#sowb

Walker on the other hand is just a dude who doesn't care. He's given up on shame.

But with Bob his day to day has become routine, a schedule he keeps to. He says it helps him manage the darker parts of his life, at first you thought he meant the Void; but he was also talking about his older habits. 

Bob has been clean for a long while now and there has never been an indication of a relapse, and honestly you're a little mad and disappointed with yourself for even thinking there might be. 

It's just Bob doesn't sneak out; he always tells at least someone, usually Yelena, where he's going. He doesn't clam up and start spluttering half baked excuses when asked what he did the previous night. He never blows off movie night, usually he's the first there in the common room with his blanket, waiting for you to arrive with the popcorn.

But he has been. He has been sneaking out, has been clamming up, he has been skipping out on movie night.

You try to casually ask around but for a bunch of spies who usually have no boundaries they seem very nonplussed about your queries.

Yelena assures you it's fine and to just leave it alone, Ava hasn't even really noticed and John says he's probably got a secret girlfriend.

You trust Yelena, you know how close her and Bob are. It once drove you mad with jealousy but after realising there was no romantic feelings between them the fogged cleared and you saw how good it was for Bob to have a best friend like Yelena.

Also you didn't want to be one of those people that got jealous every time a member of the opposite sex talked to someone you liked.

You do sometimes wish it was you though.

Anyway, since everyone was of so little help you decided to figure it out yourself. You were a pretty decent spy. 

--

Like Bob's normal routine of laundry on Sunday, grocery shopping on Wednesday and changing the bed linens on Saturday; his mysterious night time activity was also on a schedule. 

Twice a week, Tuesday and Thursday; leaving the tower at 7:30pm on the dot. 

You watch as he passes Yelena, offering her a small smile and a nod in greeting before getting on the elevator. 

She doesn't even ask where he's going. She must know something.

You decide against cornering her and asking again, you know there's no point. Not even Hydra would be able to torture the information out of her. Where's Bucky when you need him?

Okay, that was a little rude. Thank god there's no telepaths in the building.

You wait until you hear the door to Yelena's room close before heading towards the elevator, you watch as the numbers gradually countdown until reaching the first floor. You smack the button and wait for it to come back up, contemplating taking the stairs but there's no way you'd make it to the bottom in time. 

You should have planned for this. 

Before deciding to just base jump from a window the doors ding and you step inside, as you go to close the door you hear Walker calling for you to hold it. Feigning deafness you hit the 'close' button a few extra times and thankfully they shut before he makes it.

That last thing you see before the doors shut is John's annoyed yet confused gaze.

You impatiently tap your foot against the cool metal of the floor, why is this taking so long? Has the elevator always been this slow? What if there was an emergency?

When the doors open with a ding you let out a huff and speed walk over to the buildings exit, nodding to the security guard behind the desk. 

When you're on the street you frantically look around for the familiar flop of brown curls, the street is fairly empty this time of night but even with the street lights it's still dark.

"What way did Bob go?" you call back to the guard. 

With a slightly startled jump, he puts down the word jumble and points to the left, you give him a quick thank you before making your way down the sidewalk.

Thankfully you don't have to break out into a jog because a few meters up the road is Bob. 

You take a second to fall back a bit, getting a little too close in your eagerness to find him. 

He has his airpods in and is bopping his head a bit to whatever song he is listening to, a plastic bag swinging beside him as he walks. Did he always have the bag? 

Usually you'd find that cute and endearing but you're in work mode right now. No time for fun.

You're feeling immense guilt with each step you take. He's done nothing to truly make you doubt his trust and yet here you are stalking him. The man just brings this out in you. You swear before moving to the tower you used to have boundaries.

Bob is your friend, one of your closest. You spend the most time with him then anyone, hell, most nights he ends up in bed with you. 

When it started he'd make up poor excuses; glare from the street lights (50 floors up?), cold in his room, (he usually slept with the A/C on cause he runs hot), Alexei snores, that one you believed. 

But you could never find yourself to care because you quickly realised that you slept better next to Bob. Your nightmares weren't as frequent and you ran cold so you enjoyed having a personal heater in your bed. He's like a barnacle that attaches itself to you as soon as he hits the mattress and you find that his touch grounds you. 

He's told you that it helps him too, you did notice that after the first few times the dark bags under his eyes started to recede, and maintenance wasn't having to come up and change as many light bulbs anymore, when Bob would wake from his nightmares he'd let out a pulse of energy that was like an EMP. 

Much to your disappointment nothing sexual ever came of it, Bob being far too polite and shy. The closest you have ever gotten is feeling his hard on in the morning before he stutters out and apology and rushes from your room. You always felt a tad guilty wishing more did come from it, he saw you as a means of comfort and you wanted to climb him like a tree. 

You often felt he reciprocated your feelings, that was until you saw him interact with anyone else. All smiles and crimson cheeks, biting his lips and meaningful stares. Stupid Bob making everyone he interacts with feel special.

You thought you had made a new breakthrough with your relationship when it became more playful and sassy but you noticed once again he became like that with others when he had warmed up to them enough. 

Still you had your own things that you did together, apart from sleeping in the same bed, you had tv shows that just the two of you would watch, you'd wear his clothes and he'd put his hair up in one of your scrunchies when it would get into his eyes when reading. Sometimes when he was out shopping he'd buy you some clothes and trinkets, stuff he thought you'd like. 

You were even wearing one of the shirts now; grey with a small butterfly decal on the chest.

You're pulled out of your thoughts when Bob crosses the road, you wait for a car to pass before following, making sure to maintain a distance. 

You end up following him for a good twenty minutes before he makes a sharp right turn down an alleyway, you're grateful he walked, you would have never been able to catch up to him if he took a taxi or uber. 

But you know Bob likes to walk, he says it helps regulate his moods. Every morning he goes for a walk around the local park, sometimes you join but he does like to go alone, listening to music and getting his steps in is almost as beneficial as therapy according to him.  

You peak out from behind the brick wall of the apartment building and watch as Bob takes a quick glance around before knocking a pattern onto a metal door. 

Your heart sinks into your ass as you watch him enter the sketchy building, your fears being all but confirmed. 

You spend what feels like an eternity fighting with yourself, deciding whether or not to go home or go drag his ass out of whatever crack den he's found himself in. 

You know you don't technically have a right to do that, you're not his girlfriend or parole officer, but you promised him the last time he almost Voided out that you'll be there to pull him from the fire, no matter what. 

You know that the only thing that's holding you back is the obvious rage Bob will feel towards you when he realises you violated his trust but it's something you're willing to deal with. 

You march with purpose to the end of the alleyway and think back for a second, remembering the coded door knock. 

Shuffling awkwardly you wait with baited breath until the small socket slides across, a pair of eyes give you a once over before the door creaks open. 

You're instantly met with a wall of sound, loud music and a deep bass coming from behind the broad shouldered bouncer.

"You comin' or what?" he asks, clearly annoyed. 

You duck your head and slide past him, confusion hitting you like a truck. 

Walking through a dark hallway, you make your way towards the source of music, the closer you get the more your eyes start to adjust, there's small dim lights on the walls but they do nothing. 

When you reach the end of the corridor the doorway is covered by a heavy black curtain and another attendant is standing by. 

They barely pay you any mind, busy on their phone, as they lift it back for you to walk past. 

In all your years of espionage nothing could have trained you for this. 

You stand there, eyes wide as you take in your surroundings. 

The large room is better lit but still dark; mood lighting. All across the room is people in various forms of nudity and undress. Masses of skin and writhing bodies. The area is a deep red and almost all surfaces are velvet, various toys and lewd art decorate the walls, couches and booths are scattered around the room as well as stools and cushioned benches. A bar sits at the far end against the back wall.

You're no stranger to sex and intimacy but you are way out of your depth here. 

For a brief moment you watch what is happening around you and forget why you came. 

You take note of the bar at the back of the room, male and female waitstaff walking around naked with only black and white collars on their necks, if not for the trays of alcohol in their hands you'd think they were part of the activities.

Although judging by the waitress to the right of you being taken against a table perhaps they do join in on the fun.

The wanton moaning and sounds of completion are starting to get to you, your mouth going dry as your body heats up. You go to leave, this is all too much and you can't focus, but as you turn to go your eyes catch on a figure, a very familiar figure.

This time when you see Bob he's only wearing his jeans, top half completely bare, but that's not what stopped you in your tracks; the woman holding his hand and pulling him along looks like you!

You choke on the saliva that's filled your mouth as your mind short circuits. This woman features are far too similar to yours to be a coincidence. 

Same hair; length and colour, same build; height and weight, and if you had to guess you'd say she may even have the same eye colour.

You watch as he follows along obediently, the small plastic bag swinging by his side and a smile on his face as he's being lead from the room, through more curtained doorways. 

The burning inside you is no longer from arousal and embarrassment, you now feel very jealous. 

Anger and hurt also bubble under the surface. Why would he go out to a club and find someone who looks like you when you look like you?

Okay, that's not a smart argument but he already has you, so he doesn't need her.

"You're overdressed," a deep voice says from beside you; snapping you from your intelligent thoughts.

You turn towards the man but quickly avert your gaze when you realise how very naked and very turned on he his.

He lets out a chuckle at your innocence before talking again. "First time?" His voice is a little louder to cut through the sea of groaning.

"That obvious?" Your laugh is strained and forced but polite none the less. 

"Very," he chuckles, if not for his bare body and this entire situation you wouldn't mind talking to him, he kind of looks like Prince Caspian. "You want a drink?"

"Desperately," you reply without thinking, your eyes now landing on his face, strictly on his face, "but I'm curious as to what goes on behind those curtains." You point to the door Bob went through. 

"Private rooms," he points to he left, "glory hole booths," he grabs two glasses of brown liquid off a passing waiters tray and hands you one, "whiskey," he nods.

Your heart plummets at the information but you're grateful for the drink, though whiskey has never been your favourite it will do in a crisis. 

"Want a closer look?" his suggestive tone is deep and sultry and honestly if you weren't bat shit crazy about the ex meth addict that lived three rooms down from you, you'd probably take him up on his offer. 

"I'll have to take a rain check," you shrug apologetically, but the tall handsome man with seemingly black eyes seems to take no offense with your rejection. 

"Another time," he smiles as he leaves you to it, his attention already quickly being taken away buy a dark haired woman. 

You make your way around the crowd, nervous that if you walk through and get too close someone might grab you and pull you in. 

When you reach the curtain there's no attendant there to usher you through, which you're relieved about. The less people to witness whatever you're doing or about to do the better. 

This hallway is much better lit, there are sconces by each door which is adorned with a metal plate that labels the room. 

On each side of the hallway there are five doors, you're probably about to see a lot of stuff you don't want to but you're desperate. 

You place your ear against the cold wood of the first door on the left, hoping to hear voices or at the very least you hope might be able to pick out Bobs moans. He's got a pretty deep voice so you've always assumed his sounds of pleasure would be just as deep. 

Unfortunately the door is very thick and any sound or voices you hear are muffled and faint. 

You take a breath to prepare yourself before slowly turning the knob, cracking open only enough to see if the occupants are either Bob or the doppelganger - doppelbanger. 

You let out a small miserable chuckle at your stupid word play and a small relieved sigh when you see they aren't in here, that is until you hear the whip come down on the mans ass and thighs, you wince at the crack but the man makes a sound that you once heard on a nature documentary about tigers so you guess he's having a hell of a time. 

Good for him, at least someone is. 

You continue on with your pervy task of violation as you switch to the other door opposite to this one. 

- 

You're not sure how much time has passed but you're down to the last two doors.

You admittedly took a little longer as one of the rooms really intrigued you, a woman on her back with her head handing off the bed as a man quite literally fucked her throat. 

Maybe you were a bit of a voyeur.

Maybe you needed therapy.

But first you needed to find Bob. 

But what are you going to do when you find him? Burst into the room like some perverted knight in shinning armour? It's not like Bob was here against his will. Would you confess that you like him? Is this really the time and place?

The rational thoughts leave your head as quickly as they came when you hear a loud broken moan coming from your left, you let out a pitiful noise (and squeeze your legs together, what is wrong with you?) as part of you already knows that this is Bob's room. 

With practiced ease you crack the door open and hurt your own feelings when you confirm your suspicions. There lies Bob on the bed, red and covered in sweat as the copy of you slides off him and collapses on the side. You notice she's not even fully naked but your focus is not on her.

You're screaming in your own head to turn away, go home and cry into some ice cream - or better yet nachos, but you've already crossed so many boundaries tonight why not a few more?

Bobs eyes are closed, a very fucked and blissed out expression covers his face as he fights to catch his breath, thanks to the large angled mirror at the head of the bed you can see everything. His length, thickness, the veins, how it curves slightly to the left - and to your utter surprise; a stick-and-poke tattoo high on his upper thigh, is that Kermit (?), close to his dick.

Which now is starting to get hard again.

You remember having a rather detailed conversation with Alexei about the refractory periods of Super Soldiers, the conversation was funny until it wasn't. Yelena's obvious discomfort of the topic her father chose was humourous until he started to make it personal and then everyone was uncomfortable.

"You goin' to the booths after this, Robby?" Not You asks as she traces a perfectly manicured finger over his chest, making him tremble slightly. You have tp squeeze your fists to hold back the jealousy.

"Yeah," his breathing is back to normal but his voice is soft and slow, "will you be in there tonight?" he seems so hopeful and that causes your heart to crack open just a little bit more.

"Not tonight," she sounds almost sad, "but there's some good one's in there."

By now Bob is almost completely hard again and he goes to sit up on the side of the bed, Not You follows suit. That's when you notice it. Notice the clothes the Copy is wearing.

She's dressed just like you.

And not just in clothes you own and wear sometimes, no she's wearing almost the exact same thing you're wearing now. 

Same grey shirt with black sleeves and a small butterfly decal, the black jean jacket that has fallen down her arms is the same as yours, hell, even the white velvet scrunchy in her hair is the same. 

What in the Twilight Zone, Invasion of the Body Snatchers is going on here?

A brief glance lower and you realise even her underwear is the same, red lace! How did he know what you're wearing?

Whatever guilt you previously felt over violating Bob is gone because this perv is just as bad as you.

And the thing that should probably repulse or disgust you; is that you don't care. You don't care even a little bit. Bob is so desperate for you he basically replicated you. 

Even though you were right there!

Okay, so the anger is back. 

In your moment of realisation you didn't notice Bob getting to his feet and getting dressed, even the Replicant has changed back to her other outfit, which was easy - nipple pasties and black lacy panties. 

You close the door quietly and start to panic when Bob starts moving to leave. He can't catch you here now!

You hot foot it to the end of the hallway and out through the curtain, if you bravely risk your hygiene and safety by going through the Naked Sea you could probably make it out before Bob exits the hallway. 

But the sight of Yelena standing in front of the exit causes you to stop still and let out a far too loud "what the fuck!"

Thankfully the man jackrabbiting into the woman near you, and her sounds of tortured bliss, drown out your frustrated cry. 

The Jackrabbit man makes awkward eye contact with you - awkward for you, he seems to rather enjoy it. 

Before you can stop yourself you give him a thumbs up and a "nice form!" before turning to the glory hole hallway, not even waiting to hear the reply from the man.

This hallway is almost identical to the last, except there are double the amount of doors and each pair of doors are closer together. There's two signs above the entrance to the hallway; one with a large hole and a lewd drawing of a lower half; legs spread, the other more simple, a smaller hole with a penis coming through it.

You head down to the end of hallway and open the door to the right, the penis hole side.

Weird thing to say. 

Thankfully it's empty, you lock the door behind you and take a seat on the admittedly comfy cushioned stool and wait for this to all blow over. 

You have to admit, the sound proofing in this place is pretty spectacular, the small speakers in the corner playing soft music also adds to the ambiance, it's fairly clean and there's a box of wet wipes and a small bin in the corner. This place is kinda nice. Maybe that's why Yelena was here.

Wait! Why the hell is she here? Who else comes here? Is this a hangout place for the Thunderbolts to decompress? How come you weren't invited?

Unfortunately you weren't meant to find peace because your quiet moment is interrupted by someone entering the stall connected to yours. 

If you hadn't have been in such as rush you might have noticed the small lights next to the door that signified occupancy and that when you locked the door the light went from green to yellow, which meant the person inside was waiting for another. The light is now red, you guess that indicates that the booths are now occupied.

But your earlier gloating about being a good spy was now invalid because you are a terrible spy. 

You hear someone clear their throat on the other end followed by the shuffling of clothes. You go to rush out protests, putting your face dangerously close to the hole but that's when your eyes catch on something.

Hi-ho, Kermit the fucking frog. 

What was he thinking, honestly. 

"Is this o-okay?" his deep unsure voice cuts through the silent tension, Bob completely unaware of the conundrum you're currently facing. 

Whelp, when in Rome. 

You try to drop your voice an octave lower before answering in a whisper, you'd rather be strapped to a car battery again then face the humiliation of Bob finding you here. 

"F'course, sweetheart," you inwardly curse as the pet name you normally call Bob comes out automatically. 

The desperate whimper he lets out shows you that he didn't mind one bit.

"Like it-like it when you call me that," his voice is already wrecked but that could be chalked up to his previous activities.

A sour taste fills your mouth and you silently scold yourself.

This is a once in a lifetime opportunity and you will not ruin this for yourself!

In your brief trance Bob has slipped his hardened cock through the hole, and you let out an audible gasp; not intending for it to be that loud you bite your lip.

"Like that, honey?" he asks, letting his pet name for you easily slip through his lips. 

Or maybe he just calls everyone that, you think bitterly before scolding yourself again.

Stop it!

"It's thick," you hum, "I like that," you move a little closer and Bob lets out a small shutter at your warm breath against his member. You could really have some fun with this. 

"Put it in your mouth, honey," he sounds desperate, pathetic, just like you feel, "suck on it, please."

His cock bobs in front of you, a small bead of pre come gathers at the tip and you find yourself utterly entranced. 

You lean forward and lick over the head, making sure to clean off all the salty liquid before wrapping your hand around the base.

His hips move closer to the wall giving you more to work with, suddenly you hear a slight thud above you followed by a muffled whine, if you had to guess Bob probably dropped his head against the wall in front of him.

A small breathy chuckle falls from your lips onto the underside of his cock, which in turn twitches in your hand. He's so sensitive. 

You slowly lick the vein at the base all the way up to the tip, repeating the action a few more times just to spread some saliva around. 

"Pl-please," you like when he begs, "I want more," he whines again. 

"Be a good boy for me, sweetheart" you whisper, you think he didn't hear you but judging by the small curse from the other side you know he did. You remember Bucky saying how the Serum enhances the senses. All the senses.

"I'll be good," he swears, "I'll be so good, I p-promise, honey."

You clench your thighs together, the deep vibration mixed with the desperation in his voice getting to you. 

You lean forward and take the head of his cock in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and adding a tight suction before taking more of him in. 

"Fuck!" he slams a fist down on the wall as you continue to suck him down, inch by inch, only stopping when he hits the back of your throat.

You hold him there for a minute, savouring the feeling of him, taking joy in the fact you're finally living out one of your fantasies. 

Unfortunately you never mastered the whole gag reflex thing and the burning in your eyes and throat is becoming too much, you pull off of Bob with a loud gag followed by a whine before going to apologise, Bob doesn't let you.

"Fuck, honey, do that again," his voice comes out rushed, "please choke on my cock again."

This isn't your first blow job but a quick suck and fuck with a few men who weren't even close to the size of Bob really makes a difference.

You gracelessly wipe your eyes and nose before spitting on your hand and giving him a few strokes, base to tip, he slightly stutters forward with a groan. 

You get higher on your knees and kiss the head of his cock twice before swallowing it down, making sure to cover your teeth the deeper you take him. 

Before you can make it all the way down Bob lets out a broken whimper as he thrusts forward, his cock hitting the back of your throat hard making you gag, you pull back to collect yourself as you hear Bob rush out apologies. 

You don't really hear him as you watch a thick string of saliva that's connected from your mouth to his cock, you watch mesmerised as it starts to sag down, before it breaks you lean forward and wrap your mouth around him again.

The words die on his lips and is replaced by a drawn out moan, deep and warm, one that you could find yourself getting used to hearing.

You don't shy away from the uncomfortable feeling of him at the back of your throat, instead you lean into the burn, with each and every gag Bob lets out a small sound of pleasure or a curse, every time you swallow around him; savouring every drop of pre cum that dribbles out of his cock as he hits the wall with his hand. 

He has his thrusting pretty much under control but each time one rough snap of his hips sneaks through, thankfully it's not hard enough to bring you to a stop, though you have tears streaming down your cheeks and your mouth and chin are covered in a mixture of drool and pre come. 

You're suddenly reminded of the woman on the bed getting her face fucked, how she barely choked.

You try to remember hushed conversations whispered between friends in the middle of the night at high school sleepovers; if you relax the throat and breath through your nose it's much easier. 

You tighten the fist that's still wrapped around the base of Bob's cock, too long to fit entirely in your mouth, and you rub your thumb on the underside, gently over his vein. A move you'd normally do when holding his hand while watching a move. 

"Oh, fuck," his voice is raw and full of pleasure, "I'm c-close," you think you can hear scratching against the wall, "honey, I'm so close."

You relax your throat as much as you can while trying to breath through your nose, allowing yourself to feel pleasure, you reach down and unbutton your jeans. 

"Yes, fuck-touch yourself," Bob whimpers, his sensitive hearing picking up on an almost soundless action, "come with me, honey."

You push past the waistline of your underwear and groan at how wet you are, the vibration sends a thrill through Bob's cock and he lets out a debauched moan at the feeling. 

Wasting no time you use two fingers to gather your slick before rubbing it over your sensitive clit, your whole body is wracked with a shiver at the feeling. 

You get to work catching up on your orgasm, honestly you're not that far behind, you truly believe that you would have been able to come from the feeling of Bob's cock and rubbing your thighs together alone. 

You match your fingers with the pace of your mouth, flicking your bundle of nerves when ever you flick your tongue over his tip.

"Switch, fuck, switch hands, honey," Bob pleads and you slow down just a fraction making him whine. "Want your slick on my cock," he begs.

A noise falls from your mouth that you never thought you could make, a moan mixed with a whimper, muffled by Bob's cock, you quickly follow his instructions and switch hands, but before you do you scoop up some of your wetness between your fingers. 

As you make the switch your eyes widen at the sticky mess coating your digits, you are far more gone then you thought. 

Bob cries out when he feels the warm wet heat of your other hand, he ruts against the hole uncaring of the protesting whines you let out. 

He babbles out apologies but makes no move of stopping. "Sorry, h-honey, can't stop," he's breathless and wrecked, "s'your fault, you did this," he blames, he sounds too far gone like he doesn't even know he's talking. "Drive me wild, love your sweet mouth, wanna feel your pussy."

You pull back with a moan, unable to keep up with his new punishing pace. You can already feel the the back of your throat bruising.

"Wanted this for so long, imagine it all the time." Your breath catches at his confession although you're not sure what he's confessing to exactly. "Get so hard in bed next t'you, honey, wanna come on your sleeping body, fuck! Wanna wake you up with my cock!"

The hand that was rubbing your clit stills as you listen to Bob, now terrified, but still very much aroused, that he's figured out it's you. You make the decision to go down with the ship, you might as well enjoy it in case you never get to do it again when Bob gets a clear head.

"Yeah, sweetheart?" you pull back and spit the saliva that's pooled in your mouth onto his cock, "desperate for me?" You ask before taking him back into your mouth, you resume the movement on your clit, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge.

"Ye-fuck, yes, honey," he slams in deeper again, hips stuttering as he's reaching his end, "wanna wake you with my cock buried inside you, wanna live inside you," he lets a choked moan slip out, "please, wanna come."

The depraved confession followed by the desperate plea sends you careening over the edge, your broken cry is muffled on Bob's cock and the vibration of your wrecked sobs paired with the grazing of your teeth on his sensitive skin is sending him right behind you. 

Loud groans fall from his lips, followed by a name that is unmistakably yours, as he paints your throat with his come. "Swallow it all," he begs breathlessly, "keep me inside of you, always."

You hollow out your cheeks as you milk him dry, making sure not to waste even a single drop, your fingers are still lazily stroking over your sensitive bud as you slowly come down from the high. 

Bob lets out another whine as you pull of his softening cock, the air still thick with tension, but this time it's a different sort of tension.

He pulls himself through the hole and you wait, like a coward, for him to talk first. Like a never ending torture he drags this out, zipping himself up and making himself more presentable. 

Finally, finally, he says something, "I'm sorry."

You're so caught off guard you make a small noise of confusion. That's not what you were expecting.

"I didn't mean to say those things," he says, his voice sounds a little guilty, "or call you by that name," he takes a heavy breath, "it's just someone I have a crush on." His small humourless chuckle makes you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

He doesn't know it's you!

Are you happy or disappointed? 

A bit of both, really.

"S'okay," you whisper, deciding to keep up the lie, at least for now, "I liked it."

His laugh now is breathy and a bit lighter, "good," there's a bit of movement on his side before you hear the opening of his door, "thank you."

Before you can answer he's gone. You sit back on your legs and take a second to wait for him to leave, you grab some wipes to clean yourself up as you try to wrap your head around what just happened. 

You sucked Bob's dick.

You sucked Bob's dick and he has no idea. 

Bob has a Kermit the frog tattoo. 

You're going to have so much fun with this.

As all these very important thoughts run through your head you're suddenly snapped back to reality when the door opens and closes again, part of you is excited, hoping it's Bob but when a heavy, gruff and familiar Russian accent fills the room you let out an undignified yelp and scramble to leave.

Does everyone come to this fucking club?!

- 

On the walk back to the tower Bob lets out a small smirk, his senses filled with your scent, a smell that's undeniably you. He couldn't believe his luck when he saw you peaking on him in the private room at the club, he's cock hardening as he felt your hot gaze on his body.

He's going to have so much fun with this.

You came home from the club in a rush, thankful that you didn’t run into Bob on your way back to your room. You did however run into a very irate Walker, who was still annoyed about the whole elevator situation.

When you finally got back to your room, from being berated by a giant man baby, you stripped off your clothes as you made your way towards your shower; hoping to wash away some of the guilt… and the arousal.

You know it’s wrong, Bob technically didn’t consent to this but he also crossed the line with you, so in your messed up mind you feel like you’re even.

Throwing yourself onto your left side you let out an exhausted huff, you’re beyond tired and you can feel the pulls of sleep dragging you down but you just can’t settle. While you’re mentally counting sheep you miss the click of your door opening and gently closing before quiet footsteps make their way over to you.

It’s not until your covers are lifted and someone slides into the bed behind you that you realise you’re no longer alone.

You really are a bad spy.

“… Bob?” Your voice is quiet and unsure, you know it’s Bob because no one else sleeps with you.

“Couldn’t sleep,” is his only reply as he throw his arm around your waist and burrows in behind you.

Your whole body goes tense and you hold your breath as Bob gets comfy, completely unaware of your inner conflict.

This is normal. Bob sleeps with you more often than not. But only just a few short hours ago you had his dick in your mouth as he made a very shocking admission.

“get so hard in bed next t’you, honey, wanna come on your sleeping body, fuck.”

While you’re currently torturing yourself you miss the way Bob squeezes your hip, and you don’t feel the small smile pressed into the back of your neck.

He can smell your conflict. And he’s loving every minute of it.

The small whine that crawls from the back of Bob’s throat pulls you back into the present, although the noise automatically causes you to squeeze your thighs together.

“Why’re you so stiff,” he complains, voice soft and innocent, “can’t get comfy.”

You put all your years of training to force your muscles to relax, and apparently it works because Bob lets out a content sigh as he somehow gets even closer.

“That’s better,” his voice is slightly muffled from where it’s buried in your hair, “g’night honey.”

The pet name that used to make butterflies swarm in your stomach now has a different effect on your body. You clench your eyes shut and hope the sharp intake of breath wasn’t heard by the enhanced man behind you.

Wishful thinking.

As awkward as this is for you mentally your body is so used to his that his presence now has a calming effect and you end up falling asleep in almost an instant.

Like Pavlov’s dog. Pavlov’s Bob.

—

The bright morning light shining directly into your eyes is what wakes you up the next day, you swear you could kill Val for putting the shutters on a timer.

What sane person wakes up before 8am?

You instantly notice the absence of a warm body behind you and when you reach back to feel the bed you let out a small disappointed sigh at the coolness of the sheets.

Instead of laying in bed and letting your mind take you to dark and enticing places you decided to get up and face the day. Put last night behind you — at least for a little while.

Okay, shower then breakfast.

Forty minutes later you’re standing in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil, hair damp from the shower and skin still a little red and puffy.

You admit you took a longer shower than normal but the memory of Bob pressed against you, paired with the sounds he made, caused you to spend a majority of the time with your hand between your legs.

Your head pressed against the cool tile as the hot spray of the water covered your back, the water and slick wetness of your own arousal made it easier for you to push two fingers inside; no time for foreplay.

You thumb your clit as you think back to last night, Bob’s whines as he lost control and thrust his cock to the back of your throat, his breathless words as he admitted how much he wanted you, not the mysterious person he thought was on the other side of the booth, not the replicant; you.

It took embarrassing little to bring you to completion, allowing yourself to moan a bit louder with the cover of the shower, the walls of the tower were thick but with Super Soldiers everywhere you’d rather not risk it.

You bring your spare hand down from its previous position; holding you up against the wall, and start to rub your clit, your thumb no longer enough.

You scissors your fingers and buck your hips as you imagine what Bob’s face would’ve looked like when he came; red with his hair plastered on his face from the sweat. Eyes squeezed closed as he allowed himself to let go, his come painting your throat, your name slipping from his lips like a prayer.

That image alone makes you cry out as your back arches, cheek pressed to the tile, now warm from your heavy breathing. You clench around your fingers as you feel the wetness start to drip down your hand.

With a few more indulging grinds of your hips to help come down from the high as you catch your breath, you take a minute to collect yourself.

If your eyes weren’t squeezed shut and you couldn’t hear the blood pumping in your ears you probably would have noticed the dark shadowed figure watching from your doorway, but by the time you come to it’s just you alone… alone with your pervy thoughts.

You scrub the palm of your hands down your face, begging your mind to give you at least an hour of Bob free thoughts but while your brain might comply the universe is a dick.

With practised ease Bob comes up behind you, slightly clearing is throat as not to startle. Didn’t work though.

“Jesus Christ!” You gasp as you turn to face the tall man.

“Robert Reynolds, actually,” he chuckles making you try and fail to not roll your eyes, “why are you so jumpy this morning?”

“I’m not,” your response is too quick and Bob must agree as he raises an eyebrow followed by a soft ‘uh-huh’.

Thankfully the kettle coming to a boil behind you breaks the weird, possibly one-sided, tension. You turn on the spot and get about to making your cup of tea, maybe that will calm you down. Coffee may kill you while you’re in this pent up state.

With your back to him you miss the way he’s usually soft smile turns into something cheekier, a slight golden shine to his eyes.

Without a word Bob presses his back to yours, his left hand taking up residence on your hip as he leans up to open the cupboard above you.

“What’re you doing?” your voice comes out slightly higher then normal and you bite your lip to cover any unwanted noises that threaten to slip out.

“You’re in the way,” he says it with a slight laugh to his voice, completely casual and nonchalant, like reaching above you is the obvious thing to do, you know, instead of waiting until you were done or ask you to move.

“You could’ve waited,” you complain but there’s no real bite in your tone.

“Yeah, I could’ve,” he agrees, the deep of his voice vibrating your back and causing you to shiver lightly. 

Just as he grabs a bowl he moves his left hand slightly, fingers now coming underneath your tank top to graze the skin of your hip.

You let out a small gasp but before you have time to say or do something he steps away entirely, with his bowl in hand.

“See? That wasn’t so bad,” he turns his back to you as he walks over to the pantry, smile evident on his face.

You really wanna throw hands with the guy.

Or kiss him.

Maybe both.

As you contemplate whether or not you should take your tea and head out Bob makes the decision for you.

“You gonna sit or just linger,” he sits on his regular kitchen bar stool and mixes the cereal with the milk using the back of his spoon. 

You bite back a sarcastic reply but take a stool and few down from his, instead of your usual spot next to him, he sends you a confused glance but doesn’t comment.

The room is filled with an unsavoury silence, completely out of the norm for the both of you. It’s uncomfortable and painful and you’re filled with a sudden regret for what happened last night.

Is this gonna ruin your friendship with Bob?

As if Bob can read your thoughts, and who knows maybe he can, he fills the empty silence with a topic of conversation.

“So, what did you get up to last night?”

Okay, so you miss the silence.

“What?” You cough around the rim of your cup, tea splashing out on to the counter.

Real smooth, dickhead.

“I asked what you got up to last night?” he repeats slowly, watching closely as you wipe away the drops of liquid with someone’s shirt that was left of the counter, refusing to make eye contact. 

You hope it’s John’s shirt after the little scolding he gave you last night.

“Oh, just the usual,” you hesitate to add more, that’s how lies fall apart, you make them too detailed. Stay basic.

“Really?” Bobs reply causes the hair to stand up on the back of your neck, does he know?

“Yeah,” you double down, “just hung around the tower,” you try to shrug casually without making eye contact.

How did you ever make it this far in espionage?

“Yelena said you went out,” he adds as he spoons a large portion of cereal into his mouth.

You mentally curse Yelena, the little snitch, but are quick to answer.

“I go out sometimes,” you take a small sip of your drink, “that’s normal.”

“Where’d you go?” he continues to causally interrogate.

“Who are you, my parole officer?” You lightly snap making Bob laugh.

“Just interested in you,” his smile is sweet and disarming and you feel horrible.

But there’s no way in hell you’re telling the truth. You couldn’t water board that information out of you.

The look Bob gives you is intense, filled with meaning and emotion and honestly it’s far too much.

“Whelp, I’m done,” you announce, voice too loud.

“You haven’t finished your tea,” he nods to your cup, still half full. Smile evident on his smug face. 

He’s infuriatingly calm, not concerned by your nervous actions and if you weren’t so in your own head you would’ve been suspicious.

“I just remembered I hate tea,” you quickly emptied the cup into the sink, filling it quickly with tap water to soak, before turning on your heel to leave, “bye!”

You don’t look back or wait for a reply as you power walk to your room to grab some training gear, a workout should help distract you for a while.

Bob watches as you disappear from view, a large secretive smile adorning his face, eyes shining bright. He’s loving this.

—

A few hours later you make your way to the bar area, couches on one side of the room and a newly remodeled bar on the other. Courtesy of the Sentry fucking shit up.

Although you really wish you could change how this place looks. It’s so depressing. Drab and cool colours.

First thing you’d do is replace the floor with hardwood panels, colour the walls a nice warm maroon, put a few rugs and lamps.

Maybe since you’re coming to the realisation with how shit you are at your job you could change to an interior decorator.

You’d probably make more money.

Lost in the thoughts of various paint swatches you didn’t even noticed the Bob shaped pile on the recliner near the window.

But he noticed you, even before you entered. Hell, he could smell the scent of your sweat as soon as you got off the elevator.

He clears his throat, partially to get your attention and partially to regain some composer of his slowly forming predicament.

This time you’re not caught off guard by his presence, this is his normal hiding place after all.

“A little early to be drinking,” he jokes as he watches you make a colourful fruit cocktail.

“I earned this,” you search for the tiny umbrellas under the counter and let out a small sound of victory when you find them, “I beat Yelena in our sparring match,” you boast putting a straw next to the umbrella.

Bob’s smile is warm and proud as you make your way over to his nook, for a second you’ve completely forgotten about the previous days events and you feel yourself being pulled back into your usual selves.

“That’s great!” he taps the arm of his chair for you to sit, “it’s about time someone took her down a peg,” his laugh is fond and playful.

“With Yelena down, Walker and Bucky are next,” you laugh as you get comfortable, you catch Bob eyeing your cocktail so you offer him the straw.

“A big step,” he smiles as he takes a sip of your drink, letting out a pleased sound at the taste, “getting a bit cocky are we?”

You laugh to cover up the small groan crawling up from the back of your throat. Watching Bob do something as simple as take a drink from your cup is enough to revert you back to a needy pervert.

The way his throat moves as he swallows, his eyes remain in contact with yours as he goes for another sip, his tongue coming out to clean his lips of any liquid that could’ve spilled out has you clenching your thighs again.

How does he keep doing that?

Get a grip!

You bring the straw to your lips and try to ignore the taste of Bob as you force your gaze away from his and out the window. Hoping for something, anything to distract you from the tension that’s starting to return.

Come on alien invasion.

After a few beats of silence you decide to engage in conversation, maybe something small until you can find a way to leave.

“What’cha reading?” You look away from the top of the building across the street and back down to Bob who goes to turn the cover to show you.

“Yelena gave it to me to read,” he tells you, “she got it from Kate.”

“50 Shades,” you stare in disbelief, “really?”

“Apparently I read too many non fiction self help books and I need to branch out,” he laughs, “it’s not the worst I’ve ever read.”

“I’ve never read it,” you admit, “but the reviews from the movie was enough for me.”

“The BDSM etiquette is completely wrong but it’s not bad,” he’s not looking at you when his says that which you’re entirely too grateful for, “I can read it to you if you like?”

His offer is sweet, a little too sweet.

“No, no,” you rush as you stand, “that’s okay, Bob, really.”

“Why not?” you take note of the playful lilt in his voice, “you usually like when I read to you,” he watches as you straighten your back, “you said you like my voice.”

And he’s right, you did say that. And you do like when he reads to you. But maybe not porn.

Okay, you’d probably love for him to read porn to you. But not when you’re friends. Just Friends. Platonic Pals.

“Maybe another time,” you call to him, already making your way out the door, cocktail half empty now left next to Bob.

Bob lets out a chuckle as he finds the page he was on, grabbing your forgotten drink and lazily sipping down the sweet liquid.

—

You begrudgingly make your way to the common room for movie night.

Although if you spend almost every night watching movies it’s not really ‘Movie Night’. Just a regular Wednesday.

You were set with sitting on your bed and watching Bob’s Burgers reruns but Ava warping though your door, scaring the shit out of you and ushering you out the room really but a wrench in those plans.

There’s no point in arguing, you’re dealing with enhanced, trained beings who have the emotional range of sleep deprived toddlers so unless you want to watch a large Russian sized man have a large Russian sized tantrum you march your way to the room connected to the kitchen.

You stop to make popcorn as Ava walks past and finds her usual spot next to Yelena.

When you come back with two bowls you stop to take in the room, Yelena and Ava are on the two seater couch on the left wall with John sitting on the floor in front of them, Alexei and Bucky are on the recliners to the right and there’s Bob, sweet innocent Bob, with his usual blanket in his regular spot waiting patiently for you to take up residence next to him.

Although right now you’re thinking about jumping out the window.

That thought is quickly forgotten when you're hit in the side of the head with a cushion.

“Give me the damn popcorn,” Johns gruff voice makes you narrow your eyes as you walk over to him. Contemplating dropping the contents of the bowl in his lap.

“Where are your manners,” you scold as you hold out the bowl.

“I asked politely three times but you were off with the fairies,” he snatches the bowl out of your hands before Ava snatches the bowl from him, “hey!”

You turn to face Bob, his eyes already on you as he watches with a small grin, you fumble slightly as you make your way next to him.

He pulls back the blanket and drapes it dutifully over your legs when you sit down, an action he has done every time you watch a movie together. But this time the action feels heavier.

“What are we watching?” Bucky asks as he leans over and grabs the popcorn out of your hand.

“Rude,” you mumble quietly but Bobs snort of laughter shows he heard you.

He moves closer to your side, legs and arms now touching and you bite your cheek to remain relaxed. Fighting every urge in your body to not tense up.

“Overboard,” Ava answers, voiced muffled from the handful of popcorn she shoved into her mouth.

My god, she's beautiful.

“God, why,” John complains. Never happy unless there’s a car chase or an explosion.

“Because it’s funny,” Ava flicks his ear, John reaches back to swat her hand away but misses, “also Yelena’s never seen it.”

“It’s sends a completely inappropriate message,” John argues.

“It was made it the 80’s,” Ava counters, “things were different back then.”

The argument continues back and forth for a good few minutes before Yelena smacks Walker in the face with the cushion. Hah payback. 

Bucky hands the popcorn back to you as the lights go out and the movie starts, you’re grateful to have something to do with your hands.

A few minutes in and Yelena’s makes a comment about how the main male lead looks like John a bit, a comparison he denies.

“Grow and mullet and we’ll see for ourselves,” Ava laughs as John grumbles.

“No, he looks more like Goldie Hawn,” you chuckle, receiving a half hearted glare from the Soldier.

“It’s the eyes,” Yelena agrees.

“And the hair,” Ava adds.

“Lots of people have blonde hair,” John snaps, “hell, even Bobby had blonde hair at one point.”

“Oh god, please don’t remind me,” he slides back into the couch a little, cheeks heating in embarrassment as a few snickers fill the room.

You feel a small weight come off your shoulders and for a minute it all feels normal, the banter, the teasing. Everything.

The room goes quiet again, small comments and laughter here and there, but it’s peaceful.

That is until the main leads kiss, you know where this is going.

The blanket has fallen down your legs from when you put the popcorn aside on the coffee table earlier, your hand mindlessly playing with the pant leg of your sleep shorts.

Bob once again pulls the blanket up, fully covering your lower halves, the action is so normal you don’t really think much of it.

Not until you feel his pinkie grazing yours, it’s not unusual for you to link pinkies when sitting together, Bob’s love language is touch and he feels like he can never get enough of it, but this feels much more heavy then normal.

He tangles his pinkie with yours all the while keeping his eyes on the movie. If not for his throat bobbing as he swallows or the slight movement of his hips you’d think this was normal.

As the scene heats up he flips your hand with his and slots them together, now fully holding your hand. His grip isn’t too tight but it’s not loose either.

You’re honestly surprised by Bob’s reaction, the sex scene wouldn’t even be categorised as soft core but you suddenly remember last night and how desperate he becomes when aroused.

Interesting.

As the movie plays out in front of you, you start to rub your thumb over the back of Bobs hand in a soft, calming, nonchalant manner. Something you’ve done dozens of times.

And something you did last night to his cock.

He lets out a small groan at your touch, and if you weren’t zeroed in on Bob you probably would’ve thought it came from the movie.

You look around with your eyes, head still straight forward trained towards the tv set; apart from John and Ava’s hushed bickering everyone is engrossed in the movie.

After a few minutes your attention is back on the screen, having temporarily forgotten about Bob’s action. But as he squirms again you can’t ignore how he slowly moves his other hand under the blanket.

You suck in a breath as you watch from the corner of your eyes the way the needy man beside you snaps his eyes shut and presses his palm against his crotch. You assume anyway, as the blanket is hiding your view.

Stupid fucking blanket.

The veins in Bobs arms pop out a little as he ever so slightly grinds his hips forward. If anyone happened to look over it would just seem like he’s getting comfortable.

In a way he is.

He bites his lip, his cheeks now a deep shade of crimson, as he tries to repeat the act.

His hand in yours is now slightly clammy, the grip starting to get a little tight but you’re so turned on you feel like you’re going to explode.

You squeeze your thighs together and almost immediately regret it, you’re so wet and sensitive that that movement alone almost sent you over the edge.

You close your eyes to try and regain some control, making you to miss the way Bobs nostrils flare as he turns slightly to look down towards your covered legs, eyes flickering gold in a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment.

He snaps his head forward and lets out a small growl, the action making you open your eyes, surprising yourself when you realise you’re out of breath.

Bob’s hips are no longer moving but you can see his arm dropping down rhythmically. His hands move lazily underneath the blanket, no longer in a desperate rush. He seems content on slow strokes but the bruising grip he still has on your hand might mean otherwise.

The last part of the movie is uneventful, Bob still lazily drags his hand over himself but it happens so infrequently that it could be misinterpreted as adjusting himself or getting comfy.

His face is no longer red, and his breathing is no longer laboured; apart from the strain in his neck and his tight grip of your hand he seems completely normal.

You on the other hand are losing your freaking mind.

Your empty hand lays on the couch cushion beside your thigh, twitching and scratching at your skin, a small irritating pain to help distract you from the infuriating man sitting next to you.

You’re tapping your feet quietly against the floor, counting down the seconds until you can escape back to your room and take care of yourself. But this movies seems like it’s never gonna end.

You make the mistake of sitting up straighter, the action causing you to let slip a whimper as your thighs squeeze together, bringing pressure to your neglected clit.

You miss the way Bobs jaw clenches or how he squeezes down on himself.

You let out a small shudder at how damp your underwear is, you honestly wouldn’t be surprised if the cushion is soaked from your arousal.

Thankfully not five minutes later the credits are rolling and you spring up, wrenching your hand from Bob’s grasp; which was surprisingly difficult, and rushing out a couple ‘goodnights’ while feigning a yawn before practically running back to your room.

No one seems to notice or care about your hasty exit.

No one except Bob.

The first thing you do when you step into your room is take off your shorts and underwear, chucking them haphazardly on the floor as you grab a fresh pair. You slip up the soft cotton, deciding to forgo the pants entirely as you slip into bed.

You reach over to your night stand and pull out your pink rabbit vibrator, flicking off the lamp and plunging yourself into darkness as you hurriedly push aside the material covering your pussy and rub the tip of the cool silicone through your sopping folds.

You decided against teasing yourself, already having had enough of that already.

No matter how wet you are there’s still a slight burn as you push the toy in deeper, letting out a small whine when you reach the base and the rabbit ears rest snug against your sensitive clit.

Just as you go to turn on the vibration you hear movement at your door, you panic and go stock still as you hear the door opening and the familiar sounds of Bob entering.

You could honestly just die right now.

You watch as the Shadow Of Bob moves closer to your bed, all the while you’re screaming in your head.

What do you do now? Your pussy is full and you’re on the verge of coming.

You turn on your side away from Bob, burying your head into your pillow, biting down the whimpers and the toy moves softly against your insides.

Bob takes up his usual place snuggly behind you, his erection gone. Lucky fucking bastard.

“G’night, honey,” his voice is almost as rough as his hands tight grip on your hips.

You let out a soft ‘sleepy’ groan, not trusting your voice at the moment. You try hard to ignore the fact that you’re not wearing pants. But Bob seems happy with your response as his fingers start rubbing soothing circles on your tummy.

Here comes Pavlov’s Bob again.

You don’t fall asleep completely, far too aroused and uncomfortable for that, you’re drowsy and you black out a few times but every movement Bob makes shocks you back to full consciousness. He’s usually not this fidgety, if you knew any better you’d think he was doing this on purpose.

Finally towards 3am Bob rolls away from you, you inwardly let out a sigh of relief as you feel like you can breathe, if Bob stays over his side maybe you can take out the toy.

You give it a few minutes to make sure he’s fully asleep before laying on your back, a little whine slips out involuntarily as you get into a comfy position and the toy presses deep inside you.

But before you can move to make the extraction a noise catches your attention.

Bob’s facing away from you but judging by how relaxed his shoulders are you believe he’s still asleep.

You wait with bated breath to see if he’ll make another noise, eyes focused on his form, slightly illuminated by the glow of the moon.

You’re a little disappointed when he remains still and silent, the horny pervert in you wishing for more, especially when you’re this pent up but you know rationally you shouldn’t be acting like this.

Once again you settle back against your pillows and start to remove the toy, when you have the silicone half way out a sudden movement from your side startles you, making you push the toy back in a bit.

You bite your lip until you swear you taste blood, trying hard to not let out a desperate cry.

You breathlessly turn to Bob as you watch him slowly start to move his hips as small whimpers tumble out of his mouth.

You take a chance to see if he’s awake, wanting to put an end to this torture, “Bob?”

You wait a few seconds before gently calling his name again but it seems he’s deep in sleep.

You know Bob can be a heavy sleeper, one time he slept in the nook and not even a helicopter flying past stirred him.

That’s why you make the risky decision to throw caution to the wind.

You keep watching Bob, noting how the muscles in this back become more apparent through his shirt when he thrusts forward.

You clench your thighs together and softly sigh at the pleasurable feeling, a small pulse of need overcomes you as you reach down and pull the blanket slowly lower off Bob, groaning at the sight of his hairy thighs, thick with muscles.

Fuck, you wanna ride his thighs.

A second passes before you notice the lump of something between his legs, on closer inspection you realise it’s one of your pillows.

And not just one from your pile, this one is yours, the one you sleep on every night.

When Bob came in you shifted over in bed so he ended up with your pillow.

Fuck, the way his hips slightly stutter against the plush material has you biting back a moan. You can’t be mad at Bob, your sweet Bob is just desperate.

His grunts and whines start to get a bit louder now, completely under the fog of unconsciousness he has little control over his actions, something dark in you likes that idea.

Likes that his body would respond to you even when his mind is quiet.

You move your hand to the base of the toy and start to pull it out again, when just the tip remains snug against your walls you push forward and arch your back, bringing the corner of your pillow to your mouth to bite down on.

You’re already close to finishing, with a few more rolls of your hips you’ll finally be able to find release and get some sleep.

You bring your other hand down and rub vigorously on your clit, eyes rolling back every time the bunny ears bump against your bundle, you try to keep the movement of your hips to a minimum, doing your best to match your pace with Bobs thrusts.

The wet sounds of the toy plunging into your sopping heat paired with Bobs moans growing louder have you on the brink.

Bob suddenly lets out a wrecked cry followed by a noise that sounded a little like your name, that drives you over the edge.

You arch your back and bite down on the pillow hard but it does very little to muffle your sounds, you push the toy in as deep as it can go and clamp your thighs shut to add pleasure, white sparks behind your eyes as you feel the wetness trailing down from your pussy, the blood is rushing in your ears and you struggle to find your breath as you come down from your high.

You swear you may have passed out for a second. You let out a few gasps of pleasure as your breathing starts to regulate. Looking over to Bob you’re relieved to see he hasn’t moved from his previous position, he looks a little more slumped into the mattress but that’s it.

The urge to touch him is overwhelming but that post orgasm clarity is coming back to you and you now feel embarrassed and ashamed. You bite back pained whimpers, a little oversensitive, as you remove the toy; ignoring the pangs of arousal that shoot to your lower stomach at the feeling and the sounds of how wet you are.

You sit up as softly and as quietly as you can as you put the toy on the ground, under your bed and make your way to the bathroom to clean up,

As you close the door you don’t notice the dark figure now sitting up where Bob was laying, eyes shining bright and watching your every movement until you’re out of sight.

He lets out a small chuckle as he reaches over to something on the ground, silently bringing it to his nose to take a whiff; the panties you were wearing during the movie. He uses the soft material to clean off his come, not really wanting to sleep in his sticky mess.

He can’t wait for what tomorrow will bring.

But before he deposits them he takes a strong whiff of the material, groaning at your scent as he feels his cock starting to grow hard in his jeans. He presses down on the growing bulge before getting back to what he was previously doing; grabbing his clothes and heading to your room. 

As much as he wants for you to come back and catch him in your shower, again , he decides to make it quick this time. Plenty of time to fool around later. 

When you enter your room it's with a warm blissed expression; you're practically glowing, and Bob feels a sense of pride knowing that it was him who done that.

It takes you a second to realise he's sitting on your bed, back against the headboard with his knees to his chest watching you intensely with a small smile.

You slightly jump and let out an adorable squeak, a deep crimson covering your face as Bob clears his throat. He was tossing up whether or not to let you go about your business unaware of him but he loves to see you squirm. 

"Bob!" Your voice is loud and unsure, eyes not able to make contact as you try to scold him. "What are you doing here?"

He can't help how amused he sounds when he responds, "why wouldn't I be here?"

You stare at him in disbelief before averting your gaze once again. "Because it's my room?" You emphasise, "yours is down the hall."

He does his best to pretend like he doesn't notice your uncomfortable squirming, the scent of both of you slowly starting to dribble down your thighs. Thankfully he's wearing his comfy sweats and they hide his erection pretty good. 

"You've never complained before," he pouts and puts on his best sad voice. "I c-can go."

In an instant he sees your stance falter as you look to him slightly apologetically. Works like a charm.

He does feel a little bad manipulating you but you didn't have to make it so easy. And besides, he knows what's best for you, even if you don't. 

"I'm," you take a breath before continuing, "I'm sorry, sweetheart." 

He perks up in his spot, smile gracing his face, you let out a small smile of your own while watching him. 

"You can stay," you speak softy, moving over to your drawers. "But I'm going to have a shower."

"Don't be too long," he grins as you huff out a small laugh. 

While you're in the shower, Bob lies back against the pillow; getting comfy under the blankets, making sure to give you the pillow he was grinding against last night, the one he made sure to smear his pre come on. A sigh leaves his lips as he gets comfortable before slipping his hand under the covers and palming his prominent bulge. 

He bites back a groan as he presses more firmly against his cock, thumbing over the head as he feels the wet patch staining his sweats. As much as he wants to come he decides to wait for you to return. He has something special planned. 

Thankfully he doesn't have to wait long before you're stepping out of the shower, skin still red and slightly damp. The urge to lick the remaining droplets of water sliding down your face is overwhelming but he's surprisingly able to hold himself back. For now.

"Feel better?" His question is full of innocence but he relishes in the way you swallow around nothing, looking a little nervous as your eyes look anywhere but at him. 

"Yep," you nod and slide into bed beside him, but far too close to the edge. 

He lets out a small whine and a deep frown, not hiding his displeasure. This wont do at all. 

"C'mere," He turns to his side and reaches over to grab your arm, you let out a weak protest but he is far too strong for you to fight against. 

He manhandles you until your back is pressed against his chest, barely any space left between you. He knows, judging by your small gasp, you can feel his hard cock digging into your hip but he pays it no mind as he wraps his arm around your stomach, hand coming under the material of your shirt to rest on your soft skin, grip tight so you can’t move away.

"Bob-" your alarmed and confused voice starts to protest but he cuts you off with a soft hush. 

"Shh," he presses a gently kiss to the back of your head, "jus' go to sleep."

Thanks to his enhanced senses he can hear your heart going a mile a minute, can practically feel the gears turning in your head trying to think and overthink everything that is currently happening. But he can also smell you. Smell the instant you started dripping into your panties. 

"I said go to sleep, honey," his voice is sleepy but there is a tone behind it that has you forcing your body to relax, within a minute you’re soft and pliant in his hold, a pleased groan vibrating from his chest against your back. "Good girl."

The praise is whispered against your hair, quiet and barely there but you hear. 

30 minutes pass and he is pleased with how quickly you fell asleep, your body always responds so well to him. Almost like he's been training it.

With practised ease he slowly retracts his hand from your stomach, enjoying the small sounds you let out in your sleep. He places his hand on your hip, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles, taking his time to make sure you don’t wake up.

He’s noticed that when you sleep beside him you often sleep a lot heavier, not needing to be so on guard all the time. A warm feeling of adoration and something else, fills his chest, thrilled knowing that you feel safe with him. As you should. He’ll always protect you.

He slowly presses his hips forward, biting back a groan at the delicious pressure of your body against his cock, hard and leaking in his sweats.

He sits up on his elbow and as gently as he can grips the waistband of your shorts before slowly starting to ease them down your legs.

Once again he has to manhandle your pliant body; much easier to do when you’re unconscious, being careful not to jostle you too much. He doesn’t need you to wake up right now and spoil the fun.

Once your shorts are by the foot of the bed he leans down and places a soft kiss to your exposed shoulder, he rests his lips against your skin and closes his eyes as he takes in a deep breath, letting the smell of your body wash ground him.

Your body moving against his and rubbing against his cock snaps him out of his trance, a small whine tumbling from his mouth.

“Tease,” he mumbles as he lays back down behind you, bringing his hand to hold firmly against your stomach.

With slow cautious movements he begins to grind his hips forward, pressing his cock against the back of your thighs.

He thrusts his hips a few more times, allowing himself to get lost in the pleasure, before he slides his hand down your stomach; fingers briefly running across the waistband of your panties before dipping them inside.

You let out a soft sigh at the feeling but show no indication of being awake. He wastes no time pressing his finger against your clit, you subconsciously buck your hips forward, seeking out more of his touch.

He smiles into your hair as he slides his other hand between your neck and the pillow, moving it so it rests warm against your chest.

You subconsciously nuzzle against his arm and his heart swells in his chest at the action. You’re so cute.

As he continues his lazy pace grinding against you he slides his fingers further down, spreading your folds and teasing over your slick entrance.

His nostrils flare as he takes in your scent, sweet but with a hint of him. Even after your shower you couldn’t remove him completely from inside you. Good .

He rubs his digits through your slick; spreading it around, he lets out a grunt at the wet sounds he’s making between your legs. Sliding his hand upwards he spreads your slick over your clit, thumbing against the swollen bundle as you let out a needy whine.

His patience is starting to run thin the closer he gets to his climax, he begins to speed up his pace a little while increasing the pressure of his thrusts.

Your sounds of pleasure are becoming more frequent, the soft whimpers falling from your lips spurring him closer to his own release. He slides his soaked fingers back down between your folds before pushing a finger into your tight hole.

You let out a gasp followed by a whine at the intrusion, he stills his movements completely and uses his senses to check if you’re awake; after a breath he thankfully realises that you’re still dead asleep. Something inside him snaps with that information.

He wonders if he could fuck you while you sleep, never waking as he empties himself deep inside you.

Unfortunately that will have to wait for another time.

He resumes his movements, plunging his finger inside you until you’ve taken him right down to the knuckle, he starts to build up the thrust of his hips as he slowly pulls his finger out before pushing it back in; beginning a gentle rhythm.

With the hand that is on your chest he moves it down slowly and dips it into your tank top; he takes a handful of the soft tissue of your breast before thumbing over your hardening nipple.

As he feels his climax approaching he pulls his finger from your pussy and underwear in one swift movement before reaching for his sweats and shoving them down his thighs, he strokes his cock once, twice, three times, making sure to spread your slick over his hardened member.

He runs the tip of his cock against the back of your thighs, smearing his pre come before pushing forward and sandwiching his cock between your legs.

His head falls forward against your shoulder and he lets out a choked moan at the snug fit. The sensation of your damp panties against him mixed with the tight squeeze of your thighs has him forcing back his orgasm, not wanting this to end just yet.

You’re still blissfully unaware of what’s happening, at least your mind is; your body is responding entirely to his actions.

You start to subconsciously grind and clench against his cock, small whimpers falling from your lips as you seek out your own pleasure.

The warm clenching of your thighs is what snaps him back into action; he slides his fingers back into your panties but this time he plunges two digits inside before starting a quick pace.

He pinches your nipple between his fingers as he starts to thrust his hips, his pre come leaks against your thighs helping his actions to become more smooth. His pelvis hits against your back as he thrusts deep and hard against you, the bed starting to rock with his movements.

Every time he pulls his fingers out the head of his cock rubs against them, if he move your panties to the side he could probably run his tip through your folds.

He saves that idea for next time as he continues his harsh pace, matching his hands to his hips movements as he snaps forward. You let out a breathless whine every time his palm slaps down against your clit, the sensation driving you closer to the edge.

You cry out in your sleep, back arching and thighs squeezing tight as you reach your peak. You clench around his fingers making it slightly more difficult for him to continue fucking you. Not impossible though.

His cock starts to throb as his balls tighten, the sounds you’re making tied with the grip your pussy has on his fingers push him towards his release.

With a small struggle he pulls his hand free from your panties and pulls his cock from where it’s wedged snuggly between your thighs, a small disappointed sigh leaving his lips, but with a few quick strokes he lets out his own debauched moan, eyes flickering gold as he spills his seed over your thigh, painting you in his come.

Small whines fall from his lips as he continues to stroke his sensitive cock, milking it of all his come. Once he’s sure there’s nothing left to give he lets go of his softening member and places his hand on your hip, fingers trailing through his mess.

Your whining has quietened down but you’re still panting for breath, he can feel your heart beating madly against your chest where his hand still has a tight grip on your breast.

Once your breathing has evened out he scoops some of his come onto his fingers before lowering his hand back between your legs, he nudges the material of you panties to the side before fucking his come into your fluttering, overused hole.

You let out a high pitched whimper at the intrusion, subconsciously trying to move your hips away from the oversensitivity, but with him against your back and hand holding your chest there’s nowhere for you to squirm.

He ignores your slightly pained whines, he knows what you can handle , as he continues to push his seed deep inside you. He gathers some more before repeating the process.

A small almost soundless sob leaves your lips, the uncomfortable feeling getting too much and he reluctantly pulls back. He presses a few kisses to your shoulder in a form of apology as he rests his hand back on your hip.

“S-Sorry, honey,” he nuzzles his damp forehead against your shoulder. “Can’t help myself.”

You seem to relax at the sound of his voice, making him let out a pleased hum.

He pulls his sweats back up as he tucks himself away, deciding against putting your shorts back on; it’ll be more fun that way. He drags his fingers through the left over come on your hip before a sick idea passes through his head. He gathers up the rest of the slick and brings his fingers to your mouth, it doesn’t take much for him to push his stained digits past your lips and onto your tongue.

You let out a muffled sound and swallow around his fingers, he pushes down against your tongue, using it to clean himself before you sleepily take the hint and start sucking.

He buries his face against the back of your head, inhaling the smell of your conditioner as you lick between his fingers. Even while asleep you’re so receptive of his touch.

You were made for him.

You let out a soft muffled sigh around his fingers and the gentle action lulls him into a deep sleep.

He’s eager to see where things go tomorrow.

You love and care for him too much to destroy your friendship but every time you even think about stopping this or coming clean there’s a dark part inside that stops you.

Like a tight hand wrapped around your throat, sending a shock wave of heat straight to your core. Something deep within you wants this. Craves this.

You let out a sigh and switch the bathroom light off as you come back in the room, steps quiet as to not wake Bob but a voice from the darkness startles you in your place.

“Are you okay?” His sleepy voice is full of concern and once again a wave of guilt crashes against your resolve.

“Yeah,” you correct your breathing, still a little surprised at him being awake; praying he didn’t hear you earlier, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“The bed was empty,” his unsure reply sends a pang of an unspoken emotion through your heart as you slide into bed next to him.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” you lay back against the pillows and open your arms, Bob already eagerly settling his head against your chest before you have the chance to get comfortable yourself.

“S’nice,” his voice is muffled against your chest, “play with my hair.”

You can hear the pout in his voice; making you huff a laugh as you bring one hand to run through his unruly curls, the other you use to rub soothing circles on his back.

Maybe tomorrow you can worry about the consequences but for now you’re gonna be selfish and enjoy having Bob in your arms.

—

Once again the blinding light from the morning sun wakes you up, though this time it’s entirely your fault as you didn’t close the shutters last night.

The empty space next to you; the bed now cold, causes a small sense of disappointment to fill your chest.

Bob never really wakes up first and if he does he never leaves the bed until you do.

Before you can overthink the meaning behind it you hear a muffled cough coming from your bathroom.

You sit up on the side of the bed and listen to the stream of the shower and the soft hum of a deep voice as you allow yourself to calm down.

He’s in your shower.

Wait, why is he in your shower?

He usually likes his own shower.

Stop saying shower. 

You continue to listen to the spray of the water as your mind fills with reason he’s in your bathroom.

In all fairness you don’t even know it’s Bob, it could be Bucky. Wouldn’t be the first time.

Bucky’s things constantly break, some of the team thinks it’s because Bucky keeps forgetting his arm strength, but he believes Val is sabotaging his stuff as a sort of ‘fuck you’ for him trying to get her arrested.

Either way your room was close enough to his he often pops in to use your bathroom.

Apparently your room is very communal.

Even Yelena and Ava like to have the bi-weekly sleepover in your room.

A loud clang of a bottle falling and hitting the tiles draws your attention back to the closed bathroom door, slightly curious as to what Bob is doing in there.

If he’s in there.

Doesn’t matter because you’re not gonna check.

You’re gonna give Bob, or whomever, their privacy.

You’re gonna get dressed and go make breakfast.

You’re gonna stand up and get dressed.   Stand up. You stand from your spot and go to walk around your bed to the dresser, coming close to the bathroom door.

Good, now get dressed.

Your voice is loud in your head but you can’t take your eyes off of the door.

Your mind filling with the images and sounds of Bob fucking your mouth a few days ago, the wet squelching of him coming down your throat.

It couldn’t hurt just to take a peak, right?

You’ve done worse.

You step towards the door but a voice of reason holds you back.

No, no, no! Stop taking advantage!

Another bottle hits the ground once again grabbing your attention.

What is he doing in there?

He could be dying and you’re just standing here, or maybe he’s being attacked? Maybe it’s not Bob but a creepy intruder.

It is your job as a Thunderbolt to investigate and make sure everyone in the team is safe.

Yeah. Safe.

It’s okay to take a peek for safety reasons. That’s all.

You roll your eyes at your own reasoning but don’t stop yourself this time as you make your way to the door.

You place your palm against the cold brass of the handle before taking a deep breath and slowly opening the door; just a crack.

The image before you makes you bite back a groan as you clench your thighs together, opening the door a little wider.

Bob’s left side is facing you but from what you can make out his eyes are shut tight, his head rests against the cool tile, one hand flat beside his head and the other tightly wrapped around his cock.

Now with no door to obstruct the sound you can clearly hear the small groans falling from his soft lips, his hair is plastered to his face as water cascades down his body.

You can’t really tell if he’s dribbling pre come or if the slick glide of his hand is all from the spray of the shower, but you vividly remember how much he leaks.

His hand is going a mile a minute, desperation clear in his movements as he thrusts his hips to meet his hand.

You can’t make out the words he’s saying but every now and again you can faintly hear a curse slip through.

It takes you less than 10 seconds to argue with yourself about what you’re going to do, you’ll feel ashamed later.

You slip your hands into your underwear and gather some of the slick from where it’s started to drip down your legs before rubbing your fingers over your throbbing clit.

You shove your hand in your mouth and bite down hard on the knuckle to stop the whimper clawing from the back of your throat, praying that the stream of water muffles anything that slips out.

Bob, to your relief, seems to be so caught up in his own pleasure that he has no idea you’re even there.

His cursing gets louder as he fucks his fist, his face scrunching up the same way it does when he groans out ‘cucumber cucumber cucumber’ when he’s trying to hold back a sneeze.

Maybe that’s what he’s mumbling to himself.

With how wet you are, and with your pussy still aching from last night, you have no issue slipping two fingers inside your slick heat, biting your cheek as the hand that was in your mouth replaces the one that was playing with your clit.

You have to be quick, Bob could open his eyes at any moment and see you and this whole thing could come crashing down.

A blessing and a curse.

But you don’t want that. Right now you just want to come.

You vigorously plunge your fingers inside while pressing down on your clit, the pressure causing you to briefly see stars behind your vision — or maybe that’s just the vanity lights?

You’re close, and you hope Bob is too. You know it’s risky but you’re desperate to come at the same time as Bob.

His whimpers and moans get louder as he speeds up his thrusts, you take a moment to appreciate the round globes of his ass, the muscle clenching every time he ruts forward.

“Fuck!” His voice rings out around the room followed but by a straining cry of your name as he comes, his seed painting ropes across the shower tile.

You bite back a whine as you clench hard around your digits and pinch your clit between your thumb and forefinger, your orgasm hitting you like a train.

You fall slightly into the door frame, your legs almost buckling at the force behind it. You close your eyes and grind against your fingers, taking a few risky seconds to come down from your high.

Bob eyes slip open with a golden shine and a knowing smile as he watches your face contort in pleasure, he could feel your inner struggle while waiting for you to come in.

He was running out of items to drop on the floor to get your attention.

When your breathing has slowed your eyes snap open in panic, gaze immediately darting to Bob.

Your relief floods through you; his eyes are still closed as he pants hard against the tiles. If you weren’t so dizzy and blissed out you might have noticed the parallels.

You were standing in the exact same spot, exact same position, doing the exact same thing yesterday morning.

You allow yourself to watch Bob for just a moment longer, which does nothing to quell your arousal because before you even have a chance to turn away Bob swipes up some of his seed that’s slowly dripping down the wall and brings it to his mouth, he lets out a debauched groan at the taste.

You feel the heat return as you see his tongue poke out from between his lips, doing a thorough job of cleaning his fingers.

You force yourself to close the door and step into your room. Your heart rate is going so fast your smartwatch sends you a notification asking if you’re okay.

No, no you’re not. Thank you for asking.

You rush around the room grabbing some clothes, you’ll shower in the gym, not trusting yourself. Christ, with how hot and desperate you are you just might get on your knees and lick the tile completely clean of Bob’s come.

What is wrong with you.

No time for that. You hear the shower shut off so you just start grabbing random items, hoping it's an appropriate outfit.

That is until your eyes fall onto a pair of your panties lying on the ground close to your bed. The ones you were wearing last night.

Though this time you notice they’re a little… stiff?

You kick them with your toe before the realisation hits you.

Did Bob come in your underwear??

Before you have time to freak out and overthink you hear movement behind the bathroom door. You slip on your shoes and haul ass out of the room towards the gym, clothes bunched up in your arms.

You’re so unfocused that you don’t notice the person standing in the walk way.

You collide with a thud, becoming slightly unsteady on your feet as you drop your clothes to the ground.

A hand reaches out and grabs you before you stumble back but you swat it away.

“Move out of the way, you big tree,” you know you have no right to snap at John but it comes so naturally.

“You ran into me, dumbass,” he chuckles, unfazed by your words.

“I know you are but what am I?” you childishly mumble as you lean down and gather your belongings.

“Wow, good one,” Walker watches as you pick up your things, not offering to help.

“Shut up,” you groan.

“Laundry day?” his question is harmless but you’re in no mood to stand around.

“I can’t talk, Walker,” you push past him, which is quite difficult with this extra serum strength. Plus you swear he’s deliberately fucking with you.

“Oh no, does that mean our chat is over?” he feigns sadness.

You throw the finger at him over your shoulder as you make your way to the elevator. The sound of his smooth laugh filling the hallway.

—

You don’t see Bob until lunch time; against your will, you know it’s childish but you can’t focus around him at the moment.

After your morning workout you snuck back to your room, hiding in the shadows like an assassin in case Bob was in the halls, to your relief your room and ensuite were empty.

You ditched your clothes and made your way to the kitchen but the sight of Bob in his usual spot eating a bowl of cereal was too much, the little friendly wave he sent your way almost made you vomit so you spin on your heels wordlessly and went to a separate area of the Tower.

Bobs suspicious gaze and almost invisible smile never leaving your back as you walked out of his sight.

There were a few more run ins throughout the day, Bob in the bar area, Bob in Ava’s lab, Bob was even down in the gym.

It’s like he knew where you were gonna be before you did and got there before you.

Each time instead of saying anything you just acted like you forgot something and fucked off.

Once again unaware of the look Bob and Yelena shared.

You normally eat lunch at 12:30, you and Bob have a routine; you have a stack of takeout menus: you randomly chose one and then you each chose one dish you’ve never had before. You also usually pick a dish you both enjoyed just in case the meals you ordered weren’t nice.

Before Bob came to the Tower he used to survive on cheap gas station food and literal garbage, his palate very basic.

So you decided a few months ago that you both would broaden your culinary horizons so to speak.

You were a picky eater so this benefited you also.

You entered the kitchen at 1:30, an hour late so you hoped Bob would be gone back to his nook to read.

No such luck.

There Bob sat at the kitchen island, three meals placed in front of him.

When he saw you his small smile turned into a large grin which once again caused conflicting emotions.

“I know you wanted to try that Thai place,” he smiles as he pats your seat, “you had mentioned the meal you wanted to try so I went ahead and ordered it for you.”

You look at the window, wondering if you could make it through before Bob grabs you but the insistent look on the man’s face makes you second guess your suicidal plans.

Maybe you should speak to a therapist about why you want to jump out a window so bad.

“Thanks, Bob,” your smile is forced making Bob tip his head to the side, studying your face.

You sit beside him and you’re immediately hit with a familiar smell, your body wash, and you bet if you shoved your nose into his hair you’d smell your conditioner too. The thought makes you press your thighs together and pray Bob is more focused on the food.

“You okay,” the timber of his voice is soothing in a way you never truly realised before.

“F’course,” you nod and turn to the food, already set out and ready to eat, “are you okay?”

“I missed you,” his admission caught you slightly off guard as you turn your head to look at him.

“I’m right here, Bob,” you reassure, “I haven’t left the Tower all day.”

He grabs your hand earnestly and holds it tight like he’s afraid you’re gonna run away.

Maybe you were.

But he’s determined not to let you go this time.

“Seems like you’ve been avoiding me,” he doesn’t make eye contact and the sadness in his voice kills you.

You can never resist Bob when he gets like this. It awakens your protective, possessive, side and you would do anything to make Bob feel better.

If you were a better spy you might have realised that Bob sometimes uses this as manipulation tactic.

But as pre established you’re not a good spy.

“M’sorry, sweetheart,” you brush his hair out of his face and he practically preens at the treatment, “I’ll do better.”

“Good,” he squeezes your hand and turns his attention to the food, “let’s eat.”

Not once through the entire meal does Bob let go of your hand, you can’t say you blame him and the warmth he radiates does feel nice, even though it makes eating difficult.

You engage in small talk between bites, it starts off a smidge awkward but like always you slip into your usual banter.

You swap food and share utensils, face heating up when the fork that was just in Bob’s mouth is now in yours, or when Bob’s tongue darts out to clean your fork of all the food.

You blame the spice in the food for why your hands suddenly go clammy or why your face heats up, Bob seems to buy it, thankfully.

When lunch is over Bob finally releases your hand as he goes to tidy up the mess of takeout containers. You stand and help him, tensions are rising and you desperately need to leave.

But before you can make an excuse to dip out Bob grabs your hand tight and laces his fingers with yours.

“I got you something,” his voice is warm and filled with excitement and you can’t help but smile at his boyish grin.

“Yeah?” You let Bob lead you out of the kitchen, growing slightly nervous as he makes his way to his room.

When you enter you’re surprised with how dark it is, his shutters closed and only one lamp on by his bed.

He has piles of books lined up neatly on his shelves, clothes an organised chaos on his desk chair and bed neatly made.

It doesn’t even look like he’s spent any time in it. Probably cause he spends all his time in yours.

The thought makes you smile.

He reluctantly lets go of your hand to rummage around in some shopping bags he has by the foot of his bed. You try to peak around his broad back to see what he has but no luck.

He turns suddenly and proudly holds up the dark crimson red fabric, your eyes taking a second to adjust and take in the item of clothing.

You reach out and let the lace material run through your fingers, noting how small the flowy skirt seems to be.

“It’s beautiful, sweetheart,” you praise, smiling softly at the red that starts to fill Bobs cheeks.

“You like it?” he asks, nervous and hopeful.

“Of course,” you promise, skirts weren’t exactly your favourite item of clothing but you didn’t hate to wear them.

“When did you get this?” You look between Bob and the skirt.

“Yesterday,” he shrugs. “Wanted to get you something nice.”

“Bob,” you playfully scold, “you know you don’t have to do that!”

“I wanted to,” he reassures.

A few seconds of silence pass between you as you continue to observe the piece of clothing. You didn’t even know he went out yesterday.

“Try it on for me,” Bob all but pleads, breaking the silence, “wanna see how you look.”

“N-Now?” you can’t help the small stutter, he’s usually not so insistent to have you wear the clothes straight away.

“Yeah,” he nods earnestly. “Please, honey.”

You take the item gently from his hands like it’s a fragile treasure and head towards his bathroom.

“You can change in here,” his voice comes out rushed, rooting you in place, “I’ll turn around.”

Before you have time to protest he spins in place giving you a false sense of privacy.

You let out a small breath as you unbutton your pants; quickly sliding them down your legs, you kick your shoes off as you start to pull the fabric from your body. If you were smarter you would have put the skirt on first.

But no one has ever accused you of being smart.

While you’re preoccupied with pulling your legs through the pants you miss Bob peaking back and watching you with a heated stare.

Once you finally get the offending material off your legs you step into the skirt; pleased to find it’s a perfect fit. You had never told Bob your clothing sizes but he always knows. He must have looked at your clothes tags.

You’re happy to see the skirt is high waisted, preferring that over the low cut.

You go to tell Bob he could turn around but are shocked to noticed he’s already turned fully towards you and is staring intensely at the skirt.

“Bo-“ you start to scold but he cuts you off.

“You look good,” his eyes trail up to your face as he moves closer to you, and you swear for a second you see a golden glint to them. “Do you like it? Did I do good?”

“Uh, y-yeah,” you stutter out, not entirely used to this side of Bob. The openly desperate.

He pushes another boundary as he runs his hand over the material on your hip.

“It’s soft,” he smiles, “so soft.” He mumbles the last part mainly to himself.

“It is,” you speak slowly, voice coming out quiet.

You swear you can hear both your hearts beating. Bob continues to play with the material of your skirt and you can feel your fingers twitching at your sides, desperately wanting to grab him.

But before you can there’s a knock at his door, you step back on instinct but Bob doesn’t move, as Yelena enters without waiting for permission.

“C’mon, Bob,” she ushers him out of the room, “you have your therapist appointment in 20 minutes.”

“Oh! Yeah,” he springs into action, changing his sweater into something more appropriate for leaving the Tower.

You take in a sharp breath when his shirt catches on his sweater; riding up and exposing his taught stomach.

The sound of Yelena clearing her throat beside you makes you snap out of your trance and you glance at her, her eyes filled with a knowing look, a playful smirk on her lips.

Your face heats up in embarrassment and you lean down to grab your pants and slip on your shoes, desperate to leave.

“Thanks for the skirt, Bob,” you all but shout as you make your way out the door, “good luck with therapy!”

As you power walk to your room you miss the small conversation between Bob and Yelena.

“You’re going to kill her, Bob,” Yelena’s laugh is soft as she teases her friend.

He gives Yelena a cheeky smile as he makes his way towards the door.

“Not before I’ve had my fun.”

—

It’s a few hours until Bob returns and you’re thankful for the peace.

You had to go back to your room after he left and switch out new underwear, yet again.

At this rate it might be laundry day.

You had heard that sitting on top of a washing machine can feel very pleasurable.

You’re now hanging out in the common room, a shitty reality tv show playing in the background as you dissociate.

Ava is lying on her couch tinkering with something and Alexei is on the recliner, thoroughly enjoying trash tv.

You don’t know when it happened but sometime in the span of the months you’ve shared this Tower with the Thunderbolts you’ve become sort of reliant on Bob.

Thinking back a lot of the time you were bored and not on missions, in briefing and meetings or training you were with him.

You’ve become codependent.

Oh lord.

Although that thought doesn't scare you as much as it probably should.

A person falling unceremoniously onto the cushion beside you brings you back to the present, you send a soft glare over to Walker but he smirks it away.

“Are you right?” You huff.

“Yep,” he reaches forward and grabs a handful of m&ms out of the bowl on the coffee table.

He pops some in his mouth before offering some to you. You look at his slightly sweaty hand in disgust, the colour from the chocolate already starting to stain his fingers.

“Ew,” you emphasise the word, although that doesn’t stop you from grabbing a few off the top.

You sit in relative silence, Alexei’s booming laughter filling the space before Walker brings his now empty hand down to the material on your legs.

“New skirt?” he asks as he runs the fabric through his fingers.

“Yeah,” you nod, only half paying attention to him.

“It’s short,” he comments, when you look over there’s a slight crease in his eyebrow.

“Yeah,” you turn your attention to him fully, “and?”

“And nothing,” he laughs holding up his hands in defeat, “just an observation.”

Throughout the conversation with John you failed to see Bob standing a few feet near the door, a dark look on his face, eye slightly glowing as he watches Walker touch your skirt, touch you.

Before Bob can come in and drag Walker away from you the man jumps up on his own, Bob feels lighter as a sudden relief fills his chest. The darkness receding slightly. 

“Where’re you going,” you halfheartedly asks, eyes still on the tv.

“Training with Bucky,” he grabs a handful of chocolate to take with him.

“Tell Bucky I hope he wins,” you smirk.

“Fuck off,” he tosses a m&m at you a leaves before you can retaliate, running in to Bob as he steps out of the room. “Hey Bobby, good session today?”

Walker slaps Bob on the shoulder and just like that all the previous anguish he was feeling falls away. He doesn’t have to worry about you and John.

“Yeah,” his smile is easy, “it was pretty good.”

“That's good to hear,” John taps him one last time on the back as he makes his way to the gym.

Your posture is relaxed with your eyes trained on the tv, you’re currently eating m&ms out of your hand.

No one has noticed his return and he’s grateful, he slips into the room with practiced silence and sits down gently beside you, the complete opposite of Walker.

“Hey, Bob,” you greet him with a light tone of voice but you can't stop your shoulders from tensing slightly.

“Hey, honey,” he leans back into the couch, his side pressed up against yours.

Always seeking out your touch.

“Feeling good?” You ask, trying not to pry.

“Feeling great,” he reaches over and snags a few chocolates out of your hands and pops them into his mouth.

“That’s great,” your smile is genuine now as you gently nudge his shoulder.

As nervous as he’s currently making you, you’re glad he’s back.

You fall into a comfortable silence for about an hour, forcing yourself not to tense every time Bob reaches down and plays with the hem of your skirt.

At one point he just decides to leave his hand there. On your thigh. Material pinched between his fingers.

Thankfully it’s not long before the grumbling of his stomach draws the attention of everyone in the room.

“Oh no! Raccoon is back!” Alexei suddenly stands and pulls out a gun.

“Hey, woah!” Ava shouts as she sits up, alarmed by the large super soldier.

“Raccoon?” You ask the wild man as he frantically looks around the room.

“He stole my bagel!” Alexei grumbles as he looks behind the tv, “Bucky don’t believe me but I seen him come inside!”

“It was Bob’s stomach,” Ava lets out an exasperated sigh and points at the aforementioned man sitting beside you, hiding a sheepish grin behind his hand.

“Oh, Bob!” Alexei smiles, previous grumbling forgotten. “When did you get here!”

You roll your eyes playfully as a conversation starts around you and pull out your phone before bringing up the pizza app.

It’s close enough to dinner that you can get away with ordering food now and you already have everyone’s preferred toppings saved in your phone.

25 minutes later everyone is sitting around the kitchen island pulling slices of pizza onto their plates, Walker playfully grumbling when Yelena and Ava both snatch a piece of his out of his box.

You take in the conversations around you, allowing yourself to feel serenity for a while.

Alexei is explaining in great detail the raccoon thing, Bucky has a mischievous look on his face. Maybe he’s the raccoon?

Yelena and Ava are talking about a new fight tactic they saw online and would like to try, John interjecting and saying it was probably more theatrical than practical.

Meanwhile Bob was sitting next to you, his feet tangled with yours under the counter as he pleasantly hums around a bite of pizza, smiling happily at the conversations happening all around him.

Bob truly seems at peace.

—

After dinner you tidy the garbage off the counter while Bob washes the plates, the whole thing seeming far too domestic.

You slip into a comfortable silence once again as you spray the kitchen island with a disinfectant and scrub it down.

You don’t trust any of the germs that these people track in.

Cough, Alexei. 

You bite back small gasps every time Bob walks past, fingers grazing against the skin just below the hem of the skirt, offering a polite, “excuse me,” as he makes a show of moving past you.

You’re starting to get used to his little touches but that doesn’t do much for the heat that grows with each graze of his fingers.

You’re pulled out of your pleasant trance by the alarm of a phone ringing through the kitchen, and a part of you is shocked to find it coming from Bob.

“Bedtime?” You joke as you throw the now soggy paper towel in the bin.

He lets out a little laugh before slipping his phone back into his pocket.

“No, uh, I’m going out tonight,” he pulls out the plug and waits for the sink to empty before rinsing out the last of the soap suds.

Your eyes glance to the clock on the microwave and it all clicks.

It’s 7:30. It’s Thursday.

Bob goes to the club on Thursdays.

You didn’t even realise it was so late.

You try to mask your hurt, you’re glad Bob is turned away from you because you’re failing miserably.

You know you shouldn’t be upset. You’re not dating and whatever this is between you is creepy and unnatural for two friends, but part of you was hoping Bob would rather spend the night slowly encroaching into your personal space then go out to a club and have sex with a woman who looks just like you.

You let out a small sigh at how ridiculous you’re being. You don’t control Bob and until you strap on a pair and tell him how you feel you have no right to demand his time.

Even though he does it to you.

“Oh, okay,” you cringe at how hopeless your voice has become, “have fun.”

“Yeah, I will,” there’s a perk in his voice and a pep in his step and you swear he might be doing this on purpose.

But that’s not how your Bob acts.

“Don’t wait up,” he calls over his shoulder as he makes his way to the elevator.

You let out a frustrated sigh as you make the decision to follow him again. You weren’t going to, you were just gonna spend time in your room wallowing in self pity but he just had to throw that remark back. Like he was deliberately goading you.

Since you already knew the location of the club you don’t have to follow Bob through the streets like an unhinged stalker. You can just wait 20 minutes and head down.

But as it turns out those 20 minutes are the longest of your life. You swear all the clocks have stopped in some weird global phenomenon. It’s probably the sun… or magnets.

You hold out for as long as you can, which turns out to be 12 minutes; good enough, as you make your way to the elevator.

When you’re on the street you take care to look around and make sure you don’t see any familiar faces, you remember how popular this club seemed to be with other members of your team.

When you make it to the alleyway you’re filled to the brim with nerves, what if this goes worse than last time?

You have no idea what he’s going to do tonight so what if you walk in and he’s out on the main floor in a sandwich between a big hunky guy and the Replicant.

Actually that might not be so bad. 

But only if you were in place instead of the Replicant.

You bang the secret knock on the door and it opens with a small creak. The same man from two nights ago ushers you in.

You walk through the semi familiar hallway and see a different attendant at the curtain, they smile lightly as they pull the curtain to the side and wait for you to walk in.

You side step away from the door and behind some tables as you take in the room, searching for the floppy head of curls. You let out a relieved breath as you see him at the bar, only feeling slightly jealous when you see who he’s with.

Other you.

You follow the 5 D’s of Dodgeball as you make your way covertly to the bar, through the see of naked bodies: dodge, duck, dip, dive and dodge.

You’re pleasantly surprised when you were only groped twice, and that was probably people trying to help you, cause you no doubt looked like you were having a stroke with all the dipping and dodging you were doing.

You slide up the end of the bar a little breathless, a few seats away from Bob, who thankfully has his back turned to you.

What you fail to realise though is that there is a mirror behind the bar, a mirror that has given him a perfect view of your ridiculous covert antics.

Bob smiles into his drink as he half listens to what his companion is saying.

Thankfully you’re not too far away from them that you can’t pick up the conversations, you can’t hear it entirely though as it seems when one person in the orgy has an orgasm it creates some sort of domino effect and all of a sudden everyone is having an orgasm.

It’s very distracting.

“Are we playing tonight, Robby,” the overly fake sultry voice the Replicant uses makes you want to gag.

“Not tonight,” his voice comes out easy. You let out a pleased sound at his admission.

“Oh, what a shame,” she pouts and places her hand on his thigh, far too close to his crotch.

Your skin starts to prickle with heat and jealousy and you swear you can hear the wood of the counter starting to split under your hardened grip.

“I might go in the glory holes again,” he pays no mind to her hand; not reacting but not removing it either.

“What side,” your eye twitches as her hand drags up and down his thigh.

“The left,” he takes a sip of his drink, “I was on the right side last time.”

You think back to the signs above the doors, the left was the one with the bigger hole and the legs and the oh.

“What booth, I might see you there,” she winks.

Like hell you will.

“Five,” he finishes his drink and orders another one.

You slip from the chair and make a quick decision to throw all caution to the wind.

You are coincidentally wearing a skirt after all.

Easier to navigate.

Before you can step away into the second hallway you’re stopped by someone standing in your path.

“Hi again,” you step back and look up at the handsome stranger from last time.

He’s naked again but this time you’re more prepared. And perhaps a little desensitised to the constant nudity.

“Oh, hi,” you smile, not wanting to be rude, “you live here?” You joke.

He lets out a smooth chuckle, a very pleasant sound before answering, “I could ask you the same thing.”

“Just visiting,” you nod, anxiously moving from side to side slightly.

“Ready to take me up on my offer?” he asks, a little hopeful.

“Not this time,” you give a small apologetic smile, but he takes it in stride like he the did last time.

While you’re talking to the Handsome Stranger you can’t help but feel a heat in the back of your neck, like someone is staring daggers into you, you look around slightly panicked that Bob found you out but he’s smiling along to whatever the Replicant is saying.

On closer look only the Handsome Stranger is paying attention to you. Must be nerves.

You continue to idly chit chat, eyes falling to Bob every few seconds in case he gets up and you have to dive over a couch.

The Handsome Stranger cracks a joke and you can’t help the laugh that slips out, unfortunately you’re not able to enjoy it for long as a shattering sound comes from over near the bar.

Your eyes snap over and you notice the bartender looking around the floor in total confusion, you faintly hear them say something along the lines of “it just exploded”.

There’s no time to pay it any mind as you notice Bob put some money on the counter and go to stand. You rush out a goodbye to the Stranger who offers you a smile before retreating.

You run into the hallway, in a totally normal and subtle way, and quickly make your way to the last door on the left.

You thank your lucky stars that the rooms were vacant before stepping in. You allow yourself to breathe a sigh of relief as you lock the door and hop up onto the black bench, which is covered in a plush leather top layer.

You’re not given much chance to breathe as you hear the door open on the other side before a lock clicks into place and the small light above the door changes colour.

You take a breath and muster up all the courage you can as you find a comfortable position, you notice there's a very detailed diagram on the wall of how to use the booth.

The hole is just large enough where you can either put the lower half of your body out and dangle your legs over the side, lie on your stomach with your legs out like your bent over the bench, or you can rest your legs against the wall near the hole, two comfy looking leather straps are there to help tie you in.

You decide on the third option for now, you don’t think you have any recognising marks on your lower half… like a frog perhaps, but you’d rather not risk it at this point.

You hear shuffling coming from the other side and quickly get into position, you lie back and rest your legs against the wall and strap them in, pleasantly surprised with how comfortable this is.

You bunch your skirt up around your waist so Bob, oh god you hope it’s Bob, doesn’t recognise it.

You decided to leave your underwear on, a little too nervous to bare it all. You're sure Bob can’t recognise you from just your underwear.

Bob, or whomever; please be Bob, is taking a little long and you start to once again second guess yourself, but like the many other times in the past before you can run away your train of thoughts and self-doubts are interrupted; the little door the that covers the hole and keeps the two rooms separate suddenly opens.

You let out a small sigh of relief when you hear the familiar groan falling from Bobs lips.

When were you able to recognise that?

“Fuck, honey,” Bobs deep whine sends a thrill to your core, “this all for me?”

You try to disguise your voice like you did last time, making sure to keep it a low mumble to a whisper.

“Yes, sweetheart,” you writhe a bit as you feel the heat of his stare.

“It’s you,” his voice perks up, “I was hoping I’d get to have you again.”

You let out a soft moan at his words, “I’m all yours.”

Bob lets out a string of curses as places his hands on the meat of your thighs.

“You’ve soaked through your panties,” he moans, “so wet for me.”

You let out a debauched whimper as Bob blows over the wet patch, making you twitch.

“Gonna eat her, honey,” he promises, “gonna show her how good I can be.”

You hear a soft creaking coming from the other side and assume he’s kneeling on some sort of stool, that thought leaves your head as quickly as it comes though.

You jolt in place and let out a small cry as Bob starts to lick over your covered clit, sucking the material of your panties into his mouth, trying desperately to get all of you into his mouth.

While he pays attention to your clit his fingers slip under the damp fabric and rub slowly against your glistening folds. You arch your back and pull up your shirt, tearing your bra out of the way, hastily pinching at your hardening nipples as Bob continues to mouth at your pussy like you’re his last meal.

“You taste so fucking good,” his voice is muffled against you, “wanna spend my whole day between these legs.”

He slides a finger between your folds, not slipping inside just putting it there as he plays with your slick, the action has you grinding down, unsuccessfully, to try and get more.

“Patience, honey,” he playfully scolds, “you’ll get it.”

“Wanna come,” your voice is breathless and you’re shocked at how close you are already.

Although to be fair Bob has been teasing you all day.

“You can come as many times as you want,” he promises.

He leans back down and groans against your swollen bud, the action driving you wild and closer to the edge. He continues to trace his fingers through your slick and just as he teases your hole with the tip you throw your head back and let out a pleasured cry as you hit your peak.

You feel Bobs moan more than you hear it as it vibrates against your sensitive nub.

“Oh fuck, honey,” his voice slightly breaks as he calls you your pet name, “you’ve soaked right through.”

Your whole body is shaking against the bench as you come down from your high.

Bob eases you through it as he pushes the damp material to the side and starts lapping up your slick.

The moment his tongue hits your folds you grab the bunched up fabric of your skirt, needing something in your hands as you try to buck against his warm mouth.

His tongue swipes through your warm center, collecting copious amounts of your come, groaning every few seconds like he’s drinking his favourite beverage.

“P-Please,” you whine, voice slightly high, “hurts.”

“M’sorry, honey,” he apologises against your folds, “I-I can’t stop, not now that I finally get to taste you from the source.”

You gasp as he picks up the pace, his tongue dipping deeper inside you with each swipe. With an action that has you mewling against your fist, Bob tears away your ruined underwear before diving back in with a renowned vigour.

“Need you to come o-once more,” he pleads, voice muffled and filled with desperation, “I promise I’ll be good, just want your come.”

You grab the side of the bench for dear life as you slightly gyrate your hips against his face, you choke out a sob when he thrusts his tongue inside your wet heat.

His nose bumps against your clit with enough pressure to have you keening on the other side of the booth.

Within minutes of his treatment you’re now desperate to come a second time.

You clench around his tongue and the action causes him to grip your thighs in a bruising hold, the pain adds to the pleasure as you scratch at the leather.

“Please,” you beg, “please I wanna come.”

Your voice is slowly starting to lose the disguise but you couldn’t care less at the moment. Too focused on the pleasure between your legs.

Bob brings a hand down and pinches your clit between his fingers as his thrusts his tongue in and out, fucking your pussy with his face.

With one last slap of the leather you’re once again careening over the edge, electricity pulsing through your veins as Bob continues to lavish your pussy with attention.

“Please,” your voice is weak, “hurts.”

This time Bob pulls away, though reluctantly.

“You did so well for me, honey,” he praises breathlessly, making you preen slightly, “told you I’d be good to you.”

“So good,” you agree, panting heavily, “so good, sweetheart.”

Bob peppers small kisses around the backs of your thighs while he waits for you to come down, you let out a soft whine whenever he gets too close to your abused clit.

“Can I fuck her,” Bobs voice is filled with impatience and desperation as he speaks his words against the skin of your thigh, “been so good waiting, please.”

You let out a small breathless chuckle, ever the impatient menace.

“Want you to fuck me,” you moan, “please.”

Bob lets out an eager sound as he stands to his feet, the sound of something clattering against the floor brings you further out of your foggy haze.

“Sorry,” he chuckles apologetically, noticing your small twitch at the noise, “had to get the stool out of the way.”

You let out a hum of acknowledgment as you wait with bated breath for him to continue.

Bob’s gonna fuck you.

Robert Reynolds is going to fuck you.

You let out a nervous trembling breath that Bob misconstrues as eagerness.

“S’okay, baby,” he playfully huffs, “gonna fuck her now.”

The new pet name distracts you for a few seconds but the light touch of Bob’s fingers spreading your folds and exposing your entrance brings you back to the moment.

You clench around nothing and Bob lets out a keening groan.

You hear a wet sound coming from the other side of the booth and you jump in place as you feel something slick hit your clit and slowly dribble down towards your hole.

“So pretty,” Bob rubs his spit more against you, dipping his fingers inside, “gotta make sure you're stretched enough to take me,” he sounds wrecked, “don’t wanna hurt you.”

You sharply inhale as he gently fucks you open, adding a second finger in and scissoring them. Your walls flutter against the intruding digits making Bob bite back a growl.

“So eager,” he compliments, “my pussy.”

The last part was meant just for him but you heard him loud and clear as you whimper at his words.

Without warning he removes his fingers and lines his cock up with your leaking entrance.

“She’s drooling for me,” Bob whines, sounding more like he’s in a trance, he’s completely drunk on your pussy.

He snaps his hips forward and you let out a pained cry, no amount of preparation could have prepared you for that.

There’s a bit of a burning as he stretches you out around him, plunging himself all the way in until he’s entirely sheathed inside you.

You feel a slight stinging behind your eyes, the pain slightly overwhelms the pleasure and as if Bob can sense it he starts babbling out apologies.

“M’so sorry, honey, you just looked so warm and inviting,” the words come out all rushed and jumbled, “couldn’t help myself, I t-tried. Y’just so warm, so so warm.”

To his credit he doesn’t move, but judging by the twitching of his cock snug against your walls he’s fighting a losing battle.

“Please d-don’t be mad, needed to be inside you for so long,” he whimpers, “needed this, so did you.”

You don’t pick up on the meaning behind his words, too focused on the slowly receding pain between your legs.

“M-Move,” you sniffle, “fuck, please move.”

Bob abides instantly, pulling his cock slowly back before grinding it forward.

You let out a chocked moan but thankfully the burn has gone from pain to pleasure.

“Harder, sweetheart,” you beg, the pleasure hitting you with force, “fuck me.”

Bob doesn’t need to be told twice, he pulls himself back until only his tip is nestled between your folds before driving his cock back deep inside.

You lets out desperate groans that end in whines as he ruts against you, there must be handles on his side of the booth because as he continues his brutal pace you swear you can see the wood starting to shift from his strength.

A tremor runs through your lower half as he brings his hand down to thumb at your oversensitive clit.

His babbles out incoherent praises and curses, he words jumbling together as his pace starts to falter.

“Need to come,” he all but weeps against the wood, forehead resting against the cool wood. “Please! C-Can I come?”

You nod your head a few times before realising he can’t see you. “Yes, baby,” you moan, “you can come.”

“Inside,” his voice cracking as a desperate moan crawls up his throat, “I wanna come inside.”

His begging takes on an anguished whine as he repeats the plea over and over.

“Come in me, sweetheart,” you give him permission, although part of you feels like even without it he’d still come inside you.

“Thank you!” he wails against the wood, pace picking up with a renowned vigour, “thank you, t-thank you.”

As he hammers a bruising pace into you he hits something inside that has you crying out as your vision go momentarily white.

“There she is,” he’s breathless but sounds slightly proud as he continues to spear his cock into the spot repeatedly.

You’re so overwhelmed from the white hot pleasure that you start to claw at the leather, trying to get away but Bob grabs your thigh with a punishing grip and holds you in place as he grinds into you with a new velocity.

“Come with me!” He desperately begs, “please!”

With a few well placed hits from the tip of his cock against the soft spongy spot inside you, you practically shriek out in blissful agony, the pleasure completely consuming you.

You hear the blood pumping in your ears, and you’re breathing so fast you think you might pass out.

You’re so hazy and blissed out you unfortunately miss the way Bob cries out your name as he empties himself inside you.

Only whimpers are falling from your mouth as you try to regain some semblance of control, but it’s no use.

Bob hasn’t stopped grinding his hips against yours; he has slowed down significantly, but you’re so incredibly fucked out you can’t seem to care about how sensitive and abused your pussy feels.

You catch parts of his sentences, a small fire returning to the pit of your stomach.

“Gotta push it all the way in,” he sounds like you feel, “make sure you carry me around for days.”

Before you can answer he pulls out suddenly, a small yelp rips from your lips.

The sound is replaced with something pleasurable as he swipes his finger through your combined mess, bringing the mixture of you both to his lips.

“So good,” he pants desperately.

You have no idea how much time has passed, being fucked so good you’ve forgotten the concept of time entirely, but a small tap to your thighs tells you it may have been a while.

“We should do this again,” Bob’s voice is rough but his breathing is more under control, you have to force yourself to calm down.

“Yeah,” you agree softly, “we should.”

With that he closes the small metal door and allows you some privacy. You unstrap your legs and go to sit up, your body feels weak but you feel so good.

Hope that’s lasts.

It takes you a few minutes to find the strength to straighten yourself up, and you’re pleased to find a wooden box screwed to the wall with wet wipes inside.

How thoughtful.

It takes you a little longer to clean yourself and fix your disheveled clothing, at one point you heard Bob leave, thankfully that should give you enough time to sneak out.

You go, on instinct, to pull up your underwear but slightly panic when you can’t find them, only to remember Bob had torn them from your body.

You brush away the uncomfortable feeling as you step out of the booth, only able to wipe away the wetness that had pooled around your thighs, Bob’s come was pushed in far too deep for it to start leaking out yet.

You look around to make sure the coast is clear before looking in to Bob’s booth, you take note of the loose handles on the wall and the slightly cracked wood.

When did he do that?

You open the small trash can hoping to find the remnants of your underwear but finding it, thankfully, empty.

You really didn’t want to see used tissues and whatever other horrors.

The thought of Bob walking around with a pair of your panties sends a thrill through you.

And you’re sure he has no idea they're yours.

—

Bob rubs the damp material of your panties through his fingers, the item of clothing hidden away by his pocket. But he doesn’t need to see them.

He was, after all, the one who bought them for you.

You’ve become so complacent and trusting of Bob you’ve never really caught on to how perverted he can be.

For the past few months he has been slowly adding new pairs of panties to your rotation while taking out some older ones and you have never seemed to noticed.

He lets out a pleased hum as he makes he way back to the Tower, mind already coming up with new ways he can make you completely his — mind, body, and soul.

Bob is heated against your back, both your shirt and his damp in a thin layer of sweat, by now you're quite used to it but you don’t know why Bob just doesn't wear shorts or even his boxers to bed as the sweatpants surely can't help the overheating issue.

When you straighten out slightly, needing to stretch your tight muscles, you feel a soft twinge in your lower region… a familiar twinge.

Snapping your eyes open you suddenly become hyperaware of the situation you're in, Bob's hand; the one not on your face, has currently got a soft grip on your chest, thumb pressed against your nipple, your thighs feel sticky AND you're not wearing any pants.

What the fuck!?

Despite how violated you should feel you don't… you actually feel aroused? The thought of Bob using your body for his own pleasure causes a burning ache in your lower abdomen, your thighs clenching at the thought of him being so desperate for you.

When you felt his hard cock pressed against you last night you assumed you would have to have a difficult conversation come morning but now you're just confused as all hell. Now what?

A groggy mumble falls from Bob's lips as he moves his hand from your face and brings it down to your stomach, his other hand lightly squeezes your breast making you gasp at the sensation, his sleep seemingly interrupted by your inner turmoil.

"Mornin', honey," he nuzzles his face into the back of your neck, all the while keeping his hand tucked snug in your shirt.

"B-Bob," your voice is full of confused nerves, the urge to jump out of bed and assume a new identity coming on strong.

Or jump out the window.

"Shh… don't ruin it." He scoots his body closer to yours, you're surprised there was even any space left between you. "Relax, go back t'sleep."

If only it was that easy.

You close your eyes and scrunch up your face, trying as hard as you can to relax but your body and mind are at odds. Or maybe they're not.

Thankfully a shrill alarm fills the room forcing you and Bob apart, thank sweet merciful Jesus. You jump out of bed; ignoring the fact that your sleep shorts are around your ankle, and get dressed in yoga pants and a loose tee, you'll change into tactical gear on the jet.

As you shove your foot into your shoe you look over to Bob who is still in bed, hands covering his ears at the blaring sound; he hates loud noises.

You walk over to him and run your hand through his hair in a soothing gesture, he immediately wraps his hands around your waist and buries his head in your stomach, using your body to sooth himself. Seems familiar.

You allow yourself this moment to calm Bob as best you can, he doesn't go on missions; not fully in control of Sentry and The Void to be out in the field, he's also told you time and time again that he'd rather you stay behind with him.

"S'okay, sweetheart," you run your fingers through his hair and rub his back, "it's probably nothin' serious."

"Then why'd'you have to go?" He looks up at you as the alarm thankfully shuts off.

"Cause it's my job," you chuckle, your previous conundrum temporarily forgotten.

Before Bob can huff out a response there's a banging on the door followed by a gruff voice.

"Ass in the jet now!" Walker's voice grows faint as he steps fade down the hall.

"Who died and made him god?" You roll your eyes and go to pull away, but find it a tad difficult with the strength of a thousand suns holding you.

"Bob," playfully sigh, "you gotta let me go, bub."

"Nope." Deadpanned and all sass.

"Bob!" You try to sound more firm but it's not working, not with him.

"You have to do something first." His small smile seems innocent but you know better by now.

"What?" You squint.

"Kiss." It's said like a statement, not a request, not a question. An order. "Then I'll let you go."

You go to protest but the loud commotion from down the hall draws your attention.

You'll have to figure all this out later. Now is not the time.

You lean down and intend for the kiss to be brief, just a peck but Bob has other ideas. As you lower your head he brings a hand up to cradle your face and slots his lips against yours, keeping a tight grip on your cheek when you try to pull back.

You place your hands on his chest to push him firmly but as he flicks his tongue against your lips, begging silently for entrance, all rationality flies out the window. You part your lips and he lets out a groan as he pushes his tongue into your mouth, instantly moving it against yours.

It's sloppy and heated and you have to squeeze your legs together to alleviate some of the pressure. Another moan slips past his lips into your mouth and you swallow it down with a sigh of your own, the current threat momentarily forgotten.

That is until you hear metal on metal and the barking of a very irate super soldier.

"Hurry up!" Bucky's voice rips you from your moment and you step back, Bob reluctantly letting you go.

"Be safe." He says softly as you make your way to the door.

"You too." You reply as you rush to catch up with Bucky.

You too? What?

There's no time to think about that or anything else as you're being ushered onto the jet, Bucky already briefing everyone on the situation before you can even grab your bag of items.

Essentially you're going to an old WWII bunker that's been conducting hydra experiments; mainly super soldiers. You have to clear out he scientists and experiments.

By the time you're dressed he's finished and is starting to assign teams and outline the mission parameters. Ava and John, Alexei and Bucky, You and Yelena.

You're grateful you don't have to pair up with John again, last time did not go well. The mission was a success but you had almost drowned John in a sink filled with questionable liquid because the man is just so arrogant and stubborn. Total backseat leader.

But judging by the smug secretive smirks Yelena keeps sending your way you might have proffered to be paired with Ava, hell, even Bucky; even though he intimidates you. You and Alexei aren't allowed to pair up after you both let the ringleader for an underground tech black market escape while he was teaching you how to make Kvass; a soda made from bread.

Since then neither of you can be trusted to not get distracted. Fair.

When you reach your destination you break away into formation with Bucky and Alexei taking point.

You end up trudging through snow covered forest until you find a small bunker opening, a few dead bodies laying in the red stained snow, judging by the snow on their backs they've been there for a while.

You and Yelena make your way through a dark cement hallway, guns drawn as flickering lights make the experience more eerie, you check each room you come across for soldiers or scientists; marking the door with a small red 'x' after finish a full sweep.

"So…" Yelena draws out the word with a whisper, tone smug as you shine your flashlight around the room. "How's Bob?"

You crease your eyebrows and stare at her in disbelief. "'How's Bob?' Really?"

"What?" She feigns innocence. "Just making conversation."

"Bob's fine," you playfully roll your eyes as you make your way down the creepy hallway, flinching at every sound you hear from the dark. "You see him as much as I do."

"I don't think so." She snickers as she turns to look in a small closet, satisfied when it's empty. "So are you two, like, "going steady?"" She throws her hands up to do the finger quotes.

You spin on your heel in alarm. "What? No. What? Why?" Your voice is rushed and slightly too loud as you momentarily forget you're on a mission.

"Wow." She laughs as she pushes past you and continues her sweep.

You open and close your mouth, unsure what to say or how to act. What does she know? Does Bob talk to her? Does Bob talk to her about you?

Why don't you have someone to confide in? You do, it's Bob. That's not helpful.

"You coming?" Yelena's voice snaps you out of the fight you're having with your inner monologue.

"Yep." You spin on your heel and rush to catch up with her, she's already at the end looking down both the left and the right hallway to make sure the coast is clear. "Has Bob said anything?" You ask after a few seconds, trying and failing to sound casual.

She gives you and infuriatingly secretive smirk and in that instance you wish there was a sink with questionable liquid you could dunk her in.

"Well—" But before she could continue you're interrupted buy a noise coming from around the corner.

You press yourself back against the wall and listen as two sets of foot steps make their way towards you from the right, with no way of making it back to the closest room without drawing attention your only option is to take them by surprise.

Just as Yelena goes to step out another set of foot steps can be heard coming from the left hallway, she gives you a look like this could be bad, normally three guys would be easy for either of you to deal with, but not super soldiers.

She gives you a nod as she pulls out a flashbang from her vest, you put your fingers in your ears and close your eyes before moving backwards as she tosses it into the hall. The corridor is filled with alert yammering before a long bang echoes off the wall, you can see the bright light behind your eyelids as a slight high pitched ringing plays in your ears.

Overall you're mostly unaffected but you will have a slight headache later. Unfortunately the flashbang doesn't have as much of an effect on super soldiers as it would the common man and they manage to gather their senses a lot faster then either of you were hoping.

Yelena barely has time to raise her gun before a large man barrels around the corner tackling her into the wall with a loud thud, you call out to her as you go to intervene but just as you pull the trigger you're grabbed by the midsection and hauled into the air, the bullet landing into the wall next to the angry giant.

You have no time to focus on Yelena as you're being dropped to the floor, landing on your side, hard; thanks to the adrenaline you barely feel a thing. You quickly roll out of the way as a large foot comes down and slams against the concrete floor were your head just was.

The soldier stumbles slightly and you take the opportunity to bring your leg close to your chest before pushing your foot forward with all your might and striking him in the knee. He lets out a pained grunt before falling to the floor on one leg.

Your victory is short lived as the third guy, temporarily forgotten, grabs your hair close to your scalp and drags you away from his friend. You let out a pained cry as you reach for the knife strapped to your thigh, you swipe behind you until you hit something and the pressure on your head is released.

You briefly see Yelena shock her soldier in the neck before plunging a knife into his neck but you can't focus on that as you quickly jump to your feet and immediately duck out of the way as a fist swings at your face.

You step to the side and grab the electric baton Yelena just dropped near your feet as she attacks the large soldier behind you, jabbing it forward until it hits the soldier in the chest, he let's out a deep cry as he grabs the end and rips it from your grip. You use the small distraction to unholster the small gun on you hip and shoot the man twice, one on the shoulder and one in the heart.

A struggle from behind pulls your attention as you spin to see the last soldier with one hand wrapped around Yelena's throat and the other, bloody from where you cut him, ready to strike her with a knife.

You can't get a clean shot, not wanting to risk hitting Yelena so you shoot him in the thigh, letting out a frustrated groan when he barely moves. You drop your gun and grip your knife tight in your hand as you run and launch yourself onto the larger soldiers back, bringing the blade down into his chest.

Thankfully he lets go of Yelena who falls to the floor and gasps for breath, but before you can manage to strike him again he pulls the knife from your hand and throws it down the hall before backing up quickly and crushing you against the wall.

You let out a cry at the pain shooting through your ribs and let go of your hold on the soldier who immediately turns around and punches you square in the face making your head snap back and collide with the hard cement wall.

Your vision goes blurry as sink to the floor only slightly aware of Yelena calling your name. The soldier turns to her but before he has a chance to attack you notice your fallen gun and quickly crawl across the floor, biting back the pain as you slide the weapon over to her waiting grasp.

She empties the clip into the soldiers chest, barely enough to bring him down but thankfully luck was on your side as he crumbles to the ground.

You sit in silence for a few seconds, correcting your breath and assessing the situation. When you look to Yelena she gives you a small nod.

"You okay?" Blood already drying around her nose.

"Oh yeah." You try to smile but it's more of a grimace. "Feeling good."

A crackle through your coms interrupts the still moment, Bucky's voiced coming rushed over the radio.

"We have what we came for," you wince as you hear shooting on his end. "They're sending in reinforcements, time to go!"

You and Yelena pull each other up as you half limp half run from the building; moving as quickly as you can back to the jet as the helicopters in the distance start to grow louder and louder.

You're the second team to arrive at the jet as you hobble aboard, John already in the pilots seat waiting for take off as soon as Bucky and Alexei get back.

"Jesus, are you guys okay?" Ava asks, a slight waver in her voice.

"S'nothing," Yelena gently pushes her hand away as she tries to check for injuries.

"And you?" She inquires as she gives you a once over, taking note of the blood on your forehead and your cut lip.

"I have a headache." You shrug, "Bucky and Alexei not back yet?" You ask the obvious but still feel like it needs to be said.

"Not yet," John's voice calls from the front as he looks out the window, watching for any movement.

Not even a minute later two sets of boots are stomping up the metal ramp, before any of you can get into attack mode Bucky calls out to start the damn jet.

Not needing to be told twice you're in the air and on the way home.

You slump down into a seat and let out a long breath, taking in the appearance of your teammates. Ava and John seem to have experienced the least amount of damage, they stuck around the perimeter and judging by all the dead bodies around the exits you're guessing there wasn't a lot of security left.

Bucky and Alexei have suffered the most, the Russian causing a fuss as Yelena stares daggers at him while she tries to wrap a bandage around the bullet hole in his arm. Bucky is covered in scraped and cuts but no bullet holes.

"So what did we get?" Ava asks, confusion slightly in her tone. "Wasn't this supposed to be a clean house sort of deal?"

Bucky waits a second before answering, knowing that no one will react well. "Val wanted a file."

"What!?" John, Ava and Yelena yell in unison.

You huff a small laugh at the synchronization before biting back your smile at the glare Yelena sends you.

"We did all that for a file?" Ava scoffs with her hands on her hips. "Couldn't she just send in her goons?"

"Not this time." Bucky shrugs.

"Why are you so buddy-buddy with Val all of a sudden?" John accuses from the front seat.

"I'm not." Bucky defends but a chorus of disbelief scoffs fill the jet. "This information is just better in our hands then anyone else's."

"What information?" Yelena asks, arms crossing over her chest.

"Sentry stuff." Bucky's voice is quiet as his eyes flicker over to you briefly before he brings his focus to his hands.

"How do they know about Sentry?" You're now alert and more interested in the conversation then you were before.

"Well after what happened in New York we couldn't exactly hope to keep it all a secret." Bucky explains. "Unfortunately these things just have a way of getting out."

"So you're just gonna hand over more information to Val?" Yelena is getting defensive, her protectiveness over Bob slipping out.

"No." Bucky shakes his head. "I'm gonna destroy it, no one needs this information… the world already has too many super soldiers, it doesn't need more."

With that the jet falls into a tense silence. You close your eyes and rest your head back against the cool steel of the wall but instantly let out a hiss on contact.

"You okay?" Bucky seems concerned.

"Yeah, just a nasty bump on the head is all." You nod.

"She probably has a concussion." Yelena shrugs at your hard stare.

"It's nothing." You huff, not wanting to seem weak in front of the team. "I'll be fine."

Thankfully it doesn't take you too long to reach the Tower, you let out a sigh of relief as the jet lands and the ramp opens.

All you want is a warm bath and a nap. Maybe some food. And Bob.

Speaking of the devil, as you stand you're almost instantly greeted with the sight of the floppy mop of curls making its way up the metal ramp.

"Good mission?" He asks, smiling, but his tone is tight.

A small mumble of 'yeah's' is his only response as he makes his way to you, you miss the look and nod Yelena and Bob share.

"Are you okay, honey?" Bob's voice is a bit more panicked as he takes in your appearance; face covered in blood and bruises, your hand holding your left side and a slight limp.

"Yeah," you reassure as he his hands gently start to inspect your body. There's nothing sexual about it; him having done this dozens of times, but as Bob's gaze turns heated as he stares at your lips you feel a pulse of electricity curling in your stomach.

You try to reaffirm that you're okay as Bob takes a quick glance around to make sure you're alone before he leans in and kisses you… hard.

So hard that the barely scabbed over cut on your lip breaks open, you let out a hiss at the sting but Bob is quick to run his tongue over the injury, cleaning up all the blood before pushing his tongue into your mouth.

You let out a confused sound as his spit and your blood fill your mouth, the metallic iron and the chocolate from a milkshake he must've had earlier making a not too unpleasant combination. You try to pull back a bit but his face chases yours, not allowing you to break the kiss; he needs this.

He pulls you closer to his body, being mindful of your injuries as he swallows down your small whimpers.

Before the kiss can go further you're interrupted by some crew members coming to look over the jet and refuel it.

Bob grabs your hand and slowly leads you inside, carefully matching your stride as you limp towards the medbay. 

"I'm sure some painkillers will do the trick," you groan as Bob squeezes your hand.

"You're getting a check-up, honey," his tone is final as he pulls you through the corridors.

Half an hour later you're finally back in your room; a plaster over the cut on your forehead, cream on your lip and some meds for the pain. All stuff you could have done from your room.

"What are you doing?" You ask from your spot on the bed as you watch Bob dig through your clothes drawer.

"You have to have a shower," he shrugs as he pulls a fresh pair of sleep shorts from the top drawer.

"Don't wanna," you huff like a petulant child, body sore and exhausted from being slammed by a giant.

"Too bad," Bob laughs as he comes over to where you're laying on top of the covers. "C'mon, get up."

"No." You roll on your side, back facing him as you tuck your hands under you slightly, you let out a small hiss at the movement .

"Honey," his voice is deep and firm, a small thrill runs through you; not used to this kind of Bob.

"I'll do it later," you promise, voice muffled from where it's buried in your pillow.

Bob rolls his eyes and comes around the side of the bed, mattress dipping from where he's sat.

"Do I have to count to three?" His voice playful but still firm.

"Oh, fuck off," you chuckle into the fabric, slightly turning your face so you can breath. "M'not a child."

"Then why are you acting like one?" Is his quick reply.

"Well if it isn't the pot calling the kettle black." You scoff at his audacity.

"Racist." He mumbles as you

You bring a hand out to slap his arm but he's quick to grab it, using the limb as leverage to manhandle you into his lap.

"Be good for me, honey." He rubs his nose against yours, you let out a small gasp suddenly overwhelmed by the action. "Just wanna take care of you."

You swallow down the saliva pooling in your mouth, heart clenching and stomach hurting at the direction this has taken.

"You'll let me take care of you, won't you?" He pouts and you can only manage a nod, not trusting your words. "Good girl."

Before you can let out an embarrassing moan he stands to his feet, you still cradled in his arms. You let out a small squeak of surprise as you wrap your legs around his waist, his hands coming to hold you up by your thighs.

He walks you into the bathroom and places you and your clothes on the counter as he pulls away and turns to start the shower. You're suddenly cold and filled with disappointed at the loss of his body.

As steam starts to fill the room you feel a little bummed that you don’t have a bath. The only bath in the tower is in the gym locker rooms for some reason. Maybe you'll have to ask Val for one.

Bob walks over to you as you slide from the counter, his hands held out slightly in front of him in case he needs to steady you. Before you start to get undressed you notice the 'clothes' by the sink. Just a pair of sleep shorts.

"Um, Bob," you hold up the thin fabric, you don't even remember even owning a pair like these. "Where are my other clothes?"

"Oh, right!" Bob says like he just realised the problem. "Here."

As he says that he pulls his sweater off placing it on the counter before sliding his dark grey shirt over his shoulders and handing it to you.

"I almost forgot your shirt." His smile is far too sweet, but you're far too tired to overthink things right now.

"Thanks, sweetheart…" You say calmly and place the warm fabric on top of your pants before limping over to the shower stall.

"Okay, well don't be too long." Bob's voice is slightly muffled as he shoves his sweater back on.

"Wait," you turn to him confused. "…Aren't you… joining me?" You ask slowly, face heating up at the implication.

"That would be kinda weird for two friends, wouldn't it, honey," Bob lets out a convincingly awkward chuckle. "How hard were you hit on the head?"

He leaves the room with you staring at him, eyes wide, mouth gaped open and cheeks burning in humiliation and confusion.

WHAT the FUCK?

Are you concussed? The doctor said you were fine but have you just been imagining everything? What is even real?

You stare at your reflection in the mirror, barely recognising yourself in the reflection. Christ, you look tired.

You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment before deciding to deal with all that later as you strip down and stand under the warm spray.

You shower quickly, washing your hair with record speed but admittedly you take your time drying and getting dressed. The nerves coming hard at the stunt Bob has just pulled.

You slide on Bob's shirt, pleased and a little surprised that it still holds his warmth before grabbing the shorts. No underwear in sight. You roll your eyes and quickly side into the sheer fabric. Where did these come from?

After brushing your teeth you stare at yourself in the mirror; taking note of all the bruises. Your lip has scabbed over and your cheek is a little swollen, there's a bump on the back of your head and your ribs are purple; you add a dry plaster to the cut on your forehead. The headache has faded significantly but you still pop two more painkillers in your mouth.

You start to dissociate as you stare at your reflection but before you can get lost too completely a muffled thud comes from the door. You scrunch up your brow in confusion as you walk towards the sudden sound, switching the light off as you go.

When you leave the bathroom a pillow lays on the floor by the door, you give Bob a look but he just shrugs as he takes a bite of a sandwich.

"You were taking too long," he speaks with his mouth full. "Your food is gonna get cold."

He nods to the plate sitting on your side of the bed.

"It's a sandwich, Bob." You state, wincing slightly as you lean down to pick up the pillow and walking over to the bed. "It's not gonna get cold."

"Soggy, then." His says but his focus is on the TV mounted on the wall at the foot of your bed.

You playfully roll your eyes as you take a bite, grateful he got you something to eat. You're also thankful the blinds are shut, not sure you'd be able to handle the afternoon sun.

"Thanks," your voice is muffled as you chew your food, forgetting your manners as you scarf down your ham and cheese sandwich.

Bob hums out a reply as he dust the crumbs from his legs onto the floor; you're gonna have to get your Roomba back from Ava, that is if she hasn't dismantled and scrapped it for parts.

You fall into a comfortable silence as one of your comfort shows plays in the background, you've finished your sandwich but are still kind of hungry. As if Bob can sense that; he probably could, he wordlessly places the leftover half of his sandwich on your plate.

"M'full," he says before you have a chance to protest. "I've been eating all day."

You silently nod as you finish it off with a pleased sigh. "Thanks, sweetheart."

You put your plate on the bedside table, mimicking Bob's early movements of dusting the crumbs off your lap before turning and fluffing up your pillows in an acceptable pile as Bob watches from the corner of his eye in amusement.

You straighten your legs up under the warm blankets as you once again fall into a familiar silence but it's not long before you notice Bob starting to fidget. It starts off barely noticeable, fingers twitching as he plays with the blanket, his feet slightly moving under the covers. Then ten minutes pass and he's biting the tip of his thumb and chewing on his bottom lip.

You know what he wants, you always do. He wants to cuddle. 

Normally he initiates it, mainly because he barely waits for you to get comfortable before he's sliding into your personal space. But for some reason he's holding himself back.

Today has been a confusing day.

"C'mere, Bob." You speak gently and open your arms, the words barely leaving your mouth before he's scooting over. "You gotta be careful, okay?"

"'Kay," his voice is faint as he gets situated, being mindful of your sore ribs.

Normally he just cuddles up to your side, head in your neck and chest as he demands you play with his hair but today he's decided to try something different.

With a bit maneuvering he slots himself between your legs and lays his body on top of yours, making sure his weight is more on your right side; the good side, as buries his face in your shoulder.

This sort of clinginess has happened before, whenever you come back from a mission injured he has a desire to be closer. You have never minded how he gets, but that was before… everything.

"Wanna be close… please," his voice is whiny as he clings to your chest, hips ever so slightly rubbing against yours; his arousal evident, making you swallow back a groan. "I could've lost you today."

"Don't be so dramatic," you playfully scold. "I was in no serious danger."

You both knew that was a lie.

"Please… wanna feel you," his desperation sends a thrill down your spine as wetness start to pool in your shorts, the material not doing any thing to help hide your own arousal.

In a weird and powerful way you feel like for once; at least today, you have the upper hand. You control this situation.

Bob's words from the bathroom come back to your mind,

"That would be kinda weird for two friends, wouldn't it,honey,"

You could easily throw that back in his face… but you don’t want to.

And that's why you only think you're in control.

"Honey…" Bob's whimpered moan brings you back to the moment, you let out a small gasp as he starts to pick up the movement of his hips; no longer being subtle. If he ever was.

"I'm here, bub," you rub soothing circles on his back. "Take what you need."

With that permission he lets out a wanton moan, full of need and desperation.

With sluggish movements he raises his hips and pushes his sweats down his thighs, far enough down to free his cock; red and leaking, as he rests his head on your shoulder and looks between your legs.

"Jus-Just the tip, honey, please?" He doesn’t wait for your reply as he pulls the damp crotch of your sleep shorts to the side and pushes the tip of his cock through your puffy folds; his precome mixing with your slick as he teases your clit.

"Fuck, baby," you mewl as you grip his shoulder in a tight hold.

"Just the tip, okay?" He nods, already deciding; his eyes glowing as drool slips out the corner of his mouth. "Please, I need it."

A surprised whimper slips out as you watch his glowing eyes roll into the back of his head, he takes a second to smear your mixed juices over his cock, getting it nice and wet before teasing your hole.

You've never seen his eyes glow outside of training or when he get's into a heated argument with Walker, Sentry only ever slipping through slightly when his emotions amp up.

This should scare you, or at the very least make you more alert; make you stop this before it leads to something potentially dangerous. But fuck if it doesn't turn you on. Knowing that you effect Bob so deeply, knowing you have the same effect on him that he has on you is the real powerful feeling.

Of all things that could pull you out of your spiraling arousal you didn’t think it would be the laugh track to the sitcom still playing on the TV. You reach over to grab the remote but Bob's hand shoots out as he gently, but firmly, holds your wrist still.

"L-Leave it on," he stutters out as he drags his cock through your folds again, you bite back a whimper; the teasing becoming too much. "Keep, fuck, keep watching, wanna make you feel good, honey, please."

You don't have the heart or energy to tell him you couldn't possibly watch the TV right now but you train your eyes on the screen as he keeps to his word and pushes only his tip into your soaking cunt.

You choke out a moan as clench around his bulbous head, the action causing his face to drop back into your neck as he pants heavily against your heated skin.

He pulls out slowly and drags his cock back through your folds, pressing against your clit as he starts a rhythm; grinding against your cunt while every now and then dipping the head of his cock inside.

You let out a wet gasp every time he pushes in, relishing the way his groans sound muffled against your neck.

It's takes no time at all until your torso is covered in sweat, mostly Bob's as he still has on his sweater. You grab the hem of the thick material and start dragging it up his back.

"Take it off, sweetheart, s'too hot." Your voice is high pitched and desperate but there's nothing you can do to control it.

He doesn’t answer but let's out a soft whine as he sits back, not happy that he has to slightly detach himself from your body to remove the item of clothing.

When it's off he chucks it haphazardly somewhere in your room and as he leans down he pushes the shirt you're wearing; his shirt, up your torso until its bunched just under your breasts.

He let's out a long drawn out moan when his skin rubs against yours, his obsession with touching you and being as close as possible becoming more apparent in certain situations.

As he drags his cock over your clit it causes you to buck up against him, the pressure making you cry out.

"Warm," his voice is soft and deep, harder to hear from where he's buried himself back into the crook of your neck, but you have a feeling he's not saying it for you. "Soft."

He starts to pick up his pace as you wrap your arms around his back and pull him flush against your chest, biting back the small pain that shoots through your ribs, but as he thrusts his tip back into your sopping wet cunt the pain breaks away into something shocking, something pleasurable.

He lifts your torso up slightly so he can wrap his arms around your back, completing the impossibly tight embrace, it's intimate and electric but it does make it a bit harder for him to grind against you.

As he pushes his cock snuggly between your folds you can feel it start to throb and pulse, his climax right around the corner.

"Please, please…" You're not sure what he's asking; begging for, but his wrecked voice and the stuttering of his hips against yours is enough to send you closer to your peak.

"Come for me, sweetheart." You arch your back and grind against him as much as you can under his weight. "I need you to come, Bob."

Your voice is breathless as he lets out a wrecked moan, he humps his cock against your clit a few times before rearing back and before you realise what he's doing he plunges his length completely inside you, sheathing himself fully.

You cry out; your sounds echoing around the room, nails digging into his back at the slightly painful intrusion.

"F-Fuck, Bob." Your eyes are squeezed shut as you feel his cock throbbing inside you.

He bites your shoulder, hard, as he pulls out and thrusts back in just the one time before he's spilling inside you with a depraved moan. The sensations, the pleasure mixed with pain and his animalistic sounds are all too much and you're quickly thrown into your own climax, white behind your eyes as the feeling temporarily blinds you.

"Sorry, baby… s'your fault." He breathlessly accuses, and if you weren't barely tethered to consciousness you'd pinch him. "So warm… needed t-to be inside you."

He grinds his hips a little making you jolt from the oversensitivity as you let out breathy whines.

"Keep it in, please… don't waste, fuck, don’t waste it." There's still a desperation to his voice but it's different from how he sounds when he needs to come. Something more possessive…

Your heart rate has significantly slowed and is mostly normal as your exhausting comes back in full force, you're on the precipice of sleep so you lightly tap Bob's shoulder to try and get him to unwind his body from around yours.

He stubbornly ignores you and when you try again he pulls back slightly and harshly thrusts buck into your sore pussy, seemingly punishing you.

"Go to sleep or I'll fuck you to sleep," he speaks slowly, his voice rough as he nuzzles in closer, your heart jumps slightly at his tone and threat, not used to this side of Bob.

You're seeing a lot of different sides to him today.

Unable to dwell much on it due to your tired state you end up succumbing to the darkness a lot quicker then normal.

Perhaps if Bob's head hadn't been buried in your neck and you were a little more aware you might have notice the inky blackness that had completely filled the blue and whites of his eyes.

Bob presses a kiss to the bruising bite mark on your shoulder, mumbling a small "all mine" into your skin, his voice sounding a little more deeper, a little more like static, a little more sinister.