He remembered being so happy to see him. Even now, just knowing that Ilya had made the trip to the hospital filled Shane with a tingly warmth. Shane was completely in love with him.
He would hit his head all over again just to be alone in that quiet hospital room with those careful fingers and those concerned eyes.
Summary: After the bullet grazes Loki’s head in the shootout with Holly Jones, our nurse discharges him from the hospital. And Loki…? Loki’s hoping it won’t be the last time he sees her. Spoiler: it won’t be. Set in 2013.
Word count: 2,191 (OOPS????!!!)
Warnings: mentions of blood, mentions of abandonment/past, cursing. None that’re super prominent, I don’t think. 18+, no minors whatsoever.
Themes: slow burn romance, restraint, grumpy Loki
Author’s note: I hate using second person in my writing lmaooo so I hope yall can enjoy my third person POVs. I hope I made her neutral enough for yall. If you want her more fleshed out with a name and appearance, tell me! I’m so happy to do that. She has a name in my head. I def didn’t proofread this lmaooo. I’m open to criticism, just message me and be kind okay? This is my first time writing Loki, first shot at fanfic in YEARS. Anyway, bye! Enjoy!
─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───
The rain comes down in fat throws, every other tap against the window hitting an involuntary spasm in his left eye. The good eye. The one Holly Jones narrowly missed. Did enough damage, the sclera clouded brown from so much blood.
Now that he’s awake, the sterility of the hospital rakes against every thread of patience he has. Muffled wails leak down the corridors from rooms away. Monitors bleep in a slow, indifferent rhythm next door. Someone hacks so violently David crunches his nose, expecting the splat of a lung when it comes out.
Supposed to go home today.
Discharge, long awaited.
Five days in medical captivity, only two of which he’s been truly awake for. It’s quiet now, despite the echoing throes of the other patients. No more white coats rushing him. No more quick hands grabbing for his face and head, met with a litany of expletives. No fucking with the fresh wound on his head, or in his goddamn eye, or babysitting.
Jesus, that’s the worst part. The babysitting. The enforced incapability because the nurses can’t risk a fall that acquires more paperwork. For David Loki, relying on anyone but himself means hell. For all parties.
Today, just a few more hours, and he’ll be gone. Good fucking riddance.
Shoulders hunched where he sits on the edge of the hospital bed, he rolls his phone between his hands.
Tumbles left. No ring.
Tumbles right. No vibration.
Left. No calls.
Right. No texts.
Phone’s useless, something he could live without, if it weren’t for work. He’s paying for it, so he makes use of it. The flick of his thumb opens the screen, pulling up the camera.
He leans in close, a crease deep between his brows as he investigates the injury. Two fingers pull down the bottom lid, the bursted vessels sprawling to pink flesh.
It doesn’t bother him, blood that’s his.
Just as he catches movement in his periphery—a shadow at the door—a voice comes. Gentle, unfamiliar, knowing. “It’s called a subconjunctival hemorrhage,” she says, “Should clear up in the next few weeks.”
In a drug-delayed tic, David’s eyes flick to her. Long hair tamed in a high ponytail, a wisp of bangs framing the temples. Black scrubs outline her body. A clipboard sits on her hip, other hand pocketed where she leans in the doorway, awaiting permission. Features for excellent RBF—sharp nose, wary eyes—but the easy curl of her mouth expels that impression.
“Mm.” David grunts in acknowledgment, nodding once as he sets the phone beside him. His eyes drift, anywhere but her.
“David, yeah?” She addresses him as the person, not the occupation, or his career record. Just… David. The man he forgets he is.
“Loki, yes.” The answer’s worn down, throat unaccustomed to talking again.
That’s her permission. The swish of scrubs fills the space between them as she drags the swiveling stool to take a seat a safe distance away. Giving him space, not cowering.
“Can you confirm your birthday, David Loki?”
“Isn’t it on the paper you have?”
It’s unintentional, but the comment pulls her mouth wider. The tiniest smirk, maybe even halfway annoyed, maybe not. She clicks her pen, scribbling a note that he cranes his head to see. No luck.
“Sure is on my paper, but I need to know that you know your birthday if we’re going to let you walk.”
In a sigh, “Ten-thirteen-eighty.”
More scribbling. What the hell is she writing? It doesn’t stop, and the question’s burning his tongue, so— “You’re not my nurse.”
The pen pauses, and she looks at him under a raised brow. “I am today.”
“Rhonda normally has this wing.”
“Rhonda works three twelves in a row. Rhonda might want a day off.” There’s no malice to her words, only the twitch of a one-sided smile. Used to this—this flow between person to person, patient to patient, every individual need and personality.
“Not complaining.” The tape tugs, rustles, one finger scratching beneath the bandage.
She points the pen at the door. “I can get the nurses with rough hands and worse attitudes, if you’d like.”
Quick, Loki raises a hand. “No. No. By all means…” And motions for her to continue, eyes on the floor as he counts the tiles to rein in the tics.
“You sure? You’re not going to tell me toooo…” She flips a few pages, then squints as she quotes, “‘Eat a dick’? Or ‘go fuck myself’? Or, my personal favorite, ‘sit on a cactus’?”
The cinch of his brows, the line of his mouth, expresses the consideration, maybe the hint of shame he doesn’t have time for, but he ultimately gives her the answer of, “Nah.”
“…Nah. That’s convincing.”
“You always antagonize your patients, nurse?”
“Just the ones that need extra TLC.”
Loki huffs, rolling his eyes.
“Okay, Mr. Loki—”
“Drop the mister—”
“Okay, Loki, I’ve got just a few more questions for you, then you’ll be a free man. They’re easy, I promise, and the day’s yours after just a few more minutes with me. Okay?” The tone of her voice drops to something soft, something David can tell she reserves, and only when he looks at her does he realize he’s been twisting his ring on his finger like screwing a nail.
Just a few minutes with her. With the kind smile he rarely sees, softer eyes, and the placating nature of her presence.
“…Okay,” he resigns.
“Just some basic information to update your forms, god forbid you’re back—”
“I was that bad of a patient, hm?”
“Not quite,” a wry smile, “Just saying I hope I don’t see you in here under these conditions again. You were the perfect patient when I had you—”
“—When were you my nurse?” Always the detective. Always getting to the answers. He’d remember her.
“Mm, mhm.” She nods, crossing a leg over the other. The end of the pen taps against the paper, a distant gloss of memory over her eyes. “When you first came in. Had you for those first three days. You were mainly unconscious.”
“That made me the perfect patient? Nice.”
She leans in, sharing what she didn’t get to finish: “You were the perfect patient for all the wrong reasons. I’d rather have all the cuss words in the book thrown at me if it means my patient can verbalize their needs, feed themselves, and get one step closer to walking out the door.“
The automatic bristle in his posture starts to abate, shoulders setting. He isn’t sure what to say, so he says nothing at all. Nods, then halfheartedly motions a hand. “Go ahead with your questions.” Quieter now.
Her spine straightens, finding that facade of professionalism again. “Right, the questions… Here we go.” Clearing her throat, she studies the paper like she doesn’t know what’s on it. “Do you have a healthcare power of attorney?”
“No.”
“Do you want one?”
“No.”
“Do you understand what a power of attorney of healthcare is, Loki?”
“Yes.”
While she’s writing, he’s finding.
The badge pinned to her top gives him more than enough.
Her name, with the title of BSN, RN. embellishing it. Registered Nurse, four year degree with it.
“Go to school around here?” David asks without noticing he interrupts her.
A light, incredulous breath of laughter bows her head. “I know it may feel a little unconventional, but I’m asking the questions for a minute, Loki.”
“David.”
“David…” His name draws a smile on her lips, cheeks taut where she won’t let it grow. “Okay. Back to business, David. Who can I list as your emergency contact?”
Immediate: “Uh—” Cut off by an unamused chuckle. “Leave it. As is.”
The air tightens.
Her hesitation, his secrecy.
The rain knocks at what neither of them will say.
“…So…blank.” Her tone level. Cool, probably making assumptions he doesn’t owe answers for.
“As is.” He repeats, hand signaling the question’s answered and isn’t to be pressed again. “If anything happens, I can’t speak for myself, notify Conyers PD. Captain O’Malley specifically.”
A longer note now, her cursive outside of the box with the direction.
“Any next of kin you’d like listed?”
“No. None.”
One final scratch of the pen, ink branding a permanent reminder of the nothingness made from abandonment.
“Last thing.” She sets the clipboard aside, on the bedside table, and laces her fingers.
Their eyes meet. Hers, with a soothing expertise of the plan. His, dulled from the hit, masked by gnarly bruises, but fixed on hers through one singular tic from his cheek to his eye.
“I need to change the bandage.” She nods at his head. “Check the wound, make sure it all looks good, I’ll put a fresh gauze over it. We’ll go through your take home instructions, medication, and follow up plan. Sound good?”
For once…? “Yeah… Sounds good.”
“Alright, that’s what I like to hear.” She rises, graceful in the years of experience molded to her muscles. The metal table tray clinks over the tiles as she pulls it to her hip, standing where he sits with her knees in a respectable slot between his. Latex snaps, her hands gloved. Utensils clatter in careful organization, the rip of paper as she opens sterile gauze, tape.
David eases his palms together, idle, a physical distraction. The warmth of her body seeps from the scrubs, his personal space infiltrated by the honeyed citrus of her perfume, almost overpowered by the suffocating antiseptic woven into her clothes.
“Okay, I’m about to peel the bandage off.” Two seconds later, there’s her touch. Light, deliberate fingers against his shaved scalp. The mindful but swift rip of tape from his head.
David swallows a hummed grunt.
“It’s tender, I know,” she says, the empathy far from pity. “I’ll work fast so I don’t disturb it any more than necessary.”
“You’re fine. No rush.”
With the wound open to air, coolness greets it. The soft passing of her breath in his hair, the shift of her stance as she hones in on finishing the job. Her pinkies graze the long hair, her thumbs smoothing his temple as she works.
David decompresses under it: the quiet efficiency, the preparedness he feels in her verbal demonstration. There’s no grabbing, no unapologetic manipulation of his face, no prodding in or around the wound.
“…You’ve got good hands.” He says before he can stop himself, eyes fastened on the stomach pocket of her scrubs to keep from looking at what’s eye-level. Her tits. Her tits are eye-level, and he’s not going to be a greedy bastard.
“That’s a compliment I’ve never heard.” She hums, diligent, ever-moving. “Glad you didn’t have me get the other nurse?”
He huffs, closest thing to a laugh he can fathom. “Yeah.”
“You had a visitor, by the way. A few, actually.”
“Yeah, the Birch’s and Dover’s stopped by. Saw ‘em.”
She blinks once, lips pursing. “…No. No, sorry, I meant while you were under.”
He blinks. Draws back just enough to look up at her, empty in his guess. “…Who?”
“Your captain, I think. The name—O’Malley—it’s familiar. A few of your colleagues came by, too. Well, I’m assuming they’re your colleagues, since they were all in uniform.”
David hides behind the act of adjusting his ring, forward again to let her work. “Making sure I’ll be back at work by Monday.” He hides behind the sarcastic dismissal, too.
She shakes her head, saying little. That says enough. Says she’s seeing right through his act.
David draws in a slow, steeling breath.
She finishes her work, as promised. Easy. Clean. He’ll be a free man soon, like she said.
Soon, she’ll step away.
He’ll try to remember the exact concoction of perfume-to disinfectant-ratio that smells like her.
He’ll drag his hand through his hair, and realize instantly it’ll never feel the same.
Time’s fleeting.
The present’s just one intangible second before it becomes memory.
The world’s indifferent to that.
And his time’s up.
She steps back with a triumphant sigh, peeling the gloves off.
“Look at you.” It’s quiet, her beam subtle, but it’s real, it’s there, and Loki’s throat bobs. “Good as new.”
And for some reason, he believes her. Just for that fleeting second.
“Thanks,” Loki rasps, tongue sweeping his bottom lip. “Appreciate it.”
“No trouble, David.” She collects the clipboard again, and shuffles to the stop halfway to the door. “Your meds are at the nurse’s station. Discharge paperwork’s there, too. You’re all set. You’ve got everything you need.” She bats an honest wink. “I personally checked twice.”
He reaches for anything conversationally, anything to drag it out just a little more. “Criminal amount of norco in my goodie bag?”
“Oh, even better…” Her brows raise, face comically animated as she divulges the disappointing secret in a whisper, “Ibuprofen and antibiotics.”
The snort he makes is hardly a sound.
She turns, heading for the door.
Loki’s out of lame attempts to stall her.
She pauses in the doorway, twisting back to look at him. Eyes bright, smile coming easy, more alleviating than whatever pain meds they were stingy about.
“Great work, David.”
“See you around?”
“Just don’t let it be in here.”
─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───
Inbox open for how you think they should meet next… 👀 🥰💅🏼
*Please like & reblog if you enjoyed! This fanfic/content is mine, please don’t claim as your own or repost elsewhere. Mentioning again: no minors 🔞, as future work will hit on sensitive topics (no smut). Let me know if you want tagged when a new fic is posted! 🩷*
Summary: You and Tyler get separated during a storm and you’re severely injured. Tyler’s terrified of losing you before he could ever even admit his feelings.
Warnings: angst, injuries, cursing, use of pet names, body image issues, discussions of anxiety. SMUT, praise kink, very slight dom vibes, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (p in v).
“This one looks like it’s gonna turn ugly,” you muttered from the backseat of Tyler’s truck.
Both Tyler and Boone raised their gazes to the sky, a murmured grumble of agreement slipping from Boone.
“The ugly ones are the most fun,” Tyler chided.
“Not for the people who live here,” you muttered.
Tyler’s shoulders tensed slightly, eyes searching for yours in the rearview mirror. “You know what I meant.”
“Yeah.” Your eyes stayed locked on the sky—too annoyed with Tyler to make eye contact with him. You didn’t have a good excuse for your attitude--after all, he’d done nothing wrong. You’d simply woken up feeling particularly pathetic about your unrequited feelings for the tornado wrangler—and you were rudely taking it out on him.
Boone turned to look at you, eyes clearly searching your face for an explanation…one he didn’t find. He looked back at Tyler with a shrug.
Tyler sighed quietly. Your moodiness had increased as of late and he couldn’t figure out why. You were always a hair’s breadth away from snapping at him, but he couldn’t think of a single thing he’d done to deserve it. Certainly not to you. He’d rather get hit by a train than hurt you.
The radio on the dash crackled to life as Dexter’s voice rang out, “Guys—she’s turning. Heading toward a little town about five minutes up the road.”
For the first time all morning, you met Tyler’s worried gaze in the mirror. “We have to go.”
He nodded his agreement and pressed harder on the gas. “Let’s get over there and warn them,” he responded via the radio.
When Tyler’s truck pulled down the main road, you were surprised to see the number of people milling about. It appeared to be some sort of festival. You jumped out of the truck before he’d even put it in park and stared up at the sky.
You felt the warmth of Tyler’s body beside yours moments later as he too looked to the sky.
“We need to get these people to a shelter,” you said softly.
“Agreed.” Tyler turned to the rest of the team. “Dex, keep monitoring the storm. Everyone else, let’s get these people to a shelter.”
Everyone spread out and started telling the locals they needed to take cover. Most people seemed inclined to ignore the recommendation until the wind began to pick up.
Your instincts kicked in and you ran back to find Dex, who’d abandoned his radar for a look at the horizon. The wind continued to pick up pace, and you spotted the funnel seconds after Dexter did. You both watched as it began to spin faster, moving towards the ground at an alarming rate.
You looked at Dexter, fear and adrenaline coursing through you. “Run.”
The older man needed no further encouragement. You both took off running, eyes scanning for any locals in need of assistance.
Other people had begun to notice the tornado careening toward the town and had begun running. You stopped moving as you slammed into the large body of a man you hadn’t noticed.
You instantly recognized him as Tyler. His eyes were wild, but they instantly softened when he saw you. “I’ve been looking for you! There’s a school down at the end of the road. The gym is probably the best place for us to gather everyone.”
He’d had to raise his voice to be heard over the wind, but you’d heard him. You nodded your understanding, adding, “Grab as many people as you can. I’ll do the same.”
You took off running without waiting for a response. You were already out of breath, but this was a life or death situation and you had no time to spare. Thankfully, it seemed most people were already running in the direction of the school, leaving few stragglers for you to direct.
Just as you passed a small shop, you heard the cries of a child yelling for someone. You immediately stopped and tried to identify where the cries were coming from. About 20 feet away, two little girls huddled against a wall, one of which was sobbing and the other was screaming a name over and over.
You ran to them, dropping to your knees in front of them. “Where are your parents?”
The older girl choked down a sob. “We-we’re here w-with our babysitter.”
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know,” she cried.
“Okay—let’s not worry about that now.” Your first instinct was to protect the girls, not worry about the whereabouts of an adult. “My name is (Y/N). What’s yours?”
“Lily,” the older girl said. “This is Ki-Kimmy.”
“Nice to meet you both.” You rose up and glanced behind you, only to see the tornado barreling towards you. “We’ve gotta get inside, okay?”
Both girls nodded. You scooped up Kimmy, who couldn’t have been more than four, and grabbed Lily’s hand.
“You have to run as fast as you can, okay?”
Lily nodded and squeezed your hand like her life depended on it.
As you ran down the street, Lily did her best to keep up with you. She was too big for you to carry—probably around seven years old—but she couldn’t run as fast as you.
The wind was truly howling at this point and debris had begun flying through the air, creating more obstacles for you to avoid. You could see the school building in the distance, but you began looking around to find a closer option. The tornado wasn’t going to wait for you to find shelter.
~~~~
Up ahead, Tyler had finally made it into the gym, but as he glanced around, he quickly realized you were no where to be found. He ran over to Boone and yelled “Where’s (Y/N)?”
“I thought she was with you!”
Tyler shook his head and took off towards the door. Boone ran after him, as did Lily and Dani. When he reached the exterior door, he pushed it open and ran into the street. He came to a stop when he saw the tornado looming—it would reach them in 30-45 seconds.
His friends yelled for him to come back inside, but he tuned them out when he spotted something that gripped his heart in terror—you. You were running in his direction, a child in your arms and another gripping your hand. You weren’t moving quickly—you’d begun limping from some unseen injury. It took him a split second to know you weren’t going to make it in time.
Boone seemed to clock it at the same time as Tyler, because he sprang forward and gripped his friend tightly. Tyler struggled to get out of his grip—desperate to get to you. “She’s too far!” Boone yelled. “We have to get inside!”
“I’m not leaving her!” Tyler argued.
You were too far for Tyler to make out your face, but he swore he heard your voice on the wind screaming for him to run.
All he could think about was getting to you, but he knew in his heart it wouldn’t do any good. You’d both die.
~~~~
When you saw Tyler standing outside the school, you felt a wave of fear. You screamed for him to run—but he seemed to move towards you instead. It took Boone, Lily, and Dani to hold him back and pull him towards the building.
You looked down at the little girl in your arms and made a choice—you had to do whatever you could to save them. You took one last look in Tyler’s direction, tears stinging your eyes as you turned and ran into the nearest building.
It appeared to be a barber shop, which wasn’t exactly the best place to be, but you knew there’d be a bathroom. That was your best bet, so you hurried to get the girls inside.
Some large piece of metal had flown by earlier and sliced your leg deeply, blood soaking your pants in a matter of seconds. It was painful, but you pushed down the pain to focus on the girls.
“Okay let’s get into the bathroom,” you told them. You shut the door and locked it, even knowing it wouldn’t do much. You guided Lily and Kimmy to the corner of the room, underneath the sink.
Kimmy had begun to cry harder, and her big sister tried to comfort her through her own terror. You got onto the floor with them, using your body as a shield as best you could.
“I want you both to hold onto the plumbing as tightly as you can, okay? Don’t let go.” You wrapped your arms around both of them and murmured, “It’s gonna be okay.”
You heard the screams of the wind intensify, and the walls of the building began to shake. You tightened your grip on the girls, sending up a silent prayer to every deity in existence.
You pictured Tyler’s handsome face in your mind and closed your eyes tightly. You heard the roof rip off the building a split second before the world went black.
**********
The moment the sounds of the tornado died away, Tyler was running towards the exit of the school. They’d been lucky—the tornado had done some damage to the building, but everyone huddled inside had been spared. The same could not be said for the rest of the street.
Tyler froze in place when he made it outside—the devastation so much worse than he’d pictured. He quickly recovered, taking off towards where he’d last seen you. He was yelling your name, praying for a response—but all he got was silence.
He couldn’t be sure which building you’d gone into in the small row of adjoined businesses, or if you'd made it inside at all. He scanned the wreckage for any sign of you, but saw none. He yelled your name again as he closed in on the area, but was once again met with silence.
He heard his friends yelling his name from behind him, but he didn’t dare break his focus. He needed to find you. He had to find you.
“(Y/N)!” He yelled one more time, desperation seeping into his voice.
A quiet voice responded, “Help!”
He knew it wasn’t your voice—it sounded like a child—but he moved towards it anyway.
“Where are you?”
“Here!” The small voice responded.
Tyler climbed onto the wreckage of the building and carefully moved closer to the voice. “Keep talking so I can find you.”
He started to move debris slowly, looking for the source of the voice. After several moments of shifting, he saw a sneaker—your sneaker.
“Please,” the little girl begged.
“I’m coming—don’t worry,” Tyler said in what he hoped was a soothing voice.
Boone and Lily had reached the wreckage and were making their way towards him. They were a few feet away when he lifted a large board and saw little hands reaching out from under it.
“Over here!” he yelled.
He shifted a little more with the help of the others and managed to pull out a little girl. She was very young and looked like she might have been the girl you’d been carrying.
Tyler handed her over to Boone who was waiting to get her out of there.
The other girl started to climb out and Tyler reached for her, helping her the rest of the way. When she was fully uncovered she said, “Please help her,” pointing down to where your body lay.
Tyler’s heart tightened in his chest, as he whispered a promise to do so. “What’s your name?”
“Lily.”
“Well, Lily…this is my friend Lily. She’s gonna help you out of here so I can help (Y/N), okay?”
The little girl nodded as Lily scooped her into her arms. “I’ve got her.”
By that time, Dex had arrived to help Tyler uncover your body the rest of the way. Once he was able to get to you, Tyler lifted you out of the debris and swiftly carried you out to the sidewalk, where other members of the town had begun to gather. The fire department was already on their way, along with paramedics. He could hear the sirens in the distance and willed them to get there as fast as possible.
As Tyler gently laid you down, he dropped to his knees beside you, feeling for a pulse with shaky hands. He couldn’t find one and his panic began to rise. It wasn’t until Dexter calmly laid a hand on his shoulder that he began to breathe normally.
“Let me see,” he said gently.
Tyler moved his hand to allow him to feel for a pulse. After a few moments, Dexter let out a relieved sigh. “She’s alive.”
Tyler felt like the ground had shifted under him—forcing a small cry of relief from deep in his chest. His eyes scanned over your battered body before landing on your blood-soaked leg. The jeans you were wearing were torn at the calf and blood was still seeping from a large gash.
He immediately tugged off his belt and slipped it under your thigh, pulling it as tightly as he could and securing it in place. The makeshift tourniquet wouldn't last long, but he hoped it would slow the bleeding at the very least.
The sirens were getting closer, but Tyler's anxiety remained at an untenable high. He continued scanning your body for other major injuries, only to determine your leg was likely the worst one. He knew you'd been hit in the head, but he hoped there was no internal bleeding. It wasn't even a thought he cared to entertain.
Tyler's attention shifted to the crowd when he heard a young woman's voice yelling the name 'Lily'. Tyler assumed it was the little girls' mother, but when she broke through the crowd, it was very clear she was too young to be a parent. Tyler estimated she was, at most, 19 years old.
When the girl saw Lily and Boone, each with a child in their arms, she nearly collapsed with relief. "I was so worried about you!" she admonished the younger Lily, reaching out for her hand.
"You left us!" the little girl yelled.
Tyler's blood ran cold, instantly realizing why you had been the one to save the children. "You left them alone?" he snapped at the teenager. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
"Woah, Tyler--take it easy, man," Boone said in an attempt to calm his friend.
"Take it easy? (Y/N) nearly died saving them!"
"I-I got scared," the teenager gasped.
"Scared?" Tyler said sarcastically. "You don't think those little girls were scared?"
Tyler was very aware he was being an asshole, but this girl had effectively put your life on the line and that was something he could not abide.
"She's just a kid, Ty," Dani interjected gently.
"Old enough to take care of kids on her own, so I think she's old enough to hear criticism." Tyler's rage was not going to be tamped down by anyone, even his friends. "If (Y/N) hadn't found them, they'd be dead. Hell, she might die for her trouble! How does that make you feel?"
The girl looked like she was close to tears, but Tyler was gearing up to yell some more. Her saving grace was the sight of an ambulance coming down the street.
Dani stepped out to flag down the driver, and Tyler's attention was immediately back on you and Dexter, who still knelt beside you on the ground.
The paramedics came running with a gurney and Tyler immediately began to relay your injuries to them. He wasn't entirely sure what happened, but he knew you'd lost a lot of blood.
Tyler faintly heard Lily and Boone talking with the teenager, and he assumed they were handing over the little girls. Frankly, he couldn't focus on anything other than the paramedics assessing you.
"We need to get her to the hospital," one of them said. "Her pulse is very faint."
Tyler's heart seized in his chest at those words. His expression must have given away his internal turmoil, because Dexter was soon beside him with a comforting hand on his shoulder.
Tyler watched as you were loaded onto the gurney and pushed back toward the ambulance. He followed without a second thought, insisting he ride with you.
"Do you want us to meet you there?" Boone called after him.
Tyler wasn't even sure if any of their vehicles had survived the storm, but he tossed his keys to his friend just before the ambulance doors slammed shut. He knew Boone would understand without him having to say a word.
~~~~
You awoke to the sounds of rhythmic beeping, accompanied by the unmistakable scent of hospital antiseptic. It took you mere seconds to realize you were in the hospital, and the events of the day came flooding back to you.
You weren't at all surprised to find yourself in a hospital bed, but you were more than a little surprised to find you'd actually survived. As the brain fog began to clear, you slowly opened your eyes, letting them adjust to the sudden change in light.
You blinked several times before any part of the room came into focus, and you noticed a pounding in your skull that seemed to be exacerbated by the bright lights. You let out a low, involuntary groan.
You heard the movement to your right before you realized someone else was in the room with you. Suddenly, Tyler was standing beside your bed, looking down at you with concern in his green eyes.
"(Y/N/N)?" he whispered tentatively.
You attempted what you hoped was a smile and murmured a soft, "Hi."
You watched Tyler's face as he went through a range of emotions, none of which you were able to catalog. Between the throbbing in your head and the speed with which his expression changed, the only one you were able to identify was relief.
"How do you feel?"
"Like a building fell on me," you muttered.
A shattered laugh left Tyler's lips and he shook his head in disbelief. "You're making jokes, so I guess that means you're okay."
"I feel like hell, but yeah, I'm okay." Your brain was still actively processing what had happened to you and you nearly yelled when you remembered exactly why you'd been separated from your friends. "The girls! Lily and Kimmy--are they okay?"
"Easy, sweetheart," Tyler said as he eased your shoulders back against the bed. "The girls are fine--thanks to you."
You relaxed instantly, truly relieved to hear they were okay. "Did you find their babysitter? She left them behind and I heard them crying-"
"Oh yeah, we found her. Gave her a hell of an earful for leaving those two alone."
You'd been planning on doing the same thing yourself, so you couldn't exactly blame Tyler. Only difference was, he was angry you'd been put in danger and you were angry the girls had been put in danger.
"They're lucky you found them," he added softly.
You nodded slowly. "I'm glad I did. Probably would have made it to the school too if I'd been a little more in shape."
Tyler's expression fell into confusion. "You were carrying a 30lb child, dragging another one behind you, and you had a leg injury. The fact you made it into a building at all is a testament to your strength."
You shrugged off his logical argument with your typical ease. "Piece of metal sliced my leg, but I wasn't moving fast enough before that."
"Don't belittle what you did, (Y/N). You saved two lives and you managed to come out the other side in one piece--mostly." His tone lightened on the last word, his attempt at a mood-lightening joke.
You offered him a small smile, but the shame lingered in you. Those girls might have stood a better chance at survival if you'd been able to run faster. Despite the fact you did save them, you felt guilty for not saving them well enough. It was the absolute stupidest thing to think, which is why you didn't dare voice it out loud. Tyler wouldn't understand--couldn't understand, and you didn't want to listen to him correct you any further.
The pain in your head had continued to increase the longer you were awake and you wondered if it was having an impact on your mood. You felt a wave of exhaustion all of a sudden--your face transitioning into a large yawn.
"You should get some more sleep," Tyler said instantly. "Do you need medication? Are you in pain or anything?"
"Pain meds, maybe?"
He nodded. "Let me go get the nurse."
He disappeared only to return moments later with a nurse in tow. She asked you how you were feeling, checked your vitals, and offered another dose of pain medication to help you sleep. You took it gratefully, praying for the pounding in your head to subside.
You felt your eyes begin to grow heavy, the sweet embrace of sleep just around the corner. "You don't have to stay," you whispered to Tyler.
"I'm not going anywhere." His tone left no room for argument or discussion, but you wouldn't have been able to anyways. Within moments you were drifting off into a dreamless sleep.
~~~~
Tyler sat quietly, watching you as you slept peacefully. He momentarily thought it might be a little creepy, but he decided since it was just to make sure you were okay, it was an acceptable action. At least, that's what he told himself.
He couldn't describe the feeling he had when he saw you lying in the rubble of the destroyed building, nor the feeling of seeing you in the hospital bed with all kinds of wires connected to you. He was beyond grateful you were alive, but his chest ached at the thought of you in any kind of pain.
To be fair, his chest had been aching since the moment he was separated from you on the street. Hell, even before that--although that ache had more to do with your emotional distance than the physical.
He was quite certain he would never forget the moment he realized you weren't in the gym--he'd never felt panic quite like it before. If his friends hadn't stopped him, he would have raced down the street to your side, even if it meant dying. He would have run headfirst into that tornado if it meant you'd be okay. He didn't care it was irrational, nor did he give a damn what the rest of the team thought. No one, not even Boone, knew how Tyler actually felt about you, but they'd all caught a glimpse of the depths of his emotions today.
In those last moments before Boone and Dani had dragged him back into the school, he'd thought he was seeing you for the last time. He'd been filled with regret ever since--imagining all the things he should have said and done and might never get to say or do.
When you opened your eyes and whispered his name, it felt like a second chance. Now was his chance to tell you everything he felt, all the things he'd carried in his soul for years, but never said. And if you weren't ready? He'd wait, for as long as it took. In those last moments, he'd accepted what he'd always known deep-down...you are his person. There would never be anyone else that could ever compare. If you didn't reciprocate his feelings, he'd respect it, but he'd never be the same.
All he could do for now was sit by your bedside and wait for you to get better, all while hoping against hope you loved him even half as much as he loved you.
**********
You slept off and on for several days, giving your body the time it needed to heal. Tyler was there every single time you woke up, and occasionally other members of the team were there too, but he was always the constant.
Lily had managed to drag him out of the room twice so he could actually take a shower and hopefully get some real sleep, but he came back from the motel still damp from his shower both times. She'd given up on trying to force him to eat, but she continued to bring him regular meals since he almost never left your side.
Everyone could see Tyler wasn't really sleeping, the dark circles under his eyes deepening with each passing day. No matter how hard they tried, none of them could get him to leave the hospital for more than an hour. He slept--poorly--in a chair beside your bed every single night for the week you remained in the hospital.
The day you were set to be discharged, Tyler was awoken by Lily's soft knock at the door. She poked her head in, smile on her face as she observed Tyler's disheveled appearance. Her smiled widened to a full grin when she met your soft gaze.
"You're awake!" she said happily as she came into the room.
Tyler turned his attention to you, a smile on his own face. His eyes, however, betrayed the worry he was clearly experiencing. He scanned your face, seemingly checking for any sign of discomfort.
"How long were you awake?" he asked softly.
You shrugged. "Just a little while."
In reality, you'd awoken an hour or so earlier, saw Tyler's sleeping form in the chair, and opted to let him rest. He looked so peaceful you couldn't bring yourself to disturb him.
"I actually brought someone with me," Lily began tentatively. "She's hoping to meet you, if you'd be comfortable with it."
You looked at your friend in confusion. "Who?"
"Lily and Kimmy's mother."
You inhaled sharply, eyes widening slightly. You looked to Tyler as if on instinct, hoping he'd have something to say. He simply smiled at you and murmured, "It's up to you, darlin'."
You bit your lip slightly, turning your attention back to Lily. You gave her a hesitant nod, and she broke into a wide grin.
"Excellent!" Lily popped her head out of the room and spoke to someone in the hallway. Neither you, nor Tyler, could hear what she said.
When she stepped back, two small figures rushed into the room and ran right to your bed. You recognized the two little girls in an instant, a small sound of joy slipping past your lips.
"(Y/N)!" little Lily cried as she climbed onto the bed.
You wrapped the little girl in a tight hug, a feeling of relief settling in your bones. Tyler had promised both girls were fine, but seeing them in one piece settled something in your chest you hadn't realized you'd been carrying.
Kimmy was smaller and unable to climb onto the bed, so Tyler leaned down and lifted her, placing her on your lap. She crawled up and laid her head against your chest, her small arms wrapping around you. You hugged her back, tears stinging your eyes.
"I'm so glad you two are alright!" you exclaimed.
Tyler took a step away from the bed, allowing a woman you'd never seen before to take a step forward. You knew just by looking at her this was Lily and Kimmy's mother--she looked so much like them.
"Hi," she said tentatively.
"Hi," you whispered in return.
"I'm Stephanie, Lily and Kimmy's mom."
You smiled. "Hi Stephanie. I'm (Y/N). It's a pleasure to meet you."
"The pleasure is all mine, truly." She turned to look at your Lily. "I managed to track your friend down, and she was gracious enough to agree to take me to see you."
You shot Lily a small smile. "I'm glad you did. Hearing the girls were okay was great, but seeing them made it so much more real for me. So thank you."
Stephanie looked surprised. "You're thanking me? No, no--you saved my daughters' lives. If it weren't for you, I-I...I can't even think about it."
You reached out and grabbed the other woman's hand, giving it a squeeze of comfort. "I'm glad I was there to help."
"Me too," she said softly, squeezing your hand back. "I was so worried when I heard about the storm, but I thought their babysitter would take care of them." She paused. "You didn't even know them and you still risked your life to save them. I can't thank you enough."
Tears had welled in her eyes and you knew matching ones had gathered in yours. Your voice caught in your throat, and as if Tyler could sense your inability to speak, he chimed in with a soft, "That's just who she is."
It was such a simple phrase, but it wrapped something warm and comforting around your heart and held it tightly. You knew, deep down, Tyler saw you that way--he was one of your closest friends, after all--but hearing him say it out loud warmed you in a way you weren't expecting.
You mouthed a 'thank you' to him and he merely nodded. He didn't need to be thanked for speaking the truth.
Stephanie cleared her throat lightly. "Plus, of course, the girls wanted to come and thank you themselves. Lily was especially worried about you."
You looked down at the two girls who were still holding onto you and smiled. "I'm all in one piece," you assured them, "and I have an excellent, if overzealous, caretaker."
Tyler grinned. "Guilty."
"You're the one that found us," little Lily said, pointing at Tyler.
A lump formed in his throat as he nodded, remembering the terror of digging for you in the rubble. "That's me."
Stephanie turned to him and offered her thanks to him as well.
"Not necessary," he insisted gently. "I needed to find my girl and I knew she'd had two little ones with her when I'd last seen her. I wasn't gonna give up easily."
You weren't sure if Tyler had meant to say it, or even realized the impact those two words would have on you, but when he said 'my girl', your chest tightened with an unmentionable ache.
Stephanie seemed to clock your surprise and made a quick mental calculation that you and Tyler clearly needed to talk alone. "Alright girls, we should get going. Miss (Y/N) will be going home soon, so she's gotta get ready."
The girls gave you one last hug before jumping off the bed, with a little assistance from Tyler. You waved goodbye to the trio and watched in silence as they walked out the door, leaving you, Tyler, and Lily alone.
"Lily, can you check on (Y/N/N)'s discharge paperwork?" Tyler asked her softly without looking in her direction.
"Sure!"
The moment she'd left the room, you opened your mouth to ask him about what he'd said, but he beat you to the punch.
"We have a lot to talk about," he murmured softly. "But I don't wanna do it in this damn hospital room."
You nodded.
"So we're gonna get you discharged, get you back to the motel, and then we'll talk, okay?"
You nodded again.
"Darlin'?"
"Sounds good," you managed to choke out. "Could we maybe pick up some real food on the way? I'm starving."
"Of course." His stomach rumbled as the words left his mouth, earning a light chuckle from him. "Apparently I'm rather hungry too."
Lily came back in with a nurse in tow, ready to begin your discharge process. The doctor had signed the paperwork, so you were good to go.
Tyler and Lily waited patiently for the nurse to unhook all the monitors and remove your IV. When you went to get out of the bed, Tyler was right there beside you, hand reaching for your back to steady you. He felt you tense beneath his fingers seconds before he realized your entire back was exposed in the hospital gown. He pulled his hand away, choosing instead to lay it on your arm for support.
You hadn't missed the speed with which he removed his hand, self-doubt creeping in almost instantly. You were so used to the way men had treated you most of your adult life that you weren't really surprised--just hurt.
Had you thought about it more rationally, you would have surmised Tyler didn't want to make you uncomfortable by touching your bare skin without permission--such actions would be in direct contrast with his southern gentleman sensibilities. You were not, however, thinking rationally. You'd fallen immediately back into old patterns, jumping to the worst (and likely wrong) conclusion.
Once you were steady on your feet, Lily handed you some clothes to change into. When you were fully dressed, Tyler assisted you into the wheelchair you were required to sit in to leave the hospital. Despite your instance that you could walk just fine, Tyler looked down at your bandaged leg, back up at you, and shook his head with a very stern expression. You opted not to argue, especially when the nurse said it was hospital policy.
In the parking lot, Lily held your hand as the two of you waited for Tyler to pull his truck up to the door. The nurse bid you farewell when the red Dodge came to a stop in front of you.
Tyler was out of the truck and by your side in the blink of an eye, ready to help you climb into the large vehicle.
"I got you, darlin'. Just lean on me and I'll give you a little lift."
You shot Tyler a look that said 'over my dead body', but he didn't pay you any mind. Instead, he decided to simply take matters into his own hands. Without a word, he leaned down and scooped you up into his arms, lifting you high enough to sit you on the passenger seat. You didn't have to so much as lift a finger. You did, however, gasp in shock, followed by multiple protests which all fell on deaf ears.
You were left with your not-so-clean thoughts as Tyler closed the passenger door and rounded the truck to climb into the driver's seat. You both said goodbye to Lily, who had driven one of the other vehicles to the hospital.
You'd always known Tyler was strong, hell he was built like a goddamn dream, but you didn't think he was strong enough to manhandle you quite like that. He had to lift you pretty high to get you into his truck, and he hadn't so much as let out a grunt. It was a turn-on you were trying very hard not to think about.
Little did you know, Tyler was also desperately trying not to think about it--the way you felt in his arms, warm and soft against his chest. He imagined what you'd feel like pressed against him in other ways, preferably without any clothes in the way. He shook his head in an attempt to rid his mind of images he absolutely should not be picturing with you sitting beside him, blissfully unaware.
The ride back to the motel was silent, it wasn't exactly uncomfortable, but it wasn't comfortable either. Both of you were so in your heads you couldn't manage to form a single coherent sentence. Especially Tyler, who was desperately trying to determine exactly what he was going to say to you when you got back to the motel.
**********
Tyler had stopped to pick up food for the both of you before returning to the motel. He insisted you come to his room since it was on the first floor and yours was on the second. He was not about to let you walk up all those steps, and you adamantly refused to allow him to carry you. Hell, he tried to carry you from the truck to his room, but you told him you were perfectly fine walking on your own. The little glare you shot him was just intense enough he opted not to fight you on it.
Your limp was very noticeable, and your movements were much slower than usual, so Tyler walked beside you, ready to reach out and grab you should you so much as wobble.
When you got to his room, he practically shoved you into a chair by the window. Some of the tension eased from his body once you were safely sitting down, but he still couldn't help but hover close by.
"I'm not an invalid, Ty," you muttered lightly. "And if you try to feed me, I will kill you."
He laughed heartily. "I wasn't gonna try and feed you, darlin'. I'd be too worried you'd kick my ass before that leg of yours is even healed."
You smiled. "Wise choice, Owens. Now give me my food."
"So demanding," he joked as he handed you the take out. He didn't admit it out loud, but there was a part of him that quite enjoyed those moments when you took charge. He liked your dominant edge, which wasn't something he'd ever liked in any other woman.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a truly obscene moan escaping your lips as you took your first bite of food. "God, I forgot what real food tastes like."
Tyler gave his best attempt at a laugh to try and cover his initial reaction to your moan. You weren't even at full strength yet and here he was imagining pinning you to the mattress and fucking your brains out just so he could hear more of those pretty little sounds. If he had more sense, he'd be embarrassed, but as it stood, he couldn't quite muster even a droplet of shame.
"Sit. Eat," you mumbled, mouth full of food.
"Classy," he chuckled.
You threw a balled up napkin at his head, which he dodged with ease.
"I had hospital food for an entire week, and I barely ate any of that," you grumbled. "And I know you barely ate, so shut up and eat something."
Tyler held up his hands in surrender, smile never leaving his face. He sat down at the table across from you and took his first bite. He groaned as the flavor hit his tongue, now understanding why you'd made a similar noise earlier.
You swallowed thickly and shifted slightly, thighs rubbing together under the table. You absolutely should not be getting turned on by the sounds this man was making while eating, but you had zero control of the need flooding through your veins.
Tyler's gaze remained focused on you, taking in every tiny micro expression he could glimpse. You felt like you were under a microscope, which only added to the self-consciousness you'd been feeling all day. It didn't help that you were actively shoveling food into your face, an action you were already embarrassed by.
"Do I have something on my face?" you asked.
Tyler blinked in surprise. "Huh?"
"Is there something on my face?" you asked again. "You're staring."
A light blush spread across his cheeks as he tore his gaze away from your face. "Sorry."
He didn't sound sorry, but you didn't have the confidence to point that out.
You finished eating in silence, the closer you got to the end of your meal, the more nervous you became. You wanted to get this conversation over with, but you weren't sure what he was going to say. It only added fuel to your anxiety.
Tyler graciously cleaned up the mess and threw out the trash, using the simple actions to ground himself before laying his heart bare to you. He was nervous as hell, and downright terrified of your reaction, but he wasn't going to back down now.
"Come sit on the couch with me," he suggested gently.
You looked over at the small couch and felt more anxiety pool in your gut. There was just enough room for Tyler to sit on one end and you to sit on the other with about a foot of space between you two.
You got up and started walking over to the couch, only to see Tyler plop himself down right in the middle of the damn thing. You froze about three feet away and gave him a look.
"Sit," he said, patting the spot to his left.
"There's no room," you argued.
Tyler looked at you, looked at the couch, then back at you. "There's plenty of space. Now come here."
You took another tentative step, hoping he would get the hint and move the fuck over. Tyler, of course, did no such thing. He simply waited for you to reach the edge of the couch before once again patting the space beside him.
You angled your body to face him and slowly lowered yourself onto the couch, tucking one leg beneath you and letting the injured one hang off the edge of the couch. Tyler wasted no time grabbing your injured leg and pulling it onto his lap.
You yelped in surprise and tried to remove it but he held firm. "You'll be more comfortable like this," he insisted.
You swallowed thickly, unable to find your voice. You decided there was no harm in allowing your leg to sit on his lap--it was just your leg, after all. You leaned back against the arm of the couch and started to twist the rings you always wore.
Tyler glanced down at your hands and knew you were nervous. You always fidgeted with your rings when you were nervous, anxious, or upset.
"You can relax, sweetheart," he murmured. "I'm not gonna hurt you."
"I know, but I have no clue what you're about to say, Tyler," you commented. "You know I have anxiety and the suspense is gonna kill me."
"Sorry, sorry. I'm just trying to find the right words."
"Maybe I can start?"
He looked a little surprised, but nodded his agreement.
"You, um-you called me your girl at the hospital earlier. Di-did you mean to?"
He was aching to grab your hand, but he wasn't sure it would be welcome yet, so he continued to rub soothing circles into your calf, carefully avoiding the bandaged stitches. "I meant it."
"Oh," you breathed. You weren't sure what to say after that, so you fell silent.
"I've wanted to call you that for a very long time, and it just slipped out. So I didn't exactly mean to say it, but I meant it, if that makes sense?"
You nodded, although you were unsure of how to feel in the moment.
"Good," he stated, eyes shifting to stare at the bandage on your leg. "I know things were kinda tense between us before all this happened and I don't really know why, but I wanted to apologize for whatever I did to upset you."
You inhaled sharply, immediately feeling bad for making him think it was his fault. "God, please don't apologize. You didn't do anything. I was just...in my head, and I took it out on you. I'm the one who should be doing the apologizing."
"You sure?" he asked tentatively.
"Very."
"What were you in your head about?"
"It doesn't matter."
"I think it might," he said softly. "Since I was the only one you seemed to have a problem with."
You winced slightly, the guilt only worsening. "You know how sometimes women get upset with their partners for cheating on them in their dreams?"
Tyler looked up at you, confusion clearly evident in his face. "What?"
"Like the woman dreamed her partner cheated on her and then she gets mad at him in real life, even though he didn't actually do anything wrong," you explained.
"Okay. I've heard of this, but what's that gotta do with anything?"
"Well, that's kinda how it was for me," you struggled to explain. "You didn't actually do anything to me, but I was upset with you for something that only existed in my head. Does that make sense?"
"I think so," he answered. "But what was in your head?"
You sighed. "That doesn't really matter, Ty."
"It does to me."
"Any chance you can just forget this part of the conversation happened?"
"Not a chance."
You groaned and buried your face in your hands. "I was just in my feels because of how I felt about you and knowing you didn't feel the same."
Your words were muffled by your hands, but he still heard every word. "How you felt about me?"
"Jesus," you grumbled. "You really gonna make me say it?"
He nodded, hands stilling against your leg. "Please--I need to hear you say it."
You lifted your head and met his sharp-eyed gaze. "I have romantic feelings for you."
"So you like me, but you didn't think I liked you in return?"
You nodded.
"Well what the hell would ever make you think that?"
You were surprised at the incredulousness in his tone. "I-I, well-uh-"
"Damnit, sweetheart--I've loved you every single damn day for the past three years. I don't know what I did to make you think that wasn't the case, but I'm sorry. You've owned my heart for so long I've forgotten what it feels like to not love you. Honestly, I don't want to remember. Especially not now."
You stared at him in silence for several moments. You hadn't expected him to say he loved you, and certainly not like that. You tried to formulate some kind of response, but everything you thought to say just didn't sound right.
You were silent for so long, Tyler started to feel uncomfortable. He'd laid his cards on the table and now he was worried you didn't like the hand he'd dealt.
"I know that's a lot to take in, (Y/N)," he started softly. "I didn't mean to dump it on you or anything, but I need you to know. I was so scared I'd never get to tell you I loved you. When I saw you running down the street with those girls...I thought that was it, I was seeing you for the final time. And I was so far away, I couldn't even scream the words to you--couldn't run to you--couldn't save you. I couldn't do a goddamn thing. If it weren't for Lily, Dani, and Boone, I would have run out there, baby. I would have run to you, even if it meant dying. That's how much I love you. I'd give my life for you."
Even with his previous statement, you weren't at all prepared to hear the level of emotion in his voice or the conviction in his words. You had to admit you hadn't fully believed him when he first said he loved you, but now? You heard it in his voice--the raw, deep emotion. You knew he meant every single word.
"When I saw you come out of the school, I was terrified," you admitted softly. His gaze flicked back to you as you continued. "I knew the tornado wasn't far behind me and I knew I wouldn't make it to the school. I thought it might be the end for me, but I couldn't stand the thought of you getting hurt. You took a step in my direction and I screamed at you to run. I needed you to run. I saw Boone, Lily, and Dani grab you, and I ran into that barber shop knowing they wouldn't let you risk your life. I knew you would be okay, and that was all I cared about."
His lips parted slightly and unshed tears filled his eyes. "I heard you--I heard you yell 'run'. I thought I'd imagined it."
"You didn't," you whispered.
He finally plucked up the courage to reach out and grab your hand. You let him hold it tightly, the feeling of his hand grounding you.
"When I pulled you out of the rubble of that building, I promised myself I would tell you how I felt no matter what. I wasn't even sure you were alive, but I knew I couldn't keep this bottled up any longer." He sighed. "It's why I couldn't leave your side while you were in the hospital. The idea of you waking up alone was unbearable for me, and I didn't want you to think for even a second I didn't care. And if I'm honest, a small part of me worried something would happen to you and I wouldn't be there. I couldn't stand the thought."
"I'm okay," you reassured him, squeezing his hand for emphasis. "We both made it."
"And I'll thank God for it every day for the rest of my life," he admitted. "Just like I thank him for putting you in my life."
You smiled and reached out to brush your fingers across his cheek. He leaned into the action and his eyes fluttered closed. You hadn't imagined a scenario where this would actually happen in real life, where you could touch him with affection and he wouldn't pull away. Something shifted inside you as the realization fully sunk in, Tyler Owens loves you.
"Can I kiss you?" you asked tentatively.
You were both a little surprised the words had come out of your mouth, but Tyler was more than happy to oblige.
"I've been dreaming about it for longer than I should admit." He tugged your hand a little, hinting at you to come closer. "Come here."
You were incredibly nervous, almost embarrassingly so. It's not like you'd never been kissed and you were far from a virgin, but there was something about kissing Tyler Owens that felt different--somehow more real than any kiss that came before.
You exhaled slowly and shifted your body, attempting to get closer to him without actually straddling him. Tyler evidently thought you were moving much too slowly because he grabbed ahold of your hips and tugged you onto his lap, careful to keep your injured leg out of harm's way.
You gasped as you were forcibly moved to his lap, everything suddenly feeling a thousand times more real. You placed your hands on his shoulders and put your weight on your knees to avoid actually sitting on him.
Tyler reached up and brushed your hair back from your face, eyes bright with emotion. You'd never seen him look at anyone the way he was looking at you--like nothing existed outside of you and this moment.
His hands were calloused but gentle as he cupped your face, pulling you into him. The kiss was soft, tentative, exploring--like he was trying to map the shape of your lips to draw them from memory in the future.
It wasn't an explosive kiss. There were no fireworks or lightning strikes. It was soft and tender, and you'd never felt more loved.
His hands started to wander as he deepened the kiss, one sliding into your hair and the other skimming down your back to pull you closer. He wanted to feel you--every inch of you. When his tongue slid across your lips, you allowed him entry, a soft sigh escaping the moment your lips parted.
The kiss was so much better than anything he'd imagined and lord knows he'd spent a lot of time imagining it. He did notice, however, you were a little more distant than he wanted you to be. He shifted his hips in an attempt to indicate his need, but you stiffened under his touch instead.
He broke the kiss, but his hands didn't leave your body. "You okay?"
You swallowed nervously. "Mhmm."
His eyes scanned your face and you knew you were done for. He could see the tension oozing from every pore in your entire body.
"Talk to me, baby. Did I do something you didn't like?"
"No-no," you blurted. "God, no. It's not you."
"Then what is it?" His eyes were pleading and it pulled at your heartstrings.
"Promise you won't get upset?"
He cocked his head to the side, confusion flashing across his face. "I promise."
"I don't really feel comfortable being...on top," you admitted quietly.
His confusion only deepened. "Why not?"
You stared at him for a moment, trying to suss out if he just wanted you to say it or if he truly didn't understand. After a few seconds, it was clear he really was in the dark. Some part of you found it rather endearing.
"My-uh, well-fuck," you muttered. "My size."
Tyler's brows knitted together for a split second before the meaning of your words actually sunk in. His jaw went slack and he stared at you like you'd just admitted you were an alien or something.
"What's your size have to do with anything? I'm a big man, babe. I can handle a woman with curves."
You tried for a laugh, but the sound came out more like a strangled whimper.
As quickly as his face had changed to surprise, you watched it snap into anger. His hands shifted to your hips and the grip he had on you was almost painfully tight.
"Did someone say you were too big to be on top?" he growled. "Who the hell made you feel like there was something wrong with you?"
You bit your lip and nodded, shame darkening your cheeks.
"Who was it?"
You could hear the low simmering rage beneath his words and it would have scared you had you not known him. "It wasn't just one person."
His eyes darkened and he exhaled heavily. "Well let me tell you one thing, sweetheart. I'm gonna be the one to change that narrative. I love the shape of your body."
His hands shifted to your sides. "I love the curve of your waist." His hands shifted down to your thighs. "I love the thickness of your thighs." He brought his hands around to give your ass a squeeze. "I love your perfect ass."
You giggled softly, blush deepening as his broad hands continued to roam your body.
"I love how round and full your breasts are," he muttered, gaze dipping to your rapidly rising and falling chest before looking back up at your face. "But most of all, I love your face--the way you smile when you're happy, the way your eyes light up when you're excited, the way you blush when you're embarrassed. I love it all, baby." He punctuated his last statement by running his fingers slowly across your cheeks, highlighting the rosy hue that lingered there.
You couldn't help the smile that spread across your face. You could feel his honesty in each word he said, and you'd never felt more appreciated. You knew you were pretty, but you'd been told hundreds of times that your weight took away from that beauty. Your size made you less than. No matter how high your self-esteem is, or how much you try to love yourself, those words start to sink in...and you start to believe them.
Now, looking at this incredible man who so clearly adores you, you can't help but feel beautiful under his gaze. You couldn't remember the last time a man had made you feel beautiful--certainly not like this. Maybe this is what it feels like to be loved.
Maybe he deserved to hear it too. "You make me feel beautiful," you whispered.
He smiled. "You are beautiful."
You matched his smile as you leaned in to kiss him again. He wasted no time in pulling you closer, wanting to feel every inch of you pressed against him.
You slowly eased down onto his lap, relieving the tension in your legs as you settled onto his thighs. The moment you did, you felt his very hard erection straining against his jeans, and you rubbed against him gently.
He let out a low groan and gripped your hips. You smirked into the kiss and began to grind down on him with a little more force. You gasped breathily into his mouth and he cursed lowly.
His hands slid up under the hem of your shirt, palms warm against your skin. He felt the tension sink back into your body for a moment, but you forced yourself to relax. You didn't want him to stop and you trusted him fully. You just needed to push the demons of your past aside for long enough to let his love take over.
"Can I?" he whispered, tugging the shirt up slightly.
He could see the nervousness in your face, but you nodded slowly. He lifted the shirt off and over your head, gaze dropping down to take in the newly revealed skin.
When his eyes lifted back to yours, you saw the hunger in them. Every ounce of self-consciousness faded away, leaving you open and vulnerable with the person you loved most.
Tyler saw it too--the moment you let yourself really feel his love. "You're perfect," he murmured, leaning down to press soft kisses to your collarbone and the tops of your breasts.
Your head tilted back and your fingers twisted into his hair, as you let yourself get lost in the feeling of him. You felt his hands work the clasp of your bra, releasing it with expert ease. You let the garment slide off your arms, tossing it to the floor.
Tyler's eyes were glued to your now exposed breasts. His tongue darted out to wet his lips and he softly gripped one in each of his hands.
"Fuckin' perfect," he muttered to himself before dipping his head to suck your nipple into his mouth.
You tried so hard to focus on his actions, but the way he nipped and sucked and fucking kneaded your breasts made it impossible to focus on anything other than your pleasure. Your fingers tightened in his hair, holding him against your chest as you ground down on his now painfully hard cock.
His hips shifted up against you involuntarily, pressing his erection against your core. You let out a soft cry of need--the sound rushing straight to his cock. He was dying to feel you wrapped around him, but he knew he needed to take his time. He'd be damned if you didn't enjoy this as much as him--if not more.
When he finally released your breasts and met your gaze, his pupils were so wide you couldn't see his irises. You knew your own likely looked the same as the need for him grew with each passing moment.
He didn't say a word as he wrapped his arms around you and stood up--forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist so you wouldn't fall.
"Tyler!" you gasped in surprise.
He just grinned and carried you over to the bed, laying you down gently. He knew exactly what kind of effect that action would have on you and he wasn't disappointed. You were looking up at him like you wanted him to devour you and he was more than happy to oblige.
He quickly discarded his shirt before reaching to undo his belt. He paused when he heard the sharp exhale leave your lips.
"Jesus Christ you're built," you gasped, eyes widening in shock and embarrassment as the words left your mouth unbidden.
Tyler couldn't help but grin. He'd never really been cocky about his appearance, but he wasn't stupid. He knew he looked good...but seeing you look at him like that? He'd never felt hotter in his life.
"Lose the pants so I can touch you," you demanded as you sat up slightly to get a better look.
He laughed warmly, the sound wrapping itself around your heart and making you smile. "I like when you're bossy."
You grinned. "I'll remember that."
He took the belt off, followed by his jeans. "Am I gonna regret admitting that?"
You bit your lip as your eyes trailed up and down his mostly naked body. "I'll make sure you don't."
Something about the way you said it sent a shiver of desire down his spine. He had a feeling you'd wield that particular power unnaturally well...and to his benefit.
He climbed onto the bed, crawling up your body until he hovered over you. You felt small under him--a new feeling you knew you'd never get enough of.
"I think you're at an unfair advantage, baby," he pouted.
Your brows knit together in confusion.
He glanced down at your shorts, then back up at your face. "I think those need to go. It's only fair."
You grabbed his hand and placed it on the waistband of your shorts. He took the hint and immediately unbuttoned them. You lifted your hips to allow him to slide them off, and to your surprise he took your underwear with them.
You were completely bare beneath him and his eyes took in every inch of exposed skin like it was a prize awarded to him alone.
"I think you're gonna be the death of me," he whispered, hooded eyes meeting yours again.
"The feeling's mutual," you whispered back. You reached up to touch his face, needing to feel him in order to ground yourself in the moment. "Please kiss me."
He was more than happy to give in to your request and he leaned down to press his lips against yours in a greedy kiss. He supported himself on his right hand so he could touch you with the left. Every inch of skin his fingers grazed was left covered in goosebumps as his hand traveled farther down your body.
His new proximity allowed you the opportunity to touch every inch of him your hands could reach, and touch you did. You ran your fingers down the hard planes of his chest and abdomen, across his broad shoulders and strong back, even grazing the globes of his ass with your nails.
He let out a hiss and nipped at your collarbone, a reaction you tucked into the back of your mind for later. Your hands slid up his back and into his hair, maneuvering his head so you could kiss him again.
He shifted slightly, putting his weight on his left hand and tracing the curves of your body with his right. "So soft," he murmured against your lips.
You sighed into the kiss and arched your back slightly, brushing your chest against his. He moaned softly at the feeling, immediately deciding he couldn't wait any longer to touch you properly.
He dipped his fingers between your legs, collecting the slick lingering there. You gasped breathily and he pulled away long enough to slip his wet fingers into his mouth. He moaned at the taste as he cleaned them, never breaking eye contact with you.
When he slipped them back between your legs, you were nearly breathless with want. His fingers were gentle against you, barely grazing your clit. You needed more pressure, more movement, more everything. You were about to voice as much when he started to kiss his way down your torso, very clearly heading for the place you needed him so desperately.
He took his time, riling you up even further until you were a whimpering mess beneath him.
"Please, Tyler," you begged.
"Please what?" he asked softly.
"Stop teasing me. I need you."
He smirked as he pressed a kiss to your mound. "I know you do, baby, but you've gotta be patient."
You tried to buck your hips up against him, but his strong hands held your hips in place. You whined loudly.
"Be a good girl for me and stay still."
You exhaled a breathy moan that let him know exactly how much you liked his words.
"You want that, huh? You wanna be my good girl?" His breath fanned across your core with each word he uttered and it made your legs shiver with need.
"Yes! Wanna be good for you," you cried.
Tyler smiled and shifted to lay down properly between your legs, draping one arm across your lower belly to hold you in place while the other slipped between your folds. His tongue followed suit.
As teasing as Tyler had been thus far, his first lick was anything but tentative. He licked a fat stripe up your pussy before wrapping his lips around your clit.
You would have jacked your hips right off the bed if it wasn't for his strong arm holding you still. Your fingers of one hand scratched against his scalp and the other twisted in the sheets beside you.
You'd always imagined Tyler would be extremely good with his mouth, but your imagination paled in comparison to the real thing. He ate you out like it was his favorite thing to do--like there was no where else in the world he would rather be.
He took his time learning what you liked, paying attention to every movement and sound you made, no matter how small. Your orgasm slammed into you seemingly out of no where, but Tyler kept up his ministrations. He wasn't ready to stop tasting you and you weren't going to fight him on it.
When your second orgasm crested, he helped you ride out the waves, tongue and fingers working you through it until you tugged on his hair painfully hard.
You could barely breathe from the pleasure, but you managed to whimper a soft, "sensitive."
Tyler crawled back up your body, eyes on your face as you caught your breath. His gaze was almost painfully affectionate and it made your heart beat erratically. You reached up and touched his cheek, and he leaned into your hand with a soft sigh.
"I don't think I'll ever get enough of your taste," he murmured, turning his head to kiss your palm. "I'll never get enough of you."
You blushed, an involuntary smile spreading across your face. "Where'd you learn to be so sweet?"
"Just the way I am, darlin'," he teased softly.
"You know, I think you might be right." You pulled him back down to you for a kiss, and when you separated, you asked him another question. "Do you think I could-maybe-uh...could I ride you?"
Tyler's eyes snapped shut and he groaned deep in his throat. "I would love nothing more, baby."
He rolled over onto his back and settled against the bed, ridding himself of his boxer briefs hastily. He reached for you to help you straddle him, your movements a little clumsy with your bad leg. Once you were comfortable, you leaned down to kiss him deeply.
Tyler's hips bucked up against yours and you both moaned into the kiss. His body ached for you in a way he was unfamiliar with. He couldn't recall ever needing anyone the way he needed you.
"Baby, I need to feel you," he begged.
You pressed down against him, dragging his cock through your slick. You both gasped, but you recovered first. You leaned down and brushed your lips against his ear, "Beg for it."
Tyler's eyes widened and he inhaled sharply. You pulled back to get a good look at him, a small smirk dancing across your lips.
"Please, sweetheart--I need you."
"You can do better than that," you chastised as you ran a single nail down the center of his chest.
"I need you so badly. Never needed anyone like this," he babbled. "Wanna make you feel so good, baby. Please."
You smiled, clearly pleased. "Much better."
You gripped his cock firmly, lining it up with your entrance. He was larger than you were accustomed to, but you were more than ready to take him. You slowly sunk down on him, moaning at the stretch and the fullness.
Tyler's eyes fluttered closed as he got lost in the sensation of you squeezing his cock. His entire focus was on not coming embarrassingly early, and his breathing was already unsteady.
Once you were fully seated, you stilled, allowing yourself time to adjust to his size. "You're so big," you whimpered.
Tyler couldn't help the soft chuckle that left his lips. "You're so damn tight."
His eyes opened, breath catching in his chest as he took in the sight before him. Your hands were resting on his hips, eyes closed, lips slightly parted, breathing shallow. You were a vision he desperately wanted to commit to memory.
Your own eyes fluttered open when you were finally ready to move, but any thought of action slipped from your mind when you saw the way he was looking at you. "Ty?"
"You're the sexiest goddamn thing I've ever seen," he whispered.
You blushed deeply, eyes dropping to stare at the bed instead of his intense gaze.
He sat up, slipping his hand under your chin to lift your gaze back to his face. "Look at me, beautiful."
You managed to meet his eyes, instantly breathless from the way he looked at you. The love in his eyes warmed you and the desire in them sent shivers up your spine. Your lips parted slightly, which he took as an invitation to kiss you.
He wrapped his hand around your neck, never breaking the kiss as he pulled you back down with him. When he finally released you, both of you were breathless and full of need.
You sat back up, placing your hands on his chest for support. He could see the nervousness in your eyes, so he gave you a reassuring smile.
You started to move your hips, slowly at first, trying to get a feel for a rhythm that worked for you both. "Tell me if I do something wrong," you pleaded. "I've never really done this before."
Tyler was breathing heavily already and you'd barely done a damn thing. "I can't tell, baby. You can't do it wrong, so just do what feels good to you."
You blushed. "I want it to be good for you too."
Tyler's hands landed on your hips, giving them a firm squeeze. "I'm doing math in my fucking head to keep from coming right now--I promise you, sweetheart, it's more than good for me."
You laughed lightly, the action making you squeeze his cock a little tighter. His eyes snapped shut and he went back to focusing on keeping his cool--every sensation so incredible it was hard for him to breathe.
Much like Tyler had done with you while eating you out, you were paying attention to the things he seemed to enjoy. When his grip on you tightened, or his eyes squeezed shut, or he gasped...and all the moans and groans that slipped past his lips let you know exactly how good you were making him feel.
You'd found the perfect rhythm for you and the way Tyler's fingers dug into your hips told you he liked it too. You were close to another orgasm when his grip tightened so much it stopped you in your tracks.
"Gotta stop, sweetheart or I'm gonna come," he ground out.
"Isn't that the point?" you asked breathlessly.
"Not until I feel you come on my cock."
Before you realized what was happening, he flipped you over onto your back, cock never leaving the warmth of your pussy.
"I wanna be able to watch you come apart for me, baby," he said softly. "And if I let you keep riding me, I'd miss it."
You looked confused, so he elaborated. "You looked so fucking good riding me, I nearly lost control, so I had to close my eyes."
Your blush deepened. "Ty..."
He moved his hips slowly, pushing a soft moan from your lips. "Yeah, baby?"
"Ruin me," you begged softly.
"Fuck," he growled, hips immediately shifting to a faster pace. He slammed into you with a shocking amount of force, and when you wrapped your legs around him to pull him farther in, his cock hit your g-spot.
You cried out, pussy squeezing him tighter than you ever had.
"That it?" he asked. "Right there?"
You nodded rapidly, a shattered "please" the only word you could muster.
"I've got you, baby," he assured you, pace never faltering.
Each thrust sent waves of almost painful pleasure through your body, pushing you closer and closer to your peak. Your nails dug into his back, gripping him like he was your life raft in the middle of the ocean.
"You gonna come for me, pretty girl? Wanna see it--wanna watch you fall apart."
Your lips parted in a silent cry, back arching against him. He held you tightly, desperate to keep up his pace until you came. With one last slam of his hips, you shattered around him, his name ripped from your throat with a hoarse cry.
Your pussy spasmed as you rode out the waves of pleasure with him, his pace becoming erratic as he chased his own high. He came with a curse of your name, warm ropes of cum spilling out as his thrusts began to slow.
Now completely spent, Tyler collapsed on top of you, still careful not to put all of his weight on you. Even in the haze of incredible sex, he didn't want to crush you.
You came down from your high first, breathing slowly returning to normal. You ran your fingers through his hair, gently scratching your nails against his scalp.
He sighed in contentment, loving the feeling of your hands on him. After several minutes of quietly breathing together, he finally lifted himself off you, now softening cock slipping from your core.
A small gasp left your lips, but he covered it with a gentle kiss. "Shower?" he asked softly.
You let out a groan that told him all he needed to know.
He chuckled softly. "Alright, I'll be right back."
You felt cold and alone the moment he left you, a small wave of anxiety creeping up on you in the stillness. You tried to push it away, but it began to eat at you the way it always did.
Memories of past encounters with men flooded your mind, all the ones that only wanted to fuck you and then leave. The ones who would never want to be seen with you in public. The ones who took what they wanted from your body and gave nothing in return.
You had no reason to think of those things--Tyler wasn't like any of those men. But a tiny voice in the back of your mind whispered lies you'd heard before. He only fucked you because he felt sorry for you. He regrets it now that it's over. You're nothing more than a decent lay--you mean nothing to him.
Tyler came out of the bathroom with no idea you were in the middle of an anxiety-induced meltdown. He was holding a warm washcloth in his hand, but as he climbed onto the bed again to clean you up, he froze.
Your eyes were squeezed shut, but that hadn't prevented the tears from escaping. His heart clenched in his chest, a spark of fear racing through him.
"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" he asked softly, voice incredibly gentle. "Did I hurt you?"
You shook your head, but your eyes remained shut.
"Can you look at me, darlin'?"
You shook your head again.
"Please, (Y/N)," he pleaded. "I need you to look at me."
The way he said your name had you forcing your eyes open to look at him. You saw the concern in his face and it made you feel terrible--terrible for thinking he would ever treat you the way the men in your past had. It wasn't that you believed the voices...it was the shame you felt for letting them in at all.
He reached out and wiped the tears from your eyes. "Talk to me, sweetheart. Tell me what's wrong."
"It's stupid," you whispered.
"Nothing you feel is stupid."
That only made the tears come faster and he immediately felt terrible. "Shit, I'm sorry--I'm not trying to make it worse."
"You're not," you blubbered. "It's not you. You're perfect."
"Then what is it?"
You didn't really know how to explain it without sounding stupid or crazy, but you owed it to him to try. "I know you love me," you started slowly. "I know it. But there's a little voice in the back of my head that lives to make me question everything."
He waited quietly, unsure of where this was going.
"Sometimes it sounds like people from my past, sometimes it sounds like me, and sometimes it's just a voice telling me I'll never be good enough."
He grabbed your hand and gave it a comforting squeeze, further underscoring how incredibly understanding this man was.
"I know it's irrational, but sometimes it gets to me...even when I know it's not true."
"What did it say?" he asked softly, finally seeing where this was going.
"That you don't really love me--that you regret what we did. That you feel sorry for me and I mean nothing to you at all," you whispered. "I know none of that is true and I'm so ashamed for thinking it for even a moment."
"Sweetheart," he consoled gently. "You don't have to feel ashamed. Sometimes our brains run down rabbit holes without our permission. As long as you know I love you and I don't regret a single moment with you, then that's what matters. I'll tell that voice in your head to shut the fuck up any time it rears its ugly head. You just gotta tell me."
You looked up at him, an overwhelming amount of gratitude flowing through you. You'd never felt so loved in your life, but perhaps more importantly, you'd never felt more understood--more seen.
"Thank you," you murmured. "I love you, Tyler."
He offered you a small smile. "I love you too, (Y/N)." He glanced down at the washcloth in his hand. "Well this is cold now, so let me go wet it again."
You laughed and tried to tell him it was okay, but he brushed you off and went to the bathroom to warm it up. When he came back, he cleaned you up gently and thoroughly, making you feel even more loved than you had before.
When he finished, he tossed the washcloth into the bathroom, grabbed a clean shirt from his bag and handed it to you. "I know you don't like to sleep naked."
You smiled and pulled the shirt on. "I hate the feeling of my boobs touching my arm."
He laughed. "That's such a specific thing."
"I know! You don't get it because you don't have boobs."
He laughed harder. "I think that's something you like about me, though."
"True. It's a positive, for sure."
He'd tugged his boxer briefs back on and stood at the end of the bed, watching you with his arms folded across his chest.
"You look like a model when you stand like that."
"You're absurd," he joked as he fell face-first onto the bed beside you.
"I just call it like I see it."
He pulled a pillow under his head, wrapped his arms around it, and shot you a grin. "So you're saying you think I'm hot."
"I would think that was evident by the sex we just had."
"Damn--just a warm body to you, huh?" he teased.
You smacked his arm affectionately and rolled away from him, so your back faced his direction. "Rude."
He laughed and rolled after you, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you into his chest. "I love you."
You smiled and turned your head to look at him. "I love you too."
He kissed you sweetly, grip never loosening as he held you close. You'd never felt so comfortable with someone before, and maybe that's how you knew it was real. It wasn't about the passion or the sex...it was about the ease you felt in the quiet moments, the laughs you shared, and the love that left its imprint on your soul.
Can you write a fic between Bucky and an avenger reader (maybe she’s just a little older than Peter (like she’s in her mid 20s)and she always had a crush on Bucky)
notes: thank you for sending this in ! i hope you enjoy
warnings: fluff, mentions of night terrors
summary: you think you’re too young for Bucky to be interested in you. ironically, Bucky thinks he’s too old for you to be interested in him
“So how did that date go?” Wanda asks while watching you mindlessly scroll through the selection of movies Tony has on the entertainment room TV.
“I bailed,” Natasha admits shamelessly with an innocent shrug, prompting both Wanda and yourself to turn to her in shock. “I’m not really interested in giving up my personal time for something as trivial as a blind date.”
You hum thoughtfully at her response, only half listening as Wanda begins to pester her for more details about the man she had stood up. The three of you are enjoying a rare night of peace in the tower after forcing the men to vacate the premises and allow you to have the space to yourselves. The three of you are outnumbered on the team, so sometimes a break from the intense amounts of testosterone are needed for you all to decompress. Girl’s night is a simple tradition, but you all enjoy each other’s company more than anything.
“What about you, y/n?” Natasha prompts while gently nudging your side and breaking you from your daze. “Any guys out there you think are first date material?”
You shift uncomfortably now that the spotlight is on you and try to mask the embarrassment that washes over you in response to the question. You know your answer, but you think you’d rather die than admit the truth. You try to remain as nonchalant as possible by offering a seemingly uninterested shrug and answering with a quiet ‘No,’ but you unfortunately can’t hide the truth from a mind reader.
“She has a crush on Barnes,” Wanda blurts out before she can stop herself, causing your eyes to widen in horror at being exposed. Natasha lets out an amused huff while her counterpart quickly utters out apologies. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to say it. It’s just your thoughts get so loud when you think about him.”
“You don’t need to be a mind reader to know that,” Natasha jokes much to your dismay.
“Is it really that obvious?” You groan before allowing your head to fall back against the couch in defeat. Wanda pats your arm sympathetically, obviously still guilty about her slip up. You’re just thankful no one else is in the tower other than the three of you.
“Not to him,” the Widow consoles with a faint smile, “the man isn’t exactly the greatest at navigating social interactions. But I’ve seen the way you look at him from across the room and how your eyes light up when Steve puts you together on missions. You like him.”
“It’s pathetic, I know,” you admit with a defeated sigh, looking between the two in despair. “I don’t even know how it happened! One day we’re just teammates and the next I’m suddenly realizing just how blue his eyes are instead of paying attention to a debrief.”
“There’s nothing pathetic about your feelings,” Wanda says with a comforting smile, “it’s only natural. Maybe you should try talking to him about it.”
You look at her as if she’s grown a second head before scoffing at her suggestion. “You’re kidding, right? There’s no way I’d ever be his type. Besides, he probably sees me as some kid considering I’m only twenty-six and he’s basically a hundred years old.”
Natasha can’t help but to let out a small chuckle at your predicament before taking the remote from your fidgety hands. You don’t exactly appreciate her amusement towards your self-depreciating rant, but you know she means well, and you also know you have a tendency to be a bit dramatic.
“Don’t sell yourself short, y/n/n,” she advises before finally deciding to hit play on a random comedy movie. “Remember that you’re the prize, and any guy or girl would be lucky to have you. Besides, you’ll never know what could happen if you don’t give it a shot.”
The conversation ends there as your trio becomes engrossed with the movie, but her words linger on your mind for the rest of the night. You really doubt Bucky could have anything but platonic feelings for you, and it would be embarrassing to confess your feelings only to have him shoot you down. You don’t think you could show your face around the tower again if that were to happen, but you also know that you would give anything to win the super soldier’s heart.
Your inner turmoil persists, and you go to bed that night unsure of how to move forward.
~~~
“Barnes, y/l/n, how are you holding up?”
“We’re pretty much fucked, Cap,” you grunt into your earpiece after being slammed against a wall. You thought the room had been cleared, but you were soon proven wrong by the assailants who had been hiding in the shadows waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Bucky was currently taking on three on his own while you tried to fight off the woman who seemed hell bent on killing you. “If I survive this will I still be written up for swearing?”
“Focus, y/n,” Natasha’s voice chimes in. “Do you guys need backup?”
You manage to chance a glance over at Bucky and see that he’s fairing rather well on his own, and after returning your attention back to your own attacker, you swiftly lift your knee so that it slams into her gut and forces her to stumble back. It doesn’t take you long to disarm her and render her unconscious so that she no longer proves to be a threat, and you’re finally able to return to your own task.
“No, we’re good. Bucky should be able to hold them off while I plant the chip into the computer system,” you finally reply before setting to work. “It shouldn’t take long.”
“I hope so because they’ve got reinforcements already on the way,” Tony alerts over the earpiece. “You need to be out of there within the next five minutes.”
“Yep, you got it,” you affirm before looking over your shoulder to see Bucky finishing off the last of your attackers. His broad shoulders rise and fall with his labored breaths, hair falling perfectly into place and blue eyes looking up to meet your gaze. You swallow nervously and return your attention to the computer in an attempt to act inconspicuous. Luckily for you, the files you came for have been uploaded. “Alright, let’s get out of here before someone slams me up against another wall.”
“What?” Bucky retorts, eyebrows scrunched in confusion and cheeks slowly turning red at your poor choice of words. You pay him no mind and begin your trek towards the exit, though your stomach flips at the mere thought of having him cage you in against a wall and having you at his complete mercy. You shudder and try to shake the thoughts away, but it’s hard to do so when the man in question is right beside you matching your brisk pace.
“You okay?” He asks, eyes scanning your figure for any sign of injuries.
“Definitely going to have a bruise in the morning, but it’s nothing I can’t handle,” you note with an easygoing smile.
“I’m on dinner duty tonight,” Bucky notes thoughtfully before kicking down the doors and clearing your path to the outside. “You interested in lending a hand?”
“Oh, definitely. You and Steve can’t be trusted with dinner anymore after the last time.”
“I’ll have you know tuna casserole was a popular dish back in my day,” he retorts defensively only to make you laugh instead.
“Okay, grandpa, whatever you say,” you giggle much to his annoyance. He retaliates by playfully nudging your side with his elbow so that you stumble away, but he can’t hide the amused smile on his face at your antics.
“It’s about time,” Tony retorts impatiently after you two finally make it to the Quinjet. “I’d appreciate some sense of urgency, you know.”
“You said be back in five minutes, it’s only been three,” you reply defensively only to earn an eye roll from the man.
“You and Barnes can flirt with each other on your own time,” he quips to your dismay. You immediately feel yourself heat with embarrassment and do everything your power to avoid looking at Bucky who shifts uncomfortably beside you.
“We weren’t-“ Bucky starts to say only for Tony to interrupt.
“I don’t need the details, I just need both of your butts on the quinjet now.”
You’re mortified as you step foot inside where the rest of the team sits waiting. All eyes land on you and Bucky, and you try to ignore their gazes as you take your seat beside Wanda.
“If it makes you feel any better,” she whispers after leaning in closer to you, “his thoughts about you are loud, too.”
You swallow nervously and chance at a peek at the super soldier only to find he’s already looking right at you. You immediately turn your gaze towards the floor before sinking down sullenly into your seat.
It’s going to be a long flight home.
~~~
The tower is silent when you make your way to the living room in search of a distraction from the terrible nightmare you’d just endured. Your body still trembles with unease despite the blanket you have wrapped tightly around your figure, and it was times like these where you heavily contemplated begging Wanda to use her powers on you despite her reluctance to manipulate your mind.
There isn’t anything good playing this late on TV, but you don’t mind watching reruns of old sitcoms if it means you don’t have to sit in silence. You fixate your gaze on the screen, but you’re hardly paying any mind to your surroundings as you simply begin to dissociate. No one knows about the night terrors or the bad dreams that plague you after missions; you fear coming off as weak or unprepared for the life of an Avenger by telling any of your teammates about your dilemma, so you’ve learned to deal with it on your own by escaping through trivial distractions.
You’re so lost in thought that you don’t detect the presence of someone else in the room until a hand rests on your bare shoulder. You jump, obviously startled as your wide eyes look to the perpetrator sitting beside you. Bucky immediately yanks his hand back and raises his hands in surrender, his features apologetic at having startled you.
“Sorry, sorry,” he immediately says. “I tried calling your name first but you weren’t exactly responding. You okay?”
“Yeah, I um- sorry,” you utter with a soft shake of your head before swallowing, “I just got lost in thought I guess.”
“Anything you want to talk about?”
You normally would have insisted you were fine and tried to change the topic, but there was something about the gentleness in his eyes and the comfort his presence brought you that made it easier for you to open yourself up. You sigh, shifting in place so that you’re facing him now. He offers you a an encouraging smile and already you can feel yourself melting.
“Sometimes I have night terrors,” you confess quietly, almost embarrassed to admit it out loud. “They usually tend show up after a mission or an intense fight. When they happen I just come out here and watch some TV until my brain shuts up enough for me to get some sleep. Pathetic, huh?”
Despite the humorless laugh you let out, Bucky frowns before uttering, “I don’t think that’s pathetic at all. I get it. This job is tough, and sometimes you see things you can’t unsee no matter how hard you try. Don’t beat yourself up for having a normal human reaction to trauma.”
“You sound just like a therapist,” you tease, prompting him to let out a sheepish laugh in return.
“I may have picked up a thing or two in therapy myself,” he admits. A beat passes before he takes your hand in his own and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “Just know that if you ever need help chasing the nightmares away, I’m right here.”
Your heart pounds in your chest while the warmth of his hold encompasses your hand and spreads throughout your entire body. His eyes are full of sincerity, but you also detect something that you’ve never seen from him before. This look is different than the ones he normally gives you, more intimate, and you find yourself nervously biting the inside of your cheek while trying to decipher what it could be.
“Thank you,” you finally voice with a tired smile. Wanting to lighten the mood, you ask, “How come you’re up this late, anyway?”
“Made the mistake of having a cup of coffee after dinner,” he confesses with an embarrassed chuckle. “You mind if I keep you company?”
“Of course not, silly,” you retort as if it’s the most absurd question you’ve ever heard.
You and Bucky settle into a comfortable silence as you tune in to the sitcom playing on the TV screen. A sense of calm has washed over your body now that you’re no longer being tormented by the remnants of your nightmare, but there’s still a part of you that remains nervous around the man you secretly harbor feelings for. You find your mind drifting back to what Wanda had said you earlier and wonder if there was any truth to her words. What did she mean by it?
“Can I ask you something?” Bucky prompts after the episode ends.
“Anything,” you reassure him, grabbing the remote to lower the television’s volume so that he can have your undivided attention.
“I know it’s just your way of poking fun at me, but when you call me ‘grandpa’ or ‘old man,’ is that… that’s not how you see me, is it? Old?”
You’re honestly taken back by his comment, not expecting him to have thought this heavily into the subject. Of course you knew the man was out of his time, and if he had been given the chance to age naturally you most likely would not be sitting here on this couch with him, but you had never thought less of him because of the fact.
“No, of course not! Honestly sometimes I forget you’re technically 106.”
Bucky lets out a chuckle at that, but there’s still doubt lingering on his features as he self-consciously looks down at his hands in his lap. “I just see you with Peter and Wanda sometimes and wonder if I’m too old for you to be hanging around with.”
You shift closer to Bucky so that you can rest a comforting hand on his bicep, prompting him to lift his head and meet your softhearted gaze. Your entire being emanates warmth and tenderness, and it draws the soldier right in to you. You have no idea the effect you have on him or the way a single brush of your fingertips against his skin can satiate the yearning he feels every time he looks at you. Wanda had been telling you the truth; his thoughts are always loud when you’re around him.
“I guess sometimes it’s easier to connect with them considering we’re closer in age, but I like that you and I are so different because of it. I think there’s more to learn with you and more to appreciate. I genuinely enjoy any minute that’s spent with you,” you confess adamantly, prompting the corner of his lips to quirk up. “Besides, it’s going to take a lot more than a number to scare me away from you.”
Bucky only responds by wrapping his arms around your frame and pulling you into a long awaited hug. You try to stifle your gasp of surprise at suddenly being so close to him, and you hope he doesn’t pick up on the fact that your heart is nearly beating out of your ribcage. You feel his lips press to the top of your head and swear you must be dreaming this because there’s no way the Avenger you’ve pining after for months is now so boldly giving you his affection.
“How about we go away for a weekend?” He finally says after holding you in silence for some time.
“Go away?” You repeat, curiously peeking up at him.
“Leave New York, explore somewhere new,” Bucky reiterates, his features relaxed as he looks down upon you with an adoring gaze. “Be regular people for a few days.”
“I’d like that,” you profess quietly, sighing in contentment when the man pulls you against his chest once more before settling back against the couch. You can feel your eyelids already starting to become heavy, and the soothing circles he rubs into your back doesn’t help. You don’t want this moment with Bucky to end, but you also know that there’s so much to look forward to.
“Bucky?” You hum quietly after allowing your eyes to flutter shut.
“Yes, doll?”
“When we go away for the weekend, can we be regular people in a relationship?”
You feel his body gently shake from the quiet laugh he lets out at your response. You feel his lips press to your forehead as you drift to sleep, missing his answer when he replies, “I’d want nothing more.”
~~~
You slept through the rest of the night without issue; Bucky’s comforting presence was enough to lull you into a peaceful rest, and you entrusted him to chase away the nightmares for you. The two of you remained entangled together on the couch all the way until sunrise, and neither of you had bothered to consider the repercussions of your actions in the morning.
“I feel bad waking them,” Steve sighs, arms crossed over his chest as he and Natasha look down on your sleeping forms. There’s an almost proud smile on his face as he takes in the sight of his best friend holding the woman of his dreams in his arms.
“Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to let them sleep a little longer,” Natasha notes with a knowing smile before promptly ushering the blond out of the entertainment room. Unbeknownst to either of you, by the time you wake up you’ll be the talk of the tower.
“So how much do you owe Wanda?” Steve asks after quietly shutting the door behind him. Natasha lets out a disappointed sigh.
“I’m out twenty bucks. I bet it would take at least another week before they finally got their heads out of their asses and confessed. But I guess as long as they’re happy…”
“That’s all that matters,” Steve finishes for her with a nod.
The team is happy they’ll no longer have to endure your obvious pining over each other, and they make sure to tell you so when you finally wake up.
Gladly taking you up on your smut requests omg??? The last one you posted was so good !!
I absolutely LOVED the good day Clancy fic it was amazing.
so I had a vague idea of a Clancy x reader fic where it starts out with fluff then leads into smut?
My idea is that Clancy had broken the reader out of Dema and was now helping her adjust to life outside of the city. She's a bit nervous around him because of how ambitious he is and how much of a risk taker he is. She feels like with how firm he is with his decisions and how quick he is to act out plans, it's dangerous for her. She's just scared to get caught by the Bishops and returned to Dema.
She ends up telling Clancy about all of this and he comforts her through her doubts and anxieties.
With how much time they spend together while Clancy is helping her adjust, they end up getting pretty close and realize that they're actually a lot more alike than previously anticipated and they bond from it.
Thennn you can go from there how you'd like ^^ idunno
I've never requested fics before so idk if this is too much or not LMAO
You can change it up however you like if you end up doing it!! I'm just itching for more Clancy x reader content really lol
-🩷✨
Scared - Clancy x Reader - Smut
Warnings: Fluffy smut hehe
Word Count: 2438
A/N: I love writing lore fics ngl 👀 Also love that we've got new anons coming in! That was a great request :)
Clancy had always been a whirlwind of energy, an enigma of rebellion and daring plans. He’d been that way in the city but the second he stepped out of the walls he’d gone full tilt. From the moment he helped break me out of Dema, I had felt a tug of nervousness in my chest. I wasn’t quick like him, I wasn’t bold like him. He moved so quickly, his mind always calculating the next step, never stopping to rest for long. His intensity filled the camp as he conversated with the Torchbearer and while it was what had saved me, it also worried me. Clancy was unpredictable, reckless at times, and his ambition seemed limitless—qualities that made me feel like we were constantly on the edge of being caught, dragged back to the nightmare I had barely escaped. Hidden at the bandito camp, where the city’s grasp could not reach. The silence of Trench was disorienting after a life in Dema and I still wasn’t used to the freedom. The thought of it often sent me spiraling, making me wonder if this new world was really safer, or if it was just a ticking time bomb leading us down a path of being dragged back to Dema by the bishops.
Clancy had seemed to notice I wasn’t coping well. His piercing gaze had fallen on me more than once, sizing me up, always quietly observing. I could tell he was holding back, waiting for me to come to terms with this new life on my own but it never happened–my worries growing heavier with each day.
One night I found myself sitting near the fire, staring into the flames that Torchbearer had ignited. Clancy sat on the log next to mine, looking down at the notebook everyone knew he kept his plans in. The pen in his hand scribbled frantically as he spoke to himself quietly. My heart raced as I watched him, the feeling of helplessness clawing at me. What if he made a mistake? What if we didn’t move quick enough and we were caught? I couldn't take it anymore.
“Clancy,” I said softly, walking up to him.
He stopped, looking over at me, his brow furrowing in concern. “Yeah?”
“I’m worried about what we’re planning. I don’t trust that we’re safe,” I admitted, my voice shaking slightly. “You’re so–so confident with every decision you make. We’re taking risks without thinking twice, and I’m… I’m terrified. What if the bishops find us? What if all of this was for nothing?”
For a moment, Clancy didn’t respond, his intense brown eyes studying me. Then, slowly, he moved across the log, allowing me to sit next to him. His presence, though comforting, also made me feel more vulnerable. The firelight flickered against his face, casting shadows in his dark hair, making him seem almost otherworldly.
“I know it's a lot,” he said quietly, his voice softer than usual, losing some of its usual bravado. “And I get that you're scared. You’ve been through hell in Dema. I know what it’s like to be afraid of them. The bishops... they have a way of getting into your head, making you think there’s no way out. But trust me when I say they don’t control you anymore.”
I shook my head, struggling to explain the storm inside me. “But you don’t understand. I feel like we’re still running. Like at any moment, they’ll find us, and it’ll all be over.”
Clancy’s eyes softened, and his hand reached out to rest on mine. I froze at the contact, not sure what to expect. But his touch was gentle, grounding.
“I do understand,” he said, his thumb tracing small circles on my skin. “I’ve been living like this for a while now. Always on the run, always looking over my shoulder. It’s not easy, and it never will be. But you don’t have to carry all that fear alone.”
I looked at him, really looked at him, and for the first time, I saw past the recklessness, past the daring confidence. There was something deeper, something raw. He wasn’t as invincible as he made himself seem. He had his own scars from Dema, his own demons chasing him. And in that moment, I realized how much alike we were, despite my fears.
His hand squeezed mine lightly. “I’m here. You’re not doing this alone anymore.”
The vulnerability in his voice melted the walls I’d built, and I found myself leaning into him, letting his warmth pull me in. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close, and I let out a shaky breath, resting my head against his chest. His heartbeat was steady, a rhythm that seemed to slow the chaos inside me.
“You don’t have to be like me,” he murmured against my hair. “I don’t expect that from you. Just be you. We’ll figure the rest out.” I closed my eyes, letting his words sink in. For the first time in days, I felt at peace. His arms around me, the quiet of the cabin, the crackle of the fire—it all felt... safe. Safer than I’d felt in a long time.
Time seemed to blur as we sat there together, the tension between us shifting. I felt myself relaxing into him, my fingers absentmindedly tracing the lines of his chest through his shirt. His body was solid, grounding, and I felt a strange sense of comfort in his presence. But something else stirred, too. A closeness that hadn’t been there before, or maybe had been, but I hadn’t let myself acknowledge. I lifted my head to look at him, our faces inches apart. His gaze, normally sharp and calculating, had softened. There was something in his eyes now—something vulnerable, open. My breath caught in my throat.
Neither of us spoke. We didn’t need to. The air between us had changed, thick with unspoken tension. Slowly, almost hesitantly, Clancy’s hand moved from my shoulder to my cheek, his thumb brushing my skin in a way that made my heart race.
My pulse quickened, my body reacting before my mind could catch up. I leaned in, closing the distance between us, my lips brushing his softly at first, testing the waters. His breath hitched, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he kissed me back, his lips firm and warm, as though they’d been waiting for this moment as much as I had. The kiss deepened, the fire between us growing with each passing second. My hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as his arms wrapped around my waist, drawing me into his lap. The warmth of his body, the way he held me so tightly, so possessively, sent a shiver down my spine.
“Clancy,” I whispered against his lips, my voice trembling with need.
“Tent. Let’s go to my tent,” he muttered, picking me up bridal style and carrying us over to one of the larger tents in the campsite. Lucky for us the floor of his tent wasn’t too hard, the blankets he’d stolen from the city making a comfortable barrier between the dirt ground and us.
He pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark with desire. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low, rough with restraint.
I nodded, my heart pounding. “Yes. I need this. I need you.”
That was all it took. With a hum of approval, Clancy’s lips crashed into mine again, more urgent this time. His hands roamed my body, exploring, claiming. The world outside faded away, the Bishops, Dema, all of it disappearing as we lost ourselves in each other.
Clancy’s lips were relentless now, the hunger between us building with every passing second. The intensity of it made my head spin, my body aching for more. His hands, strong and warm, gripped my waist as he pulled me impossibly closer, my legs straddling his lap. I could feel the heat of him through the fabric of his clothes, his arousal evident against me, and it only stoked the fire burning inside me.
His hands slid under my shirt, his fingers tracing the bare skin of my back, making me shiver. The sensation sent a wave of electricity through me, igniting something deep and primal. I gasped against his mouth as he tugged at my shirt, pulling it up and over my head in one swift motion, tossing it aside without a second thought.
Clancy's eyes raked over me, dark and intense, his breath coming quicker now. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, “and smart, and strong, and brave.” His hands cupped my breasts through the thin fabric of my bra, his thumbs brushing over my hardened nipples, making me arch into him with a desperate need I hadn’t known I was capable of.
I moaned softly as he kissed along my jaw, down the column of my neck, his lips hot against my skin. His hands were everywhere, touching, exploring, claiming me in a way that felt both overwhelming and exhilarating. My fingers tugged at his shirt, wanting to feel his skin against mine, needing the barrier between us gone.
He obliged, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. The sight of him—strong, toned, and so undeniably real—made my pulse race even faster. I traced the lines of his chest with my fingers, marveling at the heat of his skin, the way his muscles tensed under my touch. I leaned in, kissing the curve of his collarbone, tasting the salt of his skin, reveling in the way he groaned softly, his hands tightening on my hips.
Clancy’s hands moved to the button of my jeans, and I lifted myself slightly to help him as he deftly undid them, sliding the fabric down my legs and discarding them in the growing pile of clothes. His hands gripped my thighs, pulling me back onto his lap, his hardness pressing against my core through the thin material of my underwear. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through me, and I couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped my lips.
He looked up at me, his eyes filled with lust but also something deeper—something tender, almost reverent. “You’re sure?” he asked again, his voice barely more than a whisper, as though he needed to hear it one last time.
I nodded, my breath shaky but full of certainty. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
With that, Clancy’s hands slid beneath the waistband of my underwear, pulling them down and leaving me completely bare before him. His gaze darkened as he took me in, and the heat in his eyes sent a thrill through me. He shifted beneath me, his fingers brushing over my core, teasing, testing.
“You’re so wet. Is all this for me?” He teased, bringing my slick to up his lips and sucking it off his fingers. I nodded desperately, my hips instinctively rocking against him, craving more.
He didn’t make me wait. His fingers found my clit, circling slowly at first, building the tension inside me. I gripped his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin as pleasure began to coil tightly in my belly. Clancy watched me with a hunger that matched my own, his touch both gentle and demanding, as though he knew exactly what I needed.
I was lost in him, in the sensation of his fingers, the heat of his body pressed against mine. Every touch, every stroke sent waves of pleasure crashing through me, and I could feel the tension building, spiraling higher and higher until I was on the edge of breaking.
“Clancy,” I moaned, my voice breathless, desperate.
He pulled his hand away, and I whimpered at the loss, but before I could protest, he shifted beneath me, undoing his own pants with a swift motion. The anticipation, the knowledge of what was coming, made my heart pound in my chest. I watched as he freed himself, his erection hard and ready, and my body ached with need. Giving his cock a couple tugs, he slipped on one of the few condoms he’d stolen from his draw back in Dema when we escaped. He lifted me slightly, positioning me above him, his eyes locked on mine, seeking permission one final time. I nodded, my body trembling with want, and slowly, he lowered me onto him, inch by inch, until he filled me completely.
The sensation was overwhelming, a delicious mix of fullness and heat that made me gasp, my hands clutching his shoulders for support. Clancy groaned, his grip on my hips tightening as he held me there, letting me adjust to the feel of him inside me.
“God you feel so good Y/N.”
“Shit,” I seethed, feeling my wall stretch and clamp around him.
For a moment, we were still, the only sound between us the ragged breaths we shared. He pressed his lips to mine, capturing the moment in a passionate kiss that took my breath away. I placed a hand on his chest as I slowly began to move, rocking my hips against him, finding a rhythm that sent sparks of pleasure through me with every movement.
Clancy’s hands guided me, his touch firm but reverent, his gaze never leaving mine as we moved together. The connection between us was undeniable, an intimacy that went beyond the physical. I could feel it in the way he touched me, the way he held me like I was something precious.
As the pleasure built again, faster this time, I could feel the tension rising inside me, coiling tighter and tighter with every thrust. Clancy’s breathing grew ragged, his grip on me tightening as his own control began to slip.
“Clancy I–I’m–” I couldn’t manage to get the words out, groans escaping my mouth between each pause.
“I know baby girl, I’m here. We’re safe. Cum for me,” he murmured, his voice rough and commanding, as he reached down to rub circles on my clit–that was all it took.
With a cry, I shattered around him, the pleasure ripping through me in waves that left me breathless, trembling in his arms. Clancy followed moments later, his release spilling into the condom.
For a long time, we stayed like that, wrapped in each other, our bodies still trembling from the aftermath. The world outside was quiet, the threat of Dema and the Bishops fading into the background as we held each other close.
In that moment, with Clancy’s arms around me and our hearts still racing in sync, I realized something. I wasn’t just free from Dema—I was free with him.
warnings: bad date, jerk behaviour from said bad date (not bucky, never bucky, he's a sweetheart)
summary: after a disappointing date, bucky decides to show you what a proper date should be like.
based on this request
word count: 2.2k
author's note: i love, love this request, soft!bucky will always be my weakness. love you guys and stay safe out there!
You could already feel the headache blooming behind your eyes by the time he said, “Oh, you don’t mind paying, right?”
He said it like it was nothing. Like asking the time. Like it wasn’t already the second time you had pulled out your wallet tonight.
You stood at the counter, nodding stiffly in your carefully chosen outfit, the one you’d debated over, hoping it struck the right balance of effortless and cute.
Beside you, Dylan barely glanced up from his phone. He rattled off an order without looking at you, or the menu. The most expensive combo on the board, with extra toppings and a drink, then added, “And large curly fries. Thanks, babe.”
You paid. Not because you wanted to. Because the alternative—arguing in front of a line of strangers under fluorescent lights sounded even worse.
The restaurant wasn’t charming. It was loud, crowded, and sticky. One overhead light buzzed and flickered every few seconds, just enough to make your eyes hurt.
Dylan slid into the booth across from you and immediately launched into a monologue, about his job, his bench press max, and the supplements he was “thinking of selling on tiktok.”
He didn’t ask you a single question.
Somewhere between his story about getting banned from a gym “for being too intense” and the fourth time he called himself an “alpha,” he showed you a blurry photo of his car. Then one of his abs.
You tried to smile. Tried to stay polite. Tried to find something redeeming.
But then he started in on his ex—how she was “too emotional,” how he was “so done with drama,” and how he liked girls who were “chill, you know? The low-maintenance kind.”
You stared at your plate, appetite long gone.
Afterward, he dragged you to a movie you didn’t pick, barely noticed you during the previews, and spent the first twenty minutes whispering unsolicited commentary about the actresses.
“Hot, but too skinny,” he said more than once.
When you finally tried to reply, he shushed you. Loudly.
You sat through the rest of it in silence, wondering when exactly the night had started to feel like a mistake. Maybe from the moment he said “you free fri?” without even using your name.
By the time the credits rolled, your shoulders were tight, your patience was gone, and you’d barely spoken a full sentence that wasn’t met with a shrug.
He looked at you then, slightly annoyed, like you were the one who’d ruined the vibe.
And just to really finish it off, when the parking machine spit out the total, he patted his jeans with mock surprise and said, “Crap, still no wallet. Can you…?”
You paid. Again.
He didn’t even say thank you.
You went home quiet, heels clicking against pavement, the weight of disappointment sitting like lead in your chest. You’d planned for butterflies.
Instead, you got a stomachache and a receipt.
You hadn’t planned on telling anyone about the date. Honestly, you just wanted to forget it. Bury it somewhere behind your laundry pile and pretend it never happened.
It felt embarrassing, like you’d walked straight into something you should’ve seen coming. And maybe part of you had. But god, some part of you had hoped, just for once, that someone would surprise you. In a good way. And this date was anything but.
Yelena asked how it went the next morning. Just a casual message. “So? How was it?”
You considered ignoring her. Then sighed and typed a reply. Quick. Blunt. No flourishes.
“Paid for everything. Talked about himself. Rated actresses. Didn’t even say thank you.”
It took her barely ten seconds to respond.
“I’m telling Barnes”
You let out a groan and dropped your phone onto the bed.
Of course she was, he was your best friend after all.
The knock came just after sunset, soft, unhurried and almost unsure.
You weren’t expecting anyone. But the moment you heard it, you somehow already knew.
You opened the door, and there he was, Bucky, standing on your front step in a fitted black tactical tee, sleeves hugging his arms just enough to remind you he never really knew how not to look ready for a mission.
His hair was tucked neatly behind his ears, a few strands falling loose across his forehead, and his expression was all soft concern. He looked comfortable, calm, like someone who knew how to carry the weight of the world but had left it all behind just to check on you.
In one hand, he held a brown paper bag. In the other, your favorite drink, the lid slightly fogged over from the cold.
And when he smiled at you, it was the gentlest thing in the world.
“Hey,” he said gently, offering the smallest smile. “I brought cinnamon rolls.”
You blinked at him, surprised, but didn’t hesitate. You stepped aside to let him in, and he moved carefully, quiet steps, easy presence almost as if he knew you were still holding something fragile in your chest and didn’t want to make it worse.
He placed the bag on your study table, then turned back to you with a softness that made your ribs ache.
“Yelena filled me in,” he said, voice low. “I heard the date didn’t exactly go great.”
You huffed a dry laugh and folded your arms, leaning against the back of your couch. “That’s one way to put it.”
He nodded, not pushing, not prying.
Just listening.
“I’m sorry he made you feel like that, doll” Bucky said after a pause. “Like you weren’t worth the effort.”
The words hit somewhere you hadn’t let yourself acknowledge. You looked down at your hands, suddenly too aware of how tightly your fingers were laced together.
“I don’t know why I let it get to me,” you murmured. “It was just one night and some guy.”
“It’s not about one night,” he said, quietly but firmly. “It’s the way he treated you. You deserve someone who shows up. Who sees you, someone who tries.
You looked up. And he was already looking at you.
Steady, present and kind.
There was a silence that stretched between the both of you, comfortable, not tense. Like neither of you needed to fill it with anything unnecessary.
Then he cleared his throat, nervousness flickering in his expression.
“I, uh… I was thinking,” he said slowly, “maybe I could take you out sometime.”
You blinked. “What?”
“I mean, only if you want to. No pressure. I just…” He rubbed the back of his neck, almost sheepish. “I’d like to show you what it’s actually supposed to feel like. A date, I mean.”
Your heart gave a small, startled flutter. Not because he asked, but because it felt different this time—genuine. No pressure, no performance. Just quiet sincerity.
He meant it. That was the difference.
You exhaled, the tension leaving your shoulders like a slow breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding.
“You don’t have to fix anything, Buck.”
He met your eyes again, unwavering. “I’m not trying to. I just want to be around you. That’s all.”
And somehow, that felt like everything.
You smiled, soft but real. “Okay.”
His whole face lit up, barely, but enough. Like the sun peeking out after a long stretch of grey.
The next evening, Bucky picked you up right at six.
He rolled up on his motorbike—sleek, black, and already rumbling softly beneath him. He swung off and pulled off his helmet, that familiar smile tugging at his lips.
“You said you liked the wind in your hair,” he said, handing you a second helmet. “Figured we’d start the night right.”
You took it with a grin, nerves and excitement tangling in your stomach.
He stepped closer, reached out gently, and began adjusting the straps under your chin—careful, precise, but somehow impossibly tender. His fingers brushed just beneath your jaw, and when he looked up to check the fit, he was close—close enough to smell the hint of his cologne, warm and clean, like cedarwood and something familiar you couldn’t name.
“Too tight?” he murmured.
You shook your head, voice lost somewhere in your throat. “It’s perfect.”
He helped you swing onto the bike, his hand on yours steadying you as you climbed on behind him. And when you settled, you hesitated for only a second before wrapping your arms around his waist.
His body was solid beneath you, warm even through the cotton of his black tactical tee. You felt him breathe once, deeply, before his hand found yours and gave it a soft squeeze.
“Hold on tight,” he said over his shoulder, and the words felt less like a warning and more like an invitation.
He pulled away from the curb, and you tucked your face into the space between his shoulder blades, the wind rushing past your legs as the bike hummed beneath you. The world blurred in gold and shadow, and all you could do was hold on and try not to smile too hard against his back.
You weren’t sure where he was taking you.
But for the first time in a long time, you didn’t mind not knowing.
You expected maybe a quiet restaurant. Maybe a movie that didn’t make you want to gnaw through your seat or chew grass. Something safe, predictable.
But what you got instead was entirely different.
He drove you out of the city, down winding backroads lined with trees still clinging to the last golden scraps of autumn. The air was crisp, soft-edged, full of that late-day hush the world sometimes offers just before the light disappears.
After a while, he pulled into a gravel turnout near a small, wooded park. You glanced at him, confused, but he just smiled and turned off the ignition.
“Trust me,” he said.
You followed him up a narrow trail, the path crunching beneath your shoes. Leaves stirred beneath your steps, and ahead, tucked just out of sight from the road, was a clearing bathed in the last touches of daylight.
Tiny string lights had been hung from low branches, their warm glow flickering gently in the growing dusk.
You blinked, unsure what to say.
He unclipped a bundle from the rear of his bike, and pulled out a folded picnic blanket, a small cooler, and a speaker tucked under one arm. Everything looked like it had been thought through, not fancy, not showy, but thoughtful.
“I figured you probably had enough of restaurants for a while,” he said, his voice light with something just shy of nervous. “Hope you’re okay with something quieter.”
Your chest warmed instantly. “This is… really nice,” you said softly, eyes meeting his. “Thank you, Bucky.”
His smile deepened, and you caught the faintest hint of colour rising in his cheeks.
He laid everything out in the center of the clearing, the softest blanket, a pair of cushions, sandwiches he had made himself (cut diagonally, because you once had a debate with Walker about how sandwiches tasted better when they were cut that way), a thermos full of warm coffee and a little container of shortbread cookies, the same kind you always looked at when you went to the market together, but never bought.
You sat beneath the lights, the world soft and golden around you, the rustle of wind through the trees the only thing breaking the silence.
Bucky was thoughtful in ways that didn’t need to be loud, quietly showing up with the kind of care that made your heart ache in the best way.
He didn’t try to impress you. He didn’t talk over you. He didn’t steer the conversation toward himself. He asked you about your week. Your favourite childhood memory. What you’d been reading lately. What song had been stuck in your head.
And he listened, oh, he really listened
He remembered things you didn’t even realise you had said. Little things. Quiet things that you had mentioned in passing. He wove them back into conversation gently, like handing you small gifts wrapped in ease and attention.
When you had asked about his life in the ’40s, he didn’t hesitate, just smiled, a little nostalgic, and told you stories like they were memories he had kept safe just for this moment.
You laughed more than you had in weeks. Not polite laughter, real laughter. The kind that filled your chest and made you forget about the rest of the world for a little while.
When the food was gone and the sky had faded into that soft in-between of night and not-quite-night, Bucky pulled out the speaker and played a playlist with songs you had mentioned liking—cozy, easy songs.
Then, without a word, he held out his hand to you.
“Dance with me?” he asked, voice so quiet it could have disappeared into the trees.
And you took it.
Because there was no reason not to.
You danced under the lights, slow and unhurried, the breeze tugging gently at your sleeves. His hand rested warm and steady on your back. Yours fit perfectly in his, like it had always known its place there.
At some point, your head found his shoulder. His cheek came to rest lightly against your hair, and he held you just a little closer.
Neither of you spoke.
You didn’t need to.
Because this, this felt like something good. Something simple, something true.
It felt like safety. Like quiet, like someone had finally shown up just to be there with you.
And for the first time in a long time, it felt like maybe this wasn’t just a nice night.
Maybe it was the beginning of something that finally felt right.
a/n: and to anyone who has been on a bad date, i hope this helped!
synopsis. Bob likes someone that’s not you and now it's up to you to begin Project Get Over Bob.
warnings. no use of y/n, not much angst right now, reader pining for Bob but pushing it all down!! Bob breaking my little y/n's heart.
word count. 2.7k.
Bob Reynolds was many things, but one thing he wasn’t, was subtle.
You knew it.
He knew it.
Everyone knew it.
So when he started batting his eyelashes at the owner of the local bookstore, you knew that you might have to get rid of your crush.
You and Bob had known each other now for at least a year, and had fallen into the perfect morning routine.
You’d wake up at 7am, stumble your way into the kitchen, knocking on everyone’s doors as you went. Of course, Ava, Bucky, and Walker would have already left for training, but it was nice to cause a bit of ruckus so early in the day. You’d pop some coffee on and by the time it brewed, Bob would be sitting at the island in the middle of the room with a grin and an extra Splenda packet for you.
But today?
Today, he was nowhere to be found.
“Coffee for me?” Yelena asked as she wiggled her brows at you.
You smiled and scoffed “Knock yourself out”
“Have you seen my bowie knife, I think I left it in the sink but I came to grab it last night and it was gone.” She whined, her bottom lip jutting out in such a cute way you couldn’t help but grin and pinch her cheeks.
“You left your disgusting dirty knife in the sink?!! We practically EAT out of there” Walker shouts.
“We don’t eat out of the sink stupid”
“Well, if we’re washing our dishes in the sink and we eat off of them then – yeah – we do”
“So what? You decided to throw my knife away because of that??”
Yelena’s accusation turns John bright red, the two bickering and throwing insults around at a rapid pace.
While those two are enthralled in a ‘spirited debate’ Ava and Bucky stroll in. The latter animatedly mimicking what you think? is some kind of old-school wrestling move. Bucky suddenly tunes into the two blondes’ argument, starts to smirk and you raise a brow at his reaction. His wink back was enough evidence that he definitely had something to with the disappearance of Lena’s knife.
Yeah, you need to learn how to rage bait effectively from the centurion.
The elevator chimes and you all turn to see Bob waving, carrying a very nice smelling paper bag which you can only hope are filled with some almond doughnuts from Supermoon.
You open your mouth to say something, until a small figure comes out from behind him. Long black hair, big eyes and-and wait it’s the lady from the bookstore?
You’d spoken to her before and honestly, she was lovely, super smart and made your day every time you stepped foot to her store. She'd recommended Dante's Inferno to you when you’d ask for an all-time classic so obviously you had to love her. You liked her so much you’d even taken her email so you both could discuss you guys’ excitement for the new Odyssey film.
And now here she was, the kind woman from the store clinging onto Bob’s side.
All you could see was his hand, Bob’s hand, your Bob’s hand covering hers so tenderly.
The way he did with you.
Everyone’s gaze seemed to zero in on you and your reaction.
“Hey guys um Lily and I are heading to the game room, you-you guys are welcome to join, we’re watching ‘The Shining’!” God, the way his eyes shifted to hers in such a soft way, assuring her that she was welcome here, killed you.
He stares at you for a moment; you know Bob was looking for some comfort from you, that yes he's made a good choice in finally trying to live a normal life.
Through your shock you pull yourself together, give a thumbs up and wink, mouthing the words ‘she’s cute’. You heart may be breaking but you care for him too much to not support something that makes him so obviously happy.
You can see him visibly relax and as the others rally to greet Lily a sudden flurry of steps from Alexei stole the group’s attention. The large leather clad (you’d have to have a conversion to him about the concept of lounge wear) man claps his hands together as he caught sight of the two in the doorway.
“Finally Bob, you ask Lily to come here. You know he asked me over and over and over advice on how to charm pretty woman with shop” he says, turning to the group with a smile on his face.
Yelena places her hand in the small of your back and glares at Alexei, the man looking absolutely bewildered at the others’ reaction to what he thinks is the best news he’d heard all week.
“So.. you both are together or –“ John questions, shooting an inquisitive look between the two.
“We haven’t really, well, haven’t put a label on it yet, we’re just hanging out, right-right?” he turns to face her, and every inch of her face lights up as she laughs.
“Yeah, this is his audition for boyfriend”, nudging him in a familiar way.
They’d only known each other a month why were they suddenly so buddy-buddy?
Ava, as kind as ever, decides to change the subject, asking about the team’s plans for next month’s mission. You hear the words safe-house and horses but can’t bring yourself to care.
The lovebirds take this as their cue to leave and Bob gives you a soft smile as he walks away with someone that’s not you.
Ok.
Time to get over Robert Reynolds once and for all.
Phase 1
You decided to split Project Get Over Bob into 4 phases = fill up your timetable and become busy - stop hanging out with Bob – stop thinking of Bob – reach the ultimate nirvana and make yourself invisible to him.
Ok, well the phases were vaguely something like that.
Simple right?
Phase 1 was easy; you’d used the guise of a new hobby (jiu-jitsu) as an excuse to be out of any kind of common area or team activity. Claiming to the team during the monthly debrief that you had to know the sport as an effective cover for your mission.
So, while half of your day was taken up by morning classes and sparring in the afternoon with Lena and Buck, there was still the entirety of the evening to deal with.
You and Bob spent most evenings cooking dinner, filling reports to send off to Mel and watching shitty French arthouse films until you were both knocked out for the day. This had to stop.
Ottolenghi could wait, you thought to yourself as you booted up your laptop and found the perfect pottery class that was on the other side of the city and about 2 hours long.
“Are you trying to replace all of our plates?” a voice says from behind you, causing you to jump and almost drop the drink you were holding in your free hand.
“Jesus John, learn to make some noise when walking into a room!”
Walker jumps over the sofa landing snuggly next to you, he reeks of sweat nothing too bad but you wrinkle your nose in faux disgust.
“You smell awful did you roll around in dirt before you got here or what”
“I’ll have you know I beat Bucky and Alexei while sparring today, hence the sweat”
You look at him incredulously. There was no way that Walker could beat them 1 v 2. Sure, he was strong he’d managed to rough you up plenty of times but James had the fancy hydra serum and well Alexei was just out of his mind Russian so how did the so called ‘second rate’ captain America manage to beat them?
As if catching onto your line of thought John grabs your head and brings his arm around your neck, playfully tickling you with the other. Your burst out in giggles, gasping and shouting at him to let you go.
While he has you in a headlock without mercy Lily and Bob walk in.
Their conversation stalls as Bob lays his eyes on the two of you messing around.
Walker straightens up and you stare at him confused with the immediate shift in behaviour.
“What are you both doing?” he questions his voice tight and his hands clenched at his sides.
“John managed to best the two greatest super soldiers on earth, apparently. I personally don't believe it” you state while winking in Lily’s direction. She holds her mouth with her palm, attempting to hide her laugh.
“Anyway, I’ve got some work to catch up on so I’ll see you guys later”, you clap your hands while standing up and shuffle out of the room, bidding goodbye to them all.
Bob looks at your retreating figure, both John and Lily staring at him snaps him out of his daze and he leads her to the lab downstairs.
You couldn’t wait to leave the room, Bob’s reaction made no sense to you. You knew he was always slightly awkward with Walker but they had hashed out whatever issues they had months ago, so why was he so annoyed with him today?
The rest of the week goes by with you keeping as busy as possible, you can count on one hand how many times you’d even seen Bob and you wanted to keep it that way.
You told yourself all you had to do was make it to week 4, and you would be off to Mongolia with Alexei and Walker for at least 2 months, and by then the Bob-shaped hole in your heart would be filled up and pasted over.
Phase 2
All you needed to do for phase 2 of your plan was to wean yourself off the drug that was Bob. The aforementioned drug was not making it easy for you, even though you’d changed your habits, he hadn’t.
Every day he would wake up even earlier than usual and make your favourite breakfast of blueberry pancakes and an iced black coffee, leaving it on the counter closest to the elevator. He would stand next to your breakfast, almost militant in ensuring you ate every last bit because how else would you have enough energy for jiu-jitsu? He was so happy that you had decided to take on a new hobby and put yourself out there, you deserved to have fun so of course he wanted to show his support in any way he could.
You’d then decided to take the stairs around the back so you could avoid him but he’d taken to waiting by reception with your breakfast in a small tin, like a wife waving her husband off for work. Was Bob your wife?
Never mind.
You’d decided to forgo even more sleep and join John in his 4am gym sessions, leaving for class after sparing with the super solider that spent 2 hours kicking your ass so hard that by the time you got to class you were aching.
At least it had limited your conversations with Bob.
One other problem needed to be solved.
Bob’s night terrors were almost daily and before Erica-gate you had allowed him to come to your room, he’d nestle himself into your sofa, you would wake up sometime after and speak to him until he felt at ease at which point he would whisper goodnight and tip toe back to his own bed.
You knew deep down that he only came to your room because it was closest to his, the comfort of your sofa was the most alluring part to him, you guess. It was bigger than Bucky’s, way softer than whatever the hell John had stuffed in his room, cleaner than Ava’s and Alexei and Yelena had declined any kind of comforts in their rooms so that wasn’t an option for him.
Bob loved your room.
So you would need to change your room.
It had to be sneaky, the others were already pestering you about changing your training timetable, but a big change like this would arouse suspicion from Bob. Maybe a burst pipe would be best.
You knelt next to your sink, gripping the hammer you’d stolen from the construction team plastering the entrance of the tower after an unfortunate parking incident at the hands of Yelena. You weren’t worried about the sound of you brutally slamming the hammer to the pipe, you’d forced Valentina to sound proof everyone’s bathrooms out of fear the others would hear you screaming your lungs out to Dionne Warwick every morning.
One final hit and water exploded across the room, soaking the floor and walls. Within minutes, the water seeped into the carpet of your room and once you were satisfied you changed out of your wet clothes and temporarily disposed of the hammer under your bed.
Running out your room you shouted for Ava – she was always locked in her room, tinkering away at her next project- you asked her to call maintenance up and with that phase 2 was well on its way.
The team sans Bob gathered round your room door as the very kind man who had fixed up your bathroom informed you and Mel that the flooring would need to be replaced because of the risk of Mold.
You struggled to hide your joy at the success of your plan so turned your face to grin at yourself. Quickly turning back and putting on a concerned face as you ‘brainstormed’ a solution to your-self inflicted dilemma.
Ava tutted loudly as the group discussed where you would be staying. She locked eyes with you and gave you a look you couldn’t figure out, you’d have to chase her up on that later.
“Could I have the room next to you Buck?” his was the furthest from yours and would provide a respite from the man that you were attempting to avoid.
“Yeah course kid, need a hand with your stuff?”
You both spent the day moving every single item in your room into the one at the end of the hall, there wasn’t even a speck of dust that could have been traced back to you.
As you brought the last box out of your room Bob rounded the corner. It had been a few days since you’d last spoken to the man and even the sight of his face felt like too much for you to handle. But ignoring him now would be cruel and it wasn’t like you were trying to punish the guy.
Right?
His hair was up in a clip, something he normally only did when at self-care night with you and the other girls, tucked into Lena’s covers with a hyaluronic face mask and a hot chocolate. You liked it, he’d normally have his hair covering his face but you like seeing him, all of him.
“What happened? Why-why is your room boarded up, did something happen-“
“A pipe burst so I had to switch to a different room” you shrugged. “Buck offered the one attached to his so-”
“What-what about the one next to mine?”
Shit.
You hadn’t really thought about a good excuse for that, obviously, the one next to his would be the more reasonable option but you quickly spit out a lie.
“I was considering it… but the view from the other side of the tower is so great at night! It’s nicer to have a view of Central Park than Goldman Sachs when I’m working”
He nods in understanding, “Oh ok that makes sense” He stills for a moment, and it looks as if he may say something, but he stops himself.
You take advantage of his hesitation. “I’m pretty tired, I’m gonna turn in m’kay, see you around Bob”
“Yeah-yeah I’ll see you, goodnight”
You walk past him as quickly as possible without looking back; if you had, you would have seen the absolutely devastated look on his face.
Bob wasn’t stupid.
He’d been trying to get your attention for the past two weeks and he knew that you were working hard to prepare for your mission, but you always made time for him no matter what.
Bob decided he would get to the bottom of your strange mood, no matter what it took.
Hey guys, hope you like the fic so far, It’s my first time writing fanfiction and not consuming it so if anyone has any writing tips pls let me know!
Summary: After a failed mission, in which Y/N almost drowned trying to keep herself and Bob afloat, the man feels guilty for not being able to save them. Or more like, save her.
Author's note: Did you guys watch the new teaser of THUNDERBOLTS*???? I literally can't stop watching it and I repeat over and over again to find any new detaill of Sentry.
I'm gonna start writing more of Bob Reynolds because it's never enough <33
《tags: fluff, hints of angst, Bob being shy, mentions of drowning, angst, Bob being guilty for what happened》
Lost and insecure.
That's how Bob felt after having caused destruction in New York City. After having been the cause - or having been part of - such chaos that drove the city crazy.
He still didn't fully understand his powers and everything that he and... his other self were capable of. It hadn't been long since Valentina and her followers experimented on him to turn him into their weapon. But when he was able to escape Valentina's perfect varnished nails, he was able to feel a little calmer.
Until he felt the heavy gazes of the rest of the team again.
It wasn't like they did it on purpose to make him feel bad about himself, but they still hadn't forgotten what had happened. Bob knew it would take time to gain their trust and really become part of the group, but he was struggling to do so. He constantly made an effort to make small gestures and actions that showed he was trying hard. But the man always received a smile that was almost polite rather than genuine. He couldn't blame them though, Bob would be like that too if he were in the rest of them's place.
He always kept quiet. When Alexei, Yelena or Bucky spoke to him, he allowed himself to respond. Or when it was time to eat, he usually excused himself by saying that he wasn't hungry, but whenever the rest finished and went somewhere else, he would go to the kitchen, take a plate of food and eat it while silence surrounded him. The silence of the environment, because his head was always making noise.
If they didn't want to include him yet, he would wait. However, even if he didn't realize it, Y/N was always there trying to include him.
The girl didn't feel pity for the man. No, that was not it. She knew what he was going through, because she had also been through something similar, so she could understand him. Besides, there was no point in bringing up the past and blaming Bob for his actions, because every member of the team had done wrong in their past. Even her.
And now it's not like they were doing anything good either.
Y/N was fighting off four men who were trying to stop her. The team was on a mission to infiltrate the mansion of a drug dealer of the Soldier's serum, who was trafficking it to the least suitable people to manipulate it. They had fought and killed many of those who crossed their path to stop him. Staining their hands with blood, something they were already accustomed to.
After Y/N was able to finish off the men, she takes the suitcase with the samples and places the earphone in her ear.
"I already have the samples. We need to move before more of them arrive" she announces as she rushes to run through the hallways until she exits through the courtyard of the mansion.
"Got it. Guys, go to the meeting point" Yelena orders "Alexei will come for you"
"On my way!" The man says.
Y/N adjusts the suitcase in her hands and walks through the backyard that overlooks a large forest. It was obvious that such a person would live as far away from everything as possible to avoid being caught. In the distance she sees Bob waiting for her. They had agreed on this meeting place so that Alexei could come and pick them up in the helicopter. The spot was right on the edge of a cliff so that Alexei could stay in the air when he picked them up and escape as soon as they got into the helicopter. It was quite high from where they were, and as Bob waited he had seen how rocky it was down there and how the waves broke against the rocks in a violent impact.
Y/N comes to Bob's side and smiles at him, moving the suitcase triumphantly.
"I told you it would be easy," she tells him, catching her breath.
Bob, in the splendid Sentry suit, looked at her proudly and shyly at the same time.
"You should have let me go with you. Something could have happened to you," he mentions, looking over the girl's shoulder, in case someone unexpectedly came.
"Worried about me?" she asks amused. Bob blushes "Aww, no one has ever worried about me that much"
He smiles amused and looks away to the sky to see if Alexei is nearby. "Are you sure you want to wait for him? I could carry you in my arms so we can get out of here faster" the man points out, turning to look at her again.
"It's okay. They'll come for us," she points out, and her eyes widen as she sees a man sneak up behind Bob and hit him with a rock. "Bob!"
Y/N rushes to send the man flying away with her powers, while she watches as Bob staggers and falls off the cliff. She drops the suitcase and without hesitating twice, she throws herself after the brown-haired boy, who luckily doesn't fall into the rocks.
Bob falls into the depths of the sea, while Y/N dives right behind him to grab him. As she can, she grabs his arm and tries to pull him afloat, but he's heavier than her, so it's harder than it looks. As soon as she manages to lift him a little and pull him with her, Y/N gets her head out of the water while trying to get Bob's head to face the outside as well.
She tries to stay calm, but the desperation of not touching the ground consumes her. The waves crash against both of them, causing Y/N to start gulping water.
"Yelena...." she tries to speak.
"Y/N..... we are...... guys....." Yelena's voice is heard in her ear.
"We're in the water," she manages to say, before a wave covers them for a few moments.
Y/N clings to Bob's unconscious body, still straining to keep them both out of the water. She feels the tiredness take over every muscle in her body, feeling the temperature of the water freezing her with every passing second. Y/N spits out the water that enters her mouth and looks at Bob, who keeps his eyes closed.
"Please, Bob. Stay with me" she begs, hugging him against her as best she can to stay afloat "Stay with me..."
After that, Y/N closes her eyes.
Y/N opens them still feeling like she's in the sea. But she's relieved to look around the corners of her room.
She sits on the bed and sighs as she listens to the raindrops falling hard outside, feeling at peace for a moment until she remembers the man.
Bob.
Where is him? Is he okay?
These and more questions invade the girl's head.
"Shit" she curses and rushes to remove the sheets from her body, bringing her feet to the floor, but feeling an object that prevents her from moving.
Or rather, the body of a person.
"Ah! Shit!" he complains.
Y/N looks with surprise at the person, freezing in place as soon as she sees that it's Bob, sitting on the floor and removing the blankets from his body.
"Bob? What are you doing sleeping on the floor?" she asks him, kneeling down next to him.
Bob scratches his eyes and then looks at her.
"I wanted to make sure you were okay," he replies in a low tone, as if he were embarrassed, "after the mission."
She gulps and a small smile curves her lips.
"Are you okay?" she asks, bringing her hand closer to his, but not touching it.
Bob nods.
"I'm sorry" he says suddenly.
Y/N frowns not quite understanding what he's referring to. "What are you sorry about?"
Bob stares at her with guilt flashing in his blue eyes.
"That I couldn't have saved you right away."
She looks down and shakes her head.
"It's not your fault" she lets him know. "We didn't see the guy coming and we didn't know what was going to happen after that either."
Bob closes his eyes and lets out a sigh, starting to feel the pain in his head spreading. He feels the guilt consume him and believes that the team will continue to hate him for what happened. Y/N shakes her head at the thoughts of the man in front of her.
"Stop blaming yourself Bob, no one will hate you for what happened" Y/N intertwines her fingers with his. “I don’t want to see you like this.”
Bob reconnects his gaze with hers, letting her fingers caress his.
“I don’t want you to hate me,” he admits in a whisper. “I’m supposed to be strong and have the power to protect you guys from anything. Protect you from anything, but I.... couldn’t. I was weak.”
She rushes to wrap her arms around him, feeling him hug her tightly, as if she were going to fade away from his arms. Y/N caresses his back, feeling the wool fabric of his blue vest that he wears to sleep. The girl feels him sob on her shoulder, feeling a weight on her heart.
"Bob, it's okay" she whispers.
They spend a little more time hugging each other until Bob calms down a little, still in her arms. When they separate, she puts her hands on the man's cheeks so that he looks at her.
"What happened doesn't make you weak. We can't always save others, but we can let ourselves be saved by others" she tells him softly, under the man's saddened gaze. "It's not your obligation to protect me, but I appreciate that you want to do it."
Bob reimains silent.
She lets out a sigh as she sees that the guilt is still eating him up inside. Y/N makes a face and stands up, being watched by Bob from the floor, with puppy dog eyes.
"Come," she holds out her hand.
Bob frowns slightly and stands up holding her hand. Y/N leads him by the hand until he is in front of her bed, to which he opens his eyes like saucers.
"No, I can't...."
"Bob," she interrupts him.
With her look she seems to tell him that she will not let him continue sleeping on the floor, so he gives up and watches as Y/N lays down, leaving him a space on the bed. Hesitantly, he drops onto the bed and climbs inside, while Y/N covers him with the sheets. Bob gulps and doesn't know where to put his hands or how to position himself so as not to disturb her or make her feel uncomfortable, so the girl takes the initiative and puts her head on Bob's chest, putting an arm around his waist and hugging him. The brunette moves his hands slowly until he hugs her waist as well and feels the warmth of the closeness between them.
Bob prays that the girl can't hear the rapid beating of his heart against his chest, but he knows that's impossible with her so close to his chest. He doesn't care anymore though, because she's in his arms now and in that moment he knows that she's safe.
"I promise next time I won't let anything bad happen to you" he whispers as his eyes gaze out the window and out into the rainy night "I'll be watching you. Always"
She smiles and feels her heart warm at his words.
"I know" she lets him know "I promise you that too, Bob"
And both swear on their souls that such a promise will not be broken.
Summary: Bob's dark, evil entity, The Void, appears when you least expect it. The rest of the team must be prepared to confront him and his prevailing malice. However, there is only one person on the team with whom he has a soft spot. And it's her.
Author's note: this is an anonymous request that i needed to write inmediately. So, here you go. Enjoy it!
《tags: fluff, curse words, the void having a soft spot for the reader, thunderbolts being kinda like a 'found family' trope》
Bob watched the girl from a distance while she prepared dinner.
It wasn't a secret to anyone that Bob was attracted to Y/N. The whole team used to tease him about it, until his ears turned red. John was more insistent on it along with Alexei, who motivated him to ask her out. After meeting them and fighting the group, they decided to put their differences aside and help the man who only wanted to control his powers. Or rather, control him. The Void.
The entity that used to control man when he least expected it or felt like it. He had dark desires and every time he appeared, the rest of the group had to confront him and try to bring him back. However, it was in vain. His powerful entity wouldn't allow a group of powerless people to lock him up like that. When he appeared, he stalked them through the corridors of the compound and often mock them.
Before it was much more chaotic. The first few days Bob tried to prevent the entity from invading him from the inside, but it was impossible. When he came back to himself, he was greeted by Y/N who tried to hold him by the shoulders to stabilize him, while she watched behind the girl's back how the compound was in a mess and, sometimes, on fire.
He didn't remember much of what happened when The Void consumed him. But it always happened that John showed up with a bleeding nose and Bucky adjusting his metal arm.
Somehow, they got used to it and prepared for the worst.
Alexei walks up to the brunette and pats his shoulder gently, scaring him away in the process.
"Shit," Bob says, turning to look at the bearded man, who laughs.
"Seriously, you should try to approach her," he says with an accent. "It seems like it's something mutual."
"Who? Bob and Y/N?" John joins the conversation.
Alexei nods "Oh, yeah. You should try it," John advises with amusement and mischief in his tone.
Bob takes one more look at the girl, who is chatting with Bucky and Yelena, animatedly. Although Y/N had always shown him to trust him, Bob couldn't give himself the pleasure of approaching her so soon and in that way. He wasn't sure, and he didn't want to hurt her, especially if he decided to have The Void appear at any moment.
"You should do it before a certain soldier tries something with her," John scoffs, seeing if he gets a reaction from him.
An annoying feeling arises in his chest and he swallows as if this act will make it better.
"I've seen a lot of closeness between Bucky and Y/N." Bob frowns as he watches Bucky gently place his hand on the girl's arm.
"You should actually worry about your other... ugh!" Alexei receives a punch to the back of the head from John "Why did you do that?"
John rolls his eyes in annoyance and curses under his breath. Then, he looks at the brunette and sighs. "You should go for it"
He feels an evil sensation slowly invade his body, and he is aware of what is about to happen. He continues to look at the scene in front of his eyes and clenches his fists tightly. John watches the scene with amusement as he feels Ava position herself next to him and whisper to her, without her reaching Bob's hearing.
"Are we still with the bet?" Ava smiles with amusement and shows him a 20 dollar bill. "Only if it turns out that the other one always shows up when he sees that Y/N is close to Bucky. And of course, if he treats us like shit at the table while being soft for her"
"You bet," John says confidently.
Alexei frowns and crosses his arms.
"What did you bet?"
"20 bucks that Void treats us like shit while he treats Y/N so softly" Alexei laughs unamusedly and shakes his head.
He watches as Bob gets up from the couch to slowly but surely approach the rest in the kitchen.
"That's impossible. That thing is crazy, I don't think it's like that"
Ava raises an eyebrow. "Do you want to bet?"
Alexei just smiles.
Void was at the table with them.
It was no longer Bob who was in the room. The man's evil personality looked closely at each of them, who sensed a change in the environment. Void looked at Alexei who was happily eating his plate, and then turned his gaze to Y/N.
John cleared his throat and turned to look at Bob.
"Bob, aren't you going to eat?" He asks, raising an eyebrow. Void looks at him with seriousness on his face.
Suddenly he makes a grimace of disgust on his face that does not go unnoticed by the others.
"I don't feel like eating anything you guys have made," he spits firmly. He pushes the plate away and crosses his arms.
"Oh, what a shame," Ava intervenes. "Y/N spent a lot of time preparing this dish. It's one of her special recipes."
The named woman opens her eyes in surprise and looks at Bob. Y/N is looking at the man carefully, and realizes that it is not Bob's bright eyes that are watching her, but the other him.
"Shit" Yelena curses.
"We've got Void here, guys," Alexei announces, munching on his food.
Void narrows his eyes and looks at Y/N, asking:
"Did you prepare dinner?" Y/N nods her head.
"If you want I can prepare something else" she says. Yelena snorts and looks amused at the scene in front of her eyes.
"You better behave, Void," the blonde warns.
"This could get messy" Bucky gulps his drink.
Void with an automatic movement, brings the plate closer and takes the fork to bring the food to his mouth. Savoring the dish prepared by Y/N. He couldn't let them see him enjoy the dish, he wouldn't allow it. But seeing how Y/N's eyes looked at him expectantly, he allowed himself to nod his head.
"It's good," he says coldly. Y/N smiles and continues eating.
“Wow, who knew the monster himself could enjoy a meal prepared by Y/N,” John scoffs.
Void raises his hand and throws him away from the table, making him crash against the wall. Void continues eating, under the watchful eyes of the rest.
"If someone doesn't want to end up like the soldier, I would suggest you to keep eating," he warns.
"Whatever you say, pal" Yelena says, sipping her drink.
Alexei grimaces as he sees Ava's triumphant face.
Something tells him, he's gonna lose that bet.
Yelena and Bucky had joined the bet, while Taskmaster decided to stay out of the whole thing. As always.
The next thing the group saw was when they were fighting some smugglers of the Super Soldier serum.
Bucky was trying to fight against the leader of the gang, while Ava hit some men with precise and agile movements. Alexei was punching, enjoying the moment, while John and Taskmaster were in charge of knocking down everyone who crossed them. Yelena, Y/N and Bob were trying to take the serum samples that were hidden, but eight armed men entered the room.
"Take care of the serum, we'll keep them busy" Y/N says, occupying her powers.
Bob started fighting alongside her, trying to take them down and make sure she was okay. The duo was winning the fight, but without noticing the bullet that one of the bad guys had fired, it had grazed Y/N's arm, causing her to curse and stop using her powers, while receiving a punch from a man. The girl falls unconscious to the ground, while Bob grunts and feels Void's presence take control of his person.
He screams and feels it take over him, losing control. Void glares at the one who hit the girl, while with a wave of his hand, he sends the guy he was fighting with into complete darkness.
"You...." points to the man, who swallows nervously about what will happen next. "You shouldn't have done that." And he destroys him with his hand.
Yelena observes the scene as she returns with the serum case in her hand. Void doesn't look at her, his attention is focused on taking Y/N into his arms. When he takes her against his body bridal style, he raises his dark, dominant gaze to the blonde.
"Is she okay?" Yelena asks referring to the unconscious girl. Void clenches his jaw and walks past her while replying that the girl is fine now.
Now that he has her safe.
The rest of the group arrives agitated and they can see how Void doesn't even spare them a glance, he is worried about holding the girl tightly in his arms and then leaving through the balcony of the building and flying away.
John narrows his eyes and watches with an amused grimace as Alexei curses.
"It would be 40 bucks, Alexei," he pats his back, "I suggest you break your piggy bank."
When Void arrives with Y/N at the compound, he immediately heads to "Bob's" room to leave her lying on the mattress. He watches as her chest rises and falls calmly, while he clenches his jaw and sees the cut on her temple.
He could have unleashed all his power to destroy the bastards who caused that, but he knew—as crazy as it may seem to him and he is against the idea of controlling himself—that he could have killed the group, even Y/N. And he didn't want that to happen. Unlike Sentry, his dark side couldn't hold back and always got out of control, but when he met Y/N everything seemed to calm down a little for him. No matter how crazy it seemed.
Void observes Y/N's sleepy figure and crouches down to her level to bring his face closer to her hair, sniffing the scent of her shampoo. Vainilla with coconut. That seemed to calm him down.
A few hours pass and Void takes it upon himself to still maintain control of Bob's body to keep an eye on the girl. The rest arrived at the premises with injuries and barely walking, they stopped as soon as they saw the man's dark suit.
"How is she?" Bucky asks. Void crosses his arms and looks at him with his usual coldness.
"She's sleeping," he answers bluntly.
Yelena points her head to the door of the room. "Is she in Bob's room?" He nods his head.
Bucky sighs and takes a few steps until he walks into the room. "I should go check on her."
However, he is stopped by the other's hand, earning a confused and disapproving look. "
What's wrong with you? I want to go check on her" Void smiles coldly.
"It won't be necessary. She's with me." Bucky snorts and looks at him defiantly.
"She's my friend. I should check on her."
"Guys...." Ava warns.
Void laughs with amusement.
"Don't make it any harder, Barnes," he points out. "You know how this will end if you confront me."
Bucky sets his jaw and clenches his metal fist.
"Guys" a female voice is heard. Void turns around instantly and sees Y/N touching her head.
"Shit, this hurt" she complains.
Bucky looks at her and goes to her, while Void follows him without taking his eyes off the girl.
"Do you need me to bring you ice?" Yelena asks going to the refrigerator.
"Please," she asks.
"I'll do it," Void orders firmly. Y/N looks at the man and is surprised to see Void. Lately she has been seeing him more than Bob himself.
Alexei curses and goes to the room, thinking that he will have to pay more money to the rest.
"Shit"
Void takes the ice pack from the blonde's hands and Y/N walks over to gently hold it out to her. Ava watches the scene carefully as she sees how he acts with the other girl on the team. Yelena stands next to Ghost and arches an eyebrow as she holds the side of her rib.
"Who knew Void could have a heart after all" she says mockingly.
It was a rainy night and everyone in the compound was sleeping peacefully. Everyone except Bob, who wandered through the hallways without being able to fall asleep.
He didn't remember much from the previous days, only that he had worried that Y/N had a small cut on her temple. He sat on the couch and listened to the rain fall, while behind him Y/N approached with a smile on her face.
"There you are" Bob jumps and turns to see Y/N sitting next to him, a blanket surrounding her body "I was starting to wonder when would you come back"
Bob smiles nervously.
"It wasn't me. It was..."
"Void," she finishes, with a slight smile. Bob tenses.
"I hope he hasn't caused too much trouble," he murmurs.
Y/N shakes her head. "You'd be surprised, actually."
He frowns.
"Why?"
"He helped me when I got knocked out the time we went on that mission," she reminds him. Bob begins to remember and remembers that the last thing he saw that day was Y/N falling unconscious to the ground.
He looks at the girl's already healed cut.
"Are you better now? Do you need anything?" Y/N smiles and plays with her fingers under the blanket.
She moves closer to him and hears him swallow.
"Actually, i do. I needed you to tell me if..." she lowers her voice "you feel the same way"
Bob widens his eyes.
"What? I...."
"I know you have feelings for me, Bob" she confesses.
"Shit. I-I can explain it" he says hurriedly "I didn't want you to know, but the boys knew and...."
She interrupts him with a kiss on the lips.
Bob freezes for a few moments and then gently reciprocates. He raises his hands to the girl's red cheeks and lets himself be carried away by the kiss. He adores the feeling, and he doesn't want to stop.
They both separate and a shy smile appears on Y/N's face.
"Is it clear to you now that this is something mutual?" she asks him.
Bob nods his head eagerly, and dares to ask: "Could you make it clearer to me?"
She smiles and kisses him again. He gladly reciprocates, but within seconds he feels how the other takes control of him. Void is in charge of lowering his hands from the girl's cheeks until he slides them around her waist and sits her on his lap, an action that surprises the girl. Especially when "Bob" decides to bite her lips gently, making the girl moan. She separates instantly and notices how Bob's nervous face becomes confident and mischievous.
"What? I couldn't let him enjoy you all to himself" he says grimly.
“God,” Y/N murmurs, letting out a sigh.
"No, I'm just Void. But thank you" he pulls her close to his body and looks into her eyes "I must say that you captivated me to have me under your control, sweetheart"
She swallows and licks her lips. Void can't help but look at her.
"I'll have to get used to this, right?" she asks, leaning on the shoulders of the entity taking over the boy's body. He nods smiling.
"Promise me something"
"Anything, dear," he says against his lips.
"You're going to calm down with the others" Void rolls his eyes and doesn't like the plan, but seeing the pleading gleam in the girl's eyes, he curses and responds in disgust.
"Okay," he says, "Only because you asked me to. Now could we get back to kissing?"
She shakes her head in amusement and captures his lips in another kiss. Hoping that Bob will also enjoy this when he takes control again.
Hey guys! I haven’t written anything in a long while, so I’m a little rusty but I just saw thunderbolts and I ship Bob with Yelena, they are soulmates 😭
Anyway, pls forgive any errors
——————
Bob x Yelena
No warnings - just soft yearning
——————
The loss of her sister had been the string that frayed all the stitches that held Yelena’s heart together. Her pseudo family had been the only real thing she had known and now even something that had been make believe did not exist anymore.
What memories could she replay if all of them were fake?
What moments could she take solace in when her life required her to be on the move constantly?
It felt rather grey. Nothing to laugh about or no company to do it together. All she could do was reminisce and that was not a great habit, cause you can’t control it. You reminisce the good and it reminds you of the bad.
She found her way back to the base, or so that’s what everyone called it instead of calling it what it was, their home. This suburban mansion that belonged to Bucky now had become a share house. The Red guardian’s snores could be heard in the living room, Ava and Walker were arguing about something as usual in the backyard as faint snippets of their conversation slipped through. Bucky was away trying to salvage votes for his campaign and she had just finished her shift at the local youth facility.
Purpose.
To reshape the life of young women and in a way slowly, pull away the years she had lost herself in the red room. But whatever said, it was heavy work. And now she held all this weight she had gathered through the stories of the lives of these girls.
She heard the shuffling of pots and plates in the kitchen and then followed by the single beep of a button. Which had gotten the dishwasher started. She didn’t want to startle him, but it was one of her favourite moments, to watch Bob do the dishes. He stood by the sink washing his hands and as though he could sense her, he found her gaze. The soft smile breaking through his rather placid expression, which only Yelena had the power to do. To get him to feel light.
“You’re back early.”, he stated but she could sense the happiness in the tone of his voice.
“Did you miss me?”, she asked sarcastically as she folded her arms, a smile forming on her face, one she couldn’t hide. To which he paused, wiping away his wet hands as he gazed at her. As though he was in awe and in peace at the same time.
“I did.”, he gave her a soft nod followed by a genuine smile.
Yelena drew closer, her weight slowly eroding away. Unable to look at anything else, his soft sweater adding colour to his complexion, the sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms. What if there existed a world they had both met each other when everything was right? Would it have still worked? Would they have still connected?
“It suits you.”, Bob said gently as he looked away. His cheeks flushing pink.
“What suits me?”, Yelena furrowed her brows as he slowly drew close to her, putting away the cloth on the counter top.
“When you smile, your eyes light up.”, he stated as though it was a common fact but it made her feel soft. She never had the luxury to feel soft towards anything in her line of work. But with Bob it was different. It was as though they were the physical form of kindness they had once deserved.
“That’s cause you like looking at me.”, she said playfully to which he averted his gaze but found the courage to look into her eyes again.
How had they managed to close the space between them? She could never tell.
“Maybe I do.”, he said softly, as though it wasn’t for the world to hear, it was only for her.
Yelena wanted to stay in this moment, this softness, nothing in the world could touch it now. So she reached forward and pushed back a strand of hair to stand on her toes and place a soft kiss on his forehead.
“Then do it more often.”, she said quietly.
“I spent a lot of my life learning how to hide.”
The shy demeanour had faded from him as he heard her statement, his hand found her waist as he pulled her into a hug, burying his face into the crook of her neck, breathing her in.
Yelena gripped onto his shirt as she closed her eyes and gave herself the chance to just be. Even without too many words, they understood each other, the weight of their past lives.
“Yelena..”, he hummed as though he had so much to share.
“I know.”, she responded as she held onto him tighter.
“I know you.”, she added and his hold tightened.
“You were the light in my darkness and now I cannot comprehend a life without you in it.”, he spoke as his lips brushed her skin.
Little did he know, that even in his darkest, he helped her see through the light and by doing so, become stronger. She pulled away and he reluctantly let go. Her eyes boring into his features that made his blush turn darker.
“What?”, he questioned as he fiddle with the ends of her hair.
“I’m just glad you’re not blonde anymore.”, she smiled to which he pulled her into his embrace again. But it meant more than that. She was glad he wasn’t controlled by anyone, glad that now he could just exist as he was.
His arms wrapped around her with fondness, sighing with content as he tucked his face into her neck.
His world was so much more bigger now, wasn’t just a little room he was confined in anymore, for the first time there was soft afternoon light flooding around him. He placed his forehead on hers and all he could feel was that void in him not exisiting anymore. Now he felt full. He felt light, maybe if he believed it thoroughly, he could become it.
But for now, he was here, not in a lab, not in a maze but with her. Where everything felt soft and real
The sentry was not there anymore. In its place was the love he had always craved, only now, he didn’t have to fight for it. She gave it to him freely.
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