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"until my lips fall off." bob reynolds.

summary: bob always gets in these moods where he always needs to be touching something. the team have started calling it his ‘touchy-time’, but they don’t know the extent of bob’s neediness when it comes to you. today’s touchy-time happens right before valentina's mandatory team dinner.

prompt: you don’t make it to dinner 🌶️

pairing: bob reynolds x thunderbolts!reader

word count: 3.1k

content contains: +18 content— smut. secret relationship lets go, wall sex lets go, neck kissing lets go, bob is super needy and touchy lets fucking go, manhandling(?)letsgo

authors note: day six of galentines collab!! the concept of male ovulation 🧠 he’s like a little funky boy dog that goes around humping anything and everything he sees. that’s the vibe i’m going for. can you tell. also this has been in my drafts forever and ive wanted to write for it but never got around to it. hurrah for clearing out my wips!!

erin's galentines collab masterlist

no one could remember exactly when bob stopped being mopey and started getting more touchy-feeling with you.

it hadn't been sudden, nor had there been a single moment where the team could think back to a certain time and say 'that's when it started'. it was subtle enough that he'd managed to slip under the radar until it became something that nobody could ignore.

it started with bob inching closer to you on the couch when the two of you were watching movies. then it escalated to holding your hands at random points in time even if you needed them, and in that case, his hand would fall to your thigh instead. at one point, he'd managed to convince you to let him into your bed by blaming it on the void, and stupidly enough, you'd let him.

at first, it had been a joke between the team because it was honestly a little funny to see bob clinging onto you like a puppy, but sooner down the line, the touch turned into something needier, and that's the part that the two of you hid from them.

the touch turned sexual, and even though you both knew it was wrong doing this with someone who is essentially a coworker, you could never stop— or more like bob could never stop.

maybe it was because he had taken a liking to you. you'd been nothing but kind and accomodating to him since you first met him in that bunker (apart from when you'd shoved your gun in his face). whenever he sensed he was falling apart, he gravitated towards you, and you'd always let him. you had assumed he had just wanted to stick around that kimd of energy when everybody else on the team had turned a blind eye to him.

of course there were days when bob could keep his hands to himself, but he had found that if he stayed away for long enough, his hands— restless and searching— always seemed to settle easier when they found you.

and unfortunately for you and the team, today seemed to be one of those days where he'd restrained himself from touching you.

valentina had organised a mandatory team-building dinner in order to... well, team-build. she practically demanded that everyone get dressed up to the nines and that the jet would pick them up and drop them off at some fancy restaurant halfway across the country.

you linger in your room longer then you mean to, smoothing down the wrinkles and creases in your black dress like it might change its mind about how it's sitting on your body if you dont reassure it enough.

you almost never wear this dress and only wear it for special occasions, and you counted this as one. it fit nicely almost like it was made specifically for you, it skimmed down your body just enough to make you stand a little taller as you look at your reflection. you look really good.

you slip on your heels, tuck your phone into your purse, and give yourself one final look in the mirror— more for courage than vanity— before heading out of your room and shutting the door.

the living room is quiet apart from the boring show on the television and the click of your heels as you walk across the marble floor. the entire team is there scattered across the sofas in their fancy attire like a bunch of overdressed mannequins.

jackets are unbuttoned, ties are loosened, makeup is already a little smudged, some are scrolling on their phones, others are staring at the television screen. they all just look like they're reconsidering every life choice that'd led them here.

the first thing you notice is that bob isn't there.

yelena is the first to turn her head. her eyes fall up and down you a few times before she throws an arm across the back of the sofa. "you look nice." she compliments, and it sounds genuine.

"thanks. it's a bit itchy, but it's comfortable enough for one night." you tug at the fabric that'd bunched at your hips after your short venture down the hall. "you guys look nice too. maybe we should start dressing up more often."

bucky shakes his head, eyes set on the tv. "i'd rather not."

john looks around the room at the team, brows raised as he takes in the mixed of bored expressions and sluggish bodies. "is that all of us? can we finally get off of our asses and get going?"

"eh, bob is not here yet." alexei points out.

"speaking of bob—" bucky turns his head to you, "did you manage to talk to him about limiting touchy-time like we talked about?"

"i cant believe we call it touchy-time." ava mumbles as she stares at the television screen, more to herself than anyone else.

"i tried during training yesterday," you scratch the back of your neck. "but he kept changing the subject. didn't seem like he wanted anything to do with it, so i stopped asking."

"have you ever considered telling him to stop completely? i mean seriously, imagine when he gets sentry under control and valentina clears him for missions." john gestures to nothing in general, hand waving around like it's helping the team visualise it. "kid's gonna be humping your leg like a horny chihuaha while we're getting shot at—"

yelena cuts in with a groan of disgust, "gross, walker. nobody wants to imagine that."

bucky sighs, "i hate to say it, but i agree with john."

ava turns away from the screen, suddenly tuned into the conversation. "me too. do you ever think he just comes up with excuses because he wants to get all touchy-feely with you? i know he's a little... unstable, but how many times can he use the excuse of the void to fondle you all day?"

"he doesnt—" you blink, a little shocked at ava's use of words. "he doesnt fondle me. he just needs a little attention sometimes. that's all." you try to defend yourself as well as bob, but it seems to fall upon deaf ears.

"attention turns into obsession." john adds as if he's a wise old wizard. "i read that online once."

alexei decides its his turn to add his input. "i think its very sweet! is like little puppy and mama dog. if no lines are crossed, then i think those two should be allowed to have touchy-feely time."

you cringe at alexei comparing you and bob to dogs before you huff out a sigh. "can we not talk about bob behind his back? it feels rude. where is he anyways?"

"no idea." yelena shrugs. "we're all out here because we were waiting on you and him."

john checks his watch, one certainly gifted to him by valentina. "yeah, and we're gonna be late if he doesn't haul ass within the next ten minutes."

you glance down the hall, your eyes fixed on bob's door. it remains shut just like it has been all day, and a small knot of concern ties itself in your stomach. something about him being late doesn't settle well with you. you know his routine and his moods, and you know that when he's unusually quiet like this, then it means he's fighting something.

"i'll go check on him." you say, already turning towards the corridor, "make sure he's not dead."

"and tell him to hurry his ass up!" john calls behind you.

you don't bother responding. you turn and head down the hallway, the echo of your heels on the tile bouncing off of the walls while the noise of the living room fades as you move. you come face to face with bob's door, your hand hesitating before you knock, but your knuckles hit the wood three times anyways.

"bob? are you in the—"

the door opens and you're yanked inside by a sharp tug on your wrist before you can finish your sentence, the corridor disappearing as the door shuts behind you.

the first thing you notice is that bob is in front of you and he's sandwiched you between the wall, his mouth already working against yours. the next thing you notice is that his hands are already pulling up your dress, the fabric bunching in his hands as he drags it up.

you break away for air, but bob doesn't take a second for granted. he latches onto your throat and he inhaled a sharp breath that sounds like a mix of relief and indulgence, as if kissing you in the only thing keeping his alive.

"i'm sorry." he whispers into your skin, but you both know the apology won't stick. "sorry—"

his room is quiet apart from his heavy breathing and the small pants that he pulls from you, the light dim through closed curtains and the red glow of his alarm clock. you can still hear the soft chatter of the team down the hall, and it pulls the urgency from deep within you.

you place your hands flat on his chest. he doesnt pull away, but he doesn't push any further either, caught in the miserable in-between where restraint is costing him. you can feel his heartbeat through his chest where your palms rest, pounding and restless with you in his arms.

you frown, "the team is waiting for us, bob—"

but the words barely leave your mouth before he's shaking his head, brown curls brushing against your neck and the underside of your jaw.

"i know they are. i'm sorry, baby. i tried to stay away. i really did," he murmurs against your throat, apologies spilling out of his mouth although his teeth nipping at your skin says otherwise. "but please— i need you."

bob's hands are already tugging down your panties, thumbs hooked in the bands as he drags them down your legs, and although everything in you is screaming to pull him off of you and rush him out of the door, your body moves on its own, stepping out of the fabric as soon as it drops to your feet.

"val's going to eat us alive if we don't make it to dinner." you whimper when he sucks at the base of your neck, hands crawling at the back of his dress shirt.

"then let her. i'll be quick. been holding it in all day, but i cant do it anymore." he groans as his lips travel back up until he's pressing messy kisses onto your jaw and your cheek. "jus' need to feel you on my cock. need to feel you cum on me."

that sends a pant of heat through you.

your brows knit. he really has been good all day— no hovering by your side, no excuses to linger, and no absent minded touches— but now you can feel the cost of it in the way he's undoing his belt and in the way he's so hungry for you that you think he might actually bite you, and you know that you cannot let him go to dinner like this.

"okay." you sigh with a small nod, your hands crawling up to his neck and slotting into the soft brown tuft of hair at the base of his head, "then fuck me."

the groan that rips form his throat and low, and he unbuckles his belt faster than he ever has before. he rips it from his dress pants and it clatters to the floor in a stringy mess. then come his pants, the zipper already undone as he shrugs them and his boxers to the ground.

bob's hands hook under your thighs and he hoists you up against the wall, his weeping cock pressing against you with a pathetic whimper.

he's learnt that even without the sentry, he has enough strength to lift you like you weigh nothing. he's even learnt that he can lift you with one hand. dont ask him how.

his lips are back on yours, his tongue lapping messily against your mouth before you let him in. the kiss is a little rough around the edges like he's forgotten how to be careful with you, all heat and urgency as he breaths you in. you're sure your makeup is all smudged, but you don't really care now that the blunt tip of bob's dick is pressing into you.

and when he finally pushes in,

"fuuuuuccckkkk..." he moans, a little too loud for your liking.

"bob, you have to be—" you cut yourself off with a staggered breath as bob drops you down onto him deep enough that you can feel him in your stomach. "you have to be quiet."

"i'm sorry, it's just— i missed you." his brows furrow in pleasure, his head dropping back down to your neck. "god, you're so tight."

you sigh, "it's been two days."

"too long." he murmurs into your neck. "never wanna be apart from you ever again."

bob starts moving slow, holding onto you by your thighs and rutting his hips into you like he's trying to make sure that your body remember him. his chest is pressed so tight against yours that you almost feel like you can't breathe, and your arms are wrapped around his torso clinging for more.

just as you think he might be savouring the moment, he lifts you without warning and drops you back onto his dick. the sheer force of it rips a moan from your mouth, catching you so off guard that you bite down into his shoulder, your saliva soaking the fabric.

bob pants into your ear, eyes heavy with pleasure. "needed this so bad. needed you. needed to fuck you."

bob doesnt rut into you anymore. instead, he begins lifting you up and down his cock, shuddering in your arms as he drags against your warm walls. the pace he sets is fast enough for the echo of skin-on-skin to bounce around the room, the angle and the pressure of which he has you against the wall hits all of the soft spots in you. your eyes almost roll back, body practically going limp in his arms.

one of his hands come up to cup your face, thumb running along your bottom lip and his eyes watching every quiver in your expression. his other hand continues lifting you and dropping you onto his dick, his fingers digging into your skin with every harsh bounce.

"i heard you talking to the team about our arrangement— about whatever this is—" he admits quietly, eyes set on your saliva coated mouth. "i know it's bad and i know we shouldn't do this."

"bob." you try to cut him off, arms tightening around his neck in an attempt to ground him, but he continues, panicked and a little earnest.

"so just— just tell me to stop and i'll stop—" he rushes, his brows furrowing as he speeds up, his hips bucking up into you, "say the word and i will, i swear. i'll back off and i'll behave, i—"

"faster."

the word leaves your mouth as a whisper, soft and broken and honest, and that seems to be what undoes bob.

his hand falls back to the underside of your thigh and lifts your legs a little higher until your hamstrings burn and your knees are pressing into your chest. he's not bouncing you anymore, but now he's fucking up into you, his cock tearing through you like this is all he needs.

you grab at him, hoping to hold onto something that'll ground you, but he's so strong and so steady that you don't even need to. he's holding you so tight in his arms that you're sure he'd catch you if you were to fall, and that in itself has the ball of heat in your stomach ready to snap.

but then there's a knock at his door only a feet feet from you, and even though it pulls you from your daze, bob continues dragging you his cock in and out of you as if one of your friends isn't right outside.

"hey, you guys in there?" yelena's voice spills through the quiet, "john's getting all pissy with us, so we're leaving."

you have to force a hand over bob's mouth, his moans and panting spilling into your palm, and you feel a little bad when you see the tears that brim in his waterline. your brows knit as you force your eyes to stay open, willing yourself to keep focus when bob can't.

"bob isn't feeling good, so i think—" you swallow down a moan when bob thrusts into you hard enough that your clit grinds into his lower stomach. "i think we're just gonna stay back so i can take—" you gasp, "take care of him."

and maybe bob understands your words as an excuse to fuck him all night long, because his eyes shut and he gets a little closer, hips grinding into your ass instead of fucking you. you've noticed this as a tell that he's close, and the friction is enough to send you over the edge too.

"okaayyyy..." she drawls through the door. "your funeral. we'll be back in a few hours. dont burn the tower down. or do. i dont care."

you can hear yelena's footsteps recording down the hall, and as soon as you move your hand from his mouth, bob starts pistoning into you with inhumane speed, his head dropping onto your shin as he presses into you and finally fills you up.

the sound of his hopeless rutting turns filthy with the combination of your slick and his cum, and he leans in to press another messy kiss to your mouth. your chests move together, and the room falls silent except for the soft sounds of your breathing— his uneven and yours still catching— paired with the quiet thud of his heart.

and the first thing that comes out of his mouth isn't a reassurance or a apology, but a question.

"does that mean you don't want to stop?" he asks, his voice low with uncertainty and what sounds like hope, almost like he's bracing for the answer even though he knows what it is.

your smile as best you can, already tired. your fingers run through his hair, tugging at the soft knots you'd accidentally formed before you speak.

"of course not." you say quietly, "i know the team complains about it sometimes, but that's not something they get to complain about. i dont think its a problem that needs fixing."

the hope in his expression warms your heart. he exhaled like he's been holding his breath all day before he leans into your touch like he's finally allowed to. but then, slowly but surely, you feel his dick harden inside you again.

"are you hard again?" you ask with false annoyance lacing your words, but you could never actually be annoyed with him.

he plays it off by giving you a small peck on the lips, the top of his nose brushing yours as he leans his forehead against yours. "maybe."

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