#snntry

[cipherova]

@snntry asked: 「 GRIND 」 : for sender to grind against the receiver

Yelena   felt   it   before   she   saw   it—Bob,   subtle   as   ever,   pressing   in   a   little   too   close   under   the   low   lights   of   the   room,   the   light   of   the   movie   before   them   long   forgotten   as   she   felt   herself   pressed   on   the   couch   and   him   hovering   over   her.   Her   brows   lifted   slightly,   amused,   as   she   realized   what   he   was   doing.   The   corner   of   her   mouth   tugged   upward   into   a   smirk,   and   she   let   her   eyes   slide   to   his   with   a   kind   of   playful   challenge.   “You’re   bold   tonight,”   she   said   dryly,   the   hint   of   a   Russian   accent   curling   around   her   words   like   smoke.   She   didn’t   move   away.

Bob’s   hips   shifted   again,   more   deliberate   now,   and   Yelena   tilted   her   head,   a   quiet   moan   escaping   her   lips   at   the   motion,   repeated   again   as   he   grinds   and   her   legs   welcoming   him   between   them   further.   “I   thought   you   wanted   to   watch   a   movie”   she   asked,   eyes   narrowing   in   mock   judgment.   But   the   tension   in   her   arms   eased,   her   body   finding   its   own   slow   rhythm   against   his   without   her   really   meaning   to.   Her   fingers   grazed   inside   his   shirt   by   accident—though   it   wasn’t.   Not   entirely.   She   felt   the   hidden   weight   of   muscles,   a   welcoming   surprise   that   causes   her   to   deliver   a   pleasing   sound.

For   all   her   teasing,   Yelena   didn’t   stop   him.   If   anything,   she   leaned   in   closer,   brushing   her   lips   just   barely   past   his   ear.   "Consider   all   your   baggy   clothes   gone."   Then   she   laughed—a   soft,   throaty   sound—before   pulling   back   just   enough   to   meet   his   gaze.   The   glint   in   her   eyes   promised   two   things:   danger   and   interest.   And   after   that,   she   kisses   him   again,   her   hands   moving   to   grip   the   back   of   his   bottom,   and   encourage   his   action.

[vremyad]

"You don't think .. Like we need to worry about ghosts, do we?" "Y'know, I never really thought about it...I mean, I haven't met a ghost personally, but if they do exist, you'd think I'd run int' them more often."

[gailshabat]

@snntry

"Bob...?" The therapist had taken measured steps as casually as she could, having been informed by Bucky of just some of the facets of this man. Gail offered him a smile when their eyes met. "Or do you prefer Mr. Reynolds?"

There was a green folder in her arms that was RATHER SIZABLE, as it held the research that she'd been able to get her hands on, by means of asking these NEW AVENGERS about their friend and housemate.

Gail allowed a distance of about ten feet between them still, baring in mind that she was a stranger to him. "My name is Dr. Gail Shabat. Bucky thought that you and I might get on well, and I'd like that to be the case as well. Do you think we could have a chat?"

[svoyadovaarchived]

@snntry.

The moment Val leaves the building, it was like the oxygen returns -- thin, but bearable. Yelena stands by the window, arms wrapped around herself, jaw tight like she's still ready to go ten rounds. Her breath hitches when she hears Bob’s steps behind her. Not loud -he moves like someone who understood silence the way she did.

She doesn't turn around. Her hands rest just above her stomach, thumb brushing the hem of her sweatshirt.

"I was going to - tell you, I mean." She swallows, unable to look at him. "I just...didn't want things to...change. -- not yet." A beat. She finally turns, her jade eyes searching his expression. No frustration, just worry -- and something heartbreakingly open. "I'm three months," she confesses. "I know it's selfish but I didn't want to be pulled from the field...treated like glass. I didn't want you to look at me...different." Another pause as she fumbles with the string of the hoodie.

"Do you hate me?" sentiment meek, wanting, waiting.

[amarvelousmencgerie]

@snntry

❛  stay? i just ... don't want to be alone right now.  ❜ - becca

Becca's mind was filled with so many things over the years and as she sat in the room with Bob, it was hard to make out some of the chaos. She didn't want to pry but there were those people that were so loud, so in need of something that they just reached out and made her mind want to wrap around them and take care. She could see his dreams sometimes, after meeting him but it wasn't her place to tell anyone what she'd seen, what she'd experienced.

It was like the whole world went around, picking the weak those in need to use them as little more than lab rats. Maybe that wasn't the truth, maybe that was just how she felt being in a lab had been. She could tell that something was putting on edge.

"It wasn't often since everyone moved in that she came out of her part of the tower and mingled with the others. Each of them had their own issues and there were only so many sleepless nights she could take before her own mind would loose control. Her brother thought it would be nice if she'd get out and at least have dinner with everyone, and now she was there.

The other's had gotten a call of a disaster that needed help, some kind of build she thought they'd said and once they'd all tumbled out, talking about something or the other, Becca stood up to leave. HIs voice came from right behind her and she turned on her toes to see Bob, left and not prepared to be a hero yet.

"I can stay, Bob, but are you sure? I'm not the most interesting of people. I just read books and try to sell the really old ones."

That wasn't right, she was Asset: CodeNamed Inquisitor. Hydra's weapon, their experiment. She was a walking woman who'd been effected by three stones and had part of one inside her mind. She wasn't sure if it was fear but she knew that staying might help him.

Her smile slack as she remembered they all left and didn't finish cooking dinner. "Come on, let's go see if we can salvage any of the food they just left lying around." She chuckled, reaching out her hand gently, her soft skin against his and she couldn't help but put off a calm and mood that moved around the two of them, not letting any fears or negative emotion filter through. "Are you a very good cook? I love cooking."

[paragonhope]

Clark   stood   on   the   edge   of   the   cornfield,   his   arms   crossed   loosely   as   he   watched   Bob—hover   uneasily   a   few   feet   above   the   ground,   boots   wobbling   mid-air   like   a   colt   on   ice.   The   sun   was   setting   behind   them,   casting   long   shadows   over   the   Kansas   soil.   Clark's   voice   was   steady   and   warm,   the   kind   that   settled   nerves   rather   than   stirred   them.   "You're   not   falling,   Bob.   You're   hesitating.   There’s   a   difference,"   he   said,   the   ghost   of   a   smile   tugging   at   the   corner   of   his   mouth.   “You’ve   got   the   power.   You   just   don’t   believe   you   do   yet.”

He   stepped   forward,   the   red   of   his   cape   brushing   past   cornstalks,   and   placed   a   firm   hand   on   Bob’s   shoulder.   “I’ve   seen   it   before—in   myself,   and   in   others.   That   fear   that   you’re   too   much,   or   that   you’ll   lose   control.   But   power   doesn’t   make   you   dangerous.   It’s   what   you   choose   to   do   with   it.   The   world   can   be   loud   about   what   it   fears.   But   you   don’t   have   to   listen   to   that   noise.   You   listen   to   your   heart.”   His   gaze   was   kind   but   unwavering,   steady   as   the   wind   that   rippled   through   the   field. @snntry

Clark   took   a   step   back,   then   without   warning,   launched   into   the   air   with   a   smooth   arc,   hovering   high   above   Bob   with   the   same   ease   that   others   took   a   breath.   “Don’t   think   about   flying   as   escaping,”   he   called   down.   “It’s   not   about   running   away   from   something.   It’s   about   rising.   You’ve   already   done   the   hard   part—surviving   yourself.   Now   trust   yourself   enough   to   rise.   Come   on,   Bob.   I’m   right   here.”   There   was   no   judgment   in   Clark’s   voice.   Only   belief.   And   that,   more   than   any   power,   was   the   thing   he   offered   freely.

[honorarystripes]

@snntry

"Robert Reynolds," he thrummed his fingers against the desk, eyeing the man that sat in front of him. He was making an assessment based on presentation and the current thought was this man needed some fashion help and a decent barber. He studied him, looking at the fragile physique.

"You know, Robert, do you go by Robert?" He fumbled with his hands, and shook his head. "I think you were handled poorly by Valentina, and I do think that we can help you. I'm not an Avenger anymore but I have some experience in tackling problematic mentalities and pasts."

"What I'm trying to say, is...you're not alone."

[awbro]

[ ➶ ] @snntry

" however bad this looks ----- "

" -------- i promise, it's worse. "