𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠’𝐬 𝐎𝐟𝐟 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐁𝐨𝐛: 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞
Summary: Bob has been acting different. You intend to find out why.
Warnings: (MDNI 18+) Fem!Reader, No Use Of Y/N, Blow Job, Sex Club, Smut, Dirty Talk
A/N: It’s been a hot minute since I have written smut so I hope it’s passable. Let me know tho.
WC: 6k
Series Masterlist
Something was off with Bob.
He was acting strange somehow.
More secretive. More Suspicious.
You've gotten used to his many moods and behaviours since living together at the Watchtower. In fact with how many of the members of the team were trained to basically not feel shame you knew far too much about some of them.
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.
Chapter One done Edited 5/7/25
