You find yourself in a dimly lit room, the air thick with anticipation. Robert Reynolds, with his chiseled jaw and intense gaze, stands before you, his eyes roaming over your body with a hunger that sends shivers down your spine. He steps closer, his voice a low, husky whisper, "You're fucking gorgeous, you know that?"
His hands, strong and sure, begin to explore your body, starting at your shoulders, tracing the curve of your neck, and then down to your breasts, where he takes his time, caressing and squeezing gently, making you arch into his touch. "Your body is a masterpiece," he murmurs, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, making them harden under his touch.
He continues his exploration, his hands moving down to your hips, pulling you against him so you can feel his hardness pressing into your stomach. "I want to worship every inch of you," he says, his voice filled with a passion that sets your skin on fire.
He leads you to the bed, his eyes never leaving yours as he slowly undresses you, his touch leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He takes his time, kissing and licking every part of your body, making you squirm with need. His fingers find your wetness, and he groans, "Fuck, you're so ready for me."
He positions himself between your legs, his eyes locked on yours as he slowly enters you, inch by inch, filling you completely. You moan, your back arching as he begins to move, his hips thrusting against yours in a rhythm that has you crying out his name.
"You feel so fucking good," he groans, his voice strained with effort as he continues to move inside you. He leans down, capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss, his tongue mimicking the movements of his hips.
His hands roam your body, squeezing your breasts, gripping your hips, and pulling you deeper onto him. "I love how your body responds to mine," he says, his voice a low growl. "You're so fucking perfect."
He flips you over, pulling you onto your hands and knees, and enters you from behind, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he pounds into you. "Your ass is so fucking sexy," he says, his voice filled with awe. "I could fuck you like this all day."
He reaches around, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing it in tight circles as he continues to thrust into you. "Come for me," he commands, his voice leaving no room for argument. "I want to feel you come all over my cock."
Your body obeys, your orgasm crashing over you in waves, your muscles clamping down on him as you cry out his name. He groans, his movements becoming erratic as he chases his own release, finally shuddering behind you, filling you with his heat.
He pulls out slowly, a satisfied smile on his face as he sees his seed leaking out of you. "Fuck, that's hot," he says, his voice filled with satisfaction. He pulls you into his arms, kissing you softly, his hands still roaming your body, already ready for more. "I could get used to this," he says, his voice a low rumble. "You and me, all day, every day."
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pre-thunderbolts robert "bob" reynolds headcanons that aren't flanderizing as "owo soft boy" (cw for drugs, crime, self-harm, abuse, overdose, death, addiction, meth is bad)
prior to running away from home, bob (while high) once snuck into disney world after closure with a few friends to deface the walt disney statue... they were promptly caught and he had to serve a month in county jail
bob has a fondness for puzzles because it was one of the few activities he got to do with his mother growing up where no yelling or fighting happened
he lost many friends to overdose, meth or otherwise; it wasn't enough to make him quit, but he has a habit of keeping narcan on his person because of it
bob used to play guitar in a little garage band called the neonlights, they only had one gig before the band broke up; he continued to play the guitar afterwards and it was one of the few gigs that gave him money after running away from home... the sentry project's super serum erased the callouses from his years of playing
his favorite superhero is the hulk :]
he likes to put sliced strawberries on his pancakes and chocolate syrup so it looks like a face because his mother would do so for him growing up
he despises the nickname 'bobby' because of his dad, but he likes when people call him 'bo' on occasion
he has pain flare ups because of the car accident during middle school and it's partly why he turned to meth after he ran out of his prescription morphine
during his travels after dropping out of high school, he joined a hippie caravan for a few months and learned how to survive off the land but he eventually left the group to score more drugs
about a year before his backpacking journey in malaysia, bob had a girlfriend named lucy; she helped him get sober and employed at alfredo's bail bonds, but ultimately broke up with him after he assaulted a civilian while on meth at work
prior to the serum healing him, bob suffered from malnutrition and skin sores because of his meth usage; during his withdrawals, he had a tendency to scratch at his arms and thighs until they bled
bob has a smiley face tattoo on his left buttcheek... don't ask how that happened, he's still embarrassed
while in malaysia and prior to joining the sentry project, bob found a stray dog that he named lucky and the pair would travel through the country together for a couple of weeks; before he left for the sentry project, he made sure to find someone to take lucky in and struck gold with a family in need of a farm dog
bob's favorite candy is skittles
his favorite song is sally, when the wine runs out
after leaving his abusive households, bob stole a bottle of black nail polish from his mom and would paint his nails as a means to stop nail biting so much
his favorite animal is the shark, he relates to them
Lewis Pullman's hands trembled slightly as he cupped her face, his thumbs brushing gently against her cheeks before he leaned in, capturing her lips in a hungry kiss. Their mouths moved urgently against each other, tongues exploring and tasting, the kiss growing messier and more intense with each passing second. His hands roamed her body, sliding under her shirt to feel the soft, warm skin beneath. He could feel her heart racing, matching the pace of his own, as their arousal built, a tangible tension between them.
She let out a soft moan, her hands mirroring his actions, pushing his shirt up and running her fingers along his back, tracing the lines of his muscles. The room was filled with their heavy breathing and the quiet, desperate sounds of their need. He could feel the slight embarrassment in her touch, the hesitation that only served to make him want her more. He pressed his body against hers, letting her feel just how much he wanted her, his arousal evident and pressing against her hip.
"God, I need you," he murmured against her lips, his voice hoarse with desire. He trailed kisses down her jaw, her neck, his hands gripping her hips, pulling her flush against him. She let out another moan, this one louder, more urgent, and he knew she was as lost in this as he was. Their bodies moved together, a dance of need and want, their breaths syncing, their hearts pounding in unison. The room spun around them, but all they could focus on was each other, the intensity of their connection, and the promise of what was to come.
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Bob, exasperated with his colleagues, conceded and pulled out his phone, his finger finding his wife's contact automatically. "I can't promise she'll answer, she's on shift," he muttered, his voice laced with a mix of resignation and hope.
Jake chuckled, clanging beer bottles with Bradley, his eyes glinting with skepticism. "Yeah, or she's just not real," he scoffed, his voice dripping with doubt.
Bob's jaw tightened, but he kept his cool. "You know what, fuck you guys," he muttered under his breath, a knowing smirk crossing his face as he noticed your predatory gaze from across the table. You'd clearly heard their bet about his non-existent love life, and he shot you a subtle wink, a silent challenge in his eyes.
The atmosphere in the room shifted as the other men laughed and jeered, oblivious to the tension building between you and Bob. You held his gaze, a small, confident smile playing on your lips as you slowly uncrossed your legs under the table, letting your dress ride up slightly, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of thigh.
Bob's eyes darkened with desire as he watched the hem of your dress inch higher. He leaned in conspiratorially to Jake and Bradley, "You know what? I think I'm gonna go find my wife now." With a wink, he stood abruptly, casually adjusting his jeans to hide his growing erection as he walked past the table. As he passed you, his hand deliberately brushed against your arm, sending a shiver down your spine. The other men watched him go, still laughing and betting that he was just making up a girlfriend.
Bob waited for you in the dimly lit hallway, his heart racing with anticipation. When he heard the click of your heels on the floor, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into a nearby supply closet. Slamming the door shut, he pushed you against it, his body pressed firmly against yours.
"They think I'm full of shit," he growled, his breath hot against your neck. "They think I don't have a woman at home waiting for me." His hands gripped your hips possessively, pulling you against his growing hardness. "So, let me ask you, sweetheart. Do I have a wife at home?"
You looked up at him, your eyes blazing with dominance. "Yes," you whispered, running a finger down his chest. "You have a wife at home." You pushed him back slightly, taking control of the situation, your voice firm and authoritative. "And she's right here, isn't she?"
Bob's breath hitched, his eyes never leaving yours. He let you push him back, his hands falling to his sides in a show of submission that was clearly turning him on even more. You could see the bulge in his jeans growing more prominent, straining against the fabric.
"And does my wife ever fuck me like this in public?" he asked hoarsely, his voice laced with desire and a hint of desperation. He knew the answer already, but hearing it from you would only drive him wilder.
"No," you murmured seductively, your voice dripping with authority and promise. "But she will tonight." You grabbed his hand and pressed it firmly against your thigh, letting him feel how wet you were through your panties. "I'm going to make sure everyone knows you're taken."
Bob groaned quietly, his fingers digging into your thigh as he felt your dampness. He was rock hard now, aching to be inside you. "Fuck," he breathed out, his forehead resting against yours. "I need to get back out there before they get suspicious."
He adjusted himself discreetly, trying to hide his massive hard-on. You watched him walk back to the table, his jeans tight around his ass, a smug smile on your face. You saw Jake laugh and say, "There goes the biggest man-whore in America." You smirked mischievously, knowing the truth.
Bob sat back down, trying to act casual as he adjusted his jeans again. The other men continued their banter, oblivious to the intense sexual tension that had just played out in the closet. Jake leaned over and slapped Bob on the back. "Still no girlfriend in sight, huh?"
Bob laughed it off, but you could see the heat in his eyes as they flicked towards you momentarily before he turned back to his friends. "Yeah," he said with a smirk that only you could understand was meant for you alone. "She'll be coming soon enough."
The conversations continued, filled with crude jokes and bragging about their conquests. But Bob couldn't focus on anything but the promise of later, his gaze lingering on you every so often. Finally, the night began to wind down and the men started to leave. Jake was the last to go.
As Jake walked out, Bob turned to you immediately, his hand reaching out to grab your arm and pull you back into the closet before anyone else could see. He kissed you roughly this time, all the pent-up frustration and desire from the evening pouring into it. "My house," he growled against your lips, his voice leaving no room for argument.
He led you out of the bar, his hand firmly gripping your ass as he guided you to his car. The drive to his house was filled with heated kisses and groping hands, the tension between you both palpable. As soon as they were inside, Bob slammed the door shut and pinned you against it, his mouth devouring yours with a hunger that left you breathless.
"Fuck," he muttered, breaking the kiss to lift you up suddenly. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and he carried you to his bedroom, kissing and biting along your neck and collarbone, marking you as his. He tossed you onto the bed roughly, making you bounce. You laughed softly until he captured your mouth again in a deep, passionate kiss.
He started undressing you slowly, his touch reverent and possessive, exploring every inch of your body as he revealed it. When you were down to your panties, he spread your legs and buried his face between your thighs, licking and sucking on your clit through the thin fabric, making you moan loudly and buck your hips against his mouth.
He hooked his fingers into your panties and slowly pulled them down, revealing your wet, glistening pussy. He licked a long stripe up your slit, tasting your arousal with a groan of approval. "So fucking wet for me," he growled, before diving back in with his tongue, eating you out relentlessly until you were screaming his name, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm.
"Look at this pretty pussy," he said hoarsely, spreading your lips apart to reveal your sensitive clit, glistening with your juices. He began to fuck you with his fingers, curling them upward to hit that perfect spot inside you, making your toes curl and your back arch off the bed. "No wonder your husband can't keep up," he smirked, watching your tits bounce as he pounded his fingers into you.
"That's it, baby. Scream for me," he said, continuing his brutal pace, adding another finger to stretch you wider, preparing you for what was to come. He leaned down to suck on your clit, sending you over the edge again, your pussy clenching around his fingers as he kept them moving, drawing out your orgasm until you were begging for mercy.
He pulled his fingers out and sucked them clean, savoring your taste with a satisfied smirk. "I've been wanting to fuck you all night," he said, unbuckling his belt, his cock already rock hard and dripping with precum, straining to be released. He stroked himself slowly, his eyes locked on your face, watching your reactions.
"You want this big cock inside you?" He grabbed your thigh and pulled you to the edge of the bed roughly, his voice a low growl of desire. "Answer me." His tip teased your entrance without pushing in, making you whimper with need. "Yes," you begged. "Fuck yes. I need you inside me."
He slammed into you in one brutal thrust, filling you completely, stretching you to your limit. You gasped loudly, your back arching off the bed, your nails digging into his back, urging him on. He was big - bigger than your husband by far, and it felt incredible.
He started pounding into you immediately, his hips snapping forward harshly, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room. "Shit," he grunted, his hands gripping your hips tightly enough to leave bruises, claiming you as his. "You feel so fucking good."
His hips moved in a relentless rhythm, the bed shaking with the force of his thrusts, your breasts bouncing wildly. "Take this cock," he growled, leaning over to bite your neck hard enough to leave a mark, claiming you as his. "You're mine tonight."
"God, your pussy is perfect," he groaned, reaching under to slap your ass hard, the sound echoing through the room. "No wonder your husband married a slut like you." He hit that spot inside you again and again, making you scream, your body on fire with pleasure.
"Is this what he can't give you? Big, thick dick?" he panted, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he neared his climax. He pulled out suddenly and flipped you over, yanking your hips up roughly. "Gonna fill this cheating pussy up," he said, slamming back in and pounding you even harder from behind, his hips moving like a piston, his balls slapping against your clit with each thrust.
"Take it, you slut," he hissed, grabbing your hair and pulling your head back painfully, his voice a low growl in your ear. "Take my big load inside you. Let me knock you up."
He started coming hard, his hot cum shooting deep into your pussy, filling you completely. He continued to fuck you through his orgasm, his hips moving in short, sharp bursts, milking every last drop of his release into you.
He pulled out slowly, watching his semen leak out of your well-used pussy, a satisfied smile on his face. "Jesus," he muttered, spanking your ass again, leaving a red handprint on your flesh. "No condom," he realized suddenly, a wicked glint in his eye. "Do you do this with every guy you meet?" He laughed softly, "No wonder your husband's not enough."
He stood up, his cum still dripping from your pussy, marking you as his. He grabbed his phone and took a picture of you lying on the bed, your legs spread and his cum leaking out, a trophy of his conquest. "I'll keep this," he said, tucking his phone away before leaving the room without another word, leaving you sated and satisfied, a smug smile on your face, knowing that you'd proven a point.
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You're strolling across the base, the sun beating down on your shoulders, but the heat is nothing compared to the warmth that spreads through you as Bob's arm wraps around your waist, pulling you into his side. Your laughter fades into a soft smile as you lean into him, feeling the solidness of his body against yours. His hand, large and strong, rests on your hip, fingers splaying possessively as he guides you through the crowd.
As you walk, Bob's thumb begins to trace lazy circles on your hip bone, the touch sending shivers down your spine. You can feel his breath on your neck, warm and inviting, and it takes everything in you not to turn and capture his lips with yours right there in the open. His other hand reaches up, wrapping lightly but firmly around the back of your neck, his thumb brushing gently under your ear. The casual dominance in his touch makes your breath catch in your throat, your heart pounding in your chest like a drum.
"You’re mine," he mutters, his voice low and husky, sending a wave of desire crashing through you. You can feel the possessiveness in his touch, in his words, and it only serves to ignite a fire within you. You turn your head slightly, your lips brushing against his ear as you whisper back, "Prove it."
Bob's grip tightens, his body pressing more firmly against yours as he steers you towards a nearby abandoned hangar. The moment you're out of sight, he pushes you gently but firmly against the cool metal wall, his body caging yours in. His lips crash down on yours, hungry and demanding, his tongue exploring your mouth with a fervor that leaves you breathless.
Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as you kiss him back with equal passion. His body presses against yours, and you can feel his hardness through his pants, sending a thrill of anticipation through you. You wrap a leg around his hip, pulling him closer still, wanting to feel all of him.
Bob's hands roam your body, squeezing and exploring, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He pulls away from your lips, his breath ragged as he trails kisses down your neck, his stubble rough against your sensitive skin. You gasp as he nips at your collarbone, his hands finding their way under your shirt, his calloused fingers sending shivers of pleasure across your skin.
"You're so fucking perfect," he growls against your skin, his voice sending vibrations through your body, heightening your senses. You arch into his touch, wanting more, needing more.
His hands find their way to your breasts, squeezing and teasing through your bra, your nipples hardening under his touch. You moan, your head falling back against the wall as he continues his onslaught of sensations. He pulls down the cup of your bra, his thumb brushing over your sensitive nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.
"You like that, don't you?" he murmurs, his voice dark and dangerous. You can only nod, your breath coming in short gasps as he continues to tease and torture you. He leans down, taking your nipple into his mouth, sucking and biting gently, his hand squeezing your other breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers.
You're a mess of sensations, your body on fire, your mind hazy with desire. You reach down, your hand wrapping around his hardness through his pants, squeezing gently. He groans, his head falling forward to rest on your chest as you stroke him through the fabric.
"Fuck," he mutters, his voice strained. "You're playing with fire."
You smile, your hand stilling as you look down at him, your voice a sultry purr. "I want to get burned."
With a growl, he lifts you, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you further into the hangar, his mouth never leaving yours. He lays you down on a stack of blankets, his body covering yours as he continues to devour you. His hands are everywhere, touching, teasing, driving you wild.
You reach for his belt, fumbling with the buckle in your haste to get him naked. He helps you, his body shaking with anticipation as he sheds his pants, his boxers, his shirt, until he's as naked as you are. You take a moment to admire his body, all hard lines and corded muscle, his cock standing proud and ready.
He leans down, his forearms on either side of your head as he kisses you deeply, his body pressing against yours. You can feel his hardness against your thigh, and you wrap your leg around his hip, pulling him closer, wanting to feel him inside you.
"Bob," you whisper, your voice breathless with need. "Please."
He reaches down, positioning himself at your entrance, his eyes locked on yours as he pushes in slowly, inch by inch, filling you completely. You moan, your head falling back, your eyes fluttering closed as you savor the feeling of him inside you.
He starts to move, his hips rolling in a slow, steady rhythm that has you climbing higher and higher with each thrust. His body is slick with sweat, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he looks down at you, his eyes filled with a hunger that matches your own.
"You feel so fucking good," he growls, his voice strained with effort. "So tight, so wet."
You moan, your nails digging into his back as you urge him on, your body meeting his thrust for thrust. The hangar is filled with the sounds of your lovemaking, your moans and his grunts of pleasure echoing off the metal walls.
Bob reaches between you, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing and teasing as he continues to move inside you. Your body tenses, your breath coming in short gasps as you climb higher and higher, your orgasm building with each stroke.
"Come for me," he murmurs, his voice dark and commanding. "Let me feel you come undone around me."
With a cry, you do, your body shattering into a million pieces as your orgasm crashes over you, your inner muscles clenching and releasing around him. He groans, his body tensing as he finds his own release, your name a whispered prayer on his lips.
He collapses on top of you, his body slick with sweat, his breath coming in ragged gasps. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you both come down from your high, your bodies still joined as one.
"That was…incredible," you whisper, your voice hoarse with use.
He lifts his head, a lazy smile spreading across his face as he looks down at you, his eyes filled with a warmth that makes your heart flutter. "You're incredible. And you're mine."
You smile back, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his back as you hold him close, content and sated. "Yours," you agree, your voice soft with love. "Always yours."
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The clatter of cutlery and the hum of conversation filled the air as the group enjoyed a lively meal together. You were in the middle of a joke, your face lit up with amusement, when suddenly, someone across the table decided to turn the tables on you.
"Oh, come on," they teased, a smirk playing on their lips. "You can't be serious. That's just—"
Before you could formulate a response, a calm, yet icy voice cut through the banter like a knife. "She doesn’t need to prove anything to anyone. Especially not you."
The table fell silent, all eyes turning to Bob, who had spoken with an authority that brooked no argument. His gaze was steady, his expression neutral, but there was an underlying current of protection in his words that was impossible to miss.
You felt a rush of gratitude and a slight flush of embarrassment. You hadn't expected such a firm intervention, but it was undeniably satisfying to have someone stand up for you so decisively.
Bob turned his attention to you, his demeanor softening almost imperceptibly. He reached beneath the table, his hand finding your knee and giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. "You alright?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble meant only for your ears.
You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "I'm fine, Bob. Thank you."
His hand lingered on your knee for a moment longer before he withdrew it, but the warmth of his touch remained, a comforting reminder of his support. The table slowly returned to its previous state of lively chatter, but the atmosphere had shifted subtly. There was a newfound respect in the eyes of those who had witnessed Bob's protective interruption.
As the meal continued, you couldn't help but steal glances at Bob, feeling a mix of appreciation and something deeper, something more intimate. His calm demeanor and steadfast support had created a moment of clarity amidst the chaos of the group dynamic. You knew, without a doubt, that he had your back, and that knowledge was both empowering and strangely intimate.
Later, as the evening wound down and the group began to disperse, Bob leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. "Always remember, you don't owe anyone an explanation or a defense. Especially not when they're just looking for a reaction."
You turned to him, your eyes meeting his with a depth of emotion you hadn't expected. "Thank you, Bob. For everything."
He smiled, a rare and genuine curve of his lips that made your heart skip a beat. "Anytime. That's what I'm here for."
As you left the meal together, arm in arm, you felt a sense of security and belonging that was both new and profoundly comforting. Bob's protective interruption had done more than just silence a tease; it had reinforced an unspoken bond between you, a promise of support and understanding that transcended words.
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You're on your knees, your heart pounding like a drum in your chest as you look up at them, your eyes wide with a mix of fear and arousal. You can see the cruel smile playing on their lips, their eyes gleaming with a dark, intense hunger.
"You fucking sadist," you whisper, your voice shaking. "You horrible person."
They lean down, their breath hot on your ear as they whisper back, "That's right, baby. I am. And you love it."
You feel their hand tangling in your hair, gripping tightly as they tilt your head back, exposing your neck. You can feel their other hand, tracing patterns on your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
"Y-you're going to make me-" you start, but your words are cut off as they tighten their grip on your hair, a sharp sting shooting through your scalp.
"Yes, baby," they murmur. "I am. And you're going to take it. Every. Single. Inch."
You can feel the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, the fear and anticipation coiling in your stomach. You're scared, so scared, but you can't deny the wetness between your legs, the way your body betrays you, aching for their touch.
"Please," you whimper. "Please, don't-"
"Don't what, baby?" they interrupt, their voice a low, dangerous growl. "Don't make you feel good? Don't make you scream? Don't make you beg for more?"
You can feel your body shaking, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. You're so close, so close to the edge, and they know it.
"Yes baby keep talking I'm close." they say, their voice laced with a cruel, mocking tone. "I want to hear you beg. I want to hear you scream."
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The library is quiet, the only sound the soft rustling of pages and the occasional creak of old wood. Lewis Pullman, the dom, sits in a large, comfortable chair, his submissive partner nervously perched on his lap. The sub's heart races as they feel the bulge beneath them, their voice trembling as they ask, "B-but, will it hurt?"
Lewis grins, a mischievous glint in his eye as he lifts the sub's dress, exposing their bare thighs. He slowly pulls down their panties, the fabric sliding down their legs and pooling on the floor. "No, baby," he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. "You're just keeping me warm. It won't hurt if you don't move."
The sub's breath hitches as they feel Lewis's length press against their entrance. "S-sir, it's too big," they whisper, their voice shaking with a mix of fear and anticipation.
Lewis leans in, his lips capturing the sub's neck in a gentle kiss. "Just sit down, it'll be fine, doll," he whispers, his hands gripping the sub's hips, pulling them down slowly onto his lap. The sub gasps, their eyes widening as they feel themselves stretch around him.
Lewis's hand covers the sub's mouth, muffling their moans. "Very good, baby," he praises, his voice a low rumble. "Now, go back to studying."
The sub blinks, their mind foggy with the sudden intrusion. They reach for their book, their hands shaking as they try to focus on the words. Lewis's other hand trails up their spine, soothing and possessive, as he begins to move gently beneath them, his hips lifting in a slow, deliberate rhythm. The sub's cheeks flush, their breath coming in short gasps as they try to concentrate on their studies, the room filled with the soft sounds of their combined efforts—a secret, forbidden symphony in the heart of the quiet library.
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