

“Oh does it now?” Deciding to indulge in Robby’s incessant need to meddle in his lovelife, Jack fed into his friend’s accusation with raised brows and chuckle on his lips. 

“Yeah you get a little softer.”

“And, what makes you think I’m not just tired after a long night of people griping at me.”

Robby let a brief blanket of silence fall over the two of them before adding one final thought to the conversation.

“Nothing defines a man like love that makes him soft.” Robby smiled as he said it. He knew Jack would give him a hard time for saying something so introspectively cheesy, but he also knew it would resonate with him whether Jack chose to admit it or not. 

“I’m sorry?” Jack nearly choked on his IPA at the abnormally poetic words leaving Robby’s mouth. 

“Did you just pull that right out of your ass or what?” He was giving Robby a hard time, but couldn’t deny the truth hiding in the statement. 

That night he went home and lost more sleep than usual thinking about you— playing out past conversations over and over again in his mind, just to hear you say his name, or to see the captivating curve of your lips. The visions kept him up, even if it was just glimpses of you in his memory.

Robby didn't bring up Jack's comment about you after that night.

A few lingering stares and silent chuckles slipped from him when he watched the two of you interact, but he decided against bringing up that specific conversation. He knew Jack would just dismiss him, and keep to his stubborn reservations when it came to you, so he didn't push. 

This was the first time Robby took a chance, venturing into the territory of Jack’s confessed feelings. The timing was impeccable, with him needing to find someone else to do Jack’s sutures. He couldn’t pass up the opportunity to force the two of you to be alone in a room together. 

“What can I say? I like watching you squirm,” a low giggle remained on his lips as Robby aimed his words at Jack, just before you appeared in the doorway.

“Hey, what’s going on?” 

Soothing with a gentle glimmer of energy, your voice flooded the room in mellow twilight and shimmering stars, hitting Jack’s ears in a way that instantly made his face heat up.

“Dr. Abbot here, took an elbow straight to the face first thing this morning. I was gonna stitch it up, but they need me on the incoming trauma.” Robby barely looked your direction as he spoke, but Jack couldn’t take his eyes off you, only a few feet from him, watching from the doorframe.

“Think you can handle it?” Robby glanced over at you as he joked, a grin stretching across his face.

“I’ve got it covered, boss.” You matched his playful tone, and the whimsical change of your voice made Jack’s eyes divert to the ceiling because— fuck Robby for doing this to him. 

“Make sure to keep an eye on his vitals, he took a pretty hard hit.” Robby’s voice carried from down the hall as he walked out of the room, leaving you and Jack alone.

You took to the space in front of Jack. 

Your body slid so effortlessly next to him, that he had to fight not to adjust his position under the sudden nervousness of having you so close. 

Drawing a quiet breath at the feeling of your thigh resting next to his, he sat still on the edge of the cot. You were on his right side, your left leg gently pressed against him as you leaned closer toward his body to get a good look at his face.

“Damn that’s bad. Someone really had it out for you this morning, huh?” Your fingertips barely touched his temple as you examined his forehead. An audible swallow pushed down his throat at the contact.

He didn’t know what was more embarrassing, his body’s immediate response to your touch, or the fact that he’d nearly been taken out by a patient, and you were the one witnessing him in such a vulnerable position. 

“Yeah well, he had a really effective defense response. I'll give him that.”

Thank god his voice didn’t betray him. His words came out clear and concise, despite the fluttering in his chest at your body right next to his.

Then you laughed. 

He really loved your laugh. In fact, he went out of his way to make jokes just to hear it. It was soft, but rich. The kind of distinctive, infectious sound you could hear in a crowded room ten years later and know exactly who it belonged to. 

“Well, I’m sorry you had to be on the receiving end of it.”

The laughter fizzled from your voice and was replaced with genuine concern as you cleaned his brow. The gentle passes of gauze against his forehead made his mouth go dry, only because he knew it was your fingertips behind the motion.

“Somebody’s gotta take one for the team.” His response was quick as he focused on the words leaving his mouth, trying not to think about the way your hands were working so carefully to take care of him.

Your presence made him nervous enough, but your touch? He couldn’t get a handle on the distraction of your fingers on his skin, even if there was a veil of latex and gauze in between.

You bent further forward into his body, the warmth of your thigh pressing harder against his as your hands carefully angled his head where you needed it, fingertips underneath his jaw, and at his temple. He forced his stare to the floor out of fear that looking into your eyes would send him straight into cardiac arrest.

Looking down at your shoes, he memorized the pattern of your laces to keep himself from thinking about the mildly intoxicating scent radiating from your body. He’d never been this close to you before— close enough to get a whiff of something fresh and so distinctively you.

Maybe it was your shampoo, or laundry detergent? Perfume perhaps?

Shoes. Back to your shoes. It was the same pair of white sneakers you wore most days, but the green socks peeking out at your ankles made him grin. A subtle smile that he was sure you wouldn’t notice as you prepared a needle at your fingertips. 

You always wore a pop of color, something to bring your own personal style into the doldrum of the ER.

It was something he shouldn’t have noticed; the patterned shirts you sometimes wore under your scrub top, the red hair tie you left on your wrist every so often, the memorable collection of colorful socks you constantly sported with your tennis shoes…

The subtle excitement of your accessories matched the bright charisma you brought into the building every time you walked through the doors. You appeared every morning like his own personal ray of sunshine, equipped with an irresistible laugh, sweet smile, and lime green socks. 

“Are you feeling okay?” His sock induced trance was broken at the sound of your voice— abrupt and concerned.

“Yeah, I’m good.” His eyes peered up only to notice your stare fixed on the pulse ox resting on his finger.

He almost forgot about it entirely, busy with the distraction of your proximity taking over his entire being.

“Your heart rate is just really high.” 

Of course it was. 

His heart was nearly beating out of his chest from the moment Robby called out your name earlier. 

“I’m fine.” He tried to move his hand further from your view, hoping to brush it under the rug, and get a move on with the mortifying interaction. 

“Are you sure? If he hit you hard enough to break skin maybe-”

“I promise. I’m fine.” He pulled out a tone in his voice that people usually didn’t argue with. It was a deep, commanding timbre that he had perfected over the years. It came in handy when he had an especially combative patient, or in this case an extremely beautiful woman hounding him for an incredibly humiliating confession as to why he couldn’t get a grip on his bodily reaction to her presence. 

“Whatever you say, Dr. Abbot.” Finally giving up the fight, you let a spirited air back into your words. Jokingly dismissing your concern, and trading it in for weary trust as you let him convince you that he was okay despite his alarmingly high heart rate. 

“But if you go AFib on me…” 

“I won’t,” his voice still held the same robust sound as he looked you straight in the eyes.

“Just stress.” He looked at you as he spoke, and the desperation in his eyes contradicting the tone of his voice.

His stare was tender, and almost pleading while his words spread through the room, sturdy and sure. 

“Or adrenaline or something… I’ll be fine.” He didn’t look away as he continued explaining the reason for his quickening pulse. You found it slightly unnerving, and undeniably endearing as he kept his eyes fixed on yours for far too long. His words began to trail quietly, slowly losing their robust momentum. 

Jack was in a complete daze. He made the mistake of looking up into your eyes, and now he was stuck, getting lost in the all too familiar color, illuminated by the concentration in your gentle stare. He was enamored.

“Well I’ll be quick so you can get out of here.” You reached down to grab some supplies before bringing your hands back up to Jack’s face, finally starting to suture his brow. 

“Although I’m sure Robby would’ve been done by now.” Your eyes zoned in on his injury, while Jack’s stare stayed trained on your face. 

“Eh, I’m glad you’re here and not him.” His voice was amiable and subdued, dripping with a delicate sound you’d never heard from him before. 

“Why’s that?” Still watching the careful work of the needle threading at his forehead, your eyes narrowed in focus, as the question formed on your lips.

“I’d have to deal with his smartass jokes. Plus, he’s too perky in the mornings.”

“And I’m not?”

He wanted to laugh at your question. Of course you weren’t too perky in the mornings. You weren’t too anything. You were perfect. 

“I don’t mind it when you are.” Your movements paused for a split second when the words left his mouth in that same strange, fragile tone.

You could feel his eyes watching- peering up, as you tried your best to keep your attention on your hands.

He felt you stop, internally panicking that he’d said something wrong, he kept talking. 

“I just- you’re different.” The words stumbled out, losing a bit of their fragility as they tripped over each other in an effort to reassure you. 

Your brows furrowed slightly at the word and Jack was convinced he’d just dug a deeper hole to bury himself in. 

“Different?” The one word question left your lips as they struggled to withhold a smile. 

You were amused at the way Jack was fumbling over his words.

It was rare to catch him in such a flustered state. You chalked it up to the fresh wound he’d just received, and his abnormally high heart rate that he really should be paying more attention to. 

“Pleasant.” 

Then you stopped. Longer this time. It must’ve been at least 30 seconds that your fingers paused their threading, as you glanced down at the pulse ox between sutures. Sure enough his heart was racing again.

110 bpm.

You would be concerned about his inevitable descent into a questionable cardiac rhythm if it weren’t for the way his eyes were fixed on yours. His stare was so deliberate, you could feel your own pulse quickening underneath the growing heat of your skin. 

“Pleasant? How so?”

112 bpm.

“You just have this way of making everyone happy. It’s subtle. You’re always smiling and positive, but it’s never performative, it’s just who you are.”

A warmth spreads through your body at the compliment, rolling like waves as each of his words washed over you, completely enveloping you in a state of coy flattery. 

“You’re just easy to be around.” 

The heat threatened to reach your face, as he continued talking. His words were nearly a whisper with his voice floating up to you, low and smooth. 

“I like being around you.” 

115 bpm.

You open your mouth before you’ve even decided how you want to respond to Jack’s innocent confession, then unexpectedly, a voice that’s not yours fills the room.

“Still not done in here?” Robby came barreling into the room. His presence was loud and boisterous compared to the sheepish exchange taking place between you and Jack.

He stopped a few feet into the room. Seeing your body so close to Jack’s, with your hands still working at the injury on his forehead, and your eyes locked on each other, seemed to make him apprehensive about continuing into the room, like he was interrupting something.

“Jesus, let the man go home.” His chuckle echoed around you as he decided to come closer, inspecting your work. 

“That was fast. What happened to that being the best case of your day?” Jack piped up from underneath your touch. He was careful not to move his head as he aimed his question at Robby, eyes averting to the man standing next to you. 

“Yeah, it went south pretty quick.” Robby’s voice finally found a level close to silence, as he watched in concentration while you tied off the last stitch. 

“You need some help there? I could send in one of the medical students-” He joked looking over at you. He knew you were quick. The way you were taking your time, being overly methodical with Jack, was out of character for you. 

“Very funny. I’m done.” You softly glared over at Robby as you took a step back, pulling your gloves off.

“See what I mean about the smartass jokes?” Jack’s eyes were on you, still holding a lingering softness from your unfinished conversation just moments prior. 

“Oh so I leave you two alone for a few minutes and you just use it to talk bad about me?” Pretending to be offended, Robby scoffed at the notion of you two discussing his comedic timing, watching as you and Jack just stared at one another.

“Something like that.”

Your response was hidden behind a smile while you and Jack stayed submerged in a brief moment of smitten eye contact and unquestionable curiosity, before you made your way to the open door.

“I’m gonna get back out there. Try not to take anymore elbows to the face Dr. Abbot,” You joked before taking a single step into the hallway, turning your back for a split second to look at him one last time.

“and I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

With that, you were already halfway down the hall, onto the next patient.

Robby stared at Jack with a goofy smile forming on his mouth as your absence left the room silent.

“Don’t.”

The single word snapped from Jack as he brushed past Robby, leaving the room before he could be hit with his friend’s smug confrontation.

He left for the day, but not before stopping by the triage desk on his way out, purposefully walking past you just to get one last glimpse of your smile for the day.

the pitt masterlist

[cathnospam]

Ever since Deku seen you and Bakugo have sex 3 days ago that night he haven’t been able to stare at neither of you the same.

He haven’t been this jittery and defensive since he thought shoto knew about the truth of his quirk all those years ago.

Everyday during a lecture he sits a row behind you and Bakugo and all he could do is stare and noticing the small interactions you both do,

like how Bakugo lends you his pen without word, how you casually steal his water bottle to sip on, how he leans over to make an incoherent comment causing you to giggle and playfully push him,

did he whisper something sexual to you?

Deku’s mind was racing an hour a minute, he felt his freckled tan cheeks get hot when you would approach him with your doting smile to talk.

All he can see is your face when you cum from getting head.

Or when you laugh/yawn, around him his eyes target on you.

All he can hear were you moans when Bakugo slips his dick inside you. You sound so different, and cuter.

Bakugo isn’t free from Deku’s stares either, he’s a straight guy, but he is confident in his masculinity to know Bakugo is a good looking guy and he gets embarrassed seeing the vast difference between him alone with you vs in public.

Was he always like this?

The way how his eyebrows are always furrowed, even though he’s not mad.

But they’re relaxed and content when he’s laid with you, inside you.

The way how his raspy deep voice pretty much gravels when he speaks.

But it’s softer when he speaks with you.

Everything pretty much changed in his mind about you both to the point he started to add more notes about you two in his notebook.

“Y/N: Her weak spot is on her ear. She’s very clingy—-

Bakugo: Weak spot on his neck. Curses more than usual when he’s close—-“

It’s shameful, but he can’t really help himself. He swears he’ll tell you one day, but he is 95% sure Bakugo will find out and risk being the #50 ranked hero to kill him.

Especially if he found out since then he past by your door every late night to hear you both again.

Deku has been trying to avoid you since, but he’s your best friend and you have no issue figuring it out if there was something wrong with your best friend.

“Hey, Zuzu…can we talk?”

You see his eyes practically pop out of his head to your touch on his shoulder, “Y-yes! What’s up?”

You pull him to the side by the bench, “You okay? You been ignoring my text the past few days. I missed my gaming buddy.” You playfully shove his shoulder to get a chuckle out of him, but all he could do was pull out an awkward one, “You okay?”

He couldn’t tell you. Not now, he couldn’t let you know he watched you get fucked, he couldn’t tell you how turned on it made him, and he definitely could not tell you how he got off to it.

As pretty and innocent as your eyes looked right now, in the back of Deku’s mind he knew, he knew EXACTLY what you really were.

His adam’s apple bobs up and down, trying to examine your face for a moment he notices the mark on your neck, “Did you hurt yourself?”

When he points to your bruise you jump, “Dammit ‘Suki.”

“Oh, yes! I ran into a pole the other day sparring. I’m okay.”

Liar. Dirty little liar.

“Well I’m fine I just…been a little distracted.”

“Oh?” You were giggly to know the tea with your bestie, “Girl trouble?”

“What?”

“You and Ochaco. I know you both are close….having a hard time trynna ask her out?”

“N-no! Nothing like that we’re …okay . I haven’t properly asked her out even though we—-not important I was just—“

“Yo.”

For some reason Bakugo’s rugged voice made Izuku freeze in his sentence, as if the air got sucked out of his own throat.

“Here. For yesterday. Now I don’t owe you again.”

A wad of cash was placed in your hand, you jokingly fan it and smile, “well well well, looks like I’m 7,300 yen richer. Thank you.”

“Tch.” He scoffs and readjust his eyes at Deku while you put your money in your wallet, “Also, Aizawa said we have work study together, Deku. Tomorrow at 10am don’t be late and make me look bad.”

“Y-yeah. Got it.”

Bakugo noticed his cheeks blushing, it ticked him off a little seeing as he knew Deku knew about the assignment with him, and he could’ve easily zelle’d you the money back he owed you it’s just—-

He felt a little bit of jealously when he seen how close you were sitting beside Izuku.

He trusts you both completely, he knew Deku wasn’t into you and he knew you weren’t into Deku, many nights were spent between you both explaining that, and his excuse to approach you both was silly, but he couldn’t help it.

Your Blondie stared at you one last time, kind of similar to a warning glare and walked off, “He’s so silly. Anyway. What were you saying?”

“Uh….nothing actually, but maybe this weekend we can go to the arcade or something?”

“Of course, yeah totally. Just making sure you’re okay.”

After practically running off the rest of the day went by quick, he spent it in his room, pacing, writing, pacing and writing, all the way until 11pm. That’s when he heard the small patter of footsteps next door.

When Deku creaked open his door his heart began to race, there you were, in your little silk night down being pulled into Bakugo’s room. Once his door clicks his feet moved before his thoughts did and he tip toed to it, leaning his ear beside the door, he could just barely hear what you two were talking about.

“You make me jealous on purpose don’t you?”

“No, you make yourself jealous, ‘Suki, you know I only want you—-aaahh!”

Once he heard your pretty noises again he immediately ran to his room to shut the door, in a rush he quickly took down the framed posters above his bed to listen in closely against the wall, it seemed he heard you both a little more clearly now.

It wasn’t long until he began to hear your moans and whispers of Katsuki’s name, a couple comments stating he had to be up early turned into almost an hour of his headboard tapping against the wall. If he pressed his ear hard enough he was able to hear the sloshing wet paps of him fucking you.

Deku tried to imagine the position you both were in, doggy? missionary? to the side again, maybe you were on top he did hear Bakugo make a few strained noises and curses.

He felt guilty imagining it was him instead. His fist right back in his sweats like it was a few days ago, using his imagination to picture your breast bouncing inside his mouth while he suckles as you use him.

It’s wrong he knows, but everybody has their guilty pleasures though, right?

[websterss]

THE WOES OF BOWTIES AND MISSING PUZZLE PIECES — ROBERT REYNOLDS

REQUEST: reemoony asked: loveeee your writing and I hope this request reach you. Can you make Bob and y/n are liking each other but they never say it but everyone is well aware of their feelings. One day Bob having a rough day and void jumps out, creating quite a chaos. She tries to talk him through it but void being void thinking she’s a liability for them, he “consumed” her. Few moments after that he turns back into Bob & other people came back from void but not her. Angsty angsty but with happy ending please. Sorry if this complicated, just change it into what you feel right and easier.

WARNING(S): SPOILERS?? me trauma dumping on page 24 for the plot (google doc verified) ANGST AND MORE ANGST, mentions of toxic relationship, someone dies, Bob needs a hug, and a kiss, and lots of reassurance, and probably therapy, happy ending I swear!! I don’t know what I was thinking when I wrote this one, folks. I hope I hit everything, this should've been two parts lmfao. I am not responsible for your therapy bills.

WORD COUNT: 18,593 (don't kill me I was on the roll)

PAIRING: Robert Reynolds (Sentry/The Void) x fem!reader

A/N: I hope you enjoy it! :) Feedback is always welcome! I was truly second-guessing posting this. I’m starting to feel like I don’t have the writing means to handle Bob with such care like some of y'all do.😭 but here we are. This took me a week y’all, ya girls tired <3

MASTERLIST

The evening had come around the corner faster than Bob could grasp. Alexei was making last-minute calls to use their time wisely so that they might show up to the event at a cordial time. He would have if he could get his hair to cooperate with him.

"Knock. Knock." Yelena announces, tapping on Bob's ajar door. He stands in front of the floor-length mirror in the corner of his room. His black tie attire contrasts with the baggy, loose-fitting hoodie and sweats he wears around the place. The fitted tux does nothing to hide his trained physique.

Yelena exclaims with earnestness. "Wow! Look at you!" She's whistling for effect. Impressed by how well he cleaned up. "Do I smell cologne on you, sir?" Her smile grows.

He stood straight, his eyes widening in the mirror as he turned to face her. His gaze softened, taking in her all dolled up and out of her usual tactical gear. The green was different from the black she wore. He thought then and there that she should wear more colorful outfits. He nods once, dipping his chin to nuzzle his nose into the collar. He inhales deeply.

"It's the one you gifted me for my birthday…Thought I’d give it a try…Thanks…You're not so bad yourself. You...You look beautiful." He smiles sheepishly as he spares her another once-over, bashful.

Yelena grins, thoroughly pleased to hear Bob’s compliment. In the best of ways, it was pleasant to have her efforts noticed.

“Why, thank you,” She responds with genuine gratitude. She spins in place, the skirt of her emerald green dress flowing flawlessly with the motion. She sits on the edge of the bed, flopping down, grabbing one of Bob’s pillows to hold onto. “You look good in a suit, bud. Almost ready?"

"Yeah...Yeah, just need to finish up with my hair. That's all. It’s not...responding well to the hairspray you lent me, though." He pulls at a strand. Bob’s hair was relatively problematic. No order, flow, or movement that made sense to the careful eye.

Bob turns back to the mirror. Messing up his hair, parting it to the left, before parting it to the right, trying to maintain its order, but he’s made no progress, thus far.

She smirks, amused by his struggle. "Ah, the woes of getting ready. I should have given you gel; it works miracles better than that stuff. Why don’t I take a look, huh? Maybe I can offer my expertise. We do share the same hairstyle, after all." She rises from the bed, approaches him, and notes the tousled locks that stick out at various angles.

“I don’t wanna take up more of your time…”

“Nonsense.” She motions for him to come here to begin her work. "So….trying to impress anyone?"

Bob glances down at her before focusing back on himself. He tilts his head, feeling the way the suit hugs him. The jacket stops at his waist, not swallowing him whole like his hoodies, which secure him like a blanket. Everything fits justly. He feels exposed. Yelena pauses her movements, watching the uncertainty take over his frown, as though he’s weighing something significant. The tension is all in his shoulders.

"No...not really…Just–trying to make myself look the part." His response was vague, not giving away the reason for his meticulous grooming.

Yelena quirks an eyebrow. She’s perceptive. Nothing gets past her, especially when it comes to her teammates. She hums as she moves behind him, scrutinizing his hair from a new angle. "Really? Just trying to look the part?" She questions, her tone filled with skepticism. She playfully runs her fingers through his hair, testing its resistant nature. "So, you're not trying to impress a special someone? Not even the pretty lady getting ready across the hall from us?"

Bob pauses momentarily, caught off guard by her direct assumption. He turns his head towards her, a slight flush appearing on his cheeks. He can't completely mask his surprise at her astute comment.

"N-No." He shakes his head a bit too quickly.

Yelena smirks, her keen insight confirmed. She can see right through Bob's attempts at nonchalance. His sudden denial made it even more apparent that he was trying to hide his infatuation. There was no hiding behind it though. They all knew.

She steps closer to him, her gaze never wavering. "So you got all dressed up and started messing with your hair for an hour, just for the sake of looking the part?" Yelena cocks her head slightly to one side.

"Yes." He nods his head stubbornly. "Just trying to look the part..." He swallows nervously before he fixes his attention back to his appearance.

Yelena lets out a faint laugh at his repeated insistence. Her eyes narrow playfully; she ruffles spots of hair here and there. She moves over to the other side of him before continuing her touch-ups. "Y'know, Bob..." She starts, her voice low and light. "You're not a very good liar." She places a hand gently on his shoulder, leaning in slightly. “I’ve thought you better than that, sir.”

"I'm sorry…" Bob releases a sigh.

Yelena continues to fiddle with his hair from the new angle. Her touch is gentle. "S’alright… You try to hide it, she tries to hide it. You both are not very good at this thing. But we all see the way you look at each other." She speaks with a soft but knowing tone. As if she's been patiently waiting for him to acknowledge his feelings. "You see her like she’s the quiet that fills the void inside you, all the noise goes out and she’s there, bringing you that peace, and she sees you like you’re the sunrise she’s always been eager to see after she’s been living in the dark her whole life."

Bob laughs, the sound nervous, mixed in with a scoff. He's in denial. "I…I don't know what you're talking about."

Yelena chuckles at this, her smirk growing. "Oh, come on, Bob." She moves around him again, standing before him, her eyes meeting his gaze pointedly. "You think we haven't noticed how your eyes light up whenever she enters a room? She stumbles over her words when you ask her a simple question. Your gross motor skills somehow fail you when you see the tiniest hint of her smile? And she spews weird little facts that no one can make sense of." She shakes her head slightly, amused. "You're in love, as is she, and we can all see it. Last week, you fumbled a book when she spoke to you in the kitchen."

"I slipped..." Bob looked down, shrugging his shoulders, feigning indifference to your past interactions.

"You were sitting down. The book was closed."

Bob begins to teeter back and forth to try to calm himself. "Are…Are you done?" He meets her gaze through the glass. His eyes flitted up to his now messily but organized hairdo. His eyes crinkle at the sight. "It looks the same."

Yelena chuckled, her eyes gleaming. His words felt like a cover, a desperate attempt to deflect from the truth. She playfully patted his shoulder before moving closer, standing directly behind him again. She perched her chin on his shoulder. "You shouldn't fuss so much, you look great. As for your unruly hair, I only messed with it a tiny bit." Yelena pinched her fingers. "Figured some part of yourself should remain true tonight..." Yelena reached up to tousle it for show. "Also, I have it on good authority that a certain birdy has told me she likes it when it resembles a bird's nest." He doesn't miss her wink through the glass.

He still can't help but release his doubts to the widow. The way his self-esteem remains low. “I don’t feel great, Yelena. This…This isn’t me. This suit, my hair, and the nice shoes. It feels like I’m putting on a mask.”

"Bob, listen to me," She says, squeezing his shoulder. "I know it might feel weird. It is a bit weird. You're wearing a fancy suit with your hair slightly combed and shoes that aren't sneakers." She lets out a faint laugh. "But you're not hiding yourself away. Putting yourself into a box approved by Valentina." Yelena gently turns him around to face her. "You're just allowing yourself to be seen in a different light.” She squeezes his shoulder again, reassuringly. "You deserve to feel great about yourself."

"I feel good in sweatpants." 

Yelena laughs heartedly this time; she loves how adamant he can be. "We all do." She gives him a light, playful nudge. "But that's not going to fly tonight. You're going to wear the suit, you're going to go out with your friends, have a great time, all while looking good." She grins, her tone light.

"I don't feel good though..."

Yelena senses his unease. She meets his gaze again, her expression serious yet compassionate. "You are incredibly good looking, Bob. You're just not used to feeling that way, seeing yourself in that way. We've all had these moments. Hell, I've had my share," She admitted, her smile briefly fading. She quickly catches herself and tries to uplift the mood again. "It's just one party. How bad can it be?" She nudges him again, this time laying a playful punch to his chest. "Just this once, humor me. Let yourself experience something out of your normal routine." She reaches up to fix a strand playing stubborn. "Also, the little birdie has told me she loves the sight of a man in a crisp suit, too." She nudges him twice with her elbow.

"Okay." He laughs at her incredulous antics and light teasing. A beat passes before his brow furrows. "We have a bird?"

Yelena bursts into laughter at his question. "Oh my god- No." She grabs him on the arm to ground herself. Her voice filled with mirth. “Bob, no. We...We don't have a bird." She shakes her hands and head. "It's just a figure of speech. It means I have inside information. It's- Oh Bob." Yelena's shoulders slump in defeat. Bob offers a timid grin before he laughs lightly with her, finally understanding what she meant.

"Oh right...Y/n’s the bird. I-I get it now." Bob rocks back and forth with a solid nod.

Yelena playfully rolls her eyes but can't help but smile at Bob's delayed reaction. "Yes, she's the bird.”

Bob glances back at his reflection, still weighing his options. "Is it too late to change into my robe?"

Yelena chuckles at his attempt to escape the situation. “Well, you certainly can’t show up to a gala in pajamas. Sorry, buddy. No PJs tonight. You're stuck in the suit until the party's over." She grins at him, her tone playful but filled with determination. "And I'm also eighty-eight percent sure Valentina will kill you if you set foot into the venue looking like you just rolled out of bed, so the tux stays on."

“It wouldn’t be the first time…” He avoids her gaze, his cheeks still dusted with a slight tint, a mixture of embarrassment and reluctance. A bit of his inner turmoil was still cracking through the surface. "I… I should stay home tonight."

Yelena's eyes soften once more as he suggests excluding himself from the event tonight. "No, no. You're going, Bob. Don't even think about backing out now." She steps closer to him, her gaze steady and firm. "You look great! Listen to me; we want you to get out of your robes and that blue sweater you always wear. Take you out for once since you're always here at the tower. Bob, surely you wouldn't want to miss the chance to see how stunning Y/n looks in her evening gown, would you? Gorgeous." She emphasizes.

Bob falls quiet for a moment, contemplating her words. His mind drifts, picturing how you might look all dressed up. Your hair done all nice, maybe some jewelry, nothing too flashy, since you preferred decorating your fingers and ears with simplistic pieces. He can't help but wonder what color might adorn your perfect smile. Red, maybe orange, perhaps that color you told him was called mauve, with your lips lined.

I...I bet you look pretty. He thinks.

Yelena grins, her eyes glinting with satisfaction. She can see the thought of you in his mind, the vivid image of you dressed to the nines igniting a spark in his expression. She catches his brief moment of daydreaming before he catches himself, his gaze snapping away from the pillow to meet hers. 

"Bob..." Yelena's voice edges amused.

"I just..." Bob starts, then lets out a frustrated exhale. "I'm not really... I'm not the party type, you know. I always stayed indoors growing up. I never went out much. I never had this. Friends who wanted to be around me. This gala is far from my normal routine. I don’t think letting me go out so soon would be a good idea. It’s been a year. You guys said it yourself, you don't want to risk Void getting out again. You...You guys would be better off going without me. I can stay behind…I don’t mind."

She understands that he harbors doubts and fears about his place among them.

"Bob..." Yelena tilts her head, staring at him pointedly, her voice gentle yet firm. "We aren't keeping you locked up to contain 'Void'. It's not about that. Not anymore." She reaches up to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You're not a ticking time bomb, you never have been. We want you there with us. Even Y/n, alright? If it puts your mind at ease, even for just one second. She was the one who suggested we bring you along with us. Not because we feel it’s our obligation, and no one can watch you. But because we genuinely want to see you out of this place, cleaned up! We don't want to see you holed up in this tower forever, okay?"

Bob's heart skips at the mention of you wanting him there, too. He fidgets momentarily, avoiding eye contact by looking down at his shoes. The polished shine on them reminded him that he could have these things now. The privilege of owning nice things.

Nice things never last long. In his life at least.

“Okay…” His mind whirls with the never-ending feeling of being a bother and a burden. He's hesitant, torn between his desire to attend and his habitual tendency to keep to himself. He bites his lip, the urge to decline the invitation was tempting against the subtle want of not wanting to be stuck at the tower…alone. "I just..." His hands lingers over his naked collar. 

Her voice is gentle with a hint of encouragement. “You what, Bob?” She waits for him to verbalize his concerns; she’s patient.

"No...It's stupid." He brushes it off with a laugh.

"No, say it!" She encourages.

"No. I should stay home-"

"Bob, tell me." Yelena dipped her head to meet his eyes. He gives in after a moment. 

"...I don't know how to put a tie on." He laments, lamely gesturing to the fabric he had tossed on his bed moments earlier, having given up on trying to do it himself. His father was absent from teaching him how to put one one. He never did get to bond over a silly thing, such as a tie with him. The rite of passage, or whatever they call it. The transition into becoming a man, knowing how to tie one yourself.

Yelena chuckles softly at his confession, her amusement tinged with empathy. Her eyes flicker towards the abandoned tie on the bed.

"Oh, Bob..." She gently pats his shoulder this time. "Don't worry; we can sort it out, alright." She takes his hand and guides him to sit on the edge of the bed. She picks up the tie, draping it around his neck. "You know... You could have just asked me." She says gently, wrapping the tie around his neck.

"You already helped with my hair." He shakes his head.

Yelena playfully rolls her eyes at his stubbornness, carefully ensuring one end is slightly longer. This difference would account for the tie’s eventual knot later. Yelena crossed the longer end over the shorter one, then pulled it under the shorter end and through the loop around Bob's neck. She continued folding the shorter end at the widest part to create a bow shape.

"Yes, but that's no excuse. You could have asked. Nothing wrong with asking for more help." With the bow shape firmly in place, she brought the longer end directly over it. Pinching the bow shape and the longer end together, carefully threading the longer end through a loop she had opened in the back of the bow. She then pulled both ends to tighten them in place.

"See? Sorted out." She pats his chest, stepping back to look over her handiwork and adjusting the fabric until she is satisfied with how it sits at his neck.

"Thanks...I was never taught how." Bob trails off, not wanting to bring forth thoughts of his father. They were never pleasant.

She notices the hint of melancholy in his voice upon mentioning not being able to put on a tie, but she chooses to move past it, not wanting to dampen the moment. Instead, she pats his chest once more, grinning. "Don't worry, Alexei doesn’t either." She winks at him once more. 

He nods out of curiosity before he even registers what he's asking. "Does…Does Y/n know how to tie a tie?"

Yelena raises her eyebrow at his question. She tries to hide a smirk, realizing where his mind is currently at. "Hmm...You know, I'm not entirely sure. But..." She pauses, enjoying the moment. "If I had to guess, I'd bet she would. She's got an endless amount of skills hidden beneath the surface. Surely tying ties is a secret she has, wouldn’t hurt to ask her about it."

"I-I wouldn't put it past her…She's great at everything." His admiration was not lost on her.

"That she is..." Yelena smirks. “You should tell her you know. That you’re in love with her.” She nudges his foot with her heel.

He wrings his hands together, leaning onto his elbows placed on his knees. As tempting as it sounds, he wouldn't be able to gain the confidence to execute it. Confessing to you how he felt. The feelings he harbored. "No…It’s better this way. If I keep it to myself."

Yelena's expression softens at his reluctance. She sits next to him, considering his words. "Bob, listen to me. Life…it’s too short to keep something like that to yourself. I've seen you around her, the way your worries fade. That sense of security that she brings you. That you bring to her. It’s all in the risk worth taking." Yelena continues, choosing her words with care. "Don't let fear keep you from telling her how you feel. You'll never know what might happen if you don’t take that chance."

He meets her gaze. His locks falling over his eyes, hiding him. "What if I mess it all up?”

“I don’t think you could.” 

“And if I do…I don’t want to hurt Y/n.”

“Relationships get messy, Bob, it’s part of growing together. Do you think we’d be here today, as the new avengers if we continued to butt heads every time?”

“No…”

“You have nothing to lose.” Yelena encourages. “Trust me. Just be yourself. Tell her how you feel, and before it’s too late, alright.”

“I'll think about it…" Bob stands up as Alexei's voice rings out from the hall, indicating it was time to head out. With a sigh, Bob steps out of the door frame, ready to face whatever the evening has in store.

-

Bob had a completely different idea about how the night would go. Surely, there would have been busybodies intrigued by his presence and would approach him. Possibly ask him about his powers, his involvement, and what he brought to the table, but that was not the case as he continued to stand in the corner of the venue. Alone. His hands were messing with his cuff links to help pass the time. He raised his hand occasionally, sparing a timid greeting to the passersby who gave him a side eye. He wasn’t aware how much of a wallflower he was being, but he was nonetheless immune to the judgeful stares. He might've guessed that his longing gaze also made people whisper and gesture towards him. The fact that he was staring in one particular direction caught everyone’s curiosity. 

He was looking at you, mingling and laughing with people he didn’t know. He couldn’t stop staring at you since you met the group in the living room. Yelena wasn’t lying when she said you looked gorgeous.

It felt like time itself stopped and nothing else moved, nor mattered, except you. Walker didn’t fight the shit eating grin on his face when he heard Bob’s sharp intake. The kid was so far gone that he had to nudge the man after you had complimented his appearance. 

“And here I thought you were reluctant to go out with us. You look good.” Your sweet grin was making him visibly malfunction. You gave a nervous laugh, looking down as the minutes passed without him saying anything. Heat warms your cheeks. “Did I say something wrong?” Your eyes crinkle with embarrassment. 

“No, he–“

“–Oh!” Bob stumbles to the right from Walker’s nudge. “T-Thank you! You don’t look nice- No you do! You look nice…I meant to say you look nice. You’re beautiful…You look beautiful!” Bob grows flustered. “T-Thank you.” 

“Geezus.” Walker scoffed, walking away from you both. 

“You know you can take your eyes off her for a second, right? She’ll still be there, I promise.” Bucky comes up to him from his peripheral vision. Bob’s face flushed with embarrassment, having been caught. He dips his chin before he locks eyes with the soldier. “Here.” He offers a rounded glass—a golden liquid swirling in its confinement. 

“Thanks…” He carefully encircles his hand around the glass and takes a sip. A loud cough erupts from his chest, making him lean over. Bucky chuckles briefly before helping him back upright and patting his chest. 

“Scotch on the rocks. Thought you could use some liquid courage. Get some hair on your chest.” Bucky pulls away. Bob watches as the man’s eyes avert, inspecting the room. He blended in well, unlike himself. No one looks twice at Bucky. No one suspects him of anything bad. 

“F-For what?” Bob cleared his throat, trying to get over the burn. 

“You’re gonna ask her to dance.” Bucky declares.

“I’m…I’m what?” Bob whips his head to peer at him. Then, back to you, you hit a man with your hand across his chest, throwing your head back. How could he ask you to dance when you looked to have been having a swell time across the room?

“Gentlemen…What are we talking about over here?” Walker chimes over. A hand in his pocket, a rounded glass tucked into his palm, faced down. 

“I told Bob here to go ask Y/n to dance.” 

“No wait- I wasn’t-“ He protests. 

“Ha– That I want to see. Do you even know how to dance? Can you dance?”

“Well, no… I can do the Charlie Brown in the cha-cha slide though…” 

“You don’t say…” Walker closes his mouth. He shakes his head at Bob’s enthusiastic confirmation. “Maybe teach the kid a step…or two.” Walker lifts his drink to his lips. Bucky pats Bob comfortably against his back, his chin face down, embarrassed that he admitted his lack of dance skills. “Before he asks her.”

“I should’ve stayed home…” Bob muttered to himself. 

“No you shouldn’t have. You just need a wingman.”

“A wingman?” Bob’s brows crease. 

“Yeah, someone who can help you get the girl. That gives you advice on how to look good in front of her.” Bucky's words cause Bob to look down at himself.

“What more could I do to look okay? Y-Yelena already helped me do my hair and tie.” 

“This will have nothing to do with your appearance. You already got the face and the build, kid, don’t worry about that. I just meant more of teaching you how to hold yourself confidently and how you speak to a woman.” 

“But Yelena told me to just be my-“

“Forget everything Yelena has told you. Let us help you, alright.” Walker butts in. Bob wrings his hands, he wasn’t too sure about the whole ordeal. Yelena told him to take the chance, to tell you how he felt before it was too late, to be himself, because that’s who you were drawn to. Now the guys were telling him he had to work on himself, on their way to giving him tips on how to bring out his confidence, it didn’t make sense. 

“I don’t know…I wanted to do it on my own terms. N-Not right now…She’s busy.” 

“She’s networking.” 

“I don’t want to pull her away to tell her how I feel…” The idea felt selfish. He didn’t want to be the one to tamper your fun night.

“Trust me, kid. You’d be doing her a favor. She’s miserable.” Bob turns, inspecting your joyous body language. If your discontent looked like you were happy, then so was he. 

“Maybe we should wait-“

“Oh.” Walker draws their attention. Bob turns to him before looking back at you. “Trouble in paradise.” Walker quips, gesturing to the new fellow that caught their attention. Your smile disappears when you turn around to face the hand that tapped your shoulder. 

“Who’s that?” Bob glances back at the troubled expression of his teammates. He rocks back and forth on his heels. Nervously waiting to know of the man, who brought you displeasure from what he could tell. He watches you shake your head no, turning and walking away from him and the group you mingled with. An unsettling torment rumbles in his chest, when the guy grabs your upper forearm, halting your retreat. 

You quickly turn your head around; a quiet disagreement begins. A few other guests glance over at you both.

"Sadly that is Y/n's former partner. His name is Ryker Stride.” Bucky reveals the information about your ex-boyfriend that you failed to talk about. To him at least.

"I had no idea she was with someone…" Despite the fact that he didn't look like your ex, Bob couldn't help but let his wandering thoughts get the better of him. He felt insignificant compared to how Ryker held himself.

“They weren’t together for long, they hit month six before she ended things with him.” 

“Is it ‘cause he’s an asshole?” He didn’t like the way he grabbed you. You pulled your hand back, before you walked away, Turning a corner out of sight. 

“Unfortunately.” Bucky sighed. Walker watched the scene unfold, before an idea struck him. 

“Go save her.” Walker urges, noticing Ryker following after you. 

“What?”

“I didn’t stutter. Go!” Walker nudged him a few steps forward, but Bob only shakes his head. 

“I-I don’t think it's a good idea…Walker, Yelena told me to not get into trouble before she left me here. I-“

“Oh my god! It’s not like you’re gonna kill the dude, you're just gonna follow them, make sure she’s okay. And if he so much lays a hand on her, then you slightly intervene, use a bit of that strength of yours to show him you don’t mess around when it comes to her. It’s completely harmless dominance. Show how much of a gentleman you are. Trust me, she’ll be kissing you by midnight, you’ll thank me later. Promise.“ Walker steps up to him, pats him on the chest. 

“I don’t know…I think we should get Yelena. Get her opinion on this.” He reels into himself, not believing he could carry it all out. He was a gentleman, he thought so, so did Yelena and you, why would possibly getting a man’s hands off you further highlight the fact he’d never do such a thing as lay a hand on a woman. It felt risky…but was this the risk Yelena encouraged him to take things with you further?

“I think it could work.” Now Bucky, mauled it over. 

“I don’t want to hurt anyone. It’s risky…” Bob kept insisting.

“No. It’s not. You should go save her.” Walker persisted. “This is your chance and you’re seriously not gonna take it?” He scoffs. “If you’re not gonna do it, then I will. The guy’s a prick anyway.”

Bob couldn’t believe what he was hearing. First, the guys suggested he should ask you to dance, and now they want him to barge in like some knight in shining armor? Did they seriously expect him to just waltz over to you, interrupt your conversation with your ex, and play the hero? But what really caught him off guard was the fact that he actually considered it. Sure, he didn't think much of your ex when he saw his hand on you, but to intervene?

Walker and Bucky continue to implore him, emphasizing the importance of this moment. Telling him to man up. He knew this was the opportunity to act, but as usual, his nerves get a hold of him. With a hesitant look at the super soldiers, he nods once and moves with small steps in the direction he saw you go.

-

Bob felt nervous when he came to a stop around the corner. Your anger evident with every grit of your teeth. It was daunting to see you so worked up. His brows furrow as he saw Ryker hold you in the exact same position.

You wished you hadn’t walked away from the crowd. Crowds kept you safe, they granted you witnesses if something were to happen to you. Much like so. 

"Let go." You grit your teeth at the man preventing your exit.

"Let's talk about this-"

"There's nothing to talk about. I gave you your answer. I ended things with you for this exact reason. Your aggressive, abusive, and right now a real pain in my ass. If you can't be a grown-up about it, that's a personal issue. Not mine. Let go." Your voice lowers, firm in your conviction. 

“No come on, give me a chance to explain myself. I told you I was going to work on myself-”

"Ryker if you don't take your goddamn hand off me so help me-"

Bob was torn from the sidelines. He understood it wasn’t his place to interfere, but his heart began to beat faster as the conversation between you and your ex grew more heated. He clenched and unclenched his hands, taking a few steps towards the altercation. He had to say something, but he also didn’t have a clue how to approach.

"She...She said let her go." A dark, low rumble emits behind you. The rasp in Bob's voice usually sent a tingling sensation down your spine, but upon seeing how intensely he glared at your ex, and the way his shoulders curled in around himself. It did nothing but give you goosebumps. Bob's gaze settled on his hand, the one currently leaving impressions of his fingers on your skin. Your gaze stays on him as you catch a flicker of amber in his eyes. No. 

"She said, let go." Bob’s gestures with a pointed finger. A nervous laugh emits past his lips. It does nothing to ease the tension.

Ryker's hold on you tightens at Bob's words. The defiance in the man's demeanor only fueled his determination to maintain his grip. "Mind your business, freak. This doesn't concern you."

Your heart hammers as Bob’s eyes go full gold. “She said let go…”

You turn back to the stubborn fool with cogs and nuts for brains. "Ryker, let go of me now." You push against his hand, which doesn't let up at all. "Terco! Suéltame!" You curse at him. "You have a death wish. Surely, that’s the case!" You feign sudden revelation to his unrelenting grip. You shove against his chest, before looking back at Bob, exclaiming frantically. "Bob, I'm fine. Go find Yelena!"

"He's bruising you..." His gaze was unmoving from Ryker's grip. “He shouldn’t be hurting you.”

Bob steps to move closer, but your desperate attempt to keep him away from the impending situation stops him in place. His gaze flicks rapidly between Ryker’s tight hand on you and the sight of your growing distress.

"Bob, it's fine!" You curse under your breath, as you try to hide the pain you begin feeling, etching your features. "Ryker!" A disheartened chuckle slips past your lips, but it's not joyous. Bob didn't misplace your whine. "You're drunk, go home. You're making things worse-"

Ryker's grip on you persisted, his drunken state only fueling his stubbornness even more so. He ignored your attempt to diffuse the situation; a scoff left him. "The only one making things worse is this pri—" His words were slurred and then interrupted. Bob stuck a hand out before Ryker's grip lifted off of you, and then he flew towards Bob. 

Bob didn't hesitate to grip the intoxicated man's neck.

"You were saying?" Bob's raspy growl was not missed.

Ryker croaks, his airway being cut off by Bob's hand around his throat. He tries to form words, but only a strangled gasp leaves him.

"Bob..." You step closer to them. His cerulean eyes meet yours, and a speck of hope fills you, thinking he's not far from being helped. "Bob, can we talk about this?"

His grip doesn't loosen on the guy. Bob's eyes are locked onto yours for a split second before returning to Ryker, the grip on his neck more harsh than what is necessary. His demeanor had changed; his usually soft-spoken words and timidness were gone. He stands straight, shoulders squared. A subtle but commanding aura emanated from him. He was losing an eternal fight that the eye couldn't see, but you saw the signs. His lack of empathy, dissolving, a rugged exterior slamming down like a shutdown protocol. You didn't like the man who wanted to take over.

"Bob?" Your heels click softly with each approaching step. "Listen I know Ryker's a piece of shit okay. It's why I broke up with him..." You put your hands out to show him you mean no harm. "I thought I wanted him gone at one point in my life too, but contemplating about the asshole in such a way didn't feel worth it anymore." Ryker pays you a glare. "Bob, he doesn't deserve one second of your time." Bob clenches his jaw as he peers down at your darkened marks. He twitches as he tries to think through his inner turmoil.

"No, no. He shouldn't have hurt you. He put his hands on you." Bob's voice cracks. "I don't like it when people hurt you..."

"Yeah, well, people do stupid things when they're drunk. He's an idiot." You give Bob a pained smile. "I'm fine. Nothing serious." He still had Ryker in his grip. The man was turning red.

"He-He deserves it." With one final tightening of his grip, Ryker falls limp. You barely register the crack, surely his neck. The sound haunts you as the hairs on your arms rise again.

You watch as Bob releases Ryker. The man flops to the ground, unmoving. Your heart picks up as you realize what he's done. Your eyes go wide before you swallow the lump in your throat. "Bob, you...Did you-"

Bob's gaze was locked on Ryker's unconscious form, and he finally turned to look at you, noticing you had backed up. A flicker of realisation passes across his expression at your reaction and withdrawal. Bob's gaze remains steady, his eyes devoid of the softness you're used to, replaced by something else. Hatred.

"He had it coming." Bob's tone is firm, his voice still hinting at his usual timidness, but tinged with a hardened edge. "He hurt you. What gives him the right to do that to you? To anyone? I did him a favor." He nods more to himself.

"You didn't need to kill him."

Bob's gaze intensifies as he keeps your gaze, the look unyielding. The gold in his eyes is more prominent now. The tension was dense, the moment hanging in the air, thick like fog. "He deserved it." Bob's tone, confident and cold. No remorse. "He hurt you."

"Oh my god…No it wasn’t necessary.." You release a sigh.. "H-He just held my wrist."

Bob's eyes narrow. He scoffs in disbelief. "And you were wincing, were you not?" He steps closer to you, closing the distance. You never liked his gold eyes. Not when he was looming over you.

You hold your head high, trying not to let your gaze waver from his intimidation. "I'm fine. Killing shouldn't have been your first choice. It never should result in death unless the situation requires it. I could have knocked him out, Bob..."

"Maybe you're too kind." The intensity in his gaze was unbroken. "Sometimes, people like him don't understand anything but violence."

"I don't think you do either..." You wished you could have taken it back the second the words fell past your lips. "I didn't mean that-" You close your eyes. Regret hitting you.

Bob recoils at your words, flinching as though you hit him. "I think you did." His gaze sharpens, hurt and confusion flashing across his features.

"No." You insist.

The intensity in his gaze doesn't let up, even as you try to retract your statement. "No. You did mean it." His tone is stern. Grim. It cuts through the air like a knife. "You think I'm as violent as him, is that it?"

You only keep shaking your head, even as he corners you against an adjacent wall. "No. I think-"

The weight of his body is imposing, shadows slowly casting over him starting from his shoes as he corrals you into the wall. His hands find the space beside your head, trapping you in as he leans in close, his voice low and sharp. “Why shouldn't I use my full potential, especially when a damsel is distressed? I'm strong, so why wouldn't I try to help someone in need? Though I'm starting to think this damsel wasn't worth the time or energy anymore. Since she's yet to thank me. I came here to save you from that asshole.”

Your lip trembles as you reach for your gun. You act fast on impulse. Switching the safety off your weapon with precision and speed before a shot rings out. Surely someone's heard it go off.

Bob's reaction was instantaneous as pure adrenaline surged through his veins. He acted on instinct, seizing your wrist in a firm grip. He holds your gun-wielding hand steady. The weapon was aimed at a spot just past his right ear. His voice is eerily calm. “You missed.” 

Your outcry was real this time as the gun slipped out of your hand. Out of reach now. Bob held your wrist, much like Ryker had. Only this grip was severely cruel, whereas Ryker's was bruising you, Bob could easily break your wrist with slightly more pressure applied. "Y-You're hurting me-" You shove against his chest. He was unfazed by your attempts.

"And you were going to shoot me....God, why do we even keep you around?" Your eyes widen as the shadows reach up to his torso.

"'Cause I'm one of you..." You arguably strain.

He doesn't allow himself to give in to your words; he doesn't soften or falter. You press the left side of your face into the wall as he sneers and breaths heavily into your cheek. "You sure about that?" His tone was condescending. He pulls you into his chest, dragging you away before you know it.

-

A yell breaks out when you're thrown across the venue’s dance floor. Your body hits the ground roughly, sending you rolling before you stop face down into the ground. You lay there trying to gather your bearings.

He threw me! Your thoughts alert you.

"T-That hurt..." You mutter to yourself as you take note of the crowd, stepping back and away from the center. Separating a path as Bob, halfway transformed into Void, approaches with steady, slow footsteps.

"Y/n!" Yelena makes for you, but you shake your head.

"No, no, don't." You held your hand out, halting Walker and Yelena from approaching you. Your face fell when you noticed them reach for specific spots on their attire. Weapons. Hidden from wandering gazes. Had they anticipated this to happen? "Stay back!" You warn, pushing off the ground with shaken legs. Your chest rises and falls heavily, trying to push through the pain of being thrown like a rag doll.

"B-Bob stop!" You cry out, a rasp to your voice.

Bob's eyes remained fixed. Golden. The shadow within him, consuming his being. His expression was almost feral. He stops in front of you. He had no hesitation and no mercy. No, not for you. No more.

Bob watches you stumble forward with an unsettling lack of regard. Even though he had been rougher with you than he'd like, his demeanor didn't soften. He begins stepping towards you. "You're a drawback." His tone is harsh, lacking the usual warmth he holds towards you.

Your head falls into your shoulder, defeated and solemn, as Bob's demeanor doesn’t change. Black overshadows his delicate features. He is no longer the timid and awkward man you thought you knew. Now, he is Void—a twisted, broken force to be reckoned with. The two white dots for eyes stare back at you hauntingly.

No trace of warmth or familiarity in his eyes. Just a tormenting, head tilt directed at your vulnerable state. "A liability." His head tilts to the other side now.

Yelena steps closer to you. A hand was held out in front of her, ready to shove you behind her. She was all too familiar with the Void's dislike for you. He hadn't been too kind to you in your shame rooms. Giving you hell the most when the group rejoined in the attic. He hated you, hated how you made things quiet for Bob. You provided a sense of comfort and a safeguard for him to fall back on. Void wanted you gone. Now more so than ever.

"Bob?" Yelena gives it a go before she reaches for you.

Instantly, you're yanked by your wrist, slamming into his chest, forcing you to meet his menacing stare. You watch his wickened grin grace you, the white dots for his eyes reflecting the sliver of hope within him. Barely there.

"No!"

"Let her go!"

"Bob, let her go!"

"Bob, if you can hear me. Stop this!"

Multiple safety clicks are echoed all around the room. You turn briefly, locking eyes with Ava, Yelena, and Walker, directing their pistols' ends towards the shadow man. Bucky is on standby with his weapon of choice. You lock eyes with him, shaking your head. Their hesitance to shoot is noticeably painful.

"You can't be trusted." Void continues speaking slowly, calculatingly, each word falling heavy and deliberate, as the shadows consume you from your heels. "You act impulsively based on your emotions. You're a waste of time. You're only making him weaker."

The shadows wrap around your ankles, coiling around them, consuming them in darkness. You feel the shadows creep up your legs, snaking their way up your body, now to the halfway point of your waist. It didn't take a genius to know what was happening. "Then get it over with already..."

He chuckles darkly before you see your friends and various guests begin being turned into shadows. Void's gaze flickers around the room. People start to scream and flee, while others begin to try to fight back. He remains unfazed by the panic as he lifts you to his eye level, the shadows reaching your chest now. "You don't matter...you never will." You release a gasp, your eyes closing as the shadows curl over your head like a hoodie. Then your body's gone from his grasp. No shadow in sight.

-

Bob sat up, startled. His eyes snapped open, his breathing heavy and ragged as he shook his head and ran frantic fingers through his now messy curls. His heart raced in his chest. "What..." He muttered, trying to shake the remnants of the horrid nightmare from his mind.

"Bob?" He whips his head up fast, causing him a sudden dizzy spell, before he locks eyes with Yelena on the ground. He begins to register not only her disheveled state but also various other bodies, sitting up from the ground as well.

"What the hell..." Ava curses as she goes to stand. Yelena followed suit, as shadows started to disperse from each figure that had stood in the room a while ago.

"What happened here?" Bob, nervous, stood up, trying to find his bearings.

"Great, you don't remember."

Bob's confusion grows as he takes in the sight of everyone around him. He rubs his temples, trying to make sense of what's happening. "I...I don't know..." He shakes his head, feeling dazed and disoriented. "I was... dreaming, I think. It was a nightmare. But, I can't remember much."

"It's fine, Bob." Yelena waves him off.

Bob rubs his hands over his face, trying to shake off the remnants of his nightmare. The group is gathered in the venue, their surroundings in disarray. Chairs toppled, tables were knocked over, and the floor was littered with shattered glass. "What happened here?" He asks again, taking in the state of the room.

"Void." Bucky sighed.

Bob's heart sinks at the mention of Void. He knew all too well the damage and chaos the other guy brought with him. "Void did this?"

"Yeah..." Walker nods. "But from the looks of it, you only maintained it here, so I call progress." Bob was lost.

"I did? I don't remember anything. I only remember seeing Y/n talking to that Ryker guy, before everything got fuzzy again."

The mention of your name had them freezing. Yelena looked to him before her body swirled around in search of you. Yelena's eyes widen with realization. 

"Y/n... Where's Y/n?" The room falls silent as they begin to realize the absence of your presence in the venue.

"What's with the long faces?" Bob wrings his hands together, not understanding the concerned glances everyone threw his way. He turns his head like they do, eyes darting around, falling onto multiple strange faces, searching but never really finding what they looked for. "What's wrong?... Where's Y/n?" His body tenses, dread seeping in.

"What do you mean, where is she?" Yelena's heart plunges. "Bob?" She inched closer, trying to get a read on him. "D-Do you remember anything?"

"No, I told you all that I know. I saw Ryker with Y/n before everything got dark." Bob glanced over to Walker and Ava's hardened gazes. He curled in on himself. He didn't need to be a genius to know something was wrong and that he was at fault. "W-What do you mean? Where is she?"

"Alright, kid, quit messing around. Where'd she go? We all came back, so why didn't she?" Walker rolled his eyes, not in the mood for his oblivious antics. "Where is she, Bob?"

"I-I don't know where Y/n is? What did I do?" Bob frantically shrugs his shoulders.

"No." Dread fell over Yelena's face. "No, no, no." Yelena cupped her stomach.

Bob noticed Yelena's expression, confusion etched on his face, "W-What's going on? What did I do?"

The group looked at him in pity, their faces riddled with worry, fear, and confusion—all except Bucky, who remained silent and stoic. Everyone waited for Yelena to speak. Yelena's voice was shaky, her words softly spoken.

"You didn't do anything." Yelena's eyes started to water, her body trembling. "No..." She looked around the room once more. Nothing. "Okay...Okay. How do we get her back?" She highlighted.

"Get her back?" Bob shook his head.

"You're asking us?" Bucky pointed to himself. "How would we know?" He perplexes.

"I...I don't know!" Yelena's breathing grew ragged, on the verge of tears. She blew raspberries. "She can't be gone...we all came back, there's that!"

"Yeah, but she didn't." Walker voiced everyone's dread. His tone grew sharp and impatient. He pointed to Bob, "Why is that Bob? Why didn't she return like the rest of us?"

"Surely there's some reasonable explanation for this-" Ava tried leveling the situation.

Bob's expression turned somber, his eyes darting to each person searching for an answer. He stuttered, "I...I don't know why. I swear, I don't know. I...I'd never ever hurt her, I promise. I'd never hurt her." 

Yelena's voice was shaky, her words barely above a whisper. "We know you wouldn't, but she's gone. Maybe still in the Void, and we need to get her back."

"The question is how, though?" Walker queried.

Yelena shrugged, her eyes reddened and puffy. "I got nothing...." Everyone remained quiet.

Bob wrung his hands together before a suggestion conjured up in his mind. "W-What if you knock me out?"

The group froze, all turning to look at him in disbelief. 

"What?" Yelena furrowed her brows, confused by his reasoning. 

Ava chimes in, disagreeing. "That doesn't even sound plausible."

Walker let out a scoff. "Knock you out? Are you out of your mind? What good would that do for us?"

"We risk the Void escaping again!" Alexei voiced his concern. "It is a no from me!"

"Sorry, it was just an idea. I thought it could work- Sorry." Bob shakes his head, letting his head fall to the ground again. Bucky, the more level-headed of the group, weighs the idea before speaking.

"Bob..." Bucky steps forward, his gaze fixed on the distressed male. "What do you mean by that? Why do you suggest that we knock you out?"

A spark of hope ignites behind his eyes. Someone's taking a chance on his idea. Bob nods before saying, "Maybe if you guys knock me out. I could find her...in here." He peers up through his lashes at the soldier, gesturing to his temple. "It was just an idea..."

Bucky's gaze remains locked on Bob, contemplating his proposal. Yelena moves from her spot, placing her hand on Bucky's arm. "Bucky, you can't be serious."

"You got a better plan… We don't have anything to go from. It's better than nothing. It could work..." Bucky shrugs at Bob, who straightens. Bob stares at Bucky, surprised that he was on board with it. He turned to the others, waiting for their opinions.

"But how can you know for certain... that it will work?" Yelena counters.

"It's a stupid idea," Ava mutters, shaking her head.

"Alright, how hard do I have to hit him?" Walker begins removing his blazer, rolling his white dress shirt up to his elbows. 

"Woah woah woah! Let's think this through, there are other ways we can do this!" Yelena cuts in frantically.

"She's right, punching him won't phase him."

"Then how the hell are we supposed to knock him out?" Walker complained.

"You could..." Bob swallowed back a lump. "You could choke me..."

Ava whips her head over to Walker's baffled gaze. She nudges him with a shit eating grin. "Choke him!" She urges.

Bucky places his hands on his hips, and a heavy sigh leaves him. "You sure about this, Bob?"

A mixture of nervousness and determination washes over Bob's face. Bob nods, trying to seem brave. "Yeah...I'm sure. I have to try…For her. I wouldn't be able to live with myself, you know?" He lets out a faint laugh, but his smile only lasts a few seconds.

A grimace is on Yelena's face as she watches the scene begin to unfold. Bucky places a firm hand on Bob's shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “Don’t kill him, Walker. Do it quickly, just enough to make him unconscious. Got it?” 

Walker shakes his head. "I can't believe I'm doing this." He approaches Bob, hesitant about his decision. He grabs Bob’s forearm before making him turn around. His back now faces him. "Sorry in advance, kid..." Walker swallows hard before he wraps his arms around Bob’s shoulders. It's not long before his arms tighten around his neck. Bob protests, raising his hands to where Walker's hold reduces his oxygen. He knew he had to give in, for your sake, but he'd be lying if he said the whole plan was terrifying.

Bob tries to resist even as he meets Yelena's pained expression. Bucky's head turns away so as not to look, but he thinks twice before looking back, to be there as his source of comfort as he starts tapping against Walker’s arms.

"You'll be fine, kid. Just relax, alright? Don’t fight it." Bucky tries to reassure him. Bob feels the pressure build up in his head and lets out a gasp before he nods. His eyes flicker back and forth between gold and blue. His throat feels like it's being crushed, not the most pleasant thing he's experienced, but what's worse is the way Yelena is watching him. Not at all okay with this. She never liked seeing him hurt.

His eyes meet Yelena's, and her eyes are filled with dread. He manages to mouth his words with a weak smile. I’ll. Find. Her.

Bob's eyes start fluttering. His expression starts drooping as he's on the verge of passing out.

The world blurs as he starts to feel the rush; his head starts pounding. Then his surroundings turn dark. The pressure becomes too intense, and he goes limp. His body falls into Walker’s arms. Walker sighs, letting his arms unravel from his neck before he walks backwards, gently laying the man on the floor. He stays crouched next to him, hating this more than anything. “Now what?”

"We wait." Yelena chimes in solemnly. Grabbing a discarded chair, planting it before her unconscious friend, and plopping herself down on it. “And hope this work.”

-

Bob didn’t know how long he had been roaming through his shame rooms before a particular doorway appeared. The brown door, sticking out like a sore thumb from the white walls of his childhood home, his shame room, where his dad was screaming at him, asking him where he was going. He gave his father one more glance before he rushed towards it. Opening and slamming it shut behind it. But as he put his force behind the shove. The door itself caught on the doorframe. He tried again, but it wouldn’t budge, leaving behind the hope that it would close, but a thin space between the doorframe and the door prevented its enclosure. 

“It doesn’t close…The floor is sunken there.” A high-pitched voice raises the hairs on the back of his neck. He pushes himself from the door before he swivels in place. A small child greets him on the floor. 

"Y/n?" Bob inched closer to what he presumed to be your younger self. You were donning a pink and purple sweater, a sequined puppy plastered on the front of it. A few sequins turned over like you had run your hand across them. Black leggings worn out and fuzzy purple socks on your feet. A mirror of your adolescence.

Your younger self looks up as he approachs. He met her gaze before she pointed to the other end of the room. “She’s over there.” 

He swiveled around, scoping the room's entirety, until his gaze settled on his goal. His search concluded as he saw you curled underneath a desk. His shoulders slumped at the sight. Your face was dazed, staring straight ahead. Eyes barely blinking. You, too, donned the puppy sweater and leggings. Different from your dress, which you looked lovely in tonight.

You hadn't even bothered to acknowledge his presence as your younger self kept trying to build a puzzle laid out before her. An image of a snowman, in a forest surrounded by trees. A few pieces were chipped, and one, unbeknownst to him, was missing, lost, meaning you'd never fully complete it over the years of trying to, in this room.

"Y-Y/n." He reveled in saying your name out loud.

"I don't want to talk to anyone." Bob turned to look back at the child, placing another piece in its correct spot. 

Bob crouched down to be eye level with you under the desk. He held his breath, waiting for any sort of reaction. For a flash of recognition, but there was nothing. No response.

"I-I didn't mean for you to be trapped in here." His voice shook.

Bob's expression twisted into one of deep regret. He reached out to touch your knee but stopped himself, his hand hovering a few inches above as it trembled. His gaze flitted to your younger self. She seemed focused on the puzzle piece in her hand, utterly oblivious to his internal torment. The sight only intensified his agony.

"I–" He opened his mouth to reply, perhaps to reassure you, but no words were forthcoming. "C-Can I join you?" Bob fell back on his bottom and gestured gently to the center. Your younger self looked up.

"Sure." She barely peers up at him, unbothered by his request, but holds out a piece to include him all same.

Bob accepts the piece, his fingers lightly brushing against hers as he takes it. He turns it over in his grasp, examining the surface of it before looking back at the puzzle. He slides his piece into place, his movements careful but precise, ensuring a perfect fit.

"Thanks." He murmurs, his gaze drifting back to your younger self. He swallows hard, his jaw clenching as if chewing on words he couldn’t quite muster. He lets something out for now. "I've never been good at these..." Bob confesses, "Could never finish them. Sit still."

"It's okay...We've never finished this one, but we keep trying to." The child's disheartened smile makes him want to break down.

Bob nods curtly, his throat tight. The sight of your indifference nearly unravels him. He turns his attention back to the puzzle, trying to ground himself in its simple but comforting task. He picks up another piece, turns it over.

"I’m... I can't-" Bob stops short, clearing his throat as it threatened to close up. He tries again. "I can't believe I did this to you." He whispers, more to himself than anything. "I wish I had more control over my powers. I could have saved you the pain."

"We're not mad at you for it. We promise." Your younger self reassures. Handing him another piece after placing another perfect fit down.

Bob's breath hitches in his chest. Your reassurance is like a balm to his wounded soul. Hearing those simple words from you, from her, eases some of the guilt that has been consuming him. He accepts another piece from you, gently placing it into the puzzle again.

"You… You should be." He mutters, his voice barely more than a hoarse whisper. "I put you in here." His gaze flicks back to her face, taking in her innocence, how calm she remains. It's infuriating. Why are you not raging at him? Shouting? He deserves it.

"The Void put us here." You corrected him. "What's being upset over it gonna accomplish?" Your younger self hovers her hand over a certain area; uncertainty flashes behind her eyes. You're hesitant. Bob, conflicted, reaches forward and guides her small hand over to a spot he thinks it will fit. It does. "Thanks." She’s appreciative before enthusiastically grabbing another, ready to advance in the puzzle's completion.

Bob's heart clenches as you respond rationally. It's eerily shocking how mature you are for your age. The way you forgive so easily is at odds with the guilt he feels. Yet, somehow, your words have an undeniable power over him. He can feel the grip of the Void's hold on him loosen ever so slightly. He helps you slide in the next piece as it clicks into place. Your giggle warms his heart. The corners of his lips curl up at the sound.

"How can…. How can you be so calm about this?" Bob can't help but ask, his voice tinged with disbelief mixed with awe.

"I-I have to..." Your younger self falters. Her composure glitched before she blinked and continued as if nothing had happened. She avoided his gaze, looking back down at the puzzle. "We have to be. Otherwise, what comes next would be unbearable."

Bob's brow creases with concern at the glitch. A ripple in your memory, the imposed calmness that he couldn't miss, faltering. The way you had been referring to yourselves as we, never as I. He was getting somewhere. At least he hoped he was.

"What…" He hesitates, but curiosity gets the better of him. "What's coming next?"

"Ya estoy harta!" Your younger self flinches as a glass breaks in the distance. "Vete con tus pinche putas! Ya no me importa! Largarte! Largarte!"

"Ya no puedo! Ya basta. Pinche loca ya no puedo!"

Bob immediately tenses, ready to protect you and your younger self from whatever threat looms, but as the shouting continues in the distance, he recognises something familiar in the language. Spanish.

"Is... Is that...?" He whispers, knowing the answer but hoping he's wrong.

"S-Spanish." Your body convulses and twitches as the vulgar language is spoken. Feeling gross. You try to block them out, pausing your puzzle making, your hands harshly slammed against your ears. Tears form in your eyes as the screams only continue. You run over to the door, banging and kicking it. The kick makes the door widen, before you push against it. 

"Shut up!" Bob flinches as your small body screeches. "Shut up! Ya cállate!" Your outcry only intensified. Your body shaking with sobs. "Shut up! Shut up!" You turn the lock, knowing it serves no real purpose. Your bedroom door barely closed. The doorframe stopped it from entirely shutting. You've never been able to lock it, not once. You turned and walked over to a corner where a dresser sat. You go to push it until it starts sliding across the floor. Pushing with everything you had in your tiny body, until it sat in front of the door. Blocking them from entering. You didn't want them near you. You kick the wall next to it in anger. To have them hear just how upset they made you. Hoping your meltdown would cause them to stop, to see how much they’re hurting you. You go far as to grab something heavy launching it into the wall too. The bang as agressive as your parents anger. 

It's not long before you move to where you remain under the desk. Your younger self crawls underneath with you. Scooting herself next to you as your older self ticks and shivers at the language exchanged. Your younger self cups her ears and lets out an ear-piercing scream. All the while, yourself sheds a tear. It's only then that he finally gets a real reaction from you. You turn to your younger self wanting to save her the pain. You wrap an arm around her and tuck her in close to your side.

Bob is frozen in place as the scene unfolds before him. The sheer desperation in your voice is gut-wrenching; you just want it to stop. He watches with staggered breaths as your younger self curls into you. The shouting and screaming continue in the background.

He wants to move, to grab the dresser and shove it through the wall, to put an end to the shouting and the pain taking place on the other side of that door. But he remains where he is, watching yourself try to help your younger self find solace. His eyes dart to the blocked door, listening to the muffled yelling from outside. He grits his teeth, anger bubbling within him.

When he turns back to look at you both. Your younger self is nowhere to be found beside you. "Here!" His head turns to the child sitting before him again on the floor. Another puzzle piece was offered to him once again.

How long did you relive this before he got here? The memory had reset again, he realized.

Bob's hands tremble as he gradually accepts the puzzle piece. Peering down at the upright face, snow-like texture painted on the piece to help him determine where it could go. He stares at it, guilt slowly seeping into his bones as he lifts his head to watch your younger self concentrate on the image the pieces were curating.

"How...How many times has she-you-" Bob can't even fathom how long you've been sitting under your desk, to appear so numb to everything. "How long have you been in here?"

"This is loop ten." Younger you, spares him a pinched grin. It doesn't reach her eyes.

Bob's stomach churns at the revelation. Loop ten? You've had to face this same scene ten times over, stuck in an endless cycle. He wants to scream, to tear everything apart, to make it stop. But he can't. He's just a participant in this twisted nightmare. His eyes shift between the puzzle and your younger self, his guilt weighing heavily on his shoulders, but he'd be damned if he didn't try. He had to try; this was you he was talking about. You'd done so much for him; he owed you that much. To push past how scared he was of screwing things up even more.

Your younger self looks up, halting her movements. "I-I can't finish it." You finally refer to yourself in first person. You look down at the puzzle. "I just wanna finish it."

"You want to finish the puzzle?" Bob questions, his words tinged with both confusion and understanding. He glances at the puzzle, taking in the incomplete image. It's beautiful in its own way, even without all the pieces. But the thought of you stuck in this repetitive loop, trying to complete it, it's unbearable. "You... You don't have to finish it." He says softly, his hand hovering over yours, unsure if he can even change your mind within the confines of this memory.

"I want to." Hope. A small spark ignites within Bob as your younger self expresses her determination. He picks up on the subtle changes in your expressions, the way your younger self glitches and gives way to glimpses of your older self. He clings onto this as a sign of change, that he can somehow alter this loop. 

His back straightens. He looks back at you under the desk. You were still there, but a sliver of hope had him realizing you wanted to crawl from underneath there. "I... I get close, and then I never do. There's always a piece missing." The child's brows furrow with frustration. You go to place the remaining six pieces before pulling your hands into your lap.

"Missing piece?" His eyes flick back to the puzzle, taking in the image, searching for what could be amiss. Then there it is, the center spot, vacant. His gaze darts around the room. "Maybe it's somewhere else? In a drawer? Or under the bed?" He muses, his mind racing with possibilities, until the screams of your parents have him glancing at the door. He glances down at you, then at you under the desk. 

"Hey!" You peer up at him. "Just... Just focus on me. Listen to my voice…not theirs. Okay?" With labored breaths, his grin grows as he tries to reassure you from the shouting behind the door. "Where would you look first?" Your younger self gets up and heads for the door, when suddenly you appear criss-crossed before him. His eyes widened, trying to gain your attention this time. "Y/n? Hey!" He exclaims, reaching forward, touching your shoulders. "Hey. Hi, oh my god hi!" You turn back to face him after having peered over at the door.

"B-Bob?" Your voice croaks.

"Yes!" Bob lets out a sigh of relief. He can't help the small laugh that escapes his lips. "Yes, it's me. Me Bob. That's me!" He gives a firm nod, still holding onto your shoulders. He leans down to meet your gaze. "I'm so sorry. The team told me what happened and how Void got out and ruined everything. How everyone came back, but you never did. I... I should've stayed home. I knew it was a bad idea to go to that gala, but the team insisted, you insisted, on getting me out of the tower, and...I screwed everything up again. Like I always do. But I'm here. I'm here and I want to make things right. I'm gonna get you out of here." His conviction bled through.

Your eyes glisten. You looked so small compared to the confidence you carried around him and the others earlier in the evening. You flinch, glancing over your shoulder as another vulgar word reaches your ears. "D-Don't listen to them." Bob turns your chin back over to him.

Bob forces a pinched smile as your attention returns to him. He squeezes your shoulders, his fingers gently kneading into your flesh, trying to ground you. "You want to finish this puzzle…We'll finish it." He says firmly, his eyes never leaving your face.

You muster a nod before looking at the blank spot, mocking you from its completion. Bob pulls back. Your younger self begins screaming and pushing the dresser towards the door. Your eyes close as a tick rakes through you. Bob takes note of your reaction, how the side of your ear hit your shoulder blade. Your younger self finishes under the desk, before she appears beside you and Bob. The puzzle resets back to its previous state of incompleteness once again. 

Loop eleven.

He shifts his eyes down to your hands, something you twirled around mindlessly, catching his attention. His brows furrow as he reels in the object you acquired, the thing you fiddle with, it was the piece you needed to finish the puzzle.

You had it this whole time. His eyes soften.

"It seems almost selfish..." You concur.

His mouth parts as the realization dawns on him. "You..." Bob whispers, his words lost in awe. "You had it this whole time?" His gaze switches from the piece in your hand back to your face.

Your younger self's determination and stubbornness faded, replaced by the realization that you were holding onto the very thing you sought all along. He's struck by the simplicity yet irony of it all. You were so close to finishing the puzzle, but blinded by what was literally in your hands to do it. He shifts and turns to your younger self, peering up at you, expression expectant, waiting, filled with melancholy. She goes back to adding the six final pieces again. 

"This stupid piece…That I could never find. I threw the puzzle away when I couldn’t finish it. It’s so stupid…"

Bob looks at the puzzle piece, a mix of emotions roiling within him. He feels a pang of guilt, knowing how long you'd been trapped here, the endless loop of trying to finish the puzzle without realizing you possessed the very thing needed to complete it. Your younger sits back, wringing her hands together, a mirror of his timidness. It brought him a sense familiarity, something he weighed on now, that you both had something in common. He reaches out, gingerly taking your younger self's hand, before looking back at you.

"It's not stupid." He reassures you. "Sometimes… we search for things so hard we forget to look in simple places." He pauses, his gaze lingering.

Your inner turmoil was evident. You dig a hand into a side pocket of your sweater, he hadn't known was there. "It was in my pocket..." You scoff. Shaking your head. "This whole time!"

Bob watches you, the realization settling in for both your younger and older selves. Younger you then mirrors your actions, stuffing her hand in the pockets, only to pull them out and be left empty handed. It was a poignant moment. "You-" Bob can't even finish the sentence, words momentarily lost on him. It was so simple.

Bob couldn't help but let out a small chuckle, a bittersweet sound. The absurdity of the situation wasn't lost on him. You had been carrying the solution to your problem all along, hidden in your pocket. He shook his head, his expression a mix of disbelief and amazement. "I-I once lost my phone…It was in my hand the entire time." A lopsided grin took over his features. ”Though I’m pretty sure it was the meth that hindered my senses from realizing it was there the whole time...” He trails off, noting that his attempt to offer a similar experience did nothing to comfort you.

"It’s not the same…" You shake your head. 

Bob breathes a faint laugh at your pouting, the sound of it reverberating across the room, a stark contrast to the ongoing shouting and aggression outside the room. "I think...I think you'll be okay." He chides gently, trying to bring light to the situation.

“How do you know that?”

“‘Cause you guys helped me…Help me still.” He corrects

Your hesitance was not lost on him. You peer up through your eyelashes, then back down to the piece. "What if this doesn't fix anything?"

Bob pauses as he takes in your question. The weight of it hangs in the air, his earlier optimism faltering for a moment. Hearing your apprehension only solidified the concern. Bob's smile fades into a serious expression. He takes in your younger self’s small form, then to you, the way your shoulders are slumped, and the anxiety settled in your eyes. "I don't know if it will." He admits earnestly, his voice soft. "I just...I just really, really hope it does. It has to."

"Is this all it takes…To just fix it?" You twirl the piece around mindlessly. "This single piece my ticket to getting out of here?"

Bob looks at you, really looks at you. The piece of paper board between your fingers spinning in a rhythmic motion, your eyes filled with a mix of peace and anguish. He sees the way your breathing picks up and the way your eyes dart around the room. He can see how much this effects you, the battle between your logical side and the part of you that's been trapped here for who knows how long, trying to meet in the middle. Conclude a final resolution.

"I...I don't know." He replies eventually. He tries. "I...I mean, you all saved me with a hug." He laughs, its nervous but light, then lets it die out. Bob wants to reassure you, to tell you that this piece will fix everything, but he can't because he's never been great at it. You were the one always putting him back together. You always had the right thing to say and knew when to apply it in your heart to hearts. "So what's to say you can't be fixed by a puzzle piece?"

"Just like that?"

Bob nodded. "Just like that." He affirmed. He knows the simplicity of it, the absurdity, the notion of such a simple thing being the key to your liberation, could probably be seen as laughable. But he didn't see it as such, it might’ve been laughable—yes, but it wasn’t to him. Hope flared in him, a spark of optimism that the solution was so simple, so ridiculously easy. "Yeah��just like that." He repeated, his voice resolute, putting your worries and fears to rest.

"Just like that..." You shed a tear, echoing his words. You take a deep breath, hearing your parents argue once more before you reach forward and place the piece in the center. Your body convulses as you begin to sob hysterically, your younger self sighing as you finish it for once. Bob's lip trembles as he pulls you into his chest.

He holds you tightly, your body trembling against his. His grip is firm yet gentle, a silent reassurance that he's there. His heart aches as he listens to your sobs. The sobs wrack your frame as your emotions come out, a tidal wave of relief and frustration breaking through the surface after what feels like a lifetime. He rubs small circles on your back, whispering soothing words into your hair, as his own eyes glisten with unshed tears.

"I’m sorry I put you in here. I’m sorry." He whispers into your hair. "It's okay. I've got you. I-I got you."

-

“Guys.” Walker alerted the team as a shadow appeared beside Bob’s body—a dark silhouette, mirroring your form. 

The team looked over, frozen at the shadow's sudden appearance. Bucky took a cautious step forward, and Yelena rose from her chair.

It felt like you had woken up from a deep slumber when you came to. Everyone watched as your tar-like self was slowly revealing itself, like a sheet unveiling you. The shadows released you, shedding away from your form down to your heels. A sigh escaped from you as you pushed against the floor. Your dress draped around you like a blanket as you peered up at your team and the guest who lay witness. You hear a grunt to your right, you turn and watch Bob come to as well. His eyes were trying to settle amongst the warm lighting surrounding the gala. His suit was wrinkled and left in disarray as he sat up. Yelena's heels clicked closer as she reached down to help you stand. "Oh my god!" She pulled you in closer for a hug. You were still finding your bearings. "Thank god. I thought we lost you!" You peer over to see Bob take Bucky's arms appreciatively.

Bucky pulls Bob to his feet, and a sigh of relief leaves him as he sees him finally become aware of his surroundings. He pats Bob on the back a few times, his grip on his palm tight.

"I knew you could do it, buddy." Bucky greets him with a small smile, his expression slightly worried as he observes his disheveled appearance.

"Thank you?" Bob blinks a couple of times, a forced smile on his face, before it fades. "Do what exactly?"

"You don't remember-" Bucky confirms. "You brought Y/n back from the-" Bucky's words were interrupted by the touch of Alexei's grasp on his upper arm and the sound of Walker's words.

"Bucky...Let's debrief him later. Not right now." He suggested. "She's back and safe. We'll deal with it at home. Not here."

"Is everything okay?" Bob's gaze flickers over to see you surrounded by Yelena and Ava. They were checking you over, making sure everything was okay.

Were you hurt?

He looks back at Bucky, his expression hardening. "I brought Y/n back from what?"

"Not here, kid." Walker reached forward to pat his shoulder. "You did great, that's all that matters-" Walker inhales deeply as Bob's hand tightened around his wrist.

"Don't- Don't call me kid." Bob closes his eyes, his irritation getting the better of him as his eyes glow amber for a split second. He gestures a pointed finger at Walker. "From what?"

Alexei steps forward, placing a gentle hand on Bob’s tense shoulders. "Easy there." He cautiously speaks. "Everything is fine now."

Bob's face remains stern, his gaze steady, irritation clear in his expression. "Tell me."

Walker and Bucky exchanged a worried look, both of them noticing the change in Bob's demeanor. "Not now," Walker repeated, his voice firmer this time, his grip on Bob's hand that held his wrist, not letting up either. Bob sensed the clear indication that Walker wasn't going to elaborate, not in the middle of this venue. The commotion from earlier was probable cause for them to high-tail it out of there. Bob’s stubbornness didn’t help their favor.

Bucky leaned in, his tone low, hoping to diffuse the situation. He closed his eyes before giving in.  "Look, Void got loose, okay? Something happened. Everyone came back, Y/n didn't." Bob's grip falters, his eyes softening at the information. "Later, okay? We'll explain everything later. But we should probably leave, head home."

"What do you mean she didn't come back?" Bob's confusion only grows. His eyes shifted over to where you were reassuring people that you were fine, who asked if you needed a doctor.

"No, no. I'm okay. Really." He heard your voice bellow out from the short distance between you.

Bob couldn't help but watch as you shook your head, waving off any worried busybodies, and he found himself torn. Part of him wanted to let it go, to leave it be as Bucky and the others insisted. But there was another part of him that yearned to understand. He couldn't leave without answers. He pushed against Bucky's arm, which was trying to ground him.

"Yelena-Yelena!" He called out to her. She waved off another guest, who couldn't mind their business.

“Yes, yes, fine. All is good and well now.”

"Oh my god, what a mess! Is she okay?" Valentina's voice became apparent. Where did she come from? "Y/n, dear, the second you don't feel like yourself, say when. I got medical on call, alright."

"Oh no, I'm fine. I don't need a medic to come-"

"Oh my god, Valentina. She's fine. I promise. Don't intervene." She grew annoyed with Valentina's facade of sudden concern. She wasn't worried about your well-being, just worried about maintaining your image in the public's eye. Valentina continued with her rambling about how much she cared and would prefer it if you were checked over. "Oh my god, we don't need a medic here, ТЫ УПРЯМЫЙ МУЛ!" Yelena cursed. Who knows how Valentina would settle this mess with the press? She double-takes at the sound of her name being called before her attention settles on Bob's concerned one.

"Is she okay?" He mouths.

"She's fine," She waves him off. "Promise." She then nods before rolling her eyes as Valentina rants about having let him out of the house. He reciprocates her nod before his shoulders relax briefly at her assurance, his worry slightly lessened. But something still gnawes at him. His gaze drifts over to you again, his expression turning solemn as he sees the fake smiles and the feigned concern that some are displaying. You didn’t need their fake niceties.

His gaze lingers on you, trying to garner any sign that you weren't fine, but it wasn’t long before you locked eyes.

You catch his gaze, then begin excusing yourself from the small crowd, as a sense of anxiety overcomes you.

"Excuse me-" You politely muttered as you made your way toward him. It was as if a gravitational pull was urging you to him. The room, the people, everything else faded into the background as your focus solely centered on him.

Bob straightens at your approach, taken aback as you nestle yourself into his chest, your arms wrapping around him.

Startled, he initially freezes for a few seconds before his body relaxes, molding into you. His arms naturally encircle your form, pulling you into a tight embrace, his chin perched on top of your head. Your scent and warmth enveloped him, a sense of comfort washing over him. You felt like home.

"Hi…" Bob's voice, a soft whisper, reached your ears as he greeted you. You feel his hands mold more firmly around your waist, a gesture that makes your heart skip.

"Hi..." You return the greeting, your own voice just as soft, finding solace in the familiar sound of his breaths. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah..." His response short. “Are you okay?" He emphasizes, a hand gently stroking your exposed back.

"I'm fine." You wave it off.

Bob's eyebrow raises, his expression doubtful as he peers down at you. "You sure...?" He questions further, knowing you're prone to downplaying. But so was he.

“Yes and no.” A nervous laugh resounded from you.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” He offers, even though he’s not sure what he’s saving you from. He’s caught glimpses of your past before, not that you’d ever truly forego the idea of talking to him about it. He was much alike you in the manner of only giving surface levels of his ugly past. You both only knew what you allowed to be seen.

“You did. You helped me.” Your words, their simplicity, but all the more effective, affectionate, sure. He helped you? How could he have helped you, but have no recollection of it? You smile sweetly as you reach to place a kiss on his cheek. Was this your thankfulness wrapped up in an act of endearment? “You might not remember it, but you were enough, and you were there." You nod suringly.

He looks at the way you're molded against his chest. How his hands fit and embrace your figure like he's ready to protect and shield you from harm's way. The way your softened eyes perceive him in this lightheartedness. Like he's somehow hung the stars in your night sky. He can't help but wonder what he's done. What he's done to be truly worth being perceived delicately. You look like you're scared he'll disappear right before your eyes, when he's the scared one, thinking you'll break under his touch.

"Bucky’s saying Void got out again..." He looks down between your bodies. "I should have stayed home- I made everything worse-"

"You did nothing wrong, okay." You reach up, cupping his face gently, lifting his chin so he'd meet your gaze. "You did nothing wrong." You insist. He places his palms over your hands. Leaning into the warmth your touch brings him.

“I remember him..." He nods at his sudden recollection. It comes to him in bits and pieces. "Ryker." His hands slide up your wrist to the purple indentations marring your wrist, contrasting your skin's original shade. He opens his eyes, hoping he's wrong when he peers at the discoloration. But your hurt wrist only brings forth the truth. Telling him everything he didn’t want to be true. He feels guilty for even letting the asshole execute the action, he tries to conjure up ways he can make the injury vanish. Would a kiss heal your wounds? Take away his mistakes? He opted not to, but he was tempted to do so. "He bruised you." He nods, firm and sure.

"Bruises fade, Bob." There you go again, downplaying someone's unforgiving behavior.

"A bruise might...The memories won't." You shake your head at his trepidation. "Why didn't you fight him? You...You're capable of defending yourself?" Bob looks into your eyes.

"I didn't want to escalate the situation..." You shrug dismissively..

"But he hurt you? He hurt you, and I couldn't stop him in time, I-" He pauses, when it hits him like a tidal wave. The way various shouts echo through his head. Your voice bellowing in anguish. A flash of your face painted with pain.

You had been thrown across the center of the venue's dance floor. You rolled and then landed awkwardly on your stomach. Your once neat hairdo was disheveled in your sudden state. You pushed up with your heels and palms.

"Y/n!" Yelena made for you, but you shook your head.

"No, no, don't." You held your hand out, halting Walker and Yelena from approaching you. "Stay back!" You warned.

"B-Bob stop!" You cry out, a rasp to your voice.

"I hurt you..." Bob's eyes widen in fear. He tries to pull your hands away from his face. It was as though he were the Flint Striker and you were the one caught on fire. He was burning you. "No, no, no..." His eyes close as he gently grips your palms and lowers them to your waist. You didn't want to let him go. "I make everything worse. I should have stayed home- I didn't mean to hurt you-"

"Bob." You begin your reasoning. “No, I’m fine. You saved me! You got me out of there, everything’s better now.” You reach for him when he flinches. He hates how your face falls, even more so, when he denies you proximity.

“I-I should’ve stayed home.” He accepts before making his way back to Bucky, asking if they could leave.

“B-Bob!” You call after him, your dam cracking, hearing faint clicks approach your form from behind, you look up.

“Come on. Let’s get you both home before Valentina makes an ever bigger show.”

Yelena.

You peer at her, eyes glistening. She tilts her head, an apologetic smile on her face.

“Come on.” She wraps a blazer around your shoulders. One that smelled oddly like the shaggy-haired man. You were dreading the car ride home, that much certain.

-

“So you instigated him?” The drive back to the watch tower was nothing short of an unbearable experience. Your scowl and crossed arms giving way to how pissed off you were. Bucky and Walker avoided your harsh, directed stare. Bob had sat to your side, curling in on himself as the tension only intensified. His hands were warm, a mock of how close your skin was to touching, but he’d more than likely pull away.

Dreadful.

Now you all had made it out of the elevator with the team hot on your trail. Your heels clicked heavily against the floors. Bob stood off to the side slowly discarding the tie Yelena had done for him. He looked down at the fabric. Messing with it idly to distract himself from the fight he knew would break out. His shoulders reflected that of a small child anticipating his parent’s anger, slumped over on his tall frame.

“I wouldn’t say that? It was more of a friendly bit of teasing. All we did was give him the nudge he needed to confess the undying love he has for you.” Walker sighed as he went over to the bar. “We saw how pissed Ryker was making you…told the kid to go save you or to stop bitching about how much he wants to be with you.”

Asshole.

“So you hazed him and made Void come out.”

“Well, when you put it that way…” Walker trails off.

“You’re unbelievable!”

“Look, we didn’t mean for it to happen-“

“Didn’t mean-“ You laugh incredulously. “Spare me, Walker. No one can function properly, when you’re down everyone’s throat with childish antics. What were you even thinking?”

“Y/n, you don’t need to stick up for me-” Bob tried to create space between you and the Soldier.

“He wasn’t.” Bucky stepped in. Running a hand down his face tiredly. “We thought it’d be harmless, Y/n. Why would we ever intentionally put him through that sort of thing?”

“I told you we were gonna get him out of the house so he good have a fun night. Did I not tell you I wanted no weapons for tonight? To not wound him up to the point of his other self being unleashed. I was gonna come back after I handled Ryker. I had it handled.” You sneer at the man. Tears forming in your eyes, shaking your head at his ignorance.

A scoff to your left makes everyone’s head turn. Bob fiddles with his tie, his head shaking, a half smile settled over his face. “He bruised you…that’s not handling it.”

“Bob-“ You sigh.

“It…It wasn’t their fault, Y/n. If anyone’s to blame, blame it on me. I went after you…”

“No-“ You protest.

“Bucky and Walker only brought the idea up to me...It was my choice alone. I made the decision…to check on you. But now…I-I should have stayed home-“ Bob shakes his head. “Valentina was right…I shouldn’t have been let out.”

“Valentina can dig her grave and lie in it. I’m tired of her trying to keep you locked up here. You’re allowed to go outside when you feel like it! You’re not under house arrest, she can’t confine you to this place-”

“I just make everything worse.” Bob's brows pinch together. You cup your stomach as tears begin to spill down your face.

“No. You don’t. Don’t think like that. You don’t, I promise.” Your protest further escalated his self-loathing.

“Void took hold of you from what everyone is saying, and for whatever reason, felt the need to keep you from getting back to us. He hurt you, I hurt you.“

“But that’s not on you! That wasn’t your fault! It was mine. For thinking I could somehow bring you back down from in there.” Your eyes meet his temple. “I made things worse. I mean—I shot a bullet at you! I could have knocked him on his ass, but I didn’t and it wasn’t the right call for me to make.” You argue.

“We’re one whole. How is it not my fault?” His shoulders slumped, looking at the team’s conflicted expressions. “Am I wrong?” He breathes a laugh out. “Nothing ever turns out great when I’m around.” He slowly retreats towards the stairs. “I told you guys I should’ve stayed home...” 

“Bob please…” You call after him.

“Let him go.” Bucky orders. You turn back to look at your teammates. 

“D-Did I just ruin this things between us?” You let your arms flop down to your sides.

“No…it’s not your fault. This isn’t your fault at all.” Bucky reassures you. He walks over to you and squeezes your shoulder.

“Why didn’t you knock him on his ass?” Walker questions.

“I was going to,” You snapped back at him. “-but I didn’t. I couldn’t. I don't know...It felt like I was back there again, enduring his abuse when he grabbed me...I guess I froze." You shrug nonchalantly. "Then Bob showed up...and I couldn't think straight. Couldn't think of a way not to escalate things further, but I only made it worse, and it cost Ryker his life in the end...Cost Bob a fun night."

"He killed him?" Walker closes his eyes; your turmoil didn't do anything to hide it. He didn't miss the coms from the authorities either, claiming one casualty earlier on their way out of the venue.

You looked at the floor. "He did...and he doesn't need that put on him. So don't fucking tell him." You warn.

"I think Bob should decide that for himself, no?" Bucky raised a brow at you. "What happened to letting him make his own choices from now on?"

“Well, he wanted to stay home, but we all kept insisting he go out with us. So I don’t know anymore! And I'm not deciding for him..." Your hands were balled into a tight fist. "He should decide, yes, but when he's ready. He doesn't need to know about it right now...It just happened and a part of me isn’t too upset with him about it, but he's in such a vulnerable state right now...I feel like it’ll only do more harm than good...It'll be another thing for him to hate himself over...He doesn’t need that right now.” You say softly. “You guys should have seen him when we were in the void…He’s so capable and we take his gifts for granted.”

“We never thought he was incapable, it's why we agreed to allow him to make his own choices, decide what he eats for dinner, allow him to find his own hobbies. Tonight was just a one-time incident where we peer pressured him into leaving his room, when he didn't want to."

“Well, that peer pressure backfired, didn’t it?” You said under your breath. You run a hand down your face in frustration. “God, he didn’t even want to leave his room...Did you see how uncomfortable he was at dinner? You said it yourself, we coerced him. And I’ve never seen him more upset about it...” You turn your head, peering at the staircase. "Was it stupid of me to think we could show him a fun night out?"

"No. We all wanted the same for him." Yelena shakes her head. "It's not stupid."

"Then why does it feel like it is? He's probably up in his room beating himself up for even stepping outside."

"'Cause you love him..." Yelena gave you a pinched tired grin.

You look away from her. Your shoulders slumped as your eyes burned with unshed tears. It was quiet. No one was sure of what to say. You closed your eyes as that familiar pain in your chest returned. "I do. I love him..." Your voice broke. "But this isn't about how I feel. It's about him." You shake your head. "He was just starting to feel a little more secure with himself in public...He's gonna hate himself for thinking he ruined everyone's night. I could see it in his eyes...The last thing he needs is to feel guilty over something he has no control over." You continue.

"It's not fair to him...He's had it rough for so long, and every time there's progress, something bad happens that takes him thirty steps back." You let out a small scoff. "Maybe I never should have brought up the idea of a night out in the first place...How can he forgive me after a night like tonight?"

"'Cause he loves you too." Yelena tilts her head at your self-deprecation.

You look at her. Your body stiffens, and your chest tightens as you let her words sink in. "But what good is it to love me if it only brings him pain? How long before that love fades to nothing because of my negligence?"

Yelena shakes her head, taking your hands in hers. "You can't doubt yourself, or his feelings for you. I know it's difficult, but the last thing you need to do is start putting yourself down and feeling sorry about tonight." She squeezes your hands.

Bucky stood next to you, his arms crossed over his chest as he nodded in agreement. "You know that you mean a lot to him right?"

“And he only agreed to go out because you wanted him there with us.” Yelena admits.

“Also, we might’ve encouraged him to confess his feelings for you, but he wanted to do it at his own time…I should have stopped then and there, kid. I’m sorry.”

Bucky’s admission only added to the weight that sat heavy in your chest. You look over at him and nod slowly, unable to form words.

Yelena gently rubbed you on the back. “You know he can’t stay inside that room forever. You both need each other." Yelena chimed in. “Plus he can’t go a day without his cereal so there’s that…”

"He'll come to his senses..." Walker gives you a faint grin. “He’d be stupid not to.”

“T-Thanks guys…” You step back from Yelena’s hands. “I’m gonna be outside if you need me…gonna clear my head.”

“Want some company?” Ava offers surprisingly.

“N-No I’m okay.” You brush her off before you head out to the roof.

“Take the time you need, little one.” Alexei chimes after you. You raises a thumb in the air in your exit.

When you're out of sight, Walker asks. "What time is it?"

Bucky checks his watch. "Just a quarter till midnight. Why?"

At the realization, Walker takes off towards the staircase. "Walker, what are you doing?" Yelena called after him.

"Keeping my promise!" He called from over his shoulder. “You'll see!” Bucky, Yelena, Ava shared a look as he ran up the stairs and disappeared.

"What the hell is that about?" Yelena gapes before shaking her head. “Whatever, I’m going to bed. Someone make sure Y/n doesn’t jump off the roof.”

“I don’t think we have to worry about that…” Bucky shakes his head.

-

You hadn't fully registered how the cold breeze stung you until you felt a jacket fall over your shoulders.  You had been so caught by New York's optics that you missed the metal door creak open. You jump at the sudden contact, thinking you'd see someone beside you, but you had to turn further around to see the man of the hour, who had been running through your mind, stood at the door. You take note of the hand he lowers back down to his side. Putting two and two together about how the jacket made it to you. He made it float. "Bob..."

“Walker said you might be cold…” He said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Right…I-I was...thank you." You turn your head, nuzzle your nose into the fabric as you insert your arms through the arm holes.

He nods his head. “Welcome…” His chest feels tight watching you snuggle into his jacket. His gaze settled down in front of him. Neither of you say anything. The sounds of New York City echo throughout the night air. Car engines, taxi cabs, faint horns in the distance. Time did seem to stop up here, whereas life continued down on the streets. It was oddly comforting. "C-Could I join you?"

You look back at him, surprised by his suddenness. "Yeah...Yeah of course."

He nods then takes the spot next to you; awkwardly fidgets with his fingers in his lap. He turns his head, looking at you in his jacket. It was a sight for sure...He tried to ignore the way his heart palpitated in his chest.

He tries to focus on the sound of the wind and the city in the distance. But his eyes linger on you, taking in your form. How the evening sky envelopes you in its darkness, distant lights from neighboring buildings causing a warm hue to make your face visible to him, the way the wind nipped at your nose, and your sniffles took over you...He couldn't deny it...You looked beautiful, so carefree.

You turn at the right time and catch him gazing at you. Your eyes crinkle with a hint of heat that rushes up to warm your cheeks. You both emit a nervous laugh, settling your eyes onto your laps. His hands wring together, yours fiddling with the jacket's sleeves.

The silence continued, but this time, there was an obvious tension in the air. The both of you were hyper-aware of it. His eyes continued to dart between you and the city lights. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything..."

His heart stutters in his chest. He takes a shaky breath, his nervousness building. He looks back at you. You look at him reassuringly, like you genuinely meant that one word...Anything.

It makes it difficult for him to get the next words out. "...It’s a stupid question." He rubs the back of his neck. 

“That’s okay.”

"I-I just-" He sighs, his jaw clenching as he looks out at the city again. "This might sound weird...But do you know how to tie a tie?" He swallows down any anxiety, forcing his gaze back on you.

“Oh.” Your eyes widen at the peculiar question. “Do I know how to tie a tie?” You ask again to ensure you heard him right. Bob nods yes. 

“Sorry...I warned you it was a stupid question. Just...Forget I asked, okay?" He rubs the back of his neck again, looking away.

"No, No...It's okay. If you really want to know. I do."

His eyes flicker with curiosity, meeting your gaze. "You...You do?" He quirks an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Why do you ask?"

He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, but there was an underlying hint of something in his eyes. "Oh, I was just...I was just curious, that's all...I can’t put one on myself...Yelena did it for me, but I…" He trails off, looking back at the city. "I just thought maybe...You could-" His words die in his throat, cutting himself off before he lets any more words slip. He shakes his head, his hands continuing to fidget in his lap.

You register the implication. "Teach you?" You try.

His breath hitches in his throat as you finish his sentence. He looks back at you, his eyes a mix of vulnerability and relief. He could sense the anticipation in your gaze, waiting for him to respond. "Y-Yeah...Teach me." He finally manages to rasp out. "So Yelena won't have to anymore..."

"Yeah, I can. Tell me when okay." You grip his hand. He nods.

"O-Okay..." He looks down at his lap. Your touch is soft and warm. He can't help letting the guilt eat at him. You were being so gentle with him when he was anything but. "I'm sorry I hurt you..."

"Don't-” You shake your head. “Don't do that. Don't apologize." You squeeze his hand gently. "It wasn't your fault...You weren't in control."

"But that doesn't change the fact that my other half hurt you!" He snaps back, his grip on your hand momentarily tightening. You both look down at his hold, his shoulders lose their tension before he's holding you like you're made out of porcelain.

"Look at me, please." You request softly. He raises his head, trying to avoid eye contact. His chest tightens, knowing he can’t hold your gaze for too long. "It wasn't you."

His jaw clenches, his eyes stinging. "I should've stayed here...Then I wouldn't have ruined the night." His breath shakes, the words leaving him in a broken whisper. His eyes meet yours, tears blurring his vision. He hated this—all of this.

Tears sting your eyes as well. Your free hand reaches up, brushing his cheek gently. His eyes flutter at your touch. "You didn't ruin anything..."

He shakes his head, refusing to accept the comfort you try to offer him. The guilt is too heavy, weighing him down like a thousand-pound weight. He feels so undeserving. "I did...I always do. I-I..." His voice trails off, tears spilling down his cheeks.

"No-" Your hand cups his face, forcing him to look at you. "No, you don't. You might make mistakes, but you don't always screw things up. You're a good man, Bob. You're so much more than what you think of yourself..." You lean your forehead against his. “You’re good.”

He tries not to melt at the way you say his name. His face falls forward, leaning his forehead into yours. He closes his eyes, savoring the feeling of your touch, your words. "How can you say that? Especially after tonight..."

"Because it’s true.” You softly run your thumb over his cheek, catching another tear that slips down. “You are such a good man.” You take a shaky breath, trying to find the right words. “You’ve been through a lot…You’ve been beaten down many times…but you keep bouncing back up.” He’s still against you, his breathing ragged as he lets the comfort of your proximity soothe him. “You brought me back from the Void, you didn’t leave me…You’re so good!” You breathe out a laugh. "I wish you'd see it yourself."

He can’t speak, the lump in his throat preventing him from doing so. Instead, he closes his eyes tighter, relishing in the sound of your voice. He’s desperate to soak up every word you say, to have them sink in, become second skin. He’s been deprived of something so simple for so long, to hear the one person he cares about say those words…It’s making him unravel at the seams. When he finally speaks, it’s barely above a whisper. “Do you love me?” 

The question hangs in the air like the sound of a church bell. You take note of how he’s looking at you. The way he leans into your touch, seeking the comfort of human contact that he’s been deprived of. Your hand gently cups his chin, your other moving to rest over his heart. His gaze is fixed on yours like an anchor, waiting for you to respond. You can read the desperation and need in his eyes, the vulnerability that he's trying so hard to conceal.

You see a man wanting, no, begging to be loved. To be told that he's worthy of it despite believing otherwise. You look at the way he's clutching your hand, desperate for some kind of reassurance. He's hurting, still so damn broken, but not loving him with every fiber in your being would hurt you more. "Yes…God, I’d be stupid not to." You breathe a laugh.

Your words hit him like a tidal wave. His heart stutters in his chest, the grip he has on your hand clenching involuntarily. His eyes search yours again, looking for any sign of deception, anything to tell him you don't really mean it. But all he sees is complete honesty looking right back at him. He shakes his head; a broken laugh escapes his lips as his chest tightens at the confession. "Yeah…You really mean that?"

His questioning. It only hurts you further. So you cup his face, bringing him closer so you could look into his eyes. “I do. I mean it...I love you.” He flinches. He’s frozen, eyes searching your face, waiting for you to take it back. You don’t. 

You run your thumb over his skin, gently brushing your nose against his. You see tears form in his eyes again, and suddenly, his hands are on your waist. Gripping the material of the jacket he gave to you, pulling you close. “Can you repeat it?” He finally croaks out.

“I love you…” You’d tell him three thousand times if he asked.

He shivers; the tremble of his chin is barely noticeable. “Again?” You’re suddenly pulled into his lap with a soft force. The grip he has on you is tight, not rough, as though he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

"I love you." You trace his jawline. He lets out a shaky breath. It's not long till you're leaning in to capture his lips with yours.

The first touch of your lips against his has him releasing a low groan. His eyes flutter as he melts into it before he suddenly pulls you flush against him, desperately trying to savor it—savor your touch. His lips move against yours in a frenzy, his hands gripping you tighter on your hips. The kiss is filled with need, a longing he can barely contain.

He can’t get enough. The taste of you was so sweet and warm. He’s been deprived of such a simple thing that now his body screams for it. His heart beats wildly in his chest, his hands exploring every part of you he can reach. He can feel your body against his, its heat, that only adds fuel to the fire. The kiss deepens, becoming more passionate and desperate than you expected from him. When you pull back to gather your bearings, to allow oxygen back into your lungs, you can’t help but cry. Bob, already second-guessing the little make-out session, feeling he's done something wrong, was relieved when your words deterred his troubled thoughts.

“You're good, you're worthy, and you are so loved…” You wipe the remaining tears with the back of your hand. "If you ever take anything from this conversation, Bob, let it be those three words. You deserve to be wanted. To be happy, to be loved…"

[bubobubosibericus]

OK FINE I'LL WRITE ONE

I don't remember what happened, not really. I remember it being unexpected, and I remember the movement of the air around me being strangely comforting. But that is all. I don't know why emotions are all I remember of the before when most of the thing experiencing those emotions is gone, but that is how it is. When I woke up I was laying in a clinic. Blind in one eye, but otherwise okay, or that is what I presumed.

I was right in that I could no longer see out of one eye, but I was as far from okay as it is possible to be, and it wasn't really that I was blind in one eye. More that there wasn't an eye to be blind in anymore.

It was gone, along with most of the left side of my head. The doctors told me they had only kept me alive because they were amazed I was alive at all when they found me and wanted to run some more experiments on me before dropping the stasis field and burying me. Of course, that was before I woke up.

I don't begrudge them the experiments, really. I would have done mostly the same ones. Of course, I had my fair share of critiques of their work, but that was just academic. My left arm will never work again due to the bronze rods they stuck straight into my nerves but the information we obtained that way makes it more than worth the small sacrifice.

Looking at my reflection still feels strange, with the large, fragile mesh of iridescent crystal that has grown to replace most of where my brain had been so plainly visible, grafted into the mostly healed skin, starting at my cheek, going just barely over the bridge of my nose, and then all the way around to the back. Of course, the scars go much farther than that. I did not fall off the highest tower in the capital, but it had been plenty high to mangle my body quite severely.

I can use my right arm and legs now, but to get to that point a very skilled immortal craftsman had to meticulously shape the crystal into manageable chunks and I can feel it awkwardly being pulled on by my muscles with every movement I make.

We don't really know why I fell. Wizards have never been a species particularly know for their dexterity but I had been a veritable athlete compared to some of my far older peers. I had been well liked among them, too, of course, but the field of temporal research has always been prone to strangely mundane deadly accidents.

The story goes that the entire subject is cursed for attempting to manipulate the hands of fate, but I have never been convinced by those rumors. Power struggles are not rare among mages, and such a rumor might provide ample cover to get rid of potential competitors. I have no idea who did it, but I am convinced that someone did.

Thankfully saner heads prevailed over my preservation and I had been quietly moved out of the city long before I woke up. Out of the hands of whomever might intend to do me harm. I can never return there, but at least I can continue my research in silence here, in the mountains of ash. Also a place said by myth to be deeply accursed. I guess I just can't seem to learn my lesson.

But I just can't help it! the place speaks to me, and I don't mean that figuratively. That is another thing that has changed since the accident. I hear voices. Every place has its own. Most places have been fairly uninteresting. Places do not have complex desires. They want the same things the life on them wants and for most of them that is nothing more complex than to enjoy the light of the sun and the gentleness of mild rain on a hot day.

Not so with the mountains of Ash.

This place has a morose sorrow to it. The skies are blue and the rocks are plain, but it isn't the shape of the place. Something has happened here. It wasn't always like this, the voices tell me. Someone did something to this place. For the past year, I have been traveling in these mountains, and I have come to agree with the rocks. The mountains of ash are not cursed at all. they are simply like me.

Badly hurt, angry and sad. And most of all, they want to understand what happened to them like I want to know what happened to me. We have been helping each other out in that regard. I do research on what happened here, and in return, the mountains keep me safe and hidden. Sometimes, I get to see glimpses of what happened to them, and of what they were before. I see a great many-winged beast soaring overhead and a vast storm on the ground. I see castles collapsing and I see beautiful meadows that are no more. I see the burning dead and I can feel their anger and fear crash into me like a wave and then the sun breaks through the clouds a little faster than expected and I somehow know with absolute certainty that I am safe. It is as if the hills themselves are glad to finally share their woes with someone.

I am still no closer to knowing who took my brain from me, but at least I have gained a home.

When a mage is badly injured, magic sometimes "fills in the gaps"—growing an arcane hand or leg. You suffered brain damage that would have killed most. Magic filled in your mind.

[pinkolve]

Sharing Is Caring

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·

Summary: You’re Aaron Hotchner’s daughter who works in human resources, after a few weeks at your new job you finally go to visit your father. He offers to introduce you to his team, and you quickly take a liking to a certain skinny nerd.

Genre: Fluff!

CW: fem!reader, early seasons!spencer reid, second person point of view, one use of y/n, probably ooc aaron hotchner, pretty sure that’s it!

Word Count: 1.0k

A/N: Very short one-shot that I kind of hate!! I was bored and needed something to write so…This was the result of that. 

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·

You walk into the bullpen, heels smushing over the carpet. You’re used to your heels being extremely loud, the freshly mopped floors making them clack. You make your way past several desks, people focused on piles upon piles of paperwork. You spot a desk further back, home to the cutest brunette you’ve ever seen. He’s the only one who glances up, making direct eye contact with you. You give him a small smile and a wink. He quickly looks back down at his papers with pink dusting his cheeks. 

You knock on Aaron’s office door. You stand there for a moment before his voice calls out, “Come in!” You push the door open and walk in, shutting it quietly behind you. 

“Hey.” You greet, hoping to get him to finally look up from his desktop. He does, eyes lighting up when he sees you. 

“Hey! What are you doing up here?” He asks, immediately standing from his chair to walk around and hug you. 

“Thought I’d see how you’re doing, plus I don’t have much to do downstairs.” You smile up at him and he shakes his head. 

“I’m sure you have plenty to do, you just don’t want to do it.” He chuckles a little when you nod. 

“Very true!” He pulls away, leaning against the front of his desk. 

“Well, if you really don’t want to do your job, I’m sure the team would love to meet you.” You look at him with wide eyes. 

“No! No, I wouldn’t want to bother them! Besides, I really should do some work.” You insist. But Aaron knows you, and he knows you’re just making excuses. 

“You aren’t going to bother them. They’ve been doing paperwork for nearly five hours straight, I’m sure they’d love a break.” He stands back to his full height and gently grabs your shoulder. “Come on.” He says, pulling the door open and nudging you outside. He follows right behind you, shutting the door and leading you down the small steps. Once he reaches the group of desks closest to his office he clears his throat. The entirety of his team looks up at the sound, all attention on him. 

“Everyone, this is Y/N. She works for human resources, just started a few weeks ago.” Aaron says proudly, smile wide. His team looks at him in terror, none of them have ever seen him smile this big. 

“Nice to meet you! How are you liking the job?” Emily asks you first. You look over at her before answering. 

“It’s nice! I haven’t had much to contribute yet, but I’m hoping that’ll change soon enough.” You answer, a hopeful smile taking up your features. 

“Oh, it definitely will! My first few weeks here, I was practically useless.” Emily assured you. You simply nod at her, having no proper verbal response. You start to feel that social anxiety bubble up inside you, making you feel insecure. You’re about to zone out when you see the brunette boy open his mouth. You can see words tumble out but your ears are ringing. You feel a nudge at your side and you quickly look up, ears clearing. 

“What?” You ask timidly. 

“Reid was asking how old you are.” Aaron says, resting a hand on your lower back. He can see the nervousness all over your face. 

“Twenty-one.” You respond simply, staring back at him. He nods with the hint of a smile, his pink cheeks returning. You stare at him with sparkling eyes, your own smile widening and all anxiety seemingly disappearing from your body. He glances away from you for a second, only to look back not long after. You stare at each other for a while. Spencer should feel uncomfortable, just staring back at someone like this, but for some strange reason you make him feel so calm. 

“Okay, well you should probably get back to work.” Aaron says, cutting off your trance. You look back up at him, shaking your head frantically. 

“Right! Right, sorry! I’ll see you later!” You say quickly, before running out of the bullpen. 

“So, who is that?” Morgan asks, eyebrows raised. 

“What do you mean?” Aaron asks back. 

“Who is she to you? Cousin, niece…girlfriend?” Morgan trails off, hoping to god the last option is out of the question. Spencer looks up at the mention of ‘girlfriend’ , his heart racing. Why was his heart racing? 

“She’s my daughter.” Aaron answers simply, making Spencer’s heart slow down. Morgan stares at him in utter disbelief, the rest of the team shouting at him from different directions. He only laughs before making his way back up to his office, ignoring their begging for answers. 

***

You make your way out of the building, staring down at your phone. The screen mere inches from your face as you try to get an uber. You push open the front door and run into someone the second you exit. You stumble backwards, looking up quickly. 

“I’m so sorry!” It’s him, Spencer Reid. You stare at him with a slack jaw, all words failing you at this moment. 

“No, that’s alright! I wasn’t watching where I was going.” He says, voice cracking slightly. 

“Neither was I.” You reply honestly. “I was trying to get an uber but it’s not working at all.” You look back down at your phone, pouting with furrowed brows. “I really am sorry for running into you like that, I haven’t been thinking properly at all today.” You chuckle a little, rubbing your forehead. Ever since you saw him in the bullpen, it’s like your brain completely shut down. 

“I haven’t either, honestly.” Spencer practically whispers. “My lyft should be here soon…If you want to share?” He proposes. 

“That would be perfect! Thank you so much!” You yell happily. You look at him, smile so wide it pushes up your cheeks. Spencer can’t help but think it’s the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. 

[enhani-ki]

round with my baby - reader x ni-ki

warnings: smut, pregnancy scare, cursing, etc.

sex with your boyfriend ni-ki had never really been possible before. between his packed schedule and the fact that his dorm was never truly empty, there was just never a right moment.

you both always kept things quiet and sneaky—stolen kisses behind closed doors, hands slipping under clothes when no one was looking. every moans was muffled against the crook of each other's necks, always heated and hurried but stopping just before things went too far.

ni-ki didn't have much experience either, but he admitted that with you, he feels more confident. being close to you made him curious—eager to touch, explore, and try all the things he'd only ever thought about before.

"fuuuck," he groaned, head falling forward to rest against yours. "you feelーyou feel so good, baby."

and ever since he got some time off, ni-ki didn't wasted a second and spent every moment with you. he doesn't even care now if there were people in the dorm while he's fucking you.

"faster, riki—please, please," you cried out, fingers digging into his back as you tried to pull him closer, like it would somehow make him go deeper.

your inside walls were so warm, so wet, he swore it should've been easy to move—but you were gripping him too well, it's so hard to think straight.

your head was spinning too. his hips slapped against yours with so much urgency, his breathless moans falls with every thrust. you felt his cock twitched inside of you. he was close.

"wait—shit, shit, shit," he gasped, eyes wide as he tried to pull out, but it was too late.

ni-ki's cum was already leaking from your swollen pussy. it was still spilling from his tip also, thick and hot... your boy couldn't help it as it really felt too good to stop in time.

"oh my god—baby…" ni-ki kissed you, guilt flashed in his face, though his rock-hard cock was twitching against your inner thigh, begging to be inside again.

"mmh, it felt good," you whispered. wrapping your arms around him needy, even after he had filled you.

"yeーyeah? can i put it back in?" he asked, wiping the sweat off your forehead before pressing a kiss on your lips.

"yes, riki... hurry," you moaned. ni-ki lined himself back into the mess he made between your thighs, groaning as he slid inside. your body was already sensitive, overstimulated, but the moment he filled you again, you suddenly prefer if he could fuck you 'til you go dumb.

your back arched off the bed. "how—how come you're so good?" you asked him. leaning to bite his lower lip, enough for it to sting and for him to hiss.

ni-ki cursed under his breath before chuckling, eyes locked on the way your body trembled beneath him. the sheets were already soaked from the juices of slick and his cum dripping from your swollen cunt. "you're so sexy,"

he leaned back to watch himself slide in and out of you—slow, deep, then fast. the sight made his breath hitch, seeing how his cock glistened each time it dragged out before sinking back in. "babe, you're dripping everywhere…"

you hands clawed at his shoulders, "almost thereーriki, i'm—!" ni-ki felt your pussy throbbing inside, he picked up his pace the moment he heard you call out his name. "cum," he demanded, panting while kissing the corner of your mouth. "let me feel you, baby."

he held you tight the moment your walls fluttered around him, locking you in place as you came. your sharp cries filled the room, trying to push him away.

and without missing a beat, ni-ki started thrusting harder and faster, pounding into your soaking pussy while covering your neck with sloppy kisses and licks. "that's it, y/n... cum on my cock," he whispered. "soak me, and i'm gonna fill you up—i swear."

his words shot pleasure straight to your core that you can't stop leaking. he started cumming too almost instantly after, the hot spurts of his release surged deep inside your womb.

"fuuuck, take it all," ni-ki gasped, slamming into you a few more times while you milked him for every last drop of his seed.

his cock were still buried inside, twitching as he collapsed on top of you. ni-ki looked up to press soft kisses to your neck, your jaw, your lips "i love you so much, y/n..."

"i love you too, baby."

the period tracker, which you both used more as a joke at first, now looked insane—full of hearts and entries of unprotected sex.

...too many "didn't pull out" notes to count.

even when he hadn't moved yet, you already felt like crying. all ni-ki did was stay still inside, cock throbbing gently, but your eyes welled up.

he pulled back, gave a shallow thrust, then froze. "y/n…" he whispered, staring at your heaving tits. his brows were furrowed like he's thinking about something mid-fucking. "i—fuck—i don't know," he said leaning down to kiss your cheek, then your lips. "if i finish inside you again… you might really get pregnant."

your breath got caught in your throat, "huhー?" ni-ki kissed you again before you could say anything, his tongue roamed inside that all you could do was to whimper into his mouth.

"i'm gonna take care of you, baby."

days passed, then weeks. your body starts to feel strange, your body felt heavy, and on top of that... your period didn't come.

you ignored it and blamed it on stress, but you also stopped texting ni-ki back. you stopped answering your boyfriend's calls because every time his name lit up your screen, your stomach flip.

you don't know what to say to him. you weren't even sure what you feel but you know you needed space, even though all it did was make your head hurt more.

riki: talk to me, please.

riki: baby?

ni-ki showed up at your place eventually. he didn't say anything at first—he just sat beside you and pulled you into his arms to hold you tight. he kissed your temple, your cheek, and the top of your head.

"why don't you talk to me?" he asked softly, hurt, but mostly concerned.

"iーi didn't know how," you whispered. "i just… i feel weird. and i don't even have my period yet."

"riki… i don't know if i'm just being paranoid or if something's actually happening." you sniffled, his arms tightened protectively around you.

"it's possible," you continued. "i mean… with how much we've been—y'know…"

"with how much i came inside you every chance i got?" he finished the words for you, smiling gently as he tucked your hair behind your ear.

you looked away, blushing at his words. "don't say it like that… i wanted it too."

"i know, but it's still on me," he said softly. "'m sorry, baby." ni-ki cupped your face and kissed you sweetly, brushing his thumb along your cheek... he loves you too much.

"i told you," he murmured. "no matter what happens—whatever you want—i'm going to take care of you... promise."

he then tilted your chin up until your teary eyes met his. "you're not alone, y/n."

"you're so pretty," ni-ki pulled you in his chest, letting you rest while his hand stroked your back gently. "you know what i think about sometimes?" he asked, burying his face in your hair. "coming home to you. you throwing your arms around me…"

"or letting me bend you over the counter, fucking you on the couch... having our mess all over the place."

"what?!" you laughed through a teary smile, feeling warm for the first time in days.

he chuckled too, "yeah. i want to see you walking around naked," he murmured, lips grazing your skin...

"you can be swollen, round with my baby."

you looked up at him and gave his arm a light slap, but your glare didn't last when he pouted, silently asking for a kiss.

you couldn't help it. you just chuckled and leaned in after watching your boyfriend turn to a man then back to being a cute ridiculous boyfriend again.

a/n: this is crazy T-T prayers for reader plzzz + posted this along with enhypen as your "stressed" boss check it out too (^_^) also made this listening to sweet love by chris brown.

masterlist: マスターリストm.list

[the-bi-fangirl-biatch]

more headcanons for then that i just *cannot* stop thinking about, and I encourage you to add on!

Bob will always check on them during missions or press ops in very different ways to each person (potential for a 5 times + 1 fic ofc). either voice mails, texts through different platforms, letters (Bucky especially appreciates them), photos of what new meal prep they're gonna come home to. Very domestic, like a spouse waiting for their partner to come home from the war.

And another thing, I think Bob would get really into stationery. He'd bullet journal as one of his techniques to cope with what's happened. Yelena would say she has absolutely no time to do that, but then spend hours at his desk, poking and prodding at his newly delivered stationery. "What’s this do?" "That's a rolling stamp to make borders. See? It's pretty and really easy." "Can I try?" She fumbles it at first, but once she aligns it right, she refuses to stop. All his extra paper has rolls of the stamp. She writes Nat's name with it, then hers, then Bob's, then the teams'. It makes them both feel better to create and organize things rather than destroy them.

Ava will unironically wear Alexei's merch. At first she found it annoying, like 'come on man how many ideas do you have?' And then it turns into 'oh shit, how many ideas do you have?' Alexei would run things by the team and when they roll their eyes at the new product, he'd say, "But Ava used it! See, useful!" She defends herself by insisting that, "It was already there! One less thing to think about so we can focus on more important missions." "Are you using the AvengerZ plate and utensil set?" ".....No"

John still cannot shake his military habits, no matter how hard he tries, and everyone surprisingly connects with him through them one way or another. He wakes up at the asscrack of dawn to jog, and somehow Bucky's there, too, tying his sneakers about to go out. They have a race. Don't ask either of them who wins, or they get grumpy (they both got distracted and ran into trees/ran into a fountain and both got wet). Yelena cannot be assed to heat up the (amazingly made) mac and cheese that Bob stocked up for them, so she eats it straight out of the tupperware. John's hungry too and, well, he's used to roughing it up with little to no supplies in the field, so he eats the cold pasta beside her. He catches Ava rolling her clothes quickly after a load of laundry and shows her how to roll them more efficiently, even doing the little tucking to keep the folds together. An don't get me started on him and Alexei testing their strength with arm wrestling. They've broken many a table with that.

He's also probably great at organization. You don't become a tactical leader for nothing! He and Bob would have an intricate shared Excel sheet of what the tower needs. Neither of them know how to use Excel the best, though, so they both try random formulas and see which works best. They refuse to google, thinking 'it can't be that hard!' Basically two dumb bitches telling each other exactlyyyyy while the entire column has an error.

Bucky and Ava absolutely debate about the most useless things. Like, not in the 'strategic mission planning' type that he and Yelena usually do (although Ava's got a say in strategy too). More like non controversial things, like if cereal was a soup, or if hotdogs are a sandwich, or if you should put water on the toothbrush before or after toothpaste. They get extremely heated about it, and Bucky enjoys the lighthearted discussions amidst the seriousness. John (like the asshole he is) will purposely say something so unhinged just to throw them both off. "I don't put it on my toothbrush—I squeeze it directly into my mouth." And boom, they have a common enemy. Punches have been thrown over this.

They take home magnets of every country/city/state/etc they visit for the tower's fridge. Doesn't matter if it's tacky or loud, they *have* to collect them. Alexei particularly likes the ones that double as bottle openers.

Bucky is banned from the kitchen. He tries to cook with Bob once, and even his mild temper is snapped with endless eye rolls and yelps from sauces being flung around. He's also not allowed to use the dishwasher there (something about cross contamination), so he just sneaks out and does it in the middle of the night. One time, Yelena caught him waiting for it with the Tired Grandpa™️ pose and they get into a staring contest. Then she slowly adds one of her knives to it and they both wait and see if it gets clean. (It does.)

They all bond over hair. They're mostly assassins, operatives, military, experiments, or wayward people, so of course, they know how to cut their own hair. But to let another person get close to you with something sharp? That kind of trust takes longer to build. They start with sharing hairties, always having an extra on their wrist in case someone needed one. Then, they get hair products on Valentina's dime. There's always a new package waiting for them. Another curl cream or hair mask. Then, they abuse the hair appliances that were bought for them like straighteners, blowdriers, and curlers. Then slowly, cutting each other's hair.

YES the Thunderbolts have a fantastic team as family dynamic, yes they are living in Avengers tower, yes history is repeating itself and 2012 tower fics are so back. BUT!

instead of "Alexei eating poptarts" or "Yelena in the vents", we must come up with new headcanons and make history

Bob always does normal domestic chores, often getting in the way of important missions and spy business. "All I'm saying is Bucky is our best sniper" "It would be a much quieter assassination if I just slipped into the condo and cut his—" "Hey sorry guys, anyone have laundry? I'm doing a load"

Yelena and her guinea pig always eat meals together at the dining table. Everyone has their Chinese food or barbeque, meanwhile the rodent is loudly munching on a salad right beside them

Bucky is the mom and always keeps them on track. "Ava you have a dentist appointment in the morning, and bring Bob so they can add him to the insurance. Lena how was therapy? Alexei, I said no vodka until dinner"

Alexei is always coming up with new promotional ideas for the team. Cartoon tv show, cereal, toothpaste flavour...every day he thinks he's come up with the next big thing. Whenever they actually get put into production (Wheaties) he collects and saves it, and won't let anyone use a different product. (He threw out Yelena's frosted flakes and it took both Bucky and John to get her to stop attacking him)

Ava likes to phase and sneak attack her teammates at random. She claims it's for training but really she just thinks it's funny hearing them scream

John gets blamed for everything, even if it isn't his fault. Especially if it isn't his fault: "who ate the last bagel?" "John." "Where's my hair straightener?" "John had it." "Whose turn is it to unload the dishwasher?" "Johnnnn"

[almostmylove]

Shatter me with your love part 7.

Synopsis: the end is the beginning of a new, you just need to figure out how to start

Warning:mentions of suicide( not much), blood, angst, neglect, child neglect

A wave to sickness hits you hard , your head feels like its jello and your mind is filled with foggyness.

Your eyes pry open yet it still feels like your eyes have been forced closed. You aren’t too sure if its because of the muck and gunk that somehow has piled onto the corners of your eyes or if it was actually glued.

Before you could think much futher something caught your sleepy eyed attention.

The celling? No, The walls. All of the walls where a soft pink color? From what you could see the whole room looked like it was adorn in pinks of different shades and other variations of colors.

Everything from curtains, lamps and chairs to more were covered a Barbie like color, the same color too similar to that awful shade of pink that complimented it very well. It looked straight out of a children’s commercial they would advertise dead afternoon but more messy and crowded, slightly similar to how you decorated your room when you were younger.

You try to stand up but your body seems to have plans to rest, stuck looking up at the ceiling with your arms at your side.

You try one last time and manage to lift your right hand up a bit, nothing more. It probably wasn’t enough to get away from who ever or what ever had put you in this pink torture room for now rest was very needed. You didn’t realize how much energy you had actually used just to lift up your hand.

It was kinda pathetic, you would smirk to yourself if you could but your face remainder stoic. If anyone…anyone…if father saw you like this he would probably scoff at you.

Speaking of him, what happened in end to them? Your mind rattled at what they could be doing right now.

Were they trying to find you? Did they caree for you? Who kidnapped you? Why did they kidnapped you and for what?

You weren’t really sure what had happened but you had an idea.

You had died.

Like actually died and now… you were here.

Somehow?

A soft exhale left your chapped lips. It was pointless anyways, they wouldn’t try and find you anyways.

Your new life has started and your old one had ended. Maybe it had been a sign from some higher power to start a new, away from them and all the pain.

Like a reset button.

It was up to you to get yourself out of here but for now a little rest was needed. And some water too.

Your eyes fluttered back closed to its former state and as your mind drifted to sleep you just hope your kidnaper wouldn’t come back by the time you woke up.

*

Mist. Its very where, blocking your vision rendering you technically blind, unable to see more then 4 feet in front of you.

Your head flicks quickly to the side as at the corner of your eye you see something moving with the fog.

It looked vaguely human but ghostly.

A audible swish passes right in-front of your head Snapping your eyes to that side where you saw it.

There it is again you say to yourself. It looked like a man from what you saw , a bit tall and lean.

It happens again but this time you are able to make out a familiar dark straight hair with tiny strands of gray hairs scatterings around the cranium.

“Father”? You called out , ever so softly. Your face scrunches up in a mix of shock,scared and a bit of disgust if you were being honest.

Why did he have to show up here. After everything he has done to!

He neglected me!

He ignored me!

And worst of all, i was the child that he never loved. It was always the Damien this. Dick that. Jason this and even Tim too!

Why couldn’t you be loved for once?

Were you really that unlovable?

Maybe Damien was right. You should of killed yourself long ago.

You were referring to a conversation that you and him had a while ago before the dinner.

Crying in your locked room, you sat quietly in the corner and crying your eyes out over a test. Your test in your hands and crumpled up completely stained with tear and scribbles of marker all over it.

It was kinda dumb now that think about it, it was only a 78 percent which was enough to get pass by with a nod from bruce.

Even tho you had a bit of training from bruce and dick, You hadn’t heard Damien come into your room and stand in front of your form, towering over you intil you heard his snobby childish voice.

“Of course,only you are weak enough to cry over trivial things such as a score on a paper.” he scoffed

You didn’t know why but you opened up to him as vulnerable as you were.

“ im sorry” , you cried, your voice shaky and unstable “ i did Everything right. I studied for days to get a full score on this but even tho i tried my best i was only been able to get less them I anticipated.”

He face palmed audibly and pinched the bridge of his nose in disgust and disappointment.

“You will never get it will you”? He questioned.

Making you look up to him and utter confusion to his questions, stopping your cries leaving an annoying hiccups and sniffles.

“No matter how hard you try you will never be better then us in any form be it skills or academic. Im not even sure how my father got a hold of you but it was clear mistake. You clearly don’t belong with us or to be part of this prestige family”

Your blood shot eyes glaze over his striking emerald green eyes that seemed to pierce thru yours,full of pure hatred and disgust.

Your voice dry and horse manages to respond with a bombastic and confused “what”?

He spoke up,only getting more annoyed by the second.

“ i shouldn’t have to clarify. This is utterly stupid and meaningless like you. You aren’t even fathers real child, i was born be talent and resilient because i am fathers real offspring”.

“ you should even mention that, everyone in this house is family one way or another blood or not we are all equal” you spit back , slightly angry at his ignorance

“ its pathetic if you think we are all on the same level. I am better them every one here with the exception of father obviously”. He voice laced with malice and bad intentions.

“ the only reason why you act like you are better then everyone is because you were breed to be the perfect heir, it not comparable to my situation!”

He scoffs loudly, almost amused in a way.

“ you are only making more excuses for your sorry ass to hide behind!”, he raise his voice but quickly restrains himself from going louder.

“ im not making any excuses!”, your pain loud and shown. You stand up on your shaking legs that had fallen asleep way before the argument. You use one of your arms as support against the wall while point at him with the other other one . Straight. at .him . which seemed to aggravate him even more.

“You don’t get to talk! I have never made excuses up! Never when i had to pull all nighter and especially never when i begged for fathers approval or when i tried to train to be( emphasis on that word) what he originally wanted me to be. A robin and partner.” You voice faded at the last word. A partner you could have been to him. a daughter.

“I can not fathom you being a robin . You would of been worse then Grayson”. He smirked “The name would of been tarnished and with that reputation i would of never wanted to be the robin. My mothe-” you stop his gloating. The more he speak the more anger and pitiful you become. You can’t stand him being in your room, criticizing you for trying yours best so you end it quickly. You are so done with his entitled bs.

“just becuase you get to grown up in a place where everyone adore you doesn’t mean you get to act like you own this place. I didnt! Even tho i have been here longer then you i still need to prove myself!” Your voice shakes in a sign of weakness.Your are too close to crying to keep talking. Its ahed enough to stop yourself from shedding more tears in front of him and talking would probably break you even more.

You did need that right now.

“ you have all the blame. you said it yourself , you have been here longer but who is the forgotten one. Im still appalled father even liked you enough to take you in.” and with that he leaves, his comments hanging in the air as you stood there, dumb founded.

His voice so momotoned compared to his hurtful comments.

He spat venom and it seemed to seep into your vain, intoxicating you. Drowning you in a sorrow that now was infecting you quicker then you had hoped.

As his body slithered out of the room like a conniving snake with quickness. he turn one last time to you with his green emerald eyes.

“ and make sure to clean the blood of your neck. Its an awful sign to see if you aren’t go through with it.”

The door slammed shut as like clock work your back slide down against the wall, landing on the floor with force.

Shit.

You cursed at yourself. Instinctively your hand went to the aprt of your neck whoch had tried. Blood on it.

You had completely forgot about when the argument happend .

Your hand losses snd a tiny sharp piece of metal dropped onto the wooden floor.

You didnt even have to look down at the state of your hand. It was eveident in the exesive amount of blood that was drooping on the side and the throbbing feeling in your hand.

It was like a mini heart beat right on the palm of your hand, ready to be crushed.

Damn Damien. Why did it have to be him to come. Why couldn’t it be some one like dick or tim.

Forgotten…

Forgotten…

Forgotten…

Those were the words that stuck with you the most. It was pointless arguing because he was simply right. He is always right.

Ever since that night, you couldn’t look at him the same, the incident of that night just keep replaying on every corner of his face.

That night you cried and cried your poor little heart out until you couldn’t anymore. You learned that no matter how much you tried you would never be better then Damien… but you sure could try. If you couldn’t get his attention by education then something else could. What if you saved a life ? Would that be good enough.

*

You bolted awake, standing up right. You breathing was labored and quick. it felt like you had just run a marathom not incldue how fast your heart was breaking, you swore you could feel it trying to escape from body, banging on your ribcage for exit.

Water. You needed water. Your mouth was dry, really dry.

You could barely speak before a glass of water magically apeaired infront of you. Taking it without any question you drank it all with aggressiveness. So aggresive infact that some of the water spilled on you but it didn’t matter nor did you care, only to clech the thirst in your blood.

“ whoa whoa whoa, calm down,looks like someone is thirsty” you heard a soft chuckle along with it.

It sounded so familiar…so similar to…

Your head snapped to the your side where a short haired woman sat.

“ catwoman?”

[mountttmase]

When You Know - Part 3

Note - I think I’m starting to blur the lines between fic and blurb as these are getting longer each time 😭 please don’t hate our baby too much even though he deserves it 😭 feedback is appreciated as always 🩷

Pairing - Mason Mount x Reader

Word count - 3.6k

Warnings - Angst

If there was one thing you wished you hadn't done that first night you were home with Freddie was sit on your phone and look through instagram for a bit once Freddie had been fed and you’d caught up with everything you needed to.

Ignorance is bliss they always say.

He’d told you he was going to an event. That Benny had set it up and he couldn’t back out but as you flicked through everyone’s stories from the day you felt your heart stop as you clicked on ones from a girl you used to work with.

It was fairly obvious to you it was him, the same t-shirt he’d come to pick you up in and those shorts were a Christmas present you’d gifted him just nine months ago when everything seemed so different.

You weren’t really friends with the girl anymore, losing contact after you quit your job for a better opportunity but you’d seen her on nights out before and she had always seemed interested about yours and Mason’s relationship. Now you probably knew why as she’d had the eyes for him but you never figured he’d want the same.

The thought of looking at another man was not something that was in the agenda for you right now and if you were being honest with yourself you weren’t sure if ever would be. You were still unbelievably hurt by everything that had gone down between you and Mason, living in denial for the most part and believing that this would all be over soon and he’d come back to you but this was a kick in the teeth. Seeing him with other girls wasn’t something you’d thought about happening as everything still felt so fresh but there he was and you didn’t know what to do about it.

You knew it was him before you opened it, this weird feeling in your gut whenever he messaged and whilst the sight of his name lighting up your phone used to fill you with butterflies, now it was only dread.

His wording frustrated you, knowing It’s not that he didn’t want to cause a bother, he just didn’t want to be there if either yours or his families were around as he knew both sets of parents were mad at him and it would be easier for him to just avoid everyone.

Thankfully, you had the morning to yourself as everyone was planning on coming over in the afternoon to give you some time to settle in and whilst you were looking forward to some alone time with your little squish, Mason was Freddie’s father and you weren’t about to deny him time with his son.

So you told him you were free until two and he promised he’d be over shortly. You didn’t bother tidying up or making yourself look presentable as you knew it didn’t matter and when there was a knock on your door 15 minutes later, you let him in with a stoic look.

‘Hey’ he smiled, clearly not picking up on any awkwardness on your end so you just nodded him in and shut the door behind him. Leading him into the living room where he was straight over to Freddie so he could pick him up and hold him to his chest.

You wanted to scream your lungs out. To cuss him out for not caring about Freddie at all last night and putting his own needs over his two day old sons but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. Instead taking a different route to let him know you knew what he’d been up to and to hopefully make him sweat a bit.

‘So how was your event last night?’ You asked him after you’d gotten him some water and set it down on the coffee table.

‘Oh yeah, it was good thanks’ he smiled, his face not giving anything away as he lied through his teeth and you knew you’d have to keep pushing him.

‘Yeah? What was it for again?’

‘Some new game that’s coming out’

‘Oh really? Sounds like a big deal’ you nodded as he shrugged but you didn’t give him the satisfaction of telling you anymore lies. ‘Not something I would have worn shorts to but hey, that’s your decision. The pizza looked good though’ you nodded and you saw his face drop instantly as he clocked on that you’d figured him out. ‘I can’t believe they’d hold a gaming event at Maya’s house too, that seems super impractical’

‘Y/n I can explain-’

‘What’s to explain? You lied and spent the first night your first child was at home with another woman’ you shrugged sarcastically, getting more and more agitated as he tried to argue with you about it.

‘But-’

‘The first night, your first child was home, Mason’ you practically growled at him through gritted teeth as your eyes filled with tears, no longer willing to hide how you were feeling behind jokes. ‘How could you do that to him?’

‘Oh give over, it’s not like he even knows what planet he’s on right now let alone if I was here or not’ he scoffed and you couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth.

‘But you did know, that’s the point. Things are different now, you can’t just do what you want all the time you need to have different priorities’

‘I didn’t come here for a lecture on how to live my life. You don’t get to decide that anymore’

‘I never did! You’ve always done things your way, that’s why we’re in this mess right now’

‘I think you need to calm down’

‘Yeah well I think you need to leave’ you told him, standing up so you could walk him out be he still sat there with Freddie asleep on him. ‘I’ll sort a schedule out and and we’ll go from there’

‘No, I won’t-‘

You cut Mason off with a loud gasp. Your hands flying to your tummy as a large shooting pain traveled through you and knocked the wind out of you and you didn’t know what to do next. Turning away from him so he didn’t get the satisfaction of looking at you in pain but the words that came out of his mouth sounded soft and sincere.

‘Are you okay? What’s wrong?’

‘Oh like you give a shit’ you spoke through gritted teeth, not in the mood for him suddenly to be a nice person. ‘I’m fine, just go’ you whimpered.

‘No, I’m here now and I want to see my boy. You’re obviously in pain so why don’t you go and lay down and I’ll look after him for a bit’ he offered and you knew you needed to say yes. You were exhausted and even though you were furious you didn't want to stop Mason from seeing his son, so without another word to him you left the room and popped upstairs to have a lie down.

You obviously needed a nap as you were practically asleep as soon as your head touched the pillow for well over an hour. Waking up to a cold bottle of water and a packet of your favourite biscuits on your bedside table as well as some painkillers but there was no time to sit and think about any nice gestures as the noise from downstairs had your attention straight away.

The sound of Freddie’s cries always made your tummy twist, but you also knew it was a sound you would have to get used to. His wailes echoing through the house and you got up as quickly as your body would let you to make your way downstairs, finding Mason doing laps of your living room as he tried to comfort Freddie who was balled up on his chest.

‘He won’t stop’ he gulped as his eyes caught yours. ‘I’ve changed his nappy so it’s definitely not that, I don’t know what else-’

‘He’s probably hungry’ you told him flatly. ‘I’ll go and grab his bottle’

Mason nodded to the sofa as you came back in and you could see he was getting ready to transfer Freddie over to you so you got comfortable before taking him in your arms. Settling him down so he was nice and comfy before you popped the lid to feed him. His cries stopped instantly and you could feel Mason relax as well as he hovered next to you just by the arm of the chair. Eventually kneeling next to the sofa so he could look at Freddie but you could see there was still a cloud of worry all over his face.

‘I didn’t think about him being hungry, how stupid am I?’ He chuckled, eventually leaning his elbow on the arm so he could get a better look at him and for the next five minutes you sat in a slightly uncomfortable silence as you watched him feed.

‘I’ll get out of your hair now, if you want’ he told you quietly but all you could do was shrug. Not liking the way he would constantly use the excuse of being in the way as a reason to be apart from the pair of you but you needed to get used to figuring out how to do things on your own so you just nodded and kept your eyes on Freddie.

You almost let out a smile when Mason pressed his lips to the crown of Freddie’s head, but when he did the same to you, you froze in shock. Your tear filled eyes following him out the room and only when you heard the door shut behind him did you take a shaky breath out.

This was proving to be a lot harder than you anticipated and it was only the first day. Your expectations that Mason might pull himself together for his son were out the window and as the months dragged on he only got worse.

You had Freddie every night and that’s how you’d agreed for it to go from the start with his job, but Freddie was three months old the first time he took him for a few hours on his own. You wondered if he was just nervous and unsure of how to look after him but you had been the same in the beginning and you’d powered through it.

The fact he did so little made you appreciate the things he did do but when you finally cottoned on to the way he wasn’t putting effort in you felt that same resentment return. Thankfully both sets of grandparents were angels and as the weeks went by you saw more of Debbie than you ever did of Mason. You didn’t mind though as she seemed to be the only person you could really speak to about your frustrations with him as she had the exact same ones and it felt good to be heard and understood.

As the weeks went on you felt more and more like a single parent. Freddie’s big milestones you celebrated just the two of you and as he grew before your eyes you revelled in the fact you really did have a little best friend for life and no matter what the future held.

It was in the rare occasions that Mason did have Freddie you felt the worst. You never wanted this and you most definitely never wanted this for Freddie either as your dream was always to have him grow up in a happy and stable home with both parents who loved him and each other more than anything. But when he was gone you felt like you were missing a part of yourself and you spent your time going through the motions until he was back to give your life purpose.

In all the years you’d known Mason, you’d never known him to be as flakey as he was starting to be. Plans made to look after Freddie fell through more times than they happened and you were just thankful Freddie didn’t understand how much his dad was letting him down.

Freddie was nine months old when it came to a head. It was the morning the first time Mason was going to take him for a few days back home to Portsmouth and you were sat in the living room with his little bag packed alongside yours as you’d booked yourself a little staycation as a distraction from being away from him.

Mason should have been arriving in just under an hour and you were sat in the sofa having a nonsensical chat with Freddie when you felt your phone buzz.

‘I’m so sorry, baby’ you whispered as you picked Freddie back up and held him to your chest. ‘It doesn’t matter though, you can come with me on my trip, okay? We’ll go to the seaside and play on the beach and I’ll win you a toy on the pier’ you giggled, trying to laugh through your tears as you were so upset for him. ‘It doesn’t matter that he can’t have you cause I’ll give you everything you need, poppet. I always will’

The good thing was he was all packed already so you got everything in the car and got on the road. It took a little longer now Freddie was with you as you had to make extra stops but you made it to your little home for the week in good time and after a quick run to do the food shop you were eating dinner with him on your lap as you watched the sun set into the sea.

You didn’t hear from Mason at all during your week and you weren’t sure if you were happy or annoyed about it, but in the moment you didn’t didn’t let it bring you down. Doing everything you told Freddie you would do by spending your days on the beach and taking him for a swim before playing on the sand. Thinking Mason going away was actually a blessing in disguise as you knew you were having way more fun with Freddie here than you ever would have had alone and and after a few days you felt even more energised.

The last full day of your trip the pair of you decided on a lie in. Freddie was curled up in a ball with his head on your shoulder as you flicked through the usual apps on your phone but as you made it to instagram you noticed you had way more messages than usual.

You didn’t know what it was, but you knew in soul that something wasn’t right and you’d felt it all morning so when you noticed al the messages in your inbox you knew it wasn’t something good.

It was a regular thing when you and Mason were together for people to send you articles about him and even more so when you’d split up and it wasn’t public yet but it had been a few months since the last one. Mason was always out on the weekends and linked with different people but you’d become numb to the whole situation and didn’t want to read them anymore.

This morning was different though and as you clicked through the random messages you saw they were all sending you the same link. Eventually clicking on one to see what the fuss was all about but once you had you wished you had the power to go back in time and delete it from your memory.

That same sticky uncomfortable feeling washed over you like it always did when you had to read something like this. Waves of heat rippling through you as your heart thudded uncontrollably and you wished you’d just ignored your phone completely today.

You didn’t know what to think, he wasn’t your problem anymore but the fact he’d skipped out on a week with his son for a week in Italy to seemily shag every girl in sight made your heart break for your son. You would drop any plans and do whatever you needed to do to be there for him but his dad didn’t play by the same rules.

As much as you told yourself it didn’t matter and he was free to see who he wanted it still stung. The thought of even looking at another man was off the cards for you but clearly the same didn’t apply to him and it seemed to be the final nail in the coffin for you. You had way more respect for yourself than he clearly did and if this is how he wanted to play it then you’d finally wash your hands with him.

So you did what you always did. Dragged yourself out of your pit of misery and poured your focus into your boy in hopes he’d never feel an ounce of hurt like you currently were.

The salty sea air felt warm as it brushed against your skin, making the hairs on your arms stand up on end as the sun bore down on you and as you felt yourself begin to warm up, you covered Freddie up a little more so he was shielded from the light.

He was currently sat on your lap with his head on your chest, his little arms and legs either side of you with his front pressed to yours as he snoozed away peacefully and your need to protect him from everyone and everything was swimming through your veins as you thought over everything that had happened this morning.

When your phone started buzzing you knew it was him without even looking. Your eyes glancing down to see his name filling your screen as he tried to call you but you just let it ring off as you were in no mood to talk to him. That didn’t stop him though and you sat for a good 20 minutes as he called and called and called but you held your ground and ignored him even though you wanted to answer and tear him a new one.

He eventually stopped, a brief 20 minutes of relief as your phone remained silent but when it went off again you couldn’t help but look to see if it was him. You were met with something different this time though, a sweet picture of Freddie as a tiny baby laid in Debbie’s arms with her name flashing above it and even though you really weren’t in the mood to talk to anyone you knew you couldn’t ignore her.

‘Hiya love, everything okay?’ She asked, her voice just as warm and comforting as usual and as far as you could tell she didn’t sound off at all making you think she had no idea about your whole morning's ordeal.

‘Hey Debbie, yeah fine thanks. You?’

‘Yeah all good here’ she grinned but the beat of silence just after made you stiffen in worry. ‘Listen, Mason just called me. He’s been trying to get a hold of you all morning but he can’t get through?’

‘Oh yeah… um’ you croaked. Rolling your eyes just after as you were so annoyed with yourself for not holding together for longer but she’d heard you upset now and there was nothing you could do about it.

‘Y/n? What’s wrong hun?’

‘Sorry’ you blubbed, no longer caring about holding it together. ‘Mason was meant to have Freddie for a few days and I booked myself a little get away but he cancelled the morning he was meant to pick him up and I’ve brought Freddie with me. I guess just after that article this morning I-‘

‘What article?’ She questioned and you almost laughed that he’s obviously forgotten to tell her that crucial but of information when he’s called her up just before.

‘Just search his name, you’ll see’ it you laughed and you could just about hear her sigh on the other end.

‘Where are you?’

‘Isle of wight’ you laughed. ‘Sorry I know it’s super close, I was actually planning on dropping in with Freddie on the way home tomorrow if you were around?’

‘Of course I am, just get here whenever you like okay? I’ll make lunch for you both’

‘Thank you’ you whispered, thankful that you had someone like her in your life and after a quick chat she let you go. Clearly eager to call Mason back after she’d looked him up and you felt a slight sense of achievement knowing he was about to get told off.

You had a quiet night in for your last night. Packing up all your things after you’d put Freddie down for the night with his little stuffed crab you’d won him on the claw machine and even though this week hadn't been what you’d planned you wouldn’t change it for the world. There was the small issue of Mason but you decided to put that to the back of your mind until you pulled up outside his parents house around 11am the next day.

Tony was first to greet you and after a quick hug he’d taken Freddie off and inside for some playtime but as soon as you clocked eyes with Debbie your felt your walls crumble.

‘You’re okay’ she whispered into your hair as she held you. Her sympathetic voice only upset you more and as your quiet sobs shook through your whole body it hit you that this was Mason's mum and you know you should be putting on a brave face for her. She had always treated you like her own though and you knew she cared for you so as she pulled you inside you forgot everything and let yourself finally feel everything you’d been holding on for months.

y/n

liked by masonmount, lulu546, ellie_xo and others

y/n When life gives you lemons 🍋

view more comments

lulu546 the sweetest lemon I ever did see 🥹 I just wanna eat him up

y/n how I haven’t taken a bite out of him yet I’ll never know

debbiemount60 what a gorgeous little man 🥺 can’t wait to see you both tomorrow!

y/n us too! Freddie is so excited to see everyone 🩷

lew.mount I hope he’s in the mood for uncle cuddles 🥰

y/n he always is! But I’ll take one too if you’re offering 😂

[cornliastreett]

ALREADY OVER ⎯⎯ chapter one

george clarke x singer!reader

NAVIGATION !

ALREADY OVER MASTERLIST !

NEXT CHAPTER

001. NOTE

before i say anything, this fic is starting in 2022! i plan to have lots of time jumps so will end up in 2025 probably but it is starting in 2022.

i have tried my hardest to get accurate dates and times for things but i've also had to move things around for things to make sense so if the date of something is wrong, it is probably on purpose.

hope you guys enjoy! taglist is at the bottom of this chapter!

The music blasting through the room was enough to cause a headache, mix that with the unlimited alcohol from the free bar, Y/N could guarantee she would wake up the next day with a sore head. But that was the least of her worries as she enjoyed the company of most of her friends.

The Sidemen had thrown a party celebrating the release of their own vodka, XIX. So most of Y/N’s friends were in attendance, considering most of her friends she had made through those 7 men she could now call her own friends.

The last 4 years of living in London and getting to know all of the incredible people around her was a dream come true. She never expected a place she once loathed to become her home, and now Y/N couldn't imagine ever leaving.

Y/N couldn't even say she enjoyed visiting her home town anymore. There was nothing for her back in Pennsylvania, except for her mother but the two didn't really have the best relationship anymore. Everything she needed was in London. The amazing people around her reminded her everyday that she made the right choice moving to London fresh out of high school.

One person in particular being Talia Mar. The older woman had taken Y/N under her wing pretty soon after she moved to London and they had been inseperable since. They had a bond that was for forever.

But Talia and the other girls Y/N had met through her weren't the only ones keeping Y/N in London.

When Y/N was sixteen she had met Isla. She had been in London visiting her dad for the summer, just like she had done every year since she was twelve. She and her sisters were spending the day at their father’s house in Kensington, bored out of their minds on a quiet Monday morning in August while he was at work. Their stepmother was home, but busy with clients, moving in and out of her office since before the girls had even gotten out of bed.

Just before lunch, one of her stepmother’s clients arrived—this time with her daughter in tow. She’d apologised repeatedly, explaining she couldn’t find a babysitter because of the school holidays. Her daughter, Isla, was fourteen at the time. Seeing an opportunity to keep the girl entertained, their stepmother asked Y/N and her sisters to keep her company.

From that very moment, Isla and Y/N hit it off. Best friends instantly, like it had been meant to happen.

They exchanged numbers and made plans to hang out a few more times before Y/N flew back home to Pennsylvania. They kept in touch over the following year, messaging and calling until the next summer rolled around—Y/N was seventeen, Isla fifteen. Their friendship grew stronger with each visit, till Y/N moved in with her father after graduating high school.

Between this and the time Isla had turned eighteen, Y/N had met Mabel. She had met her at an event she'd attended with Talia. Mabel had just gotten into acting and didn't really have any friends in the entertainment industry. So, Y/N befriended her, taken her under her wing and six months later, Y/N, Isla and Mabel were moving in together.

Y/N didn't know what she would do without them, and she wasn't ever planning on finding out.

Y/N had been scanning the room for Talia and Freya when she had spotted Chris, as he stood at the bar with a few people Y/N couldn't quite make out. It had been a while since she’d seen him, so instead of continuing her search, she made a beeline straight for Chris, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips. Slipping through the crowd, she crept up behind him and gave his sides a quick pinch. Chris jolted in surprise, whipping around, and the moment he saw her, his face lit up. Y/N burst into laughter, thoroughly amused by his reaction.

"I should have known that was you." Chris said, bringing Y/N into a tight embrace. Despite the fact Chris wasn't the tallest of people, Y/N still had to go on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around Chris' shoulders comfortably. "I can't believe how long it's been since I last saw you." It had to have been at least 4 months since the two had seen each other.

Y/N had met Chris back when she had moved to London in 2017. When Y/N had become friends with Talia practically as soon as she had moved that summer, she had been quick to introduce the younger girl to all of her friends. That was when Y/N had met Tobi, and then eventually the rest of the Sidemen and all of their friends. And Y/N liked to think she got along really well with everyone.

"I know, it's been too long." Y/N said, pulling away from the man but keeping her hands on the sides of his arms. "How have you been?"

"I've been good." Chris nodded, still smiling. "How about you? Shannon told me you've been working on new music." He added, remembering how his girlfriend had spoken about Y/N recently. Y/N had met Shannon around the same time she had met Chris and had instantly clicked with her. The two often having girls days together with Mia and Becky.

"Yeah, I'm really good. Been in the studio a bit recently." As Y/N had said this, a familiar distinctive laughter filled her ears. She removed her hands from Chris' arms and turned slightly to the left. "Is that Arthur Televisions laugh I can hear?" Y/N would have recognised that laugh anywhere.

Chris let out a laugh as he reached out next to him to nudge Arthur and gain his attention. The taller man had his back to them so hadn't seen Y/N. When he turned around, that was when Y/N could see the rest of the group Chris had been standing with. Arthur Frederick, Josh Larkin and a man Y/N had never seen before.

"Y/N!" Arthur exclaimed, a large smile on his face. He pulled the giggling girl into a hug, rocking her back and forth. He had clearly had a few drinks already.

"Hey Arthur." Y/N giggled, hugging the older man back.

"Did Chris get you over here to make himself look taller?" The voice of Josh (Chip) caused Y/N and Arthur to break away from each other.

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully and laughed. "It's the only reason he ever has me around." Y/N joked, stepping away from Arthur and towards Josh to give him a hug. "Did you leave Sabina at home?"

"Yeah the missus stayed at home." Josh said, giving the blonde girl quick hug. Y/N pouted at his response before she turned to the unfamilar face. But before she could say anything, before she could introduce herself, Chris had stepped in.

"Y/N/N, this is George." Chris said, gesturing to the brown haired man. "George, this is Y/N."

Y/N couldn’t remember ever meeting a man who looked at her the way George did, like she was both a mystery and the answer all at once. It made her want to giggle like a nervous schoolgirl, though she did her best to keep it together as their eyes locked. His eyes were gorgeous.

"Nice to meet you, George." Y/N said, extending her hand with a warm smile. She thought she had caught a flicker of hesitation in his eyes before he reached out to shake it—just a split second too long. It struck her as odd, but she brushed it off, keeping her expression bright and unfazed.

"Yeah, you too."

What Y/N didn't know was that George had recognised her instantly. he'd seen her on the Sidemen channel before—she’d popped up in one of their Tinder videos, roasted them in Strangers Roast the Sidemen, and featured on more collabs than he could count. Ever since becoming friends with Chris and the wider Sidemen circle, George had heard her name come up more times than he cared to admit.

But none of that had prepared him for meeting her in person.

There was something about the way she carried herself—effortless but captivating—that had George slightly off balance. It wasn’t nerves exactly, more like awareness. The kind you get when someone important enters a room and your instincts tell you to pay attention. And standing just a few feet away from her, that instinct was ringing loud and clear.

“So, how do you guys know each other?” she asked, glancing between the four men.

Chris was halfway through a sip when he grinned, as though he could read George's thoughts. “We met at a shoot a few months ago, he's basically one of us now."

"So, George,” Y/N said, turning her attention back to him, “how’s it been, surviving your initiation into the Sidemen circle?”

George smiled, trying not to sound too eager. “Chaotic. But fun. Never a dull moment with this lot.”

Y/N laughed, the sound light and warm. "You get used to it. After a while, it's strange when it isn't chaotic. But you have to learn how to say no with these guys. They'll get you to do anything if they know you'll say yes everytime."

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, eyes locking with hers for a brief moment.

Something flickered between them—curiosity, maybe. Or something more.

She held his gaze a second longer than necessary before turning back to Chris. George took a slow sip of his drink, trying to play it cool. But inside, something had shifted.

And he had a feeling that night was just the beginning.

yourusername posted a photo !

liked by taliamar, behzingagram and 503,203 others

yourusername life lately (and it's been pretty cool)

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tagged taliamar miniminter bambinobecky geenelly

user NEW MUSIC???????

user simon <33

user picture of simon? bit weird

↳ user imagine your best friend posting a picture of your boyfriend in a photo dump on instagram

↳ user y/n is really close with talia AND simon, why is it weird she took a photo of him at a party that they all attended?

user y/n's relationship with talia and simon gives me life

yourusername guys, the picture of simon was from the xix launch party, don't be weird about it

taliamar just a girl and her baguette

❤️ by yourusername

bambinobecky adam sandler vibes are strong in the last photo

❤️ by yourusername

user new music soon please 😢

chrismd10 did your clothes stop fitting you in the last photo because you’re so tiny

↳ yourusername you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you christopher

freyanightingale pretty girl

❤️ by yourusername

mabelparker not part of the photo dump? okay

↳ yourusername only photo's i've taken of you recently are you in the apartment napping

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georgeclarkeey liked this post !

ALREADY OVER TAGLIST !

tags: @lottiewills @sophiexxclarkey @sundarksposts @rkaya @lovingaphroditesworld @theresglitteronthefloor @golden-hoax @duolingofanaccount @courtjjade @dopeysunflowers @tyna-19 @madforgeorge @just-yazz

[let-spretend]

hey…. so i’m back to rid of the urge to write a bob x reader ..

i will keep writing until my creative juices run out !!!! second part in the works !!!!

edit: i got rid of the weirdly big spaces but idk if it looks worse now

heavy space between us pt. 1

The New Avengers' paperwork lines the communal table, you, diligently filling it out for the team. It had been a bit of a blur the past few months, being thrown into this new team and working together to protect citizens. It gave you a new purpose, rather than the necessary killings you needed to do to protect yourself, you could channel that expertise for the benefit of good and getting paid. But, you were simply getting tired. Physically straining yourself everyday: practicing, training, working out and doing your hero job, it was starting to catch up to you. Though the others have experienced many of the hurt you have, it was difficult to open up to them and you felt yourself lagging behind, despite the Void incident bringing you a bit closer. You were the only one still reluctant to share your past fully to the team. They knew and you knew it as well. Throwing yourself into work helped you feel connected with them in a way, and deserving of this position.

You punch in some numbers into the calculator about some living costs and upcoming expenses that need to be made. Your left hand meets your hair, scratching at it as some stress reliever. It feels warm.

Soft shuffling could be heard to your left, indicating someone approaching the dining area you were occupying. “Y/N?” Bob asks, groggily. You turn to see him rubbing his eyes, adjusting to the half-dimmed lights over the dining table. His hair was disheveled, him still in his simple matching PJ set. You cock your head to the right, wondering why he was awake this early in the morning.

“What’s up?” You say. “Just workin’ on some taxes and other things.” His eyes trail over to the mess of papers and slightly ajar laptop.

“Do you.. want some help?” He asks. His voice was now much clearer, a sign he’d woken up indubitably. He looked hesitant about asking, afraid of being pushed away like he constantly was. But you remember him always wanting and willing to help around the tower. This, being one of the rare things he could actually help with. You honestly didn’t want him to. Not in the sense that he’d slow you down or otherwise, but this extra work and feeling like you were contributing, was all you had right now. You look down at the papers. Still so much left to do.

Though your sense of contentment would be diminished, you realize he was feeling and thinking the same way you do.

“Sure. Come here.” You beckon. His mouth contorts into a content smile and happily takes the seat next to you. “We have to calculate our incomes, health insurance, assets, etc. for our AGI. If we’re eligible, use the IRS’ tax software with my laptop. Sound good?” He nods silently and gets straight to work. You stand up and he looks over to you, assuming you’re going to leave him. His eyebrows knit together a bit, confused. “I’m just going to make coffee for us, don’t worry.” You coolly state.

He gets a bit sheepish, for you having figured him out. So you give him a small smile.

Everything felt a bit fuzzy while you were putting together the coffee. You were sure as soon as you got a sip in you would be fine. You were brewing up a simple Americano for yourself, first putting the hot water into your cup. The sound of the boiled water hitting the bottom of the mug lulls you.

You don’t notice your hand burning until it begins to sting. You peer down to see your left hand directly on the kettle. Slowly removing your hand, the palm appeared red. Huh, I should've instinctively.. “Uh, cold brew, right?” You ask, with uncertainty laced in your guess. You decide to just ignore that mishap. You just need to get the coffee done.

The top of his head becomes his face, his side bangs covering his eyes. He brushes them out his face with his right hand, pencil still in grip.

”Yeah! I’m surprised you remember.” He laughs.

Toward the beginning of the new team formation of “The New Avengerz,” you all had gotten roughed up by some sort of villain attack on the city. Bob had offered to get you all coffee to lighten up the mood. You shrug a tiny bit, remembering that day. He really is just someone nice to have around.

You really didn’t care to measure, lazily filling in the portafilter and locking it into place for your Americano. You peer into the fridge for Bob’s cold brew and sigh. No cold foam.. You were just going to skip it and just serve it to him blank, but his hard-working form makes your body do otherwise. His back slightly hunched, engrossed in working for the team. Sighing again, you take the heavy cream and milk out of the fridge and eyeball their measurements into a cup. Substituting vanilla syrup with some extract, you stir it with a spoon gently. You never said it was going to be good, or even ideal. You mentally faceplant, looking at the almost whipped texture.

Tamping your coffee clumsily, you place it back into the machine once more, starting the shot. Your hand feels as if it were beeping, reminding you of its mild burn. You watch the coffee begin to pour into the cup, lightly splashing as it meets the hot water. The once clear water begins to turn into a soft brown, the aroma of fresh coffee hitting your nose. It smelled like this in the coffee shop Bob took you all to.

“It smells really good, Y/N!” He comments. It brings you out of your trance and reminds you to finish making his drink. You briefly look over to him to acknowledge his comment. Taking out a tall glass, you pour his cold brew and top it with the mildly sweet cold “foam”. It sat with a little curl on the top.

Your espresso was beginning to blond, so you stopped yours and grabbed them both to the table. It stung to even hold the handle to your mug.

“Wow, it looks so good!” Bob says, happily taking the cold brew from you. He takes a second to admire the generous amount of cream. He takes a little sip and widens his eyes to show you it was delicious. “Thank you so much, Y/N.” You try to look at his eyes, but the cold foam on his upper lip distracts you greatly. He looks at your distracted eyes, searching for where your attention was. You could see his face visibly flush from your staring.

“Something on my face?” He stutters. Bob’s left hand reaches for his cheek as he attempts to get rid of whatever you were looking at. Instinctively, your right hand goes to his lip to wipe off the cold foam. His whole body stiffens, his eyes on your hand.

“Got it.” You say.

Looking at your finger, you realize you never got the chance to taste your concoction. Licking the foam off your finger, it was a little on the sweeter side. You didn’t mind it though.

“Haah.. Right. Thank you.” He darts his eyes away, continuing sipping on his drink.

-

Even with the cold brew reinforcement, sleep had won over Bob’s body. There were still a couple more documents that needed to be filled out, but the throbbing in your hand was becoming too much. First, draping a small blanket over Bob’s shoulders, you stroll over to the bathroom. A small medkit was hiding behind the mirror over the sink, where you had last supplied it. Mainly for the others.

The antibiotic ointment felt cool on your hand, contrary to how it felt wrapping it. It was weird. It obviously hurt, but it felt oddly freeing, reminding you why you were still here and serving along with your team. Squeezing your left fulfilled this urge. Not good.

You return to Bob still soundly sleeping on the table. You squeeze your fist a bit. You want to try harder for him, the team. You scootch into the chair as quietly as you could without moving it. He stirs a bit when you shuffle the papers, but remains asleep. The finished papers were in a neat pile, done by Bob. Without him, it would’ve taken you an extra day to finish. The few that littered the table motivated you to keep on going this stretch.

When you finished up, it was about 5 in the morning and the others would soon begin their routines. Wanting to let Bob get a few more hours of sleep in, you carefully lift him up into the air. Your power was to control and manipulate blood. It normally didn’t take so much effort to do so, but a strain was beginning to form in your mind. Despite the nuisance, he continues to float over to his bedroom, landing softly into his bed. You could tell he was in a completely relaxed mood by his palpitations. Feeling the blood coursing through his veins, it signaled his livelihood. Though, he always felt awfully heavy, you assume due to his added void personality.

He snuggles into his familiar bedding subconsciously, you covering his body with his light gray duvet. It was weird. You felt warm again.

“What are you doing?”

You turn around to see Yelena peering into Bob’s room. Rather than her usual suited getup, she was in workout clothes. She made no footsteps, deeply contrasting Bob’s slight drags of feet when he entered the dining room. She must’ve been the reason you felt something was off.

“He was helping with the paperwork. Fell asleep doin’ ‘em.” You say.

Yelena’s reaction seemed as though disappointed but still suspicious, as if she were trying to catch you in an embarrassing act. You never really found these “miscommunications” embarrassing because they simply weren’t true and you stood on that.

“Bucky wanted me to tell you, you have a mission with him and my father in 10 minutes. Sudden reports of a disturbance in the upstate area.” Yelena reports. You nod, thanking her for the heads up. She looks down to your bandaged hand and questions if you were in optimal shape for the sudden mission. “We Powerless need to be in our best condition in order to keep ourselves and others safe.

”Well, it’s not supposed to be urgent or dire, right? I have Bucky and Alexi, don’t worry.” Waving her off. She sighs. You forget you haven’t told or revealed your powers to anyone in the group yet. You hadn’t found the need to, your hand-to-hand being one of your more controlled and trained traits.

With what came with your powers, was self-destruction. Lifting one living person barely needed thought until you straight on stopped using them unless necessary. Where your powers are at their most optimal, was complete exposure and vulnerability - freshly drawn blood. Blood when contained in the body or other containments, means extra weight and concentration. Though you say you can only lift one person now, when you were at your peak, killing, anything conceivable was possible. Your powers came with the need to access fresh blood as much as you could for your benefit. To be cut when you need to. To be willing to.

There was only one person always at your disposal to do so. But it’s not like you really had a choice, was there?

[sturniololuvz]

Could you do one where their little sister is learning to drive and Matt’s teaching her but she hits a curb or something and he goes mad and starts screaming and makes her cry, and when they get home Chris goes to comfort her in her room whilst Nick shouts at Matt for making her cry and eventually he apologises

“The Curb Incident”

Matt wasn’t a bad teacher.

But he was a terrible passenger.

“Okay, slowly ease into the turn,” he said, pointing at the intersection. “Watch the curb—watch it—Y/N!”

Thud.

She winced as the tire bumped hard into the curb. Not over it — but enough to make the whole car jolt.

Matt’s hands flew up. “What did I just say?! I told you to watch the curb! Were you even listening?!”

“I was!” she said, eyes wide, hands still frozen on the wheel. “I just—”

“You’re not even paying attention, Y/N! You can’t just drift into the turn like that! You could’ve popped the tire! Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?!”

Her bottom lip trembled. “I’m trying, Matt.”

He scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “Well, trying doesn’t matter when you’re behind the wheel. You mess up here, people get hurt. You wanna learn how to drive? Then take it seriously.”

She blinked fast, trying to push back tears, but one slipped anyway.

“Pull over,” Matt muttered.

She did.

The ride home was dead silent — except for her sniffles as she stared straight ahead, fists clenched on her lap.

When they got home, she didn’t say a word. She just rushed inside, straight to her room, slamming the door behind her.

Matt walked into the kitchen, still visibly frustrated.

Nick looked up from the counter. “What happened?”

“She hit the curb,” Matt said, pouring a glass of water like it would wash the annoyance out of his mouth.

Nick raised an eyebrow. “Okay… and why is she crying upstairs like you just ruined her entire existence?”

“I corrected her. Loudly. Maybe. But she needs to learn how serious driving is.”

Nick’s face darkened. “You yelled at her?”

“She could’ve damaged the car!”

“She’s sixteen, Matt. She’s learning. You think yelling’s gonna make her better, or just scare her into never wanting to try again?”

Matt sighed, defensive. “I didn’t mean to make her cry.”

Nick stepped closer, voice low. “Go apologize.”

“I—”

“Go. Now.”

⸻

Upstairs, Chris had already knocked once. She didn’t answer.

So he cracked the door open.

She was curled up under a blanket, hoodie pulled over her head, tears still fresh on her cheeks.

“Hey, kid,” he said softly. “Can I come in?”

She shrugged.

Chris sat down on the edge of her bed and gently rubbed her back through the blanket. “Nick told me what happened. You okay?”

“No.”

Chris waited.

“I was doing good,” she said through a tight voice. “I practiced parking and turning all week. I was trying, Chris. And then I hit the stupid curb, and he just—he acted like I’d crashed the car into a wall.”

Chris sighed. “Matt gets panicky sometimes. You know how tightly he holds onto control. But that doesn’t mean he was right to yell. You are trying. And you’re doing better than most kids your age.”

“He made me feel like I shouldn’t even try again.”

Chris frowned, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Don’t let one bad moment take away your confidence. You’re allowed to mess up. That’s how we learn.”

She nodded slowly, still curled into herself.

Just then, there was a knock.

Matt peeked in.

His face was already filled with guilt.

“Hey,” he said, voice quieter than usual. “Y/N, I’m really sorry.”

She didn’t answer.

“I overreacted. That’s on me. You didn’t deserve to be yelled at for something as small as hitting a curb. And I should’ve been more patient. I was scared, and I handled it the wrong way. I’m sorry I made you feel like you shouldn’t drive again.”

Chris gave her a small look, letting her decide.

Finally, she peeked out from the blanket and muttered, “It really hurt my feelings, Matt.”

“I know,” he said immediately. “And I hate that I made you feel that way. You’re doing great, Y/N. Seriously. I shouldn’t have made you feel small.”

She gave him a tiny, watery nod. “Okay.”

Matt stepped forward and wrapped her in a careful hug. “Wanna practice again this weekend? I’ll be better, promise.”

She sniffled. “Only if you don’t scream.”

“I’ll bring a stress ball.”

Chris chuckled. “And I’ll follow behind in case one of you drives off a cliff.”

She laughed — soft, but real.

And just like that, things felt a little lighter again.

⸻

[goodlucktai]

hold the world to its best (6/?)

rottmnt word count: 2k pairing: raph & OC title borrowed from light by sleeping at last part of the archer au

(prev) (next)

x

The storm rolls in later than the forecast called for, starting in earnest the next afternoon. 

The first crack of thunder is so loud, even underground, that it makes everyone jump and Mikey almost fumbles the huge mixing bowl of eggs he’s whisking. It even startles SHELLDON awake from the nap he was taking in the charging dock in the corner. The string of beeps he lets out must be something pretty foul in binary, because Donnie whips around as quick as a snake. 

“Watch your language in front of the impressionable youth!” he yells after his kid, who makes a quick escape down the hall. 

Raph’s about to step into the line of fire for his robot nephew’s sake and point out the obvious—that none of them have half an idea what SHELLDON said, let alone the four-year-old among them—but Leo beats him to the punch.

“Uhhhhh speaking of the impressionable youth,” the slider says, “where’s George?”

“He’s right—oh,” Mikey stops short. His tiny spotted helper has vanished from where he had been parked on the stool pushed up to the counter. 

Mikey puts his bowl down and joins Leo in looking around, a frown tugging at his mouth. While he’s distracted, Leo swipes a chunk of bell pepper from his cutting board, which may or may not have been his endgame all along. 

“That’s so weird, he was here two seconds ago,” Mikey says.

Raph pushes back from the table and gets up to check the living room. A Jupiter Jim movie is playing on the projector, and Gio has revealed himself to be as much of a fan as the rest of his siblings are, but there are no little turtles sitting transfixed in front of the screen. 

“Not in here,” he reports back. 

“Stay calm, people, we have protocols in place for this,” Donnie says, tapping his bracer until it projects a holographic screen of color-coded GPS location pins. 

“Donald, you did not microchip that baby,” Mikey intones ominously. 

“Of course I didn’t. That would be unethical,” Donnie replies. He even rolls his eyes, because he has no sense of danger. “I implanted the chip in his nineteen-year-old self two days after he first moved in, like a reasonable person.”

Raph pinches the bridge of his beak and reminds himself to revisit this conversation later. For the hundredth time in their lives. 

“Can you find the kid or not, Dee?”

“Please, name literally one time my Genius Built methods have ever failed us in any capacity. Of course I can find him,” Donnie scoffs, only to frown at the big error symbol that pops up on the holoscreen a second later. “Ah. Update, due to certain magical interference, the tracker currently does not exist. I can’t find him.” 

“Great contribution, Tello,” Leo says, sounding like he’s fighting for his life to keep a straight face. “Maybe now we can just look for him with our eyes.”

Another rumble of thunder bullies into the conversation. The new lair is a repurposed subway station, closer to the surface than the old one had been, and this is the first time it’s stormed this hard since they moved in, so none of them were prepared for the magnitude of the sound. It reverberates through the tunnels and pipes, amplified by the metal and cement and hollow spaces. 

“He probably went after SHELLDON,” Raph reasons. “I’ll go find him. You two bozos stay put and help Mike finish making lunch.”

“Are you punishing them or me?” Mikey demands. Behind him Leo steals a cherry tomato off the cutting board, because he also has no sense of danger. Raph gets while the getting is good. 

Gio isn’t in the lab, where SHELLDON is buzzing around singing Speed Drive by Charli xcx to himself, or the bathroom. 

Anxiety begins to stir in the back of his heart, where it’s lived for as long as he can remember. It sleeps some of the time, but not as much as it used to. 

The steps leading up to the front door have been baby-gated to lengths of absurdity, part of Donnie’s manic lair-wide Georgie-proofing—so the odds of Gio making it past the stairs and into the dark maze-like tunnels in the handful of seconds someone wasn’t actively watching him are slim to none. 

It doesn’t stop Raph from worrying. He doesn’t want to shout Gio’s name, because he doesn’t want to do anything on purpose that would make that little boy’s eyes get big and fearful, but he can feel his steps getting more frantic with every room that he checks that comes up empty. 

The door to Gio’s room is ajar—it’s rarely ever closed—and Raph pokes his head in without expecting much. Baby Gio got an eyeful of it on the whirlwind tour Mikey took him on but didn’t seem particularly interested in exploring the space. 

It’s a comfortable room. Cozy, even, which is a style that a total stranger might be surprised to find out that Gio subscribes to, but absolutely no one who knows him needed longer than one second to conceptualize before they realized it made perfect sense. 

There are string lights draped across the ceiling, and a huge felt board that takes up half the length and height of the back wall, where photos and drawings and little mementos are pinned. A downy polka-dotted duvet swallows up the bed, and the curtains strung across the front-facing window, to block some of the light that beams in from the living areas, are polka-dotted for good measure—because if there’s one thing this family loves, it’s leaning into a bit. 

And it would be tidy if not for Gio’s little siblings leaving evidence behind of their constant comings and goings. Donnie’s Switch and wireless headphones have been tossed on the bed, and Leo’s guitar is balanced crookedly on the chair by the desk, and the desk itself is covered in the half-inked pages of a graphic novel Mikey is brainstorming. Even one of April’s college textbooks has ended up in here. 

Growing up, Raph never understood why all three little gremlins wanted to be in his room all the time—sprawled on his floor bickering over snacks, or cramming into his bed to make him watch two hour long video essays about any obscure topic under the sun—and then Raph got a big brother, and it all clicked. The huge pink beanbag that used to live in Raph’s room gravitated to the corner of Gio’s, where it ended up staying as a permanent fixture. Half the time Raph just lets himself in and flops into his designated seat, in the exact same way that Donnie and Mikey and Leo consistently get on his last nerve for doing. 

Gio, who thinks everything his siblings do is silly or charming or both, complains about it a lot less than Raph does. 

“Georgie?” he says, just in case there are any turtle toddlers lurking.

Of course no one answers, and he’s turning to leave and find another place to look, when he hears two separate sounds. A vicious growling bark of thunder that echoes down the tunnel, and a muffled whimper from much closer. 

Raph stops dead in his tracks. Now he’s listening for that second sound again specifically, straining to hear it, all his ninja senses and supersoldier senses and—most of all—biggest brother senses on high alert. 

He hears it, and follows it down onto his hands and knees to peer under the bed at where a tiny spotted turtle is hiding. 

Gio’s face is streaked with tears and he’s shuddering from head to toe, hands clamped over his ears, limbs all curled up like every frightened instinct in his body is urging him to go inside his shell. 

Feeling his heart break clean down the middle, Raph trips over himself to soothe, “Hey, hey, kiddo, it’s okay! Gio, what—”

Thunder rolls, and Gio flinches and makes another quiet sound of fear, and Raph realizes immediately what the situation is. He is also about two seconds from bodily lifting the bedframe and flinging it out of the way to better scoop Giorgio up. He has always, historically, hated any potential barrier between himself and his siblings with a single-minded fervor. He can’t even function when someone he loves is crying and he can’t reach them. 

He reigns in the impulse to charge forward. It takes both hands and considerable willpower. 

Running in recklessly always worked out when he was a child, because stakes were low and his brothers would follow him anywhere even if they fully believed his plan would fall apart as early as step one. 

But as he got older, and had to force the leadership reins into Leo’s unwilling hands, and that charming and reliable guy who was forever on Raph’s right hand side with a clever idea or an exit strategy suddenly became someone willing to let them all fail just to prove a point, Raphael learned the value of thinking things through. 

And he can’t just throw the bed out of the way, he reminds himself with gritted teeth, because that would scare the baby. 

So instead he settles on his plastron right there on the floor, cheek pressed to the rug, and starts to rumble deep and low in his chest. April calls it his car engine sound, and Donnie has correlated it with the healing frequency of a cat’s purr more than once. Guaranteed to comfort frightened little turtles or your money back. 

Sure enough, after a moment, Gio’s eyes peek open. He’s crying so hard he’s hiccupping, but other than that he’s barely made a peep. Until he manages to focus on Raph’s face, and then his sobs have a little voice behind them. 

“Hey, big man,” Raph soothes. “Raphie’s right here. Nothing bad is gonna happen while Raphie’s right here.” 

Gio doesn’t budge from where he’s wedged against the wall but he’s listening. He’s such a good kid, always listening. His limbs are curled so tight they must hurt, it would probably feel better for him to just pull inside his shell at this point, but for whatever reason he stays in a miserable little ball. 

“That storm is pretty loud, huh? Raph doesn’t like it either.” He reaches an arm under the bed, offering a hand. “But you know something? The best thing about being part of such a big family is that we keep each other safe. Even when it gets loud and scary and makes you wanna hide, you’ve got all of us here on your team.” Then, with a silly frown, he adds, “I’ll go wrestle that storm right out of the sky and make it say sorry for being such a bully and making my Georgie cry. How ‘bout that?”

Thunder rumbles again, and Gio jumps and shivers at the sound, but when he starts to squirm it’s forward, towards Raph’s open hand. He holds it with both of his much smaller ones, tears dripping from his chin, grip white-knuckled. 

Mouth wobbling, he bravely shakes his head. 

“No?” Raph says, playful and gentle in equal parts. “Okay, I’ll stay in here with you instead. Do you think I could fit under there? Scooch over a bit.”

Something that might one day grow up into a smile touches just the corners of Gio’s mouth. He shakes his head again. 

“Raphie’s too big,” he whispers. Raph scoffs in fake-offense and the almost smile on Gio’s face inches closer to the real thing. “We can go under the table,” he adds very earnestly. 

“That’s the best idea I’ve ever heard,” Raph says, down for literally anything that will make his babyfied older brother stop crying. “Come on over here, spots. We’ll go together.”

Some jangling, dislocated thing in Raph’s heart only settles when he’s got Gio in his arms, tiny, insubstantial thing that he is. He sits on the floor for an extra minute, rumbling extra loud, until Gio’s pulse slows its frantic leaping into something closer to its normal resting rate. The next time the storm tries to speak up where it isn’t wanted, Gio’s tucked safely under Raph’s chin absorbing his car engine sound and only shivers. 

Red catches Raph’s eye, a familiar hoodie hanging from the handle of the closet door. He’d given it to Gio months ago, when a cooking incident led to Gio’s jacket getting tossed into the wash, and Raph had said, “Here, you can borrow one of mine.”

He’d fished the old hoodie out of a basket of clean laundry and passed it over. It wasn’t anything to write home about, weathered and faded over the years, the hem stretched out and a corner of the hoodie pocket peeling away thanks to a loose string. 

But Gio looked stunned when he saw it. He took it from Raph’s hands robotically and pulled it over his head with a mumbled thank you. It was laughably big on Raph’s big brother, who would probably only have a few inches on the twins for a few more years.

Raph grinned and helped Gio roll up the sleeves, saying, “All my siblings steal this one from me constantly. Right of passage. Look, see? Perfect fit!”

“Yeah,” Gio said hoarsely, thumbing carefully at the frayed hem as if it was spun with gold. “Perfect fit.”

Since he seemed to like it so much, Raph let it keep mysteriously ending up in his room. And Raph reaches over for it now, tucking it in with his armful of Georgie as a makeshift toddler blanket before he finally pushes to his feet. 

“Sorry,” Gio says very quietly as they make their way back toward the light and laughter pouring out of the kitchen. “For hiding.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Raph says, startled. “Georgie, you got scared, that’s not your fault. Of course you hid, that’s what any smart little turtle would do. Mikey hides when the toaster pops too loud. And I get scared all the time.”

Gio clearly doesn’t believe him, frowning deeply. That stubborn face is one-hundred-percent their Gio.

“Raph’s too big and strong to be scared,” the spotted turtle retorts, as close as he’s likely to ever come to a more age-appropriate “nuh-uh!” 

“Hah,” Raph says, “I wish that was true.” He looks down at Gio and tells him, “The thing that always makes me feel brave is remembering that I have all of you guys with me. I have a thing I say that helps. Maybe you can try it next time you get scared. Just say I’m not alone.”

“I’m not alone,” Gio repeats obediently.

One day, Raph thinks, it’ll stick. 

Until then, they’ll keep reminding him. They’ll drag him out of the dark a hundred thousand times and lead him to a warmer, well-lit place, where his siblings will trip over themselves to put a smile on his face, even if that means eating frittatas on the floor under the kitchen table. 

Leo keeps stealing food from Mikey’s plate until finally Mikey snaps and goes in for the kill, and Donnie shrieks when they kick over the pitcher of lemonade because now he’s sticky and someone will be paying for it, and Splinter comes in to investigate the noise and takes in the scene playing out under the table and says, “Why are you like this? Who raised you?”

The rest of the storm passes the way storms always do. The next time thunder rumbles through the lair, Gio is too busy giggling to hear it. 

[boyofsorrow]

“What We Never Said”

Rain drummed against the windows of the house in Godric’s Hollow, like impatient fingers knocking on a door no one would ever open. James sat by the fireplace, a half-finished glass of firewhisky in hand. The flickering light sparked against his glasses, but couldn’t reach the cold in his chest. That place—right there beneath the sternum—had been frozen for years. Since that night.

Harry was asleep upstairs. Lily too, unaware of the weight suspended in the air, of the nearly vanished scent of a story never spoken aloud. And James remained below, awake, haunted by a guilt he no longer knew how to quiet.

He held an old wooden box in his hands—the same hands that had once trembled when they touched his. A box no one else knew about. He’d found it at the back of the closet while moving old Hogwarts things. He rarely touched it. Afraid the memories might bite.

He opened it.

A snake-shaped ring, blackened by time. A letter written in silver ink on fine parchment. A lock of black hair, tied with scarlet thread. And a black-and-white photo where two figures barely looked at each other, yet said everything. Just four objects. Enough to make the world sway.

Regulus Black wasn’t just another name on the Black family tree. To James, he was a crack in reality. A necessary break. A wound he never knew how to close.

“James, if you're reading this, I'm dead. So typical of me to leave notes, right? The perfect Black—even in goodbye. I wanted you to know I have no regrets. Not about the betrayal, not about loving you in that forbidden hollow of the world we shared…”

Regulus’s voice—cold like the moon and warm like the last time they met—echoed in his mind.

James collapsed to the floor. He didn’t cry. He couldn’t. Not when the memory of that final encounter still burned inside him.

They’d argued in the old astronomy tower. Regulus had pushed him. James had kissed him. They hated each other for how they felt, and loved each other for what they never said.

---

They had started talking in secret in sixth year. The youngest Black was never part of the Marauders, nor did he want to be. He was cold, distant, disciplined. But his eyes… his eyes always seemed to be hiding an unasked question.

“And what do you think you’re going to change, Potter?” he once said in the corridors, while Sirius and Remus debated the future of the Order.

“Enough so my son won’t have to grow up afraid,” James replied, not even knowing why he said it to him.

Regulus didn’t smile, but lowered his gaze. As if those words had brushed against something broken inside him.

After that, their meetings became more frequent. First arguments, then shared silences. Then, one night in the Astronomy Tower, they kissed. Quick, almost angry. They didn’t know if they hated themselves for doing it… or for wanting to do it again.

James never told Lily. Not because he didn’t love her. He did. In a healthy, bright, peaceful way.

But Regulus… Regulus was the dark side of the moon. The corner of the soul that couldn’t be shown in daylight.

---

The letter was worn, but James knew every word by heart.

“I never wanted to compete with her. I never could. I just wanted to linger a little longer in your shadow, even if it was only at night, and in silence. I know you won’t come for me. I know you’ll choose the straight path, the family, the light. And I understand. I just wanted someone to know I was more than a Black, more than a traitor. I was yours—for a moment. And in this rotten world, that was enough.”

That’s how the letter ended.

James closed his eyes, folded it, and tucked it into the inner pocket of his robes.

He found out weeks later. That Regulus had died. That he’d vanished somewhere deep in the underbelly of dark magic. That no one mourned him, except Kreacher—and James.

And James did cry. But in silence. Because crying for Regulus meant admitting he had loved him.

He stood, the letter pressed to his heart. Climbed the stairs quietly. Entered his son’s room and watched him sleep.

Harry breathed calmly, little fists clenched like he was fighting in his dreams. James leaned down and kissed his forehead.

“Your mother was my home,” he whispered. “But there was a part of me… a dark, misunderstood part… that only he ever touched.”

“I promise you’ll grow up without secrets, Harry,” he murmured. “But there’s one I’ll carry to the end.”

And in the dark, he swore he’d visit Regulus’s grave before the week was over. Not as a Potter. Not as a husband. But as a man who loved another… and never forgave himself for surviving him.

The fire still burned downstairs. But that night, James Potter slept with ashes beneath his skin. And a name on his lips he would never say aloud.

Regulus.

[scrubbinn]

In Stars and Systems (ISAT AU)

Isabeau 41 days since the King’s defeat

Odile stares at you, waiting for an answer. Her gaze makes you squeamish..

“Well, Isabeau?”

You sigh. Please, Change, anything but this conversation right now.

“Look, I get it, Sif has been acting kind of weird.”

“KIND OF?!”

Woah! You didn't expect Odile to raise her tone like that.

“M'dame! You're gonna wake the whole inn!”

…It's been over a month since Mirabelle froze the king with his own attack. Over a month since you found out your bestest bud in the whole world was stuck in a time loop for a year. Over a month since you… confessed… to him. It makes you feel warm everytime you think about it.

The nurse from Dormont’s house had only recently given the ok for the party to travel. It took a whole month for Sif to finish recovering from the worst craft exhaustion that anyone had ever seen. The first stop on your new journey was traveling to Bambouche to deliver Bonbon back to their sister. Before that, everyone was stuck keeping Sif company while he healed.

NOT THAT YOU HATED IT!! But it was rough, seeing them in that state. Unable to tell you anything that happened and answer any of the questions you had about the time loop or that star person.

You wished you could've been by his side more. He was in rough shape after everything that happened. Not to mention, when he went to give the party's thanks to Loop, you found him passed out in front of the favor tree. No Loop in sight.

That first week was bad, they could barely form sentences. It was a gamble that any food they ate would stay inside him long enough to digest it.

Things started getting strange after that. During the end of the second week, they woke up, panicked, and tried to run away from the house. They only got to the hallway outside their bed before they broke down. You don’t know exactly what happened, so you did your best to reassure him. When they finally calmed down, they looked at you with such sad eyes. It was probably just a nightmare, but something in their face made you worried. It was like they thought you were a ghost or a zombie or something.

The weird stuff kept happening. Some days Sif would be like how you remembered, but other times they'd be distant. Either not saying a single word, or way too bright and cheery. But no matter the mood, they always avoided you…

Then there was tonight's incident. It was the first snowfall of winter. You had to push everyone to walk those extra kilometers to reach the next town, Voiralters. You were all exhausted, and so you thought you'd all go straight to bed as soon as you checked in at the inn's front desk. M��dame Odile, wanted to catch up on some reading in the lobby, instead. That's when she noticed Sif slinking out of the building. She found him lying in the snow, resting. And when she tried to check up on him, reach for him…

She woke you and Mira up soon after. The cut wasn't too serious. Mira healed it perfectly as always, but the fact that Sif was the one responsible, it made it look ten times worse. The party decided on Mira to go out and look for Sif. You wanted to go out and find them but…

“Look! Sif is just under a lot of stress!”

“Isabeau!”

She sighed and regained her composure. “We've all been through a lot. But it's clear Siffrin is hiding something again and not telling us. The way they're acting has made that clear.”

“But… maybe they're just trying to deal with what happened? In their own way? He still hasn't been able to talk much about what happened with the loops. Maybe he just needs more time.”

“Look, even when Siffrin was having a breakdown, and nearly destroyed the whole world… he never attacked us. Even at his lowest point.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“We learned a lot that day. Time craft, Wish craft, time loops and star people. Is it so weird to think there might be a craft to take over someone's mind? Is Siffrin still Siffrin?”

HUH?! “UM, YES? Who would they be otherwise?”

“I don't know Isabeau! That Loop character? This universe god? The King? Does it matter? Something is wrong. They're not acting right! Maybe it’s more subtle than that day, when Siffrin confronted each of us… hurt us… Something has clearly changed. Whatever is wrong, we need to fix it.”

Your body is shaking, you don't know what to say. To convince her. To convince yourself.

Thank change, the sound of the entrance bell ends the conversation. But you see Mira walk inside about to cry.

“Mira! Are you ok? Did you find Sif?”

She shakes her head, dejected.

“I-I'm Sorry Isabeau. I couldn't… I couldn't find them anywhere.”

You felt your throat tighten. Why didn’t you go out with Mira to search………… 

You're not dumb, you've caught on the same things as M'dame Odile. Something is wrong with Siffrin. They weren't acting like themselves. But you didn't want to think about it because… what if was true. What if the one you loved was gone, or they still didn't trust you. After everything, they still couldn't bring themselves to trust you! You are a coward. What was the reason you quit being a defender? Because you wanted to help! Even when everyone else was too scared… You're sure showing them, huh.

Does it matter if it's Siffrin or not? There's someone out in the freezing cold and probably scared out of their mind. You swallow down your fear. Your body moves on its own and the door swings open once more.

Odile looks at you in surprise. “You know it'd be better to wait right. Siffrin isn't so foolish as to spend an entire night out-” 

concern washed over her face. After the few stories Sif did share, none of you really know what they'd do. 

“Perhaps we should wake some of the townsfolk for help?”

“Well…” Mira starts running a bunch of ideas through her head. “I'm sure there'd be a lot of people willing to help. But there'd also be a lot of people who'd get upset.”

Odile smirks, “I think they'll be fine if it's a request from the saviors of Vaugarde.” 

Mira didn't like using the title of savior for anything but it has been useful lately. It’s not like you all had the money to stay at a cozy inn like this.

“You and Isabeau can ask for help, I'll watch over Boniface. I don't exactly do well in the cold.”

“Ok! We'll do our best to find Siffrin! And then I’m going to kick his crabbing butt until he starts talking to us!”

M'dame smirks “Good peptalk.”

You can tell Mira is trying to pump herself up. It's so cool she can push herself like that. Hopefully, it'll be enough inspiration for you too.

You and Mira step out into the night. The cold wind hits you all at once How can Sif handle cold nights like this? Mira looks so comfy in her fluffy overcoat. You really should have bought one yourself, but it was expensive, and you were hoping for an excuse to cuddle up with Sif. You hope you find him soon. 

It's not long before you notice a shade In the darkless snow. It must be blood from when Sif… you push that thought into the back of your mind and continue. The snowfall already hid any footprints they might have made. With their cloak on, it's no wonder Mira couldn't find them. It was only a small town but there were still so many alleys and crevices for someone to hide in.

It's freezing out. The air bites through your clothes. The new snow layer brightens up the night, but it’s still hard to spot any details not illuminated by the street lamps. You've been knocking on any door you can. Some wake, listen to your story, do what they can to help. That good ol’ Vaugarde support is coming in real handy right now. It’s not long before twenty other people are helping you search, with some going to wake up even more. Poor Mira is feeling awful right now involving so many people, she’s doing her best to keep up a brave face. You're only starting to feel confident because of her. Voiralters is only thrice as big as Dormont. This shouldn’t take much longer. You keep telling yourself that, but it doesn’t make it more believable.

Gotta stay positive! Sure, you haven’t seen a single sign of them in an alleyway. No one has found them hiding out in a shed or under a bridge. Just stay positive, at some point a friendly face is going to shout out that they found him. Sure, a lot of the people are looking a little tired. You’re getting tired too. You should have gone to sleep hours ago. No, you can’t think like that! You’ll find Sif! No matter what!

The cold is starting to get to you. You’re feeling dizzy, ears and fingertips hurting. You want to see him again. Your throat is starting to hurt from calling out. The townsfolk all say the same thing, No sign of the savior in darkless clothes. Mira is thinking you should wait until morning before continuing. You curse under your breath each chance you're alone. Cursing at the crabbing cold, the crabbing situation, at anything to keep your mind running.

Think. Think! Where would Sif go to hide? Would they hide next to a house? No, if they wanted to be alone they would avoid any chance of someone hearing them outside. An alleyway? You’ve triple checked all of them… The nearby woods? Where would you even begin to search? But, it is the only place you haven’t searched yet. And Sif should know how dangerous it is. But it's the only place left. You slap your cheeks. This is no time to doubt yourself! You’re Isabeau! If there’s a change Sif is there, you are going to take it! No more hesitation! Sif wouldn’t ever give up, so you can’t either! You won’t leave him behind again!

You're not the biggest fan of forests. Well, the favor trees are neat and all, but you were never the type to go running into the woods when you were a kid. The ground is so uneven. You end up tripping on a branch, and slam your head into a stump. It hurts, but you can't give up. Blood runs down your forehead, not important, gotta find Sif. Thoughts are starting to tell you that it's hopeless, that you should regroup to the others. The back of your mind only has so much space. Do you even know the way back home? You feel all turned around now. It's hard to make out your foot prints. Wait… footprints! They're way too small to be yours. The canopy was doing its best to slow the descending blanket of snow. With that, you see the footprints leading further in… He's there.

You wouldn't have recognized him without the shaking. From your distance and light, he would have looked like a lump of snow and some moss. But they were shivering. No? Getting closer, you see he's, hyperventilating.

Before you can get closer, he snaps his attention towards you and jumps back. they're getting ready to run. Your mind is, confused. Trying to process so many things at once. Thoughts are fighting each other to swim to the surface, and, the one that comes to mind first is… that you're tired. Your body gives out on its own and you sit down on the snowy floor. Things are a lot clearer now that you're not running everywhere. Sif’s eye is so wide. He looks like a scared prey animal ready to dart away or attack.

“Oh I get it. You were scared when M'dame Odile was checking up on you. Jeez Sif, way to scare everyone like that.”

Sif looked confused. Poor thing. This is just like those times you've needed to coax a cat out of a tree or ditch.

“Oh! How about we try doing a breathing exercise! That usually helps right? Here follow my lead. Breath in…”

Sif seems to relax a bit as they follow your lead. How long were you supposed to hold your breath again? Now is a good a time as any.

“And out!”

They've calmed down a bit, you think. They're looking at you with caution but curiosity as well.

Be reeeal nice if you had some of Bonbon's snacks right now.

“...Sif, we're all worried about you right now. I mean what you did tonight, and how you've been acting the past month. It's clear there's something you're hiding from us.”

Sif raises their guard again. Moonlight bounces off their dagger.

“But, we won't force you to tell us.”

That eases their stance, and also seems to confuse them. You're starting to get a bit uncomfortable by how one sided this has been.

“I mean, unless it starts ending the world again and then you'll have to talk, but like, take your time bud!”

….

“...”

What would Sif do?

“Ok, let's try easing the tension. Tell me if you've heard this one before. What's the best pace to carve something?”

“..?”

“Whittle by whittle!”

“...pfft”

You can't help but smile as Sif tries to stifle his laughter. Yes! Yes!

you're not sure how long you spend, telling puns out in the freezing cold. The others are probably worrying about you by now, and you should definitely get this head injury checked. But… It's nice.  With enough patience, Siffrin begins to creep closer before collapsing near you. Finally feeling safe again.

You let out the sigh of tension you've been holding all night. It's nearly daybreak. It won't be hard to find your way back. You look down at your sleeping companion and get ready to carry them back. You have to accept it now.

This isn't Sif.

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

Hi! to everyone who follows us. I hope you won't mind us working on this project. ISAT has meant a lot to us over these past couple of years and we wanted to contribute our own story to it's beautiful community. So we hope you'll stick around to enjoy it.

And to everyone who's new and found us through a search or tags. Thank you for reading. Just the fact you read our story means the world to us. We hope you'll stick around to read more.

[diariesofthelost]

Are You Really Mad?

{First person POV, Jealousy, Mild Sexual Content}

"It's been two hours already Caleb." I say annoyed.

"I know babe, I can't help it." he says looking at me with a nervous smile.

I didn't think coming with Caleb to a reunion basketball game would be this way. Some of his old friends from college had asked him to play and I was all for it. That is until, now as I stand here watching my boyfriend be pawned all over like this. He's not actually paying any attention to them, but it bugs me how much he's getting.

"Pip-squeak, please don't give me that look." Caleb begs.

"What look Caleb?" I ask my words laced with sarcasm.

No of course I'm not going to make it easy. After his team won, he didn't even bother to kiss me. Just ran straight into his crowd of 'admirers'.

"Babe please..." he says urgently.

I grab his hand and look him in the eye. I am starting to get a little mad. Theres just the one girl who won't take her eyes off him.

"Can we go? Please... I'm starting to get uncomfortable." I reply back. I'm not lying, he just doesn't have to know why.

Caleb nods and his grip on my hands tightens. He bids goodbye to his friends and the groupies. Finally.

We make our way home to our shared apartment and as soon as we get through the door I grab Caleb's hand and pull him over to the couch. With a swift motion I push him down and straddle his lap. His hands instinctively find their place on my hips.

"Pip-squeak, what has gotten into you?" he asks, a little concerned but more aroused.

"I couldn't take it. Caleb, you being surrounded by all those women...them eying you like you were theirs.." I admit my jealousy surfacing now.

I know Caleb is hot and on top of that he has money and power. I never cared about his status as Colonel; I didn't fall in love with him because of his power. We grew up together. I fell in love with the dork that played sports and got on my nerves.

"Ok," he sighs, pulling me into a cradle position "Let's talk. We're not doing anything until I can put your mind at ease," he says gently.

"I don't want to talk about it; can't we just do this instead..." I say as I try to kiss him. I don't need to talk about it. I want to fuck it out. Can't he see that.

"No, babe. Sex isn't going to make you feel less jealous or insecure," he says stroking my hair. "Although, if you're still in the mood after we sort this out then I'll let you do whatever you want." he adds with a smile.

I sigh, knowing he's right. He usually is.

"What do you want to know?" I ask, my voice calmer now.

"Why didn't you just tell me the women were making you uncomfortable. You know I would've rushed them off sooner or even left sooner if you had. Don't you trust me Pip-squeak?" he asks his voice laced with concern.

Of course I trust him. He wasn't doing anything wrong anyway but how do you explain to someone you trust them but not the people around them? Or better yet, how do you explain that you feel like other people shouldn't even have the right to look at them at all, that you feel like they belong to you?

I sigh and look away embarrassed.

"Caleb... I don't really know how to explain it. I just... I want you all to myself and tonight as they were looking at you.... it reminded me that I'm replaceable." I say tears threatening to spill out of the corner of my eyes.

Caleb pulls me into a tight hug.

"Hey now, you are not replaceable... baby I promise you that. You are the only woman I have ever loved, the only one I look at and crave." he reassures me.

He's good at that. I know what he says is true. I've never doubted Caleb. Not once.

We talk for a few more minutes as I explain what made me so jealous. He listens and responds with purpose. This is the Caleb I fell in love with. The man who never shrugs me off or invalidates me despite how insecure I can get.

"Do you feel better Pip-squeak?" he asks poking my side.

I want to tell him no, after all he did make me talk when all I wanted was dick but as he begins to poke me, I can't help but smile and laugh.

"Alright! You win, yes, I feel better!" I blurt out laughing.

"That's my girl." he says, his voice low and husky. "Are you still in the mood?" he asks as he plays with the hem of my shirt.

Am I? I thought I would be, but if I'm being honest, I think that surge was due to my previous feelings of jealousy and possessiveness.

"Actually, is it ok if we just get ready for bed and cuddle?" I ask, I already know the answer. Caleb knows me well and would never press sex.

He nods and carries me to the bathroom. We shower off together, washing each other and then get out readying ourselves for bed.

He pulls me into a tight embrace and holds me close.

His cologne is amazing.

I settle in against him and let our bodies become a tangled mess.

"Is this better Pip-squeak?" he asks his voice already laced with sleep.

This is perfect. Just him and me. The smell of his cologne and the feel of his body. It's all the reassurance I need, that even if me and Caleb have never told each other as much, we are completely bound to each other and only each other.

"Yes, my love. It's perfect." I say as I let out a breath drifting off myself.

{Enjoy, if anyone has any requests you can send them my way. I would love to write for you}