#mcu bob

[bucky-barnez]

bob reynolds + his softest moment in thunderbolts*

bonus

[buckygrayson]

bob reynolds + cute expressions in thunderbolts* (2025)

[enthyrea]

welcome back fanbob

[slasher-smasher]

What Do You Mean You Were Engaged?

Paring: Bob Reynolds x F Reader (reader mentioned but not in fic)

Warnings: Mentions of past meth addiction. SFW. Bob is a sad boy but he is getting there. 🥹

Words: 1,094

Masterlist pt2

Summary: A casual night of trash TV with Yelena and Walker dredges up the truth he’s kept buried: “My fiancée wasn’t anything like that… she was lovely.”

The reality TV show flickered across the Tower’s lounge screen—bright, over-produced, shrill voices of brides and planners bickering over centerpieces and floral arrangements. Yelena had her legs kicked up on the arm of the couch, a half-empty bowl of popcorn balanced dangerously on her stomach. She squinted at the screen, unimpressed.

“This is fake,” she declared, her thick accent stretching the word until it sounded like “fehhk.” She gestured with a handful of popcorn. “Nobody actually yells about napkins. Is scripted.”

Walker, sitting at the other end of the couch with a beer in hand, snorted. “Oh, it’s real, alright. Maybe not every bit of it, but trust me—planning a wedding brings out a side you don’t wanna see. Olivia? Sweetest woman ninety-nine percent of the time. The month before our wedding, though?” He shuddered dramatically. “Scary. Like, jump-scare scary.”

That got a laugh out of the others scattered in the room. Alexei muttered something about “American stress,” and Bucky rolled his eyes, though he didn’t look up from polishing his knife.

Bob hadn’t even realized he was paying attention. The voices from the show blurred into the background, white noise like the static hum he’d lived with in his head for years. He liked it that way—distant. He hadn’t meant to let his mouth open.

But then, like a slip of rope catching on a nail, the words snagged and tumbled out before he could stop them.

“My fiancée wasn’t anything like that,” Bob murmured. His voice was soft, barely above the television. “She was… lovely. Calm. Sweet about the whole thing.”

Silence.

It hit him in the chest a second too late—what he had just said.

Everyone turned, the room’s atmosphere shifting like a pressure drop before a storm. Walker’s brows went up. Bucky’s knife stilled. Alexei tilted his head, curious. But it was Yelena who spoke first, squinting at him like he’d just sprouted another head.

“What do you mean you were engaged?” she asked, sharp but incredulous.

Bob blinked. His throat tightened, panic flaring hot. He hadn’t said that out loud in years. Hadn’t even let himself think about it for too long. Not without the burn of shame curling through his gut, mixing with memories that felt like broken glass underfoot.

His mind tugged backward, unspooling threads he’d shoved into the darkest corners.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

It had been real. That’s what hurt the most. Not a hallucination, not a fever-dream spun out of chemicals and craving. He’d had a life. A woman who loved him enough to say yes when he asked. She’d said it through tears and laughter, her hand trembling when he slipped the ring on. He could still feel the press of her lips on his, could still smell the faint warm perfume she wore, the way she teased him about his messy hair.

For a while, he’d believed in it. Believed he could be normal. That maybe the hole inside him could be filled with love instead of smoke and powder.

But then the hunger came back. The itch he couldn’t stop scratching. Meth had been his shadow long before the serum, before the powers, before the Sentry. Sobriety was fragile, always had been. And one bad week had stretched into two, then a month, until he was lying to her face about where he’d been, hands shaking as he swore he was fine.

They’d fought. God, had they fought. He remembered the crack in her voice, how she’d begged him not to throw it away. And he remembered his own voice—ugly, snarling, high and paranoid—saying things he could never take back.

One week before the wedding.

Then the Blip happened.

She was gone, just like that. One argument hanging in the air forever, no chance to fix it, no goodbye. When the world snapped her back, years later, Bob was too far gone. Too drowned in guilt, too buried in his own collapse. He couldn’t face her. Couldn’t bring himself to show up at her door, reeking of chemicals and loss, when she deserved the man she’d said yes to.

So he disappeared.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

The Tower’s lounge pressed back into focus. Yelena still staring, waiting. Walker too, his expression softening from surprise into something closer to understanding.

Bob swallowed hard. “It was a long time ago.” His voice cracked on the edges, paper-thin. He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly hyper-aware of the way his hands shook. “Didn’t work out.”

“That’s… heavy,” Walker said carefully. He leaned forward, resting his beer on his knee. “You don’t have to—”

“I don’t,” Bob cut him off. He forced a weak smile, hoping it would pass for casual. “It’s ancient history. Just—just ignore me.”

But the memories wouldn’t stop clawing. He saw her smile in the corner of his mind, the one she’d worn when she tried on her dress, twirling in front of the mirror. He saw the way her eyes had softened when he promised her forever. He remembered thinking, this is what saves me.

And then he remembered the crash—the relapse that shattered it all, the look in her eyes when she realized love couldn’t compete with the poison in his veins.

Bob leaned back into the couch, eyes fixed on the trashy reality show, though he didn’t really see it. A bride was screaming about the wrong flowers, Yelena muttering “ridiculous” under her breath. The others went back to their distractions, the moment slipping away.

But Bob couldn’t shake it. His chest ached like an old wound, pulled open again. The Tower felt smaller, the walls closer. He hated that he’d let it out, hated the way their eyes had burned into him.

Yet some part of him—small, trembling, buried—felt lighter.

For years he’d carried it alone, the ghost of a love he’d ruined. The guilt had been his anchor, his excuse for never trying again. But now the words were out, hanging in the air where others could see them.

“I was engaged.”

Maybe saying it didn’t change the past. Didn’t bring her back, didn’t erase the damage. But it was real. She had been real. And for the first time in years, Bob let himself remember that without reaching for a needle, without running.

He pressed his hands into his knees, steadying himself. The others were laughing again, Yelena mocking the show’s fake crying, Walker arguing that it wasn’t fake at all. Life moving on around him.

Bob exhaled slowly, the ghost of a smile tugging at his mouth.

She’d been lovely. She’d been real.

And maybe, just maybe, he could be too.

Thank you for reading. 💗

[dissolved-g1rl]

half a person ་༘࿐

“Down the hatch.” You cup Bob’s chin, he shuts and swallows his medication obediently. “Water?” He asks sleepily, cupping his hands together like he’s expecting you to pour some in his hands. “Bottle.” You reply, handing him the half empty water bottle that resides on the nightstand. He wordlessly uncaps it, tipping it into his mouth to help his pills travel down his esophagus. He turns his head to the side, opening his mouth and flips his tongue up, showing that he actually swallowed and isn’t tonguing his meds. Old habits. You kiss the corner of his lips, positive reinforcement or something.

“I don’t want to get up.” He mumbles, his voice deeper and groggier in the morning. You find his hand, kissing the center of his palm. You’re cautious with him, not wanting to get up for a half hour is fine, but with him, not wanting to get up could be a days long thing. Rotting in the same clothes and avoiding the sun. “What if…we tried that new muffin recipe?” You suggest, a good way to gauge his mood. “Hmmm I dunno, I think I used the rest of the flour yesterday.” Bob mumbles, draping his arm across your waist. “We can go to the store, thats an easy fix.” You turn over, brushing his hair away from his face, he blinks at you, sticking his tongue out at you, closing his mouth before you can try and pinch his tongue. You did it once and he’s never let it go. “Yeah, I guess we could.” Bob taps his fingers against your cheek, you’re happy to hear he’s willing to go out, even to somewhere mundane, like the store.

“Let’s go then, I wanna get those graham crackers things.”

“The teddy bears?”

“mhmm Yeah.”

You two are entirely codependent, brushing your teeth together, brushing each other’s hair, it’s half sick half cute. Two truths can coexist you suppose. You wear one of his shirts, a weird graphic tee that is just so weird it borders on charming. “That’s so ugly.” Bob snorts, quietly, like a cat, it’s so cute. “This is literally yours.” You give him a look, pulling on the collar. “Oh yeah..” He realizes, pinching your cheek, Bob has these bouts of affection, where he looks at you like he wants to take a bite out of you. He kind of does, but figures that a little mean. He settled for a nibble, right against your chin. “Ewwww.” You make a face, he laughs, wiping his whole palm against your face to wipe his spit off. “Whoopsie.” Bob says innocently, pushing the impulsive thought to just lick your face like a dog out of his brain.

“Okay, c’mon, we’re gonna be late!” You say pushing him around the apartment.

“To the store?” Bob asks rather confused, yet good willed, like the sweetheart he is.

“Uh yeah, it’s sunday, we have to try and beat all the soccer moms, duh.”

Bob smiles at you, you’re so silly, it makes his stomach swirl with warmth. “Yeah, okay.” He ignores your squawk when he loops his arms around you tightly, placing wet smooches onto your skin, he can’t help himself from the loving urge to just smother the hell out of you.

dividers by @strangergraphics

a/n: five days no fic, sorry everyone, hopefully this makes up for it…?

[hardbeingcasual]

❛ if we learn our love is the hurting kind, i’ll let it devour me ❜

hurting kind bob fem reader

♪ hurting kind, del water gap

masterlist / marvel masterlist / part two

summary. You and Bob are best friends, you’re there for him no matter what. But he leaves.

warnings. drugs. addiction. slight mentions of throw up. ansgt but pt2 wont be alllll that :-) no dialogue (sorry i got carried away)

When you first found Bob out of his mind, you didn’t judge him. You didn’t belittle him for it. You knew about his family issues as you both grew up together. You were always his shoulder to cry on, as he was yours.

You were always there for him— when he was fighting his thoughts, or when he was battling his withdrawals you were there, with a cold towel patting his head as the beads of sweat form on his head, mixed with the tears that were pooling in his eyes before they fall onto his cheeks, coating his skin. And you would softly dry them away, while whispering sweet nothings to him.

You were there for it all.

High school to adulthood. You held his hand through everything. To when he first turned to Meth, to when he first tried to turn away from meth.

Most importantly when you were in highschool and you both didn’t have a prom date — so you went together. He went dress shopping with you, and you matched colours with his suit, because you were best friends.

Bob wasn’t so sure why you were still there by his side when he was battling his addiction — when he was fighting his withdrawals he’d utter some nasty stuff to you, and you’d take the words in, but didn’t let them get to you. You both sat in the bathroom, the towel in your hands now dropped to the floor due to your shock. Unshed tears now linger in your eyes as you stare into his eyes, noticing the lost look in them. You stood up and let him cool down, as you left the room. Bob sat there watching your retreating figure, deep down he felt guilty, but in that moment he had no control of what he was doing, it was the drugs in his system.

So when he saw you walk back into the room with tear stained cheeks and a glass of water for him, he knew you were too good for him. He knew he had to get better. For you.

So he left. To get his life together, so he can be better for you.

He left a note on the fridge of your home — the home you both basically shared, considering he was too unstable to live alone, you let him into your space. His toothbrush now next to yours, his shampoo bottles next to yours on the shelf in your now shared bathroom, a pillow that was once yours now smelling like him, the left side of your bed was now his side of the bed. You slept beside him at nights in case he was sick in his sleep, in case something was to happen at night. As he finally slept after a breakdown you wanted to reach out and hold the hand he had laying under his pillow. But you resisted.

When you got home from work your home seemed very still, something seemed off. It was never this silent, usually you heard the shuffling of feet, or the clanging of pots in the kitchen as Bob tried to make you a meal after your long day of work.

That's when you noticed it, the note on your fridge, the stickers dotted on it — the stickers you would jokingly give him as an award for him trying to stay sober. The paper used for the note ripped out of your notepad.

Next to the note was one of the post-it notes you left him in the morning — a daily ritual you did to keep him going, to motivate him to stay clean.

Your post-it note had a simple ‘You got this!’ with a drawn smiley face next to it. It was depressing looking at your note compared to Bob’s.

Bob’s note said, ‘I’m sorry, I’m trying to get better for you. I’m leaving for you. I will find you again, when I'm better.’ In his messy handwriting, no doubt his hands were shaking as he wrote it.

Your hands shook as you grabbed the note off the fridge, tears escaping out your eyes and down your cheeks, dripping onto the page and staining the paper.

Simple words but soul shattering for you. A million thoughts raced through your minds as you read the page over and over again.

The silence in your home was almost deafening — it didn’t even feel like home anymore, without him it wasn’t home. Bob’s presence that once lingered in the halls was now gone, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts.

TIME SKIP — THE VOID

The Void had entirely corrupted Bob. Taking over the city and his newfound friends he met in the Vault— the Vault that almost killed them, the one that almost took him from getting back to you.

You. You were here.

Well, it was a memory of you.

One where you were desperately trying to help him as he fought the drugs in his system. You and Bob were in your bathroom, you had a towel in your hand once again as you tried to clean the puke off of his face as you cling to him, silent pleas on the tip of your tongue. Bob was too high to even notice it then — But now? He saw it. He saw what you had to deal with when he couldn’t function, he saw the struggle, he saw your determination to make him better. And so did the rest of his newcomer’s. Yelena, Bucky, Alexei, Ava, John saw his memory of you. They saw you. They saw what you went through with him. They watched sorrowfully as they saw you beg him to stay with you, as you put his head under the cold shower to awaken him.

Bob stood awkwardly in the corner as he watched, his posture slackened as he watched with guilt. The guilt crawled up on him like the void did prior.

And he felt judged by the rest of the group. But it was completely the opposite, they weren’t judging him. They were pitying him. They can see how he desperately wanted to get back to you, the expression currently on his face gave him away, the yearning so evident in his eyes as he couldn’t help but watch the scene unfold in front of him.

The group silently agreed that they would help him get back to you.

published. 04:25 am gmt (😭)

notes. ive had this idea for awhile now, and now finally got to it. i'll try get to pt2 as soon as i can :-)

[petertism]

yelena and bob are siblings.... sorry

[etherealsymphony]

(A random thought in my head so ignore how dogshit this is lol)

Ava, Bob, and Yelena sneaking a cat into Ava’s room before anyone can see them. Cut to John barging in and being like….

“Hey Ava have you seen my sweatshirt, you know the one you were wearing when we— is that a cat?”

“Uhhhhhh”

“Yall are screwed. Buck is gonna act like a crazy cat mom now. You know how much Alpine hates other cats”

Yelena giving her best pout and John’s like “fine I’ll tell him” cause he’s just so boyfriend like that