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The Void was greedy.
Its only desires were to take, take, take. He wanted to take his host's mind, drown it in darkness and pain until it mirrored his own. It wanted its host to despair, for the anguish he felt made him stronger.
He observed people through his host's eyes. People that were ripe with fear and hatred… he wanted to take them too.
A small piece of himself was exposed to whoever his host touched. He dragged them into himself, dug them apart and salted their wounds as Robert watched their most hated memories unfold.
The taste of shame and self loathing was always sweet, but there was truly nothing like that of his first accidental invasion. Her mind… it was so full of hatred and despair that he could survive off of her alone for as long as he existed. It was much like his host's.
For her, though, his desire felt… different than it did for anyone else.
The disgraced man certainly hated himself more, but he wasn't as satisfying. The manipulative crone's flavor hardly sated the hunger.
Even as dozens of minds succumbed to him, it wasn't the same. Until he managed to take her again, he did not understand why.
She was eager to accept her shortcomings. She didn't hesitate to despair. It was a part of her like how darkness ran through his veins. She was much like Robert. The more she despaired, the closer she became to him.
And that's what made it realize.
She brought light into his darkness. Her presence dragged Robert back into the light, away from him.
Her light… her light was what made her darkness so tantalizing.
Robert's heart warmed in her presence. The void was forced into silence as she brightened the room.
He didn't like that. Robert was his toy to break. He didn't want her to fix him. They wanted to leave? Make him alone? He wanted to take both of them. He wanted to feed off of her and make her belong to him as well. He would not let them go.
Pieces of his facade flew into their prone bodies, trying their hardest to knock the pair out. It grabbed her in an attempt to drag her deeper inside, but its host interfered.
Fine, then, if they wished to be together, he'd strangle them both. Closer, and closer, and closer still, the darkness crept in as the pair weakened and Robert prepared to succumb…
Until those interlopers interrupted. With his focus on his host, and while tuning out the waves of anguish as he continued to spread his influence outside, he failed to attend to the others. And what a shame, too, because their pain was particularly potent as well.
But he knew they were trying to leave. They did not know they would have to go through him. It would consume them one at a time, starting with its errant host and his favorite person, and regain control.
And he was so, so close. The pleasure from each hate filled punch to his guise brought him closer to having it all. He was mere seconds away from finally winning before that troublesome light returned.
The darkness withdrew, and he felt the distance between himself and his host widen. “It will always be just us,” he said, before fading into the back of Bob's mind.
The void woke up.
It dreamed of light, of alien feelings poisoning its arteries, of hope…until one day, familiar feelings of anguish returned and freed it from its slumber.
He could speak again, could whisper truths into his host's ears again. He could feel the comforting darkness rising.
He coveted the light that continued to cling to Robert. She would get closer and closer to him, because the light only makes a bigger shadow. If he took her, he could take his host too.
It was amusing, really. She didn't seem to realize just how much fear she was generating in Robert. A small misstep would be all it takes for the void to return.
His opportunity arrives sooner than he anticipated.
Recently, the pair had taken to resting near each other in the Watchtower's common area or, rarely, in Robert's room while watching movies.
His host had yet to regain his memories, but the void never forgets anything. He knew that even a small touch while they slept would be enough to drag her into his darkness.
He just had to be patient.
Waiting was easy. Observing Robert while staving off an alien feeling of his own was not so easy. It was wrong; before, the closest thing he had to a feeling was desire, or hunger, but now there was something more personal lurking in his mind. It didn't know what this hatred-like feeling was. It burned inside him as he watched her smile at his host. It made him desire her more.
One night, his patience was finally rewarded. They'd fallen asleep in his host's room again, but this time closer than usual. All it took was a light brush of her fingers against his.
Darkness flooded her vision. Snow began to gently fall.
“Bob?” she called out. “Are you here?”
“No.”
Her expression sours at his voice. He likes the way her nose scrunches up as she is visibly upset.
“Where's Bob?” she asked, or demanded, glancing around like she was looking for him.
But it was his world. He didn't care about her demands.
A gunshot sounded behind her. She didn't so much as flinch this time. “Where's. Bob.” Her voice was colder.
“You won't have to worry about that for much longer,” he answers. “You can both be part of me.”
“Why won't you show yourself?”
“What, do you want to see me?”
“Even if you want to kill me, you are Bob still,” she says, as if that explains anything.
His presence moves to lurk behind her, and he laughs dryly. As she startles and twists around, he says, “That's not who I am. And no, I don't want to kill you.”
He tastes the beautiful fear in her eyes as she scans her surroundings to find him. She almost looked disgusted…or something worse… by the sound of his voice in her ears. Some of the snow on the ground begins to melt.
“Then what do you want with me?”
Stepping behind her again, he slides a cold hand onto her shoulder. “What I want… is you.”
He feels her whole body shudder. She tries to shake him off, but she's unable to move at all. He leans in close and whispers. “I want you to be mine.”
The tips of her ears gain a soft tint, but she remains silent. “Not Robert's,” he bites out with enough vitriol to surprise himself, “but mine.”
“What does this have to do with Bob?” she asks tersely.
The Void laughs. “Haven't you noticed? He wants you. But he's mine. And you're taking him away from me. You make me weaker. But his pain makes me stronger. If you're mine forever, I can reclaim him.”
“That's… never going to happen,” she says. The flush on her face betrays her.
“I can keep you here for as long as I want. There's no use fighting.”
He steps in front of her and solidifies so she can finally see him. Another gunshot echoes through the room, but it's far away from both of their minds at the moment.
Thoughtlessly, he raises a dark hand to her cheek. The warmth feels strange compared to his permanent chill. But it was… a good strange? He likes it.
He caresses her face with his thumb. “Beautiful. That's how he thinks of you.”
He stills as she speaks again. “And what do you think of me?”
The question confused him. Before he could formulate a response, she spoke first.
“You said how Bob felt, but say you are not Bob. You look like Bob and have his body, but do you have your own feelings?”
“I don't have feelings.”
She shook her head. “You do, or you would not be holding me here. I think you are jealous.”
“...Jealous?”
“You want what Bob has because you think he has me. Or you think I have Bob.”
“I can take whatever I want, why would I have such a paltry ‘feeling’?”
“It's because you don't have what you want.”
The snow fell harder. “I have you, now.”
His hand slid downwards, wrapping around her neck. “I can do anything I want with you here.” His fingers squeezed lightly. “I could choke the life out of you again, and again, and again.”
Her voice lowered, steady and unafraid of his threat. “But that is not what you want.”
“What do I want, then?” he hissed.
“Let me go, and I'll show you.”
The Void growled, but stepped back, pulling his hand away.
The second she was released, she charged forward and pressed her lips against the outlines of his. The sound of a gunshot slowed to a crawl as the world around them physically narrowed.
He felt the warmth of her mouth against his filling him up inside. It felt…good. So good. He wanted… he wanted more. More of her.
He parted his lips and claimed her mouth as his own, swallowing the soft gasp that escaped her. His hand slid back up to her neck, caressing it tenderly before his hands tightened.
Her hands grabbed at his shoulders as if to pull him closer, before she wrapped her arms around his neck and hoisted herself up, moaning into his mouth.
Fuck, he wanted her so fucking badly. He wanted her to be a part of him forever. He wanted to consume her. He didn't know how much of it was only literal anymore.
He separated from her mouth to press fervent kisses to her neck and jaw. His teeth painted red marks along any empty skin he could reach.
“Those are—mmh, temporary, right?” she asked through her satisfied moans.
“I wish they weren't. Everyone should know you're mine.”
She seemed to like hearing that, because she sighed and bucked her hips against him. He let out a ragged groan in response and captured her lips again.
Her tongue slid into his mouth, and he returned the favor, exchanging sloppier and sloppier kisses as she rocked against him.
He stepped forward until he'd backed her into one of the few remaining trees on the set. His hands moved to frame the side of her head as he used the support to kiss her deeper and thrust his own hips.
She shuddered so fully that he could feel it and moaned desperately into his mouth. Her legs crossed behind his back. It felt impossibly closer. But maybe they could get even closer? He wanted to be inside of her.
He thrusted his hips hard against hers, matching and exceeding her pace, hoping to make her come against him. And oh, did she come.
With a broken moan, her legs shook as she fell apart in his arms. Her hands grasped and tugged at his shadowed hair as she rode out her orgasm while pressed so tightly against him. He peppered kisses to her face and neck while she came down from her high.
“And you didn't even touch me,” she said, voice raw.
“I want to change that.”
He pulled her off of him effortlessly, like she weighed nothing, before setting her down in the snow. The ground was warm, and the snow didn't feel like ice. She sank into it like she belonged there, blissful expression on her face as he climbed onto her and pinned her to the ground with his hand.
He wanted to taste her. He wanted to taste what he had done to her. He wanted to claim her body with the most intimate parts of his.
He didn't ask before her sweatpants were pulled off of her like a convenient dream. It was his world. What he wanted was his. And he wanted her.
He spread her thighs open and bit kisses onto the plump flesh, licking any marks he left behind. She shook under his touch, but found she couldn't move her body, like an invisible hand was pushing her down. Her hands could, however, and they found a comfortable place in his hair again.
Her hands fisted themselves in his hair when he grazed his teeth against her soaked, clothed core. He made a satisfied noise at the feeling. “Do that again,” he requested.
Obediently, she tugged at his locks, drawing a soft moan from him. He followed the urge to softly bite down onto a large part of her inner thigh in response to the pleasure.
As she massaged his scalp, he slipped his hands behind her waistband and cupped her. His thumb found her clit and rubbed it, making her gasp and shudder.
“Everywhere I touch you becomes mine. No one else's. No one who has touched you before matters. No one else will touch you. You're mine, forever.”
The claim makes her hands tighten in his hair again. He feels a foreign urge drawing his unused hand to the bulge in his blackened slacks. It was foreign to him, but not to his host. To him, the familiar was usually what came after.
A ragged sigh escaped him when his hand grazed his clothed erection. He cupped himself, but focused on adding a finger into her entrance. She casually rocked her hips against his hand for friction.
He could reach deep inside her effortlessly by bending the rules of this reality. She shook and moaned as he found the perfect spot every time before adding a second finger. His pace was deliberate and teasing, but her hips moved erratically. “Fuck, please, faster,” she moaned.
Instead of listening, he slowed down, drawing a string of Russian curses from her. Panting from touching himself, he teases, “Beg me for it.”
She hisses before whining, “Please, please, make me come again, faster—”
He withdraws his hand entirely, making her groan in frustration, before removing her underwear and climbing over her.
With his unseen pants and underwear removed, he leans down and teases her entrance with his cock. “I'll make you come,” he growls. “I'll make you come so hard you'll never be able to feel anything like it again from anyone else.”
“Fuck— fuck me already—” Her plea is interrupted by a gasp as he ruts himself against her inner thigh, just close enough to tease the intoxicating friction.
He leans down and captures her mouth in his again, drinking in her beautiful sounds as she raises her hips in a wordless plea to enter her.
He'd stalled for long enough, though. He wanted to claim her inside and out and he was ready. She was ready. She was his.
Callously, he slid himself into her in one motion, making her back arch and her voice dry up from the feeling of his sheer length filling her. He panted against her lips, reveling in the feeling of being inside her, before he drew himself backwards and thrust with punishing force.
She practically screamed for him, taking his length so well as she held his neck with her arms. Each thrust was deeper than the last, and her voice reached a new octave each time. As his pace quickened, so did the slew of curses she hissed out to punctuate his movements.
Her hips followed the ebb and flow of his in spite of the brutal pace. She was just so perfect, so beautiful, so his. No one else deserved to see her like this.
Her legs trembled and her grip on him began to tighten as her voice peaked—she was close. “Come on my dick, show me who you belong to.”
His words made her choke out a moan as he could feel her squeezing him. Her back rose and her arms held him like a vice until she went slack and panted out a long moan.
He continued thrusting through the orgasm, watching her limp body shake on his dick. Splayed out in the soft, warm snow, she let herself be fucked until her energy returned and her hand dropped to her clit to rub on it as he continued.
“You want to come again, don't you? You come so pretty, I want to see you do it again.”
She moaned in response. His hand joined hers in touching her clit, but his larger hands seemed to do something for her, because it riled her up quickly. “Fuck, fuck— please, make me— come again,” she hissed.
She repeated the string of curses in Russian, occasionally interrupted by a gasp.
He wanted to come inside her so badly, and he was getting close. She was too, from the way her legs were trembling again. He paused, adjusted himself, and thrusted deep and hard, groaning as he filled her. Her voice broke as she moaned in response to his new brutal pace.
Then it happened. Her legs tightened against his waist, and with a loud moan, she came for her third time, her body squeezing him again. He thrust into her one last time, as deep as possible, before he came, filling her with wave after wave of come as her body encouraged him.
His body went slack, and he lay on top of her as she rode out the aftershocks.
His hands found her breasts under her t-shirt, lazily stroking his thumbs against the nipples. She twitched under him like she wanted to move.
“Oh? Do you still have energy?”
“Mm,” was her response.
She twitched again, then suddenly turned them over, still pressed tightly together while he remained inside her.
His black silhouette lay prone in the snow, waiting to see what she was doing.
She quickly removed her shirt, tossing it behind them, before reaching between them and teasing the base of his dick with her hand.
“So you do have more energy.”
“Do not get it confused, I am taking over now.”
“I will let you own me too.”
“Good. Now listen to me, okay?”
She pulls off of him but not before rolling her hips. He watches her with bated breath as he feels himself get hard again.
“I'm going to sit on your face.”
He immediately understands. She does just that before leaning slightly and holding the base of his cock. He eagerly laps at her pussy, tasting himself dripping out of her.
She moans as she strokes him gently yet hurriedly.
He wants to make her come with his tongue too. Or fuck her again while shes slick with him. Or both.
It seems she had a similar idea, because she eventually sits up and turns around, lining herself up over his erection.
She slowly lowers herself onto him, breathing a ragged sigh when she bottoms out. He lay mesmerized by the sight of disappearing into her again, breathing heavily in anticipation.
She digs her nails into his ambiguously clothed chest as she lifts herself up, before building her rhythm to ride him.
Their gasps form another medley as her bounces push him deeper into the snow. Her pace quickens, but devolves, and he can tell she's getting close. But he isn't.
He watches as she falls apart on top of him, gripping him tightly as she comes for the fourth time. The squeeze practically begs him to come, but he needs a bit more encouragement.
He lunges at her, pressing her back into the snow again, before pulling out and flipping her onto her stomach. His hands grasped at her breasts and hoisted her slightly upright, before he suddenly thrusts back into her from behind.
She gasps, stunned by the new, deeper angle. He doesn't waste any time in picking up the pace.
“You're— mine—” he growls between thrusts.
All she can do is take it, voice reduced to crying out in ecstasy with each punishing thrust. His grip on her breasts is tantalizing, driving her crazy as he fucks into her relentlessly.
“Come— for me. One— more—”
She's driven to climaxing sooner than expected, coming with his dick buried deep into her once more. She cries out loudly, “Bob—” as she goes limp.
Hearing that name made the void shudder. He growls into her ear and thrusts harder and faster like it would make her forget his pathetic counterpart. “Not his. Mine,” he hisses.
She can only gasp and pant in response, having not recovered yet. Her body still begs for him to release inside her again, but he continues, thoughtless and careless.
She comes again. He keeps going. She comes one more time, ragged and weak, before he finally lets go, thrusting as deep as he can go and painting her walls again. With a deep growl, he comes and comes and comes inside her, like he can permanently fill her up with himself. When he finishes, he doesn't let her go.
The snow seems to warm impossibly further. The darkness surrounding them closes in.
“Stay with me,” he asks, but it doesn't come out like a question. “You're perfect.”
She's too exhausted to speak. Her eyes are glazed over with the most fucked out expression, and it nearly makes him want to fuck her again.
He gently caresses her cheek with icy black fingers. He could keep her here forever. Nothing would stop him. Unless his loathsome counterpart figures out what's going on, he's free to keep his light for as long as he wants. Which is forever. He wants her forever.
As she falls asleep, however, she murmurs, “Bob…”
The Void hears something shatter.
He disappears, withdrawing itself from her in an instant.
She only vaguely notices his absence. Her mind was drifting away, the increasing warmth of the snow below her drawing her in.
The darkness swallows up the entire rest of the scene, closing in until only a thin line of snow outlines her. She lets sleep take her as her mind goes dark.
Bob wakes up.
He didn't know when he fell asleep. It must've been while they were watching that movie together.
A familiar weight rests on his shoulder. Yelena sleeps, leaning onto his body.
He watches her and the serene expression on her face. She looks comfortable in a way she rarely lets herself feel.
Then he notices how hot she is. Not— not her appearance, but her body heat. She was radiating heat like she was him or the Sentry. Bob raised a hand to her forehead and recoiled. She practically burned to the touch.
“Yelena,” he called, shaking her gently. “Yelena, wake up.”
Her eyes didn't even twitch. Alarm shot through Bob's veins. She was a light sleeper, and woke up really easily. It was the reason they hung out together late at night; they both struggled with falling and staying asleep.
But even shaking her didn't wake her up. He was well acquainted with the sound of her breathing. She wasn't faking. Something was preventing her from waking up.
He held her against him, ignoring the way it felt like her skin burned him. “Wake up, Yelena,” Bob repeated, voice shaking.
He needed to calm down and think. Maybe there was a way he could get into her head. There was always that power he had, a small piece of the void within him. Lately he'd been trying to suppress it, but it could be his only hope of figuring out what was wrong with Yelena.
Bob took her hand into his. He let some of the darkness crawl out and drag them inside.
When his eyes adjusted, he realized it was pitch black.
His surroundings were nothing but a dark void.
“Yelena!” Bob called. “Yelena, where are you?”
The world seemed to shift after he spoke. Something soft landed on his shoulder. He could feel more and more of it accumulating. Was it… snow? It was freakishly warm, for snow.
The sound of a gunshot rang out.
Alarmed, Bob began to run in the direction of the sound. He trudged through the hot snow that burned his feet more and more the further he ran.
The gunshot echoed through the area again. He was much closer now.
“Yelena…!” he called, to no response.
Then, suddenly, he was able to see a distant speck of light.
The snow fell harder, whipping at his face as he approached the light.
Bang. The gunshot sound was so close now.
And the light? He was close enough to be able to make out what it was now. “Yelena!” Bob shouted.
She was lying unmoving and buried in the snow. The darkness surrounded her body like a vice, gripping her tightly but unable to put out her light.
The snowfall was more like a blizzard now, forcing Bob to slowly step forward through the burning ice.
“Stop.”
Bob froze. It was his voice. Or, the void's voice.
“What did you do to her?!” Bob shouted into the darkness.
“She's just asleep.”
“Then why won't she wake up?”
“She wanted to be a part of me.”
Bob continued forwards, step after laborious step through the thick onslaught of unseeable snow.
“She let herself be a part of me.”
The ground trembled as Bob ignored the void and kept walking.
“Stop. Don't interfere.”
“Interfere with what exactly?”
“She's mine. Stay away.”
The snow and wind grew more violent as he got closer, as did the shaking.
Bob could now clearly see her body, laying prone in the thick snow. It was covering most of her like clothing.
The void could not keep him away forever. He stepped into the light and kneeled down over Yelena's sleeping body. The blizzard lessened into a light snowfall.
“Yelena, wake up,” Bob said, reaching a hand towards her face.
Suddenly, a flash of movement startled him. Her hand snapped forward, grabbing his and tossing him onto the ground. She slipped out of the snow that was covering her and pinned him down.
Her eyes were still closed. But her body was bare, save for the angry marks that covered her neck and collar.
Bob was stunned. He didn't expect to be seeing her naked and covered in hickeys, let alone while pinning him to the ground.
A shameful jolt of arousal ran through him. It was a bad time, but she was so beautiful his mind turned to static.
“Y-Yelena… why're you…”
“I told you to stop.”
Bob looked up behind him and saw two pinpricks of light floating alone in the darkness.
“What did you do,” Bob hissed.
“I told you, she wanted to be part of me. I fulfilled her wish. She and her beautiful body are mine now.”
“Let her go.”
Yelena's body increased her pressure, driving him deeper into the snow.
“You're in no position to be making demands.”
The void stepped out of the shadows and leaned down towards Bob. A black hand reached towards his face and cupped his chin. “I'll be taking you too, soon. This is no place for being a hero, Bobby.”
It tilted its head as if it was sneering. “It's your fault she's here, anyway.”
Bob winced. “Then don't hurt her and take me instead.”
The void's laugh echoed through the whole set and made his skin crawl.
“Hurt her? You're the one who hurts her. I helped her. I made her feel better than she ever has. You're too much of a coward to even see past yourself.”
“What…?” Bob didn't like what it was implying.
It scoffed. “You couldn't admit that you loved her. But she loved you enough to try to reason with me. I can't be reasoned with. I only take what's given to me. She gave herself to me.”
The void's hand moved to his neck. “But you don't have to worry. I'll take you too. Then you'll always be together… as a part of me.”
Its hand squeezed tightly and viciously. With her body forcing him down, it was already difficult to breathe. “Ye…lena…” Bob gasped.
The energy and fight in him drained from his body as the corners of his vision became fuzzy. Before his body gave in, he grabbed one of Yelena's hands and squeezed.
I'm sorry, he thought.
Her eyes suddenly snapped open. “Bob!”
She eased off of him and glowered at the void, who shrank away in fear. The space around Yelena and Bob lit up and the snow cooled to a comfortable chill.
“Bob, are you okay?” Yelena asked, fear in her eyes.
He coughed below her. “I'm, ugh, fine… but uh,” he coughed again, glancing away, “You're kind of…naked.”
Her eyes widened and she seemed to remember something as her face flushed red. “Oh my gosh.”
She notices him pointedly not looking at her. “It's okay, Bob, you can look at me,” she says with an amused note to her voice.
When he looks back up at her, his eyes well up with tears. “Yelena… I—”
She cuts him off by pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “I know,” Yelena says.
His mind short circuits. “I-I-I was going to say I was s-sorry.”
“I know that too.”
He reached up and hugged her, and the light filled the set until it was a set no longer, and they were back in Bob's room.
They were still holding each other as they returned to reality.
Yelena, fully clothed again, asked, “Is your memory okay?”
Bob nodded. “I think it's because I entered on my own. It wasn't a full voiding anyway.”
He still couldn't remember what happened the last time the void surfaced. He'd been filled in by Yelena and the rest of the Thunderbolts— er, New Avengers, but his own recollection of what happened was still lost.
But it was fine, because they all supported him. And he had Yelena to keep him grounded.
He had a lot of questions for her about what just happened, but he opted to save them for another time. “How about… we just sleep like this?”
Yelena smiled. “Forward now, are you?”
Bob stammered, “Well, y'know, I kinda just—”
“Of course we can, Bob,” she interrupted. She reached up and patted his head.
They leaned back against his couch and let themselves drift off together, never letting the other go.
“You prefer him, don't you?”
Yelena shook her head. “You're both Bob to me.”
“But I'm not him. Not the part of him that you like.”
“I love him, and that includes every part of him. You too,” she says.
“We'll see if that's true. I'll always be here.”
“And I will be too.”