TALK TO ME…about BUCKY BARNES! CHALLENGERS! BOB REYNOLDS! LUKE CASTELLAN! or anyone rlly im a slut
THIS IS…an 18+ blog! mature content ahead and tagged where appropriate!
♱
MASTERLIST
REQ RULES: ask me about any character, chances are i could be into them too! i will write pretty much anything except a few topics so don’t be afraid to ask if you’re unsure about sending in a request! i do mainly smut but do dabble in fluffy stuff too :)
being taken from the streets by a fellow demigod except they don’t take you to camp half blood, they take you to this cushy cruise ship called the princess andromeda.
they introduce you to their leader, luke castellan, who smirks cheekily at you and tells you all about his movement against the gods.
“i have a feeling that you’re going to fit in here.”
going on little missions for him, moving up in his ranks until you’re practically his second in command.
finding him in the state room one day, and he’s fuming.
i’m talking a jawbone clenching, chest heaving sort of anger.
maybe percy thwarted him again. maybe kronos was giving him attitude. that didn’t matter.
what mattered was that at least you were there — his second in command, ready to do whatever he wanted to help him relax. you would listen to him always.
and so when he tells you in that authoritative, leader of an army voice to take off your shirt, you do. when he tells you to take off your pants — ah, ah, slowly — you do.
and when he bounds over, wraps his hands around your thighs and hitches you up onto the nearest desk, you are more than ready to meet his lips with yours. your moan is a weak whisper in his ear when he pulls you by your asscheeks and presses his crotch against the thin fabric of your panties. it breaks into something louder when he bites down on your collarbone, and then the space between your neck and shoulder.
you sigh when his fingers run gently over the lacy edges of your underwear before pulling them to the side and letting the air reach your already wet pussy.
“always ready for me, huh?”
then he’s messily taking his own jeans off, unzipping them halfway before he looses patience and yanks them down to his thighs, pulling his cock out of his underwear — the red tip leaking precum and making your mouth water.
his thrusts are angry, his huffs and groans echoing around the room. you’re sure the guards at the door can hear you, but neither of you care.
you come once, twice — before he is tightening his grip and finishing inside you. he cleans you up, pulls you down, and sends you off with a smack to the ass and a chuckle.
summary: you haven’t exactly been given a quest, but you’ve made it your personal mission to get luke castellan to smile even just a little bit.
content: its the fourth of july weekend, and everyone else seems to have a date to the fireworks show but you.
notes: i am back hos. i actually cant believe its been over a year since my last sunny!verse update that is on me yall i am Sorry! but were so back and better than ever i fear. heres some cutesy fluff for you to make up for it!!! also revived the old taglist so some of the users could be wrong etc, just comment to be added/removed/readded <3
IV.II — THE FOURTH OF JULY INTERLUDE
Just under a month ago, you were picking strawberries with Henry Furstatt and muttering ironically into the opeN air, “Being a demigod is easy work.”
Oh how wrong you were.
Because as you would later learn, being a demigod is everything but easy. Being a demigod who’s father was the King of Olympus — and who had vowed to never have kids again? Even harder.
You’d been claimed only three weeks ago and already was Chiron making you do extra training — Just in case, he says, even though the prophecy explicitly states that the kid would destroy Olympus when they turn sixteen. You were well past that point, but he still made you do it.
Luke was more than happy to force you out of bed at the crack of dawn; you having moved cabins not holding him back even a little bit. You didn’t have any siblings to bunk with, so more often than not did he use his expertise in picking locks to his advantage. You hated it, but you were also getting very good at the whole demigod thing, so really you should thank him.
(You aren’t going to).
But after weeks of questioning, gruelling training days, nonstop workouts and practice, it was finally time to wind down. Because it was the fourth of July weekend!
Evie had proudly informed you earlier in the week that every year on the fourth, the Hephaestus kids create this amazing firework show that they put on over the beach. There were snacks, drinks (non alcoholic, but only if Chiron asked), and games. It was the one night a year they were allowed to stay up past curfew, and it was a pretty big deal.
“Still ignoring him, I see.” Evie’s face was full of blank amusement as she watched you wipe embers off of your front door.
You huffed. It was a daily thing, your dad striking the door to your cabin in the hopes that you’d give him a call, or a visit. It was getting annoying, “Yeah. You’d think the King of the Gods would be more busy nowadays.”
The Ares girl snorted, shaking her head and linking your arms. It was a nice day — early July was always nice, apparently. Apollo’s favourite time of the year — and you had agreed to a girly day with Evie, Clarisse, Lana and Nini the water Nymph who had caught you and Luke wading through her pond. It hadn’t taken a lot of convincing to get Luke to let you have the day off, since the boy had seemed a bit preoccupied himself this week. You hadn’t questioned his odd behaviour, because he was always odd.
The girls were gathered in the forest, set up nicely on a picnic blanket beside Nini’s pond. Clarisse was munching on a strawberry and Lana was washing the freshly cut grass (Hades knows who did that, because it wasn’t on the activity sheet) from her bare feet in the water. Nini didn’t seem to mind, smiling dreamily at the scenery. It was ripe in the summer, the rays shooting off the edge of her pond and cascading all around them — truly, a gorgeous sight.
When you and Evie caught their eyes, there was an echo of heys and sit downs that prompted you to join the three of them on the ground. Immediately Clarrise was complaining about one of her siblings and Evie was joining in with a roll of her eyes – apparently, they thought it would be very Ares Kid of them to train one of the pegasi to attack the Apollo kids. Obviously that did not work, and now the very Apollo kids they swore to prank were refusing to treat their pegasus-inflicted wounds.
“Yeah, Dean is all kinds of asshole.”
Lana frowned at the newfound information, “It was Dean?” Clarisse nodded in confirmation, “Dammit. He was gonna be my date to the fireworks show.”
“Why?” Evie snorted, “Dude’s a loser.”
But Lana just shrugged, “He asked me a couple days ago and nobody else was gonna…can’t go alone, can I?”
You leaned in, brows pulled together, “I’m sorry, we’re supposed to have dates for this thing?” The girls nodded, even Nini was looking at you like it was obvious. You were lost, “But it’s a…fireworks show.”
“And it’s the only event that gives us the opportunity to actually go on a date.” Evie clarified, pursing her lips, “It’s not like we have a camp prom.”
You straightened, “Oh.”
“You look worried.” Lana observed.
“It’s okay.” Clarisse tried to comfort you, hand on your shoulder, “You’ll find someone.”
You weren’t worried, not really. You had just imagined relaxing back on a blanket with your friends and watching some fireworks. Maybe Luke could socialise for once – at least, that was the plan. Maybe not anymore, if everyone had dates. “Who are you guys going with?”
“Chris.”
“Well, I was supposed to be going with Dean but…”
“Sabine.”
That last one got you, and you snapped your head in Evie’s direction, “Sabine? Daughter of Nike, Sabine?”
“Yeah.” She smiled sort of whimsically, and it freaked you all out, “She asked me yesterday and well…she is hella beautiful, so.” A shrug.
“And violent.” Lana deadpanned.
“Angry at the world.” You offered, but Evie just shook her head.
“She’s amazing, isn’t she?”
You weren’t nervous before. In fact, you were more carefree than you had been since before you got claimed — no pressure to train, just a nice weekend of relaxing. But now you were stressed all over again, because you needed a date? By tomorrow? At school you always had a plan for those sorts of things – ask the nice guy who sits next to you in Chem, or the girl on the basketball team who you let use your parking spot whenever you weren’t in. At a camp with significantly less people to choose from and therefore more chance for people to notice when you go alone? A whole new ballpark. The last minute of it all didn’t help very much. Everyone else already had one, who was there for you to even ask?
“I don’t see the problem.” Nini said, all confused, “Don’t you have a boyfriend?”
An awful thing to say, really, because the girls erupted.
They didn’t think, they just went straight to the teasing. You thought they were being very dramatic about the whole thing – shaking your arms, oooing cheekily at you with smirks and overall behaving like middle school children. You just hid your growing smile at their antics and pushed them away, “Alright, calm down. I do not have a boyfriend.”
“Then who, my dear lightning summoner, is Nini talking about?” You narrowed your eyes at Evie's evil look. She just raised both brows, silently opening the question to the whole group.
“Lee?”
“Travis?”
“Evan?”
“Perchance.”
“You can’t just say perchance.”
“Guys – ” You tried to stop their rambled suspicions with a pair of raised hands. They ignored you, turning their gazes to the girl that started it all.
Nini shrunk back at the attention, looking suddenly sheepish and shrugging, “I just thought when you and Luke were here the other week that –”
Oh gods.
“Oh!”
“Castellan, you say?” Lana smirked, and you fought the urge to slap it right off.
“Cuddling up with the counsellor, Sparky?” Evie feigned scandalization, hand on chest, “How blasphemous.”
You blanked her, “I was not cuddling up with Luke, we were just looking for my baseball.”
“Nini?” Clarrise asked once more, “Can you confirm?”
The water nymph, poor girl, clearly did not enjoy all the spotlight she suddenly had. If she could blush, you were sure she would, but you didn’t need to see her cheeks tinge red to know that she was a little embarrassed about sharing such information. She just shrugged, “They were laughing and stuff…”
The girls just got giddier at that – Luke Castellan, laughing? Unheard of!
Well, that part was certainly true. And although your friends were only teasing, upping the dramatics because that’s what friends did, you started to think. Luke wasn’t your boyfriend – just the thought of it sent something new flurrying in your gut, but he was your best friend. He was the person closest to you at camp and the more you thought about spending the fireworks show with anyone else, the more you wanted to just sit and watch them with Luke like you thought you were going to. Was that so wrong?
Well, it would be if Luke had a date of his own. You hadn’t discussed the whole thing with him yet but sue you for thinking he had nobody else – you were the only person he spoke to most days. Although, he had been making some changes lately…maybe he did have a date. But the thought of that – you didn’t feel like exploring the feelings that it conjured up.
So it was decided – you would just go with Luke.
(If he was free.
No he is. He has to be.)
Screw the norm, just because these kids didn’t get dates outside of camp didn’t mean you had to get one for a silly firework show. They could do as they pleased, and so could you!
Except when you found Luke later that day, sat up against a tree and fiddling with something in his hands that you couldn’t see, you suddenly felt all nervous about your proposal. Would Luke even want to watch them with you, or would he much prefer to follow what everyone else had been doing the whole time and get a real date? Maybe you shouldn’t ask –
Too late, he was looking at you. Smiling at you with that tiny quirk of his lips that only you could catch, nodding his head and inviting you over.
You went, grinning like usual at him and sitting just before him, sun beating on your back and casting a glow around you that you couldn’t see. But Luke could, from his spot in the shade. He found it very telling. You softened your grin into a smile, “Hey. Haven’t seen you today, what’ve you been up to?”
He shook his head, “Nothing, really.”
He was lying. You tilted your head, gestured to where his hands were hidden in his lap, “What’s that, then?”
He dropped his gaze, tightened his jaw because you had caught him. To an onlooker, he was irritated, angry like usual. But you saw the crinkles in his cheek, around his eyes – the smile lines that were barely there but there nonetheless. He looked back at you, brown eyes piercing your soul, and lifted his hands. In his grip was a beanie, knitted in soft yarn in your favourite shade. He handed it to you, “Here.”
You took it gently, almost disbelieving, as if it would disappear the moment you held it too tight, “You…did you knit this?”
“Yes.” He squinted, cheeks a light shade of pink.
You glanced at him, mouth parting, “You knit?”
It was his turn to chuckle, a light sound you only heard on good days, shaking his head at himself like he should’ve known that you’d be more interested in the fact that he could knit rather than the gift he’d made for you, “Yeah. Self-taught.”
That last bit was spoken with an air of arrogance you only saw in him whenever he was training you. You dropped your hands, beanie still between them, and focused all your attention on his amused look, “You can knit and you never told me?!”
“I don’t…” He shrugged, careless, and you wanted to punch him for keeping such a thing from you, but you saw his growing grin and decided against it. He was too pretty to punch.
You ended up just shaking your head in faux-disappointment, tucking the beanie to your chest and squinting at him, “Well, thank you. It’s very soft.” Then, a little quieter, “Maybe I could wear it to the firework show on the beach.”
Luke perked up a little then, but it was so unnoticable that you could’ve been imagining it. He looked at you, thinking, then said, “It won’t be cold enough for that.”
“Oh.” You looked down, then up, then down. Up one more time, “Are you going to that?”
Luke took a deep breath in, eyes drifting everywhere but you, “Well…I wasn’t going to, but now I think I might.”
“Oh.” You said again. You felt stupid. “Apparently we’re supposed to have dates or something.” You followed your attempt at diverting the conversation with a weak chuckle and suddenly the conversation felt like how it was when you first met. It unnerved you, but Luke just nodded.
“Yeah.” He said, “The year-rounders don’t get real dates and everyone else usually skips their proms and stuff…’cause of monsters.”
“That’s fair.” You muttered. Oh, gods, what was wrong with you? Why did you feel all nervous like you were trying to ask him out? Just say it, he’ll understand. “I might just go with you.”
His head snapped up, “What?”
“That is if you – if you aren’t already going with someone else.” You stammered out, twisting the beanie in your hands to distract them, “Because that totally makes sense, obviously –”
“No, I’ll go with you,” He interrupted, sort of smiling, “Better than being all awkward with a date you don’t know.”
“Yeah.” You were glad he agreed. The relief was immediate, and any loud beatings of your heart were silenced when he leant back against the bark and started talking about the shitshow that was Travis and Conor trying to ask some Demeter girls out earlier that day.
Everything was fine, you thought as you said your goodbyes so he could go teach a beginners sword lesson. Everything was fine, you exuded through your easy smile at Evan when he made himself known just as Luke was walking away.
“Secured a date with Castellan.” He nodded, impressed, “I was gonna ask you, but…fair play. No hard feelings.”
“What?” You laughed, shaking your head a little too hard, “No, we’re just going as friends. We’re not even really going together like that, y’know? We just…will happen to be hanging out there. That's all.”
“Uh,” He too seemed to chuckle, although it felt like he was laughing at you, rather than with, “Not what it sounded like.”
“What?”
“I’m just..I mean, I could be reading it wrong.” He shrugged, looking down at you, “But to me that sounded like you were asking him to be your date.”
Did it? You didn’t feel like it did, but the more you thought back on it, the less sure you became.
Ok. This was fine, you were fine. Who cared what Evan thought? You knew what you were trying to say, Luke knew too.
Right?
Right.
Right?
“Ok, don’t hate on it just yet because it needs the jacket but…” Evie did a spin, “What do we think? No? Yes?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.” Lana grinned, leaning back on Zeus’ pedestal without a care in the world. As an unclaimed kid, she was one of the first of your friends to really accept that you didn’t care who your dad was — she didn’t either.
The other girls were more than ready to accept your cabin as the getting ready spot for the fireworks show, since it was pretty much empty all of the time. You had been more than accepting; the more teenage girl stuff strewn around the place, the less it reminded you of the fact that you’d been forgotten and abandoned.
“Chris asked me to incorporate yellow into my outfit.” Clarisse twisted her expression, “I hate yellow.”
“Says the girl currently putting yellow laces into her shoes.”
“Shut up.”
And the girls. They also helped you forget about your deadbeat father. And Luke, he did too.
Luke, who was not your date to the show. Just a companion. Someone to sit with when the girls were off with their dates. Alone. But as friends.
“Hey, guys?” Your gaze was firmly on the hem of your white dress when you spoke, sitting up on the pedestal of that stupid statue you wished you could get rid of. Maybe you’d ask a couple of Hephaestus kids to help haul it into the trash.
“What’s up?” Evie responded gently, Lana and Clarisse giving you their undivided attention when they caught your words.
“Say hypothetically, I asked Luke to hang out with me at the fireworks show.” You looked up at them then — them and their sick grins and evil eyes, “And hypothetically, he’d said yes. Would that mean that he’s my date…or that we’re just going as friends?”
The three girls shared a look. Then Lana took a breath in, “Hypothetically, did you ask him as a friend or as a date?”
“Hypothetically, I never specified.” You winced, “But my intention was to ask him as a friend! Hypothetically.”
“Well…hypothetically, you’re going on a date with Luke Castellan.”
“What? Clarisse!”
She shrugged, “I don’t know what to tell you. Everyone knows you get a date to the fireworks show. Intention or not, you’ve got a date.”
“But…” You stammered, rubbing your arms to relieve yourself of the goosebumps.
“Do you not want to go on a date with Luke?” Evie asked, “I mean, I know we tease you but…you guys are pretty close.”
“And hella cute.” Lana finished, looking up from where she was doing her mascara, “Plus, you’re the first person he really spoke to after his whole funk, so there’s gotta be a connection there.”
You didn’t reply, unsure of what to say, so Evie clicked her tongue, “If you’re that worried about it, ask him. He’ll be understanding, this is Luke we’re talking about here.”
She was right. Who were you to be scared to talk to Luke? It was only a few months ago that he was too scared to talk to anybody, until of course you swooped in to save the day. If anything, he should be the one scared. Not you. You could talk to him. Easy peasy.
“You haven’t talked to him, have you?”
Okay. Evie was right — in your defence, when the four of you had reached the beach and scattered off to find your respective dates (or not dates. That was still to be confirmed), it took you a minute to actually find Luke. And when you did, he was standing with Conor and Travis on one side of the beach, and you didn’t exactly want an audience when you popped your question.
So you waited until you were alone, sat comfortably against an old overturned boat a little ways away from the crowd of campers but close enough that you guys didn’t look like you were having some alone time. But then Luke started talking about what he’d done since you’d last seen each other before you could get a word in, and then he told you there was a snack table somewhere and you couldn’t say no to that.
“And now I’m here. So no, I haven’t asked him.” You explained before promptly stuffing your mouth with a mini sausage roll. Your eyes deceived you, however, the panic in them was evident even when you were chewing.
“You don’t have to ask him.” She said then, looking at you in slight concern, “Obviously. If you’re cool with never knowing whether this was a date or not. And I know that you’re not, so…”
You swallowed your roll, “I have to ask him.”
“So why haven’t you?” She said, “I mean when you first met Luke, you straight up told him to quit his emo act, so I know you’re not shy. You’re a badass, you're the daughter of Zeus. You’re not afraid to ask Luke a silly little question. Are you?”
“No. You’re right, I’m not.” As if suddenly remembering who the Hades you were, you gave Evie a firm nod and turned swiftly back to where you were sitting. Storming over as effectively as you could — meaning not at all, since it’s almost impossible to get a good stomp going when you’re walking on sand, but the intention was there — and levelling Luke with a stare.
He looked up at you, “Hey. Sit down, the fireworks are gonna start.”
“Is this a date?” You said then.
Luke froze slightly, brows furrowing. His cheeks tinged slightly red, “Uh. What?”
“Don’t play with me, Castellan. You know this camp better than I do. Everyone brings a date to this thing.” You cocked your hip, “So when I asked you earlier, did you assume we were going as dates?”
“That’s a…” He pushed himself up to stand, “Complicated question.”
“Is it?”
“Well, did you ask me as a date?”
You huffed, “Not originally, no.”
“Originally?” He squinted. You hated that his ego was coming back. Why couldn’t he go back to the quiet emo kid he was when you met? Then you’d have some form of power over him. Curse your bubbly personality bringing him out of his shell!
“Well, yeah.” You dropped your crossed arms with a sigh, “But then Evan told me that it sounded different and the girls said I basically did ask you out so I got confused. Now I’m asking you.”
“You’re asking me…” He started, “…to tell you what you meant when you asked me to go to this with you?”
“I….Yes.” You nodded firmly.
Luke chuckled, and you fought back a smile with your tongue. You always liked hearing him laugh, even when you were trying to be tough. It was just so pretty to look at, even when he was laughing at you.
He stepped closer to you, “You’re stressing yourself out over nothing, Sunny. I mean, does it matter if we’re on a date or not?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Because dates mean something.” You said quietly, “Don’t they?”
“Not with these guys.” He nodded to the rest of the campers, all of them sitting with their own dates. As you looked at them, you realised that none of them were having those first-date-awkward-conversations that most people had at dances and proms. None of them were fumbling to throw an arm around each other, or red in the face trying to move closer. Now that you were really looking, they just seemed…comfortable. Relaxed. Chilling with a friend, if anything. It started to make a little bit of sense to you then. “These people just date so they can say they’ve dated. It doesn’t really mean anything unless they make it mean something.”
“Oh. Yeah.” You looked back at him.. “Still. It’s a little different with us, right?”
“How d’you mean?” He asked. He knew what you meant, but he guessed he wanted to hear you say it. Get that confirmation that you thought it too.
“I guess…I mean, it’s me and you. It’s us. I don’t wanna sound conceited but, we’re a lot different than, say, Travis and Laura.” You laughed then, gesturing to him. “I think that if we went on a date, no matter what, that would mean something. Don’t you?”
“I do.” He nodded firmly, eyes set on you with a look that was too serious for Luke.
You swallowed, “So…are we on a date?”
He took a breath in, thinking, “Well, do you wanna be?”
You laughed, “Do you wanna be?”
“Yes.”
You stopped laughing, “Oh.”
“But if you don’t then, we won’t.” He shrugged, sitting back down on the sand, “Whatever you say.”
“W—Well…” You put your hands on your hips, attempting to regain your composure, “Uh, I do too.”
“Cool.” He smiled up at you, “So we’re on a date.”
“I guess we are.”
He kept smiling, “You gonna sit down?”
“I am.” You nodded firmly and seriously, but your attempts at a tough composure melted away the second your eyes were level with his once more. He chuckled a little bit before turning back to the shoreline, just in time for the fireworks to start.
The show was gorgeous. You were in awe at the beauty of it all — the combined efforts of the Apollo and Hephaestus kids really was an underrated force. You watched the explosion of colours, leaned into Luke and wondered how you had ever been stressed about speaking to him.
All in all, it was a good night. You just hoped it could be this way all the time.
🏷️ @katherines-imagines @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry @jennapancake @cobaltskiez @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @m00ng4z3r @mischiefmoons @woodlandwrites @tsireyasgf @theo-notts-doll @iammightsadyall @svnny-days @fennecswife @csifandom @evilwrongdoer @blueberryjune @dancing-inasnowglobe @acidaciruela @solshaven @rosieandthethorns @sofiacblair @obxstiles @lukecastellanirl (this tag list is over a year old so pls comment if you need re-adding or removing!! love u)
summary: you haven’t exactly been given a quest, but you’ve made it your personal mission to get luke castellan to smile even just a little bit.
content: its the fourth of july weekend, and everyone else seems to have a date to the fireworks show but you.
notes: i am back hos. i actually cant believe its been over a year since my last sunny!verse update that is on me yall i am Sorry! but were so back and better than ever i fear. heres some cutesy fluff for you to make up for it!!! also revived the old taglist so some of the users could be wrong etc, just comment to be added/removed/readded <3
IV.II — THE FOURTH OF JULY INTERLUDE
Just under a month ago, you were picking strawberries with Henry Furstatt and muttering ironically into the opeN air, “Being a demigod is easy work.”
Oh how wrong you were.
Because as you would later learn, being a demigod is everything but easy. Being a demigod who’s father was the King of Olympus — and who had vowed to never have kids again? Even harder.
You’d been claimed only three weeks ago and already was Chiron making you do extra training — Just in case, he says, even though the prophecy explicitly states that the kid would destroy Olympus when they turn sixteen. You were well past that point, but he still made you do it.
Luke was more than happy to force you out of bed at the crack of dawn; you having moved cabins not holding him back even a little bit. You didn’t have any siblings to bunk with, so more often than not did he use his expertise in picking locks to his advantage. You hated it, but you were also getting very good at the whole demigod thing, so really you should thank him.
(You aren’t going to).
But after weeks of questioning, gruelling training days, nonstop workouts and practice, it was finally time to wind down. Because it was the fourth of July weekend!
Evie had proudly informed you earlier in the week that every year on the fourth, the Hephaestus kids create this amazing firework show that they put on over the beach. There were snacks, drinks (non alcoholic, but only if Chiron asked), and games. It was the one night a year they were allowed to stay up past curfew, and it was a pretty big deal.
“Still ignoring him, I see.” Evie’s face was full of blank amusement as she watched you wipe embers off of your front door.
You huffed. It was a daily thing, your dad striking the door to your cabin in the hopes that you’d give him a call, or a visit. It was getting annoying, “Yeah. You’d think the King of the Gods would be more busy nowadays.”
The Ares girl snorted, shaking her head and linking your arms. It was a nice day — early July was always nice, apparently. Apollo’s favourite time of the year — and you had agreed to a girly day with Evie, Clarisse, Lana and Nini the water Nymph who had caught you and Luke wading through her pond. It hadn’t taken a lot of convincing to get Luke to let you have the day off, since the boy had seemed a bit preoccupied himself this week. You hadn’t questioned his odd behaviour, because he was always odd.
The girls were gathered in the forest, set up nicely on a picnic blanket beside Nini’s pond. Clarisse was munching on a strawberry and Lana was washing the freshly cut grass (Hades knows who did that, because it wasn’t on the activity sheet) from her bare feet in the water. Nini didn’t seem to mind, smiling dreamily at the scenery. It was ripe in the summer, the rays shooting off the edge of her pond and cascading all around them — truly, a gorgeous sight.
When you and Evie caught their eyes, there was an echo of heys and sit downs that prompted you to join the three of them on the ground. Immediately Clarrise was complaining about one of her siblings and Evie was joining in with a roll of her eyes – apparently, they thought it would be very Ares Kid of them to train one of the pegasi to attack the Apollo kids. Obviously that did not work, and now the very Apollo kids they swore to prank were refusing to treat their pegasus-inflicted wounds.
“Yeah, Dean is all kinds of asshole.”
Lana frowned at the newfound information, “It was Dean?” Clarisse nodded in confirmation, “Dammit. He was gonna be my date to the fireworks show.”
“Why?” Evie snorted, “Dude’s a loser.”
But Lana just shrugged, “He asked me a couple days ago and nobody else was gonna…can’t go alone, can I?”
You leaned in, brows pulled together, “I’m sorry, we’re supposed to have dates for this thing?” The girls nodded, even Nini was looking at you like it was obvious. You were lost, “But it’s a…fireworks show.”
“And it’s the only event that gives us the opportunity to actually go on a date.” Evie clarified, pursing her lips, “It’s not like we have a camp prom.”
You straightened, “Oh.”
“You look worried.” Lana observed.
“It’s okay.” Clarisse tried to comfort you, hand on your shoulder, “You’ll find someone.”
You weren’t worried, not really. You had just imagined relaxing back on a blanket with your friends and watching some fireworks. Maybe Luke could socialise for once – at least, that was the plan. Maybe not anymore, if everyone had dates. “Who are you guys going with?”
“Chris.”
“Well, I was supposed to be going with Dean but…”
“Sabine.”
That last one got you, and you snapped your head in Evie’s direction, “Sabine? Daughter of Nike, Sabine?”
“Yeah.” She smiled sort of whimsically, and it freaked you all out, “She asked me yesterday and well…she is hella beautiful, so.” A shrug.
“And violent.” Lana deadpanned.
“Angry at the world.” You offered, but Evie just shook her head.
“She’s amazing, isn’t she?”
You weren’t nervous before. In fact, you were more carefree than you had been since before you got claimed — no pressure to train, just a nice weekend of relaxing. But now you were stressed all over again, because you needed a date? By tomorrow? At school you always had a plan for those sorts of things – ask the nice guy who sits next to you in Chem, or the girl on the basketball team who you let use your parking spot whenever you weren’t in. At a camp with significantly less people to choose from and therefore more chance for people to notice when you go alone? A whole new ballpark. The last minute of it all didn’t help very much. Everyone else already had one, who was there for you to even ask?
“I don’t see the problem.” Nini said, all confused, “Don’t you have a boyfriend?”
An awful thing to say, really, because the girls erupted.
They didn’t think, they just went straight to the teasing. You thought they were being very dramatic about the whole thing – shaking your arms, oooing cheekily at you with smirks and overall behaving like middle school children. You just hid your growing smile at their antics and pushed them away, “Alright, calm down. I do not have a boyfriend.”
“Then who, my dear lightning summoner, is Nini talking about?” You narrowed your eyes at Evie's evil look. She just raised both brows, silently opening the question to the whole group.
“Lee?”
“Travis?”
“Evan?”
“Perchance.”
“You can’t just say perchance.”
“Guys – ” You tried to stop their rambled suspicions with a pair of raised hands. They ignored you, turning their gazes to the girl that started it all.
Nini shrunk back at the attention, looking suddenly sheepish and shrugging, “I just thought when you and Luke were here the other week that –”
Oh gods.
“Oh!”
“Castellan, you say?” Lana smirked, and you fought the urge to slap it right off.
“Cuddling up with the counsellor, Sparky?” Evie feigned scandalization, hand on chest, “How blasphemous.”
You blanked her, “I was not cuddling up with Luke, we were just looking for my baseball.”
“Nini?” Clarrise asked once more, “Can you confirm?”
The water nymph, poor girl, clearly did not enjoy all the spotlight she suddenly had. If she could blush, you were sure she would, but you didn’t need to see her cheeks tinge red to know that she was a little embarrassed about sharing such information. She just shrugged, “They were laughing and stuff…”
The girls just got giddier at that – Luke Castellan, laughing? Unheard of!
Well, that part was certainly true. And although your friends were only teasing, upping the dramatics because that’s what friends did, you started to think. Luke wasn’t your boyfriend – just the thought of it sent something new flurrying in your gut, but he was your best friend. He was the person closest to you at camp and the more you thought about spending the fireworks show with anyone else, the more you wanted to just sit and watch them with Luke like you thought you were going to. Was that so wrong?
Well, it would be if Luke had a date of his own. You hadn’t discussed the whole thing with him yet but sue you for thinking he had nobody else – you were the only person he spoke to most days. Although, he had been making some changes lately…maybe he did have a date. But the thought of that – you didn’t feel like exploring the feelings that it conjured up.
So it was decided – you would just go with Luke.
(If he was free.
No he is. He has to be.)
Screw the norm, just because these kids didn’t get dates outside of camp didn’t mean you had to get one for a silly firework show. They could do as they pleased, and so could you!
Except when you found Luke later that day, sat up against a tree and fiddling with something in his hands that you couldn’t see, you suddenly felt all nervous about your proposal. Would Luke even want to watch them with you, or would he much prefer to follow what everyone else had been doing the whole time and get a real date? Maybe you shouldn’t ask –
Too late, he was looking at you. Smiling at you with that tiny quirk of his lips that only you could catch, nodding his head and inviting you over.
You went, grinning like usual at him and sitting just before him, sun beating on your back and casting a glow around you that you couldn’t see. But Luke could, from his spot in the shade. He found it very telling. You softened your grin into a smile, “Hey. Haven’t seen you today, what’ve you been up to?”
He shook his head, “Nothing, really.”
He was lying. You tilted your head, gestured to where his hands were hidden in his lap, “What’s that, then?”
He dropped his gaze, tightened his jaw because you had caught him. To an onlooker, he was irritated, angry like usual. But you saw the crinkles in his cheek, around his eyes – the smile lines that were barely there but there nonetheless. He looked back at you, brown eyes piercing your soul, and lifted his hands. In his grip was a beanie, knitted in soft yarn in your favourite shade. He handed it to you, “Here.”
You took it gently, almost disbelieving, as if it would disappear the moment you held it too tight, “You…did you knit this?”
“Yes.” He squinted, cheeks a light shade of pink.
You glanced at him, mouth parting, “You knit?”
It was his turn to chuckle, a light sound you only heard on good days, shaking his head at himself like he should’ve known that you’d be more interested in the fact that he could knit rather than the gift he’d made for you, “Yeah. Self-taught.”
That last bit was spoken with an air of arrogance you only saw in him whenever he was training you. You dropped your hands, beanie still between them, and focused all your attention on his amused look, “You can knit and you never told me?!”
“I don’t…” He shrugged, careless, and you wanted to punch him for keeping such a thing from you, but you saw his growing grin and decided against it. He was too pretty to punch.
You ended up just shaking your head in faux-disappointment, tucking the beanie to your chest and squinting at him, “Well, thank you. It’s very soft.” Then, a little quieter, “Maybe I could wear it to the firework show on the beach.”
Luke perked up a little then, but it was so unnoticable that you could’ve been imagining it. He looked at you, thinking, then said, “It won’t be cold enough for that.”
“Oh.” You looked down, then up, then down. Up one more time, “Are you going to that?”
Luke took a deep breath in, eyes drifting everywhere but you, “Well…I wasn’t going to, but now I think I might.”
“Oh.” You said again. You felt stupid. “Apparently we’re supposed to have dates or something.” You followed your attempt at diverting the conversation with a weak chuckle and suddenly the conversation felt like how it was when you first met. It unnerved you, but Luke just nodded.
“Yeah.” He said, “The year-rounders don’t get real dates and everyone else usually skips their proms and stuff…’cause of monsters.”
“That’s fair.” You muttered. Oh, gods, what was wrong with you? Why did you feel all nervous like you were trying to ask him out? Just say it, he’ll understand. “I might just go with you.”
His head snapped up, “What?”
“That is if you – if you aren’t already going with someone else.” You stammered out, twisting the beanie in your hands to distract them, “Because that totally makes sense, obviously –”
“No, I’ll go with you,” He interrupted, sort of smiling, “Better than being all awkward with a date you don’t know.”
“Yeah.” You were glad he agreed. The relief was immediate, and any loud beatings of your heart were silenced when he leant back against the bark and started talking about the shitshow that was Travis and Conor trying to ask some Demeter girls out earlier that day.
Everything was fine, you thought as you said your goodbyes so he could go teach a beginners sword lesson. Everything was fine, you exuded through your easy smile at Evan when he made himself known just as Luke was walking away.
“Secured a date with Castellan.” He nodded, impressed, “I was gonna ask you, but…fair play. No hard feelings.”
“What?” You laughed, shaking your head a little too hard, “No, we’re just going as friends. We’re not even really going together like that, y’know? We just…will happen to be hanging out there. That's all.”
“Uh,” He too seemed to chuckle, although it felt like he was laughing at you, rather than with, “Not what it sounded like.”
“What?”
“I’m just..I mean, I could be reading it wrong.” He shrugged, looking down at you, “But to me that sounded like you were asking him to be your date.”
Did it? You didn’t feel like it did, but the more you thought back on it, the less sure you became.
Ok. This was fine, you were fine. Who cared what Evan thought? You knew what you were trying to say, Luke knew too.
Right?
Right.
Right?
“Ok, don’t hate on it just yet because it needs the jacket but…” Evie did a spin, “What do we think? No? Yes?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.” Lana grinned, leaning back on Zeus’ pedestal without a care in the world. As an unclaimed kid, she was one of the first of your friends to really accept that you didn’t care who your dad was — she didn’t either.
The other girls were more than ready to accept your cabin as the getting ready spot for the fireworks show, since it was pretty much empty all of the time. You had been more than accepting; the more teenage girl stuff strewn around the place, the less it reminded you of the fact that you’d been forgotten and abandoned.
“Chris asked me to incorporate yellow into my outfit.” Clarisse twisted her expression, “I hate yellow.”
“Says the girl currently putting yellow laces into her shoes.”
“Shut up.”
And the girls. They also helped you forget about your deadbeat father. And Luke, he did too.
Luke, who was not your date to the show. Just a companion. Someone to sit with when the girls were off with their dates. Alone. But as friends.
“Hey, guys?” Your gaze was firmly on the hem of your white dress when you spoke, sitting up on the pedestal of that stupid statue you wished you could get rid of. Maybe you’d ask a couple of Hephaestus kids to help haul it into the trash.
“What’s up?” Evie responded gently, Lana and Clarisse giving you their undivided attention when they caught your words.
“Say hypothetically, I asked Luke to hang out with me at the fireworks show.” You looked up at them then — them and their sick grins and evil eyes, “And hypothetically, he’d said yes. Would that mean that he’s my date…or that we’re just going as friends?”
The three girls shared a look. Then Lana took a breath in, “Hypothetically, did you ask him as a friend or as a date?”
“Hypothetically, I never specified.” You winced, “But my intention was to ask him as a friend! Hypothetically.”
“Well…hypothetically, you’re going on a date with Luke Castellan.”
“What? Clarisse!”
She shrugged, “I don’t know what to tell you. Everyone knows you get a date to the fireworks show. Intention or not, you’ve got a date.”
“But…” You stammered, rubbing your arms to relieve yourself of the goosebumps.
“Do you not want to go on a date with Luke?” Evie asked, “I mean, I know we tease you but…you guys are pretty close.”
“And hella cute.” Lana finished, looking up from where she was doing her mascara, “Plus, you’re the first person he really spoke to after his whole funk, so there’s gotta be a connection there.”
You didn’t reply, unsure of what to say, so Evie clicked her tongue, “If you’re that worried about it, ask him. He’ll be understanding, this is Luke we’re talking about here.”
She was right. Who were you to be scared to talk to Luke? It was only a few months ago that he was too scared to talk to anybody, until of course you swooped in to save the day. If anything, he should be the one scared. Not you. You could talk to him. Easy peasy.
“You haven’t talked to him, have you?”
Okay. Evie was right — in your defence, when the four of you had reached the beach and scattered off to find your respective dates (or not dates. That was still to be confirmed), it took you a minute to actually find Luke. And when you did, he was standing with Conor and Travis on one side of the beach, and you didn’t exactly want an audience when you popped your question.
So you waited until you were alone, sat comfortably against an old overturned boat a little ways away from the crowd of campers but close enough that you guys didn’t look like you were having some alone time. But then Luke started talking about what he’d done since you’d last seen each other before you could get a word in, and then he told you there was a snack table somewhere and you couldn’t say no to that.
“And now I’m here. So no, I haven’t asked him.” You explained before promptly stuffing your mouth with a mini sausage roll. Your eyes deceived you, however, the panic in them was evident even when you were chewing.
“You don’t have to ask him.” She said then, looking at you in slight concern, “Obviously. If you’re cool with never knowing whether this was a date or not. And I know that you’re not, so…”
You swallowed your roll, “I have to ask him.”
“So why haven’t you?” She said, “I mean when you first met Luke, you straight up told him to quit his emo act, so I know you’re not shy. You’re a badass, you're the daughter of Zeus. You’re not afraid to ask Luke a silly little question. Are you?”
“No. You’re right, I’m not.” As if suddenly remembering who the Hades you were, you gave Evie a firm nod and turned swiftly back to where you were sitting. Storming over as effectively as you could — meaning not at all, since it’s almost impossible to get a good stomp going when you’re walking on sand, but the intention was there — and levelling Luke with a stare.
He looked up at you, “Hey. Sit down, the fireworks are gonna start.”
“Is this a date?” You said then.
Luke froze slightly, brows furrowing. His cheeks tinged slightly red, “Uh. What?”
“Don’t play with me, Castellan. You know this camp better than I do. Everyone brings a date to this thing.” You cocked your hip, “So when I asked you earlier, did you assume we were going as dates?”
“That’s a…” He pushed himself up to stand, “Complicated question.”
“Is it?”
“Well, did you ask me as a date?”
You huffed, “Not originally, no.”
“Originally?” He squinted. You hated that his ego was coming back. Why couldn’t he go back to the quiet emo kid he was when you met? Then you’d have some form of power over him. Curse your bubbly personality bringing him out of his shell!
“Well, yeah.” You dropped your crossed arms with a sigh, “But then Evan told me that it sounded different and the girls said I basically did ask you out so I got confused. Now I’m asking you.”
“You’re asking me…” He started, “…to tell you what you meant when you asked me to go to this with you?”
“I….Yes.” You nodded firmly.
Luke chuckled, and you fought back a smile with your tongue. You always liked hearing him laugh, even when you were trying to be tough. It was just so pretty to look at, even when he was laughing at you.
He stepped closer to you, “You’re stressing yourself out over nothing, Sunny. I mean, does it matter if we’re on a date or not?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Because dates mean something.” You said quietly, “Don’t they?”
“Not with these guys.” He nodded to the rest of the campers, all of them sitting with their own dates. As you looked at them, you realised that none of them were having those first-date-awkward-conversations that most people had at dances and proms. None of them were fumbling to throw an arm around each other, or red in the face trying to move closer. Now that you were really looking, they just seemed…comfortable. Relaxed. Chilling with a friend, if anything. It started to make a little bit of sense to you then. “These people just date so they can say they’ve dated. It doesn’t really mean anything unless they make it mean something.”
“Oh. Yeah.” You looked back at him.. “Still. It’s a little different with us, right?”
“How d’you mean?” He asked. He knew what you meant, but he guessed he wanted to hear you say it. Get that confirmation that you thought it too.
“I guess…I mean, it’s me and you. It’s us. I don’t wanna sound conceited but, we’re a lot different than, say, Travis and Laura.” You laughed then, gesturing to him. “I think that if we went on a date, no matter what, that would mean something. Don’t you?”
“I do.” He nodded firmly, eyes set on you with a look that was too serious for Luke.
You swallowed, “So…are we on a date?”
He took a breath in, thinking, “Well, do you wanna be?”
You laughed, “Do you wanna be?”
“Yes.”
You stopped laughing, “Oh.”
“But if you don’t then, we won’t.” He shrugged, sitting back down on the sand, “Whatever you say.”
“W—Well…” You put your hands on your hips, attempting to regain your composure, “Uh, I do too.”
“Cool.” He smiled up at you, “So we’re on a date.”
“I guess we are.”
He kept smiling, “You gonna sit down?”
“I am.” You nodded firmly and seriously, but your attempts at a tough composure melted away the second your eyes were level with his once more. He chuckled a little bit before turning back to the shoreline, just in time for the fireworks to start.
The show was gorgeous. You were in awe at the beauty of it all — the combined efforts of the Apollo and Hephaestus kids really was an underrated force. You watched the explosion of colours, leaned into Luke and wondered how you had ever been stressed about speaking to him.
All in all, it was a good night. You just hoped it could be this way all the time.
🏷️ @katherines-imagines @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry @jennapancake @cobaltskiez @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @m00ng4z3r @mischiefmoons @woodlandwrites @ma1dita @tsireyasgf @theo-notts-doll @iammightsadyall @svnny-days @fennecswife @csifandom @evilwrongdoer @blueberryjune @dancing-inasnowglobe @acidaciruela @solshaven @rosieandthethorns @sofiacblair @obxstiles @lukecastellanirl (this tag list is over a year old so pls comment if you need re-adding or removing!! love u)
i am just saying fans of the sunnyverse should definitely get to refreshing their minds with this because jackie and wilson is back the fourth of july interlude will be out TONIGHT!!
ALSO!! anyone who wasnt on the tag list before and wishes to be pls comment so i can update it in time for the new parts <33
summary: as the assistant to the thunderbolts, you never really interacted with bob. but that didn’t mean he wasn’t there, watching.
content: perv!bob, but maybe perv!reader too? wink wink. slight stalking…18+ content mdni! dry humping, reader and bob match each other’s freak, reader wears heels but no other mention of a particular presenting gender, bob is insane and you love it.
word count: 3.6k
notes: this has been in the works for a whiiile hehe, i beg that you enjoy because i spent way too long on this. love you guys thanks for being patient <3 also a smooch to anyone who knows where my header is from hehe
*The New Avengers Tower had one hundred and three floors, and Bob Reynolds had explored maybe five of them.
It wasn’t his fault! He still had little control over his powers, and it had been highly advised by Valentina that he stuck to the areas of the building only *The New Avengers could go. The training rooms, the apartments, the kitchen and living areas etc. He was allowed to go to the conference rooms downstairs for mission briefings with the others if he so liked, but he never did.
Well, unless you were going to be there.
You see, two months into their stay at the Tower, Valentina had made an announcement to the team that she would be bringing in an assistant for them — someone to handle the boring admin stuff while they focused on the hero stuff. And since Bob didn’t do any of that, he’d never gotten the chance to interact with you.
He sure had heard about you, though. It wasn’t as if the team raved about you or anything, but Bob liked to consider himself fairly observant — so when he would hear Yelena thanking god under her breath that you were around whenever she was particularly stressed, or Ava asking Walker quietly if he’d seen you anywhere, or even Bucky telling Alexei that he’d have to deal with your wrath if he skipped that week’s campaign dinner instead of his (and seeing Alexei silently decide he’d better attend that dinner, then), he figured you were pretty good at your job.
It was autumn when he met you for the first time. He had been playing chess with himself in one of the empty meeting rooms — hiding from Yelena, who was trying to get him to come to one of Valentina’s parties that weekend — when the rest of the team burst into the room and settled around the table.
“Bob!” Alexei had bellowed, taking a seat at the table with everyone else “You come on mission with us?”
“Oh, uh…no.” He’d stammered, clumsily moving his board out of the way, “I was just hanging out here…I can — I’ll leave.”
“No need.” Valentina’s voice was sharp when she finally entered in, strutting to the head of the table to start her meeting. And behind her, was you.
Bob thought you were really pretty. But when you caught his eye coming in and sent him a kind smile, he thought it looked ethereal.
He was a goner from there.
He hadn’t listened to a word Valentina had said in that meeting, not that he needed to. And from then on out, he invited himself down to every team briefing he could just so he could silently watch you stand behind Val while she spoke and hand out mission files to his teammates one by one around the table. Every time, he would wait patiently for you to pass him — and instead of giving him a file, you’d give him a glimpse into your eyes and a kind upturn of your lips. Bob would take that over a mission brief any day of the week.
He had also taken to joining Yelena on her morning routine in which she did her own check-in on the admin staff to ensure Valentina wasn’t up to anything they weren’t aware of (and so she could make coffee in the office staff room, which apparently tasted way better than the stuff they had upstairs).
“You were right.” He’d said when she finally questioned him on his sudden change of heart, trying to be as convincing as possible, “I need to get out more. I’m still a member of the team, like you said.”
Lena had just raised a single brow and walked off, and Bob took that as a win. He had no time to think about it anyway because there you were; sitting behind your desk and typing at your laptop with the cutest furrow in your brow he’d ever seen.
He was proud of himself. All year, his therapist had been encouraging him to find a hobby; something to do so he wasn’t wallowing in self-pity whenever his friends were too busy on missions or in training. He’d tried a few things – knitting, baking, graphic design..but nothing had been as fulfilling as watching you from the back of a meeting, and following Yelena around the office floors for an hour just for that split-second glimpse of you in your office that he thanked god had glass walls.
At first, that’s all it was. A couple of looks every now and then, Bob always too shy to glance for too long at once in fear you’d notice. But then, slowly, it progressed. Over time, the brief peeks became full-on stares. There was that one occasion you wore a skirt that was shorter than usual, and he tripped over a coffee cart trying to get a second look. He very nearly glanced at the cleavage that was peeking through your top when you leaned over John’s shoulder to pass him his file – he didn’t, but became slightly distraught when he saw Walker take a not-so subtle look himself. That wasn’t allowed. You weren’t for John to look at.
You sure were his to look at, he thought. He just didn’t realise how obvious his looks were until one day when Bucky left your office after talking to you, he stopped beside Bob and said, “That’s the slowest I’ve ever seen a man make a cup of coffee. You in a rush, Bob?”
Bob jumped, spilling some milk on his shirt and quickly putting the paper cup back down on the tray in favour of patting himself dry, “W–What? I was just…making…coffee.”
He knew he sounded unconvincing, especially when Bucky sent him that look that he sends to people sometimes that says I’ve been alive for over a century, don’t try to kid me. Bob just shrugged, not really knowing what Bucky wanted him to say, but was kindly interrupted by that voice he hears in his head when he sleeps sometimes.
“Hey, Bucky. You forgot this.” You smiled that angel’s smile at the man, handing him some paperwork that looked to Bob like it had been written in another language. Then, as if the heavens themselves had opened up over him to grant him his one true wish, you looked at him, “Hi.”
You had turned back to your office before he could muster up a reply, but his eyes followed you all the way back to your desk chair until they were rudely interrupted by the stupid old man standing next to him. Bucky sent him one long look, and walked away. Bob sighed.
But he never stopped looking.
In the meetings. In the office. In the hallway. From the middle floor balcony, watching you clock in at the same time each morning and leave late every night. From the dark corner at one of Val’s parties he’d chosen not to go to, watching you fiddle with a champagne flute while trapped in conversation with an investor. From his places, Bob watched.
He watched you walk, he watched you talk. He watched you breathe, and imagined feeling it lightly on his face. He watched you fiddle with papers, crossing T’s and dotting I’s. He watched you rub the sleep from your eyes in the mornings, and hold back a yawn in the nights. He watched you laugh with Yelena, and poke fun at Bucky. He watched you grin at Alexei, sharing a look with Ava.
When he wasn’t watching, he was imagining. What are you doing right now? Who were you talking to? What did you eat for breakfast and was there traffic on the way here because it’s 9:03 and you still haven’t come in? Where do you go every night? Do you think about him too?
It was becoming a lot for Bob. But it felt so good, he didn’t want to ever stop. He’d worn holes in his sleeves from fiddling with them so much, something to do with his hands while his eyes were busy on you.
It all came to a halt at 2:37 in the morning on a tuesday.
The mission alert alarm had blared through the building, waking up everyone on the floor. This happened very rarely — most missions were pre-planned and handed to them in a packet. This one was serious, and it needed to be seen to now.
Bob got up, watching his friends hurriedly put on their gear while you shouted information at them from the mission computer. Val was nowhere to be seen, which shocked nobody.
Usually, when there’s a mission alert, it goes to Val first. She assesses if the situation is important enough to give now or if it can wait until the morning — if it’s now, she sends it to you. You go to the tower, run diagnostics on the computer and then, and only then, are you allowed to wake up the rest of the team and tell them to get out there. This was one of those moments.
You stood authoritatively in your sweatpants and hoodie, yelling at Lena to tie her shoes before she tripped and shot herself in the leg. Screwdriver in hand to tighten Bucky’s arm because he always loosened it when he slept. It was a flurry of chaos, but when the team were finally gone, it was quiet.
And it was just you and Bob. And like usual, he watched.
You let out a relieved sigh, dropping the ipad down onto the control desk and leaning back on it slightly — you glanced around, making sure everything was in order before you trudged back to your apartment and into your bed, only to sleep for two hours before you had to be back here again in the morning.
But then your eyes caught Bob. Standing idly in the middle of the room, hands fiddling with themselves and lips pursed. You sent him a tired smile, “Hey, Bob.”
Bob wasn’t sure when you’d learnt his name, but he thanked whoever was up there that you had, because the sound of it coming from you sent a warm rush into his usually cold chest. That warmth was also paired with a shock of nerves, because now you were watching him and he didn’t know what to do.
“You okay?” You asked, stepping down from the desk and heading towards him. Or towards the door to leave, but he told himself it was towards him. “Sorry about the yelling. Mission alerts, right?”
“No, that’s okay.” He replied quickly, appalled at the thought of you ever apologising for anything. “I was just…”
“Watching me?” You’d said then, levelling him with an inquisitive look. Your eyes shone.
“W—What?” Suddenly, Bob was all too aware of you. More aware than he ever had been before, because you were standing right there and you said —
“I can see you.” You explained it slowly, looking at him through your lashes, “Every day. All the time. There you are.”
He swallowed, “I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay.”
“I’ll stop.”
“Don’t.” You smiled, tilting your head slightly. “I like it.”
“You like it?”
“Yeah.” You shrugged, standing before him like a glowing scepter — inticing him to touch. “Makes me feel good, knowing that someone knows I’m there.”
“It…” Bob swallowed, “Makes you feel good?”
You hummed, and Bob could imagine himself getting hypnotised by the sound. Maybe he had been, all this time — from the day he first saw you. He didn’t think he minded if that was the case.
“Still.” He whispered, “It’s creepy.”
“Yeah it is.” He might have imagined it, but he could’ve sworn that you were smirking a little when you said that. “Night, Bob.”
Bob went to sleep that night in a daze, thoughts of you blurring the corners of his vision whenever he shut his eyes too hard. But when he woke up, it was as if he was a different person entirely.
A wave of confidence seemed to have draped over him in the night — the realisation that his conversation with you had really happened. You had seen him staring. You liked it. That’s what you said. Well, you should never have said that.
Because that one sentence, those four words…
“Makes me feel good.”
That was all the fuel Bob needed.
Because at the end of the day, he lived to please.
He skipped breakfast with the team. No time. Instead, he beelined straight for your office on the lower floors. None of the other admin staff had entered the building yet — the whole floor was completely and utterly silent. With the exception of Bobs footsteps, then the sliding open of your office door, and the closing of it soon after.
You were stood at the other side of your desk, straightening some papers for whoever you would be meeting with later on to look at. Facing away from him, it allowed Bob the perfect opportunity to sidle up directly behind you.
He felt you freeze, but when his hands settled on the desk and you recognised the callouses on his knuckles, you relaxed slightly, “Bob.”
“Hey.” He replied, his breath smoothing over the skin on your neck. “Sleep well?”
“Not really.” You responded. You had now fully recollected yourself after his sudden appearance, and your tone reflected that, “I was tossing and turning all night. Completely restless.”
Bob hummed, “Why d’ya think that is?”
“No idea.” You spun around, still trapped between him and the desk. Meeting his eyes, you raised a brow, “You’re early.”
“I didn’t want anyone else to be here.”
“Why?”
“I…” He swallowed, “Would it make you feel good…if I touched you?”
“Yes.” You replied, leaning back slightly on the desk, letting one of your feet brush against the side of his leg, “Why? Do you want to?”
“Yes.” He spoke from gritted teeth, eyes on your nose. “But…”
“But what?”
“I don’t know if I can.” Bob flickered his gaze around the room, down to where your foot met his ankle, back to your nose, “I haven’t…touched anyone in a while. Well, no. I’ve touched people obviously. Like, I’ve touched Bucky — not like…uh, that. Not that —“
You hooked your finger over his waistband. He stopped talking. “Bob.” You hummed, “Look at me.”
He did, immediately. You tilted your head downever so slightly, “You can touch me wherever you want. As long as I can touch you too?”
He nodded, “Y—Yes. Touch me — You can…touch me.”
So you did. Your singular finger over his waistband quickly transitioned into four fingers, sliding around to his back, then up and under his shirt. His skin was soft, and you could feel the thin tufts of hair that dotted his lower back. Bob shivered, watching your arms move around him.
“You remember when we first met?” You asked, both of your hands now freely exploring his back and chest underneath his shirt. “Bob.”
“Huh? Yes. I—In the meeting room.”
“Right.” Your eyes were glued to his face, even though he was pointedly staring at the tent in his shirt from where your fingertips were resting gently underneath. “That was a long day. I remember, ‘cos after fourteen hours at work all I wanted to do was sleep but I couldn’t because I kept thinking about you.”
You felt something twitch within you when his eyes finally snapped to yours, “What?”
You grinned, “I felt really bad about it but I couldn’t stop. Valentina would be briefing me on something important and I’d be in the clouds, imagining you doing all sorts of things to me.”
Your hands left his body, instead moving to his own, grabbing them and guiding them to your blouse. They went to work on your buttons without hesitation: Bob was so focused on your face, on what you were saying, that you could’ve put his finger up to his own mouth and he’d probably suck it without thinking.
Hm. Maybe you’d get him to do that one day.
“I started to lose track of what I needed to do because I was so distracted with all my fantasies.” Satisfied with his compliance, you leant back on your palms and let him unbutton your shirt as he listened to you. Maybe he didn’t even realise he was doing it, maybe he was doing it out of pure instinct because that’s just how much he wanted to. “Maybe now that they’re being fulfilled I can go back to working properly.”
“Don’t.” He said then, brows furrowing as if what you had suggested was just insanely absurd. He pushed your blouse off your shoulders, and you let it fall behind you onto the desk, “Keep imagining.”
You pushed yourself up to sit on the desk then slipped your hands out of the discarded sleeves, “Okay. As long as you keep watching.”
“Okay.” He nodded, staring at you. Waiting for his next instruction.
“C’mere.” Was your final murmur. Then, you were kissing him. And he was a little unsure, but the second his lips warmed with the temperature of yours, he was melting into you.
Bob didn’t need you to guide him then. He had all of his want in its purest form pushing him all around you — palms on your legs, your waist, your hips. He pressed himself hard into the edge of the desk just to get as close to you as possible. Now he had full permission, he was like a feral dog that ate his food too quickly, mouth watering around yours and hands pressing your face hard against his when he felt like he just wasn’t close enough.
You lapped it all up. Your heels dropped carelessly to the carpet, and you let your stocking-clad feet guide themselves up and around his lower body. You dug your heel into his ass, his crotch pressed against yours.
The feeling was sensational — you bucked your hips and let your skirt bunch around your waist. You curled your hands into fists around his shirt. Bob was all in a state, pulling one of your knees up so your leg bent and your foot rested on the desk, all for easier access to that sweet spot between your thighs. Hidden under a pair of tights and panties, but he was close enough for now.
Your movements were sloppy. They were messy. They were completely filthy. But neither of you had the strength to ever stop. Not when you were so so close…
Papers on your desk crumpled, the pot of pens toppled to the ground. You were gasping helplessly into each other's mouths while you dry humped carelessly on top of the nest mahogany, Bob's hair was tangled between your fingers and the skin of your back was caught in his death grip while you chased your respective highs.
That release, that snapping of elastic that had you both convulsing helplessly against each other, arrived in such a fashion that neither of you could prepare for. Your head fell back, and Bob followed the path of your neck with his mouth while he stuttered between your hips. Even though your orgasm had already torn through you, the warmth that spread from his trousers made you want to rub yourself up on him for the rest of the day.
But you knew this office like clockwork. So you didn’t. Instead, you peeled yourself away from him and hopped to your feet. You straightened your clothes up, fixed your hair in the reflection of the glass that your office was made of, and turned back to him.
He was standing in the middle of the room, catching his breath, eyes shut. You bit your lip, eyeing the dark wet patch on his sweatpants, and said his name, “Bob.”
He looked at you. For a second, he was silent. Then, “Is that it? Are we done now? Do I have to stop looking at you now that we’ve done that because I really don’t think I can and also I really don’t want to.”
“Bob.”
“What?” He whined. He actually whined.
“We’re not done.” You grinned only barely, watching the sparkle in his eyes brighten. “But you gotta go.”
He didn’t say anything, just stared at you. Confused, as if there was anything else in the world that could possibly matter more than him feeling you up in your office.
“It’s nearly nine.” You flickered your gaze to the empty floor outside only for a second, “Everyone’s gonna be here soon. I gotta do my job. You gotta go.”
“Okay.” He nodded, now realising that if he stayed any longer, the entire admin staff would see him with cum-stained sweatpants on. He looked down at it, now slightly embarrassed at himself.
“It’s alright. I got one too.” You winked.
Bob chuckled. He stared at you. His hand twitched, wanting to feel you again.
But he didn’t. At least, not for now. For now, he’d go back to his room and shower. Thinking about you the entire time. And you would sit calmly behind your desk, meet with Bucky about some boring admin stuff, and pretend as if you weren’t pressing your legs together thinking about Bob the entire time.
Then, when Bucky would leave your office, he’d make the same face at Bob as he would every day when he saw him by the coffee cart. Even though Bob didn’t really need to watch anymore, because now he had full permission to touch. But he’d still watch.
Because Bob loved touching you. But damn, he loved watching you too.
summary: as the assistant to the thunderbolts, you never really interacted with bob. but that didn’t mean he wasn’t there, watching.
content: perv!bob, but maybe perv!reader too? wink wink. slight stalking…18+ content mdni! dry humping, reader and bob match each other’s freak, reader wears heels but no other mention of a particular presenting gender, bob is insane and you love it.
word count: 3.6k
notes: this has been in the works for a whiiile hehe, i beg that you enjoy because i spent way too long on this. love you guys thanks for being patient <3 also a smooch to anyone who knows where my header is from hehe
*The New Avengers Tower had one hundred and three floors, and Bob Reynolds had explored maybe five of them.
It wasn’t his fault! He still had little control over his powers, and it had been highly advised by Valentina that he stuck to the areas of the building only *The New Avengers could go. The training rooms, the apartments, the kitchen and living areas etc. He was allowed to go to the conference rooms downstairs for mission briefings with the others if he so liked, but he never did.
Well, unless you were going to be there.
You see, two months into their stay at the Tower, Valentina had made an announcement to the team that she would be bringing in an assistant for them — someone to handle the boring admin stuff while they focused on the hero stuff. And since Bob didn’t do any of that, he’d never gotten the chance to interact with you.
He sure had heard about you, though. It wasn’t as if the team raved about you or anything, but Bob liked to consider himself fairly observant — so when he would hear Yelena thanking god under her breath that you were around whenever she was particularly stressed, or Ava asking Walker quietly if he’d seen you anywhere, or even Bucky telling Alexei that he’d have to deal with your wrath if he skipped that week’s campaign dinner instead of his (and seeing Alexei silently decide he’d better attend that dinner, then), he figured you were pretty good at your job.
It was autumn when he met you for the first time. He had been playing chess with himself in one of the empty meeting rooms — hiding from Yelena, who was trying to get him to come to one of Valentina’s parties that weekend — when the rest of the team burst into the room and settled around the table.
“Bob!” Alexei had bellowed, taking a seat at the table with everyone else “You come on mission with us?”
“Oh, uh…no.” He’d stammered, clumsily moving his board out of the way, “I was just hanging out here…I can — I’ll leave.”
“No need.” Valentina’s voice was sharp when she finally entered in, strutting to the head of the table to start her meeting. And behind her, was you.
Bob thought you were really pretty. But when you caught his eye coming in and sent him a kind smile, he thought it looked ethereal.
He was a goner from there.
He hadn’t listened to a word Valentina had said in that meeting, not that he needed to. And from then on out, he invited himself down to every team briefing he could just so he could silently watch you stand behind Val while she spoke and hand out mission files to his teammates one by one around the table. Every time, he would wait patiently for you to pass him — and instead of giving him a file, you’d give him a glimpse into your eyes and a kind upturn of your lips. Bob would take that over a mission brief any day of the week.
He had also taken to joining Yelena on her morning routine in which she did her own check-in on the admin staff to ensure Valentina wasn’t up to anything they weren’t aware of (and so she could make coffee in the office staff room, which apparently tasted way better than the stuff they had upstairs).
“You were right.” He’d said when she finally questioned him on his sudden change of heart, trying to be as convincing as possible, “I need to get out more. I’m still a member of the team, like you said.”
Lena had just raised a single brow and walked off, and Bob took that as a win. He had no time to think about it anyway because there you were; sitting behind your desk and typing at your laptop with the cutest furrow in your brow he’d ever seen.
He was proud of himself. All year, his therapist had been encouraging him to find a hobby; something to do so he wasn’t wallowing in self-pity whenever his friends were too busy on missions or in training. He’d tried a few things – knitting, baking, graphic design..but nothing had been as fulfilling as watching you from the back of a meeting, and following Yelena around the office floors for an hour just for that split-second glimpse of you in your office that he thanked god had glass walls.
At first, that’s all it was. A couple of looks every now and then, Bob always too shy to glance for too long at once in fear you’d notice. But then, slowly, it progressed. Over time, the brief peeks became full-on stares. There was that one occasion you wore a skirt that was shorter than usual, and he tripped over a coffee cart trying to get a second look. He very nearly glanced at the cleavage that was peeking through your top when you leaned over John’s shoulder to pass him his file – he didn’t, but became slightly distraught when he saw Walker take a not-so subtle look himself. That wasn’t allowed. You weren’t for John to look at.
You sure were his to look at, he thought. He just didn’t realise how obvious his looks were until one day when Bucky left your office after talking to you, he stopped beside Bob and said, “That’s the slowest I’ve ever seen a man make a cup of coffee. You in a rush, Bob?”
Bob jumped, spilling some milk on his shirt and quickly putting the paper cup back down on the tray in favour of patting himself dry, “W–What? I was just…making…coffee.”
He knew he sounded unconvincing, especially when Bucky sent him that look that he sends to people sometimes that says I’ve been alive for over a century, don’t try to kid me. Bob just shrugged, not really knowing what Bucky wanted him to say, but was kindly interrupted by that voice he hears in his head when he sleeps sometimes.
“Hey, Bucky. You forgot this.” You smiled that angel’s smile at the man, handing him some paperwork that looked to Bob like it had been written in another language. Then, as if the heavens themselves had opened up over him to grant him his one true wish, you looked at him, “Hi.”
You had turned back to your office before he could muster up a reply, but his eyes followed you all the way back to your desk chair until they were rudely interrupted by the stupid old man standing next to him. Bucky sent him one long look, and walked away. Bob sighed.
But he never stopped looking.
In the meetings. In the office. In the hallway. From the middle floor balcony, watching you clock in at the same time each morning and leave late every night. From the dark corner at one of Val’s parties he’d chosen not to go to, watching you fiddle with a champagne flute while trapped in conversation with an investor. From his places, Bob watched.
He watched you walk, he watched you talk. He watched you breathe, and imagined feeling it lightly on his face. He watched you fiddle with papers, crossing T’s and dotting I’s. He watched you rub the sleep from your eyes in the mornings, and hold back a yawn in the nights. He watched you laugh with Yelena, and poke fun at Bucky. He watched you grin at Alexei, sharing a look with Ava.
When he wasn’t watching, he was imagining. What are you doing right now? Who were you talking to? What did you eat for breakfast and was there traffic on the way here because it’s 9:03 and you still haven’t come in? Where do you go every night? Do you think about him too?
It was becoming a lot for Bob. But it felt so good, he didn’t want to ever stop. He’d worn holes in his sleeves from fiddling with them so much, something to do with his hands while his eyes were busy on you.
It all came to a halt at 2:37 in the morning on a tuesday.
The mission alert alarm had blared through the building, waking up everyone on the floor. This happened very rarely — most missions were pre-planned and handed to them in a packet. This one was serious, and it needed to be seen to now.
Bob got up, watching his friends hurriedly put on their gear while you shouted information at them from the mission computer. Val was nowhere to be seen, which shocked nobody.
Usually, when there’s a mission alert, it goes to Val first. She assesses if the situation is important enough to give now or if it can wait until the morning — if it’s now, she sends it to you. You go to the tower, run diagnostics on the computer and then, and only then, are you allowed to wake up the rest of the team and tell them to get out there. This was one of those moments.
You stood authoritatively in your sweatpants and hoodie, yelling at Lena to tie her shoes before she tripped and shot herself in the leg. Screwdriver in hand to tighten Bucky’s arm because he always loosened it when he slept. It was a flurry of chaos, but when the team were finally gone, it was quiet.
And it was just you and Bob. And like usual, he watched.
You let out a relieved sigh, dropping the ipad down onto the control desk and leaning back on it slightly — you glanced around, making sure everything was in order before you trudged back to your apartment and into your bed, only to sleep for two hours before you had to be back here again in the morning.
But then your eyes caught Bob. Standing idly in the middle of the room, hands fiddling with themselves and lips pursed. You sent him a tired smile, “Hey, Bob.”
Bob wasn’t sure when you’d learnt his name, but he thanked whoever was up there that you had, because the sound of it coming from you sent a warm rush into his usually cold chest. That warmth was also paired with a shock of nerves, because now you were watching him and he didn’t know what to do.
“You okay?” You asked, stepping down from the desk and heading towards him. Or towards the door to leave, but he told himself it was towards him. “Sorry about the yelling. Mission alerts, right?”
“No, that’s okay.” He replied quickly, appalled at the thought of you ever apologising for anything. “I was just…”
“Watching me?” You’d said then, levelling him with an inquisitive look. Your eyes shone.
“W—What?” Suddenly, Bob was all too aware of you. More aware than he ever had been before, because you were standing right there and you said —
“I can see you.” You explained it slowly, looking at him through your lashes, “Every day. All the time. There you are.”
He swallowed, “I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay.”
“I’ll stop.”
“Don’t.” You smiled, tilting your head slightly. “I like it.”
“You like it?”
“Yeah.” You shrugged, standing before him like a glowing scepter — inticing him to touch. “Makes me feel good, knowing that someone knows I’m there.”
“It…” Bob swallowed, “Makes you feel good?”
You hummed, and Bob could imagine himself getting hypnotised by the sound. Maybe he had been, all this time — from the day he first saw you. He didn’t think he minded if that was the case.
“Still.” He whispered, “It’s creepy.”
“Yeah it is.” He might have imagined it, but he could’ve sworn that you were smirking a little when you said that. “Night, Bob.”
Bob went to sleep that night in a daze, thoughts of you blurring the corners of his vision whenever he shut his eyes too hard. But when he woke up, it was as if he was a different person entirely.
A wave of confidence seemed to have draped over him in the night — the realisation that his conversation with you had really happened. You had seen him staring. You liked it. That’s what you said. Well, you should never have said that.
Because that one sentence, those four words…
“Makes me feel good.”
That was all the fuel Bob needed.
Because at the end of the day, he lived to please.
He skipped breakfast with the team. No time. Instead, he beelined straight for your office on the lower floors. None of the other admin staff had entered the building yet — the whole floor was completely and utterly silent. With the exception of Bobs footsteps, then the sliding open of your office door, and the closing of it soon after.
You were stood at the other side of your desk, straightening some papers for whoever you would be meeting with later on to look at. Facing away from him, it allowed Bob the perfect opportunity to sidle up directly behind you.
He felt you freeze, but when his hands settled on the desk and you recognised the callouses on his knuckles, you relaxed slightly, “Bob.”
“Hey.” He replied, his breath smoothing over the skin on your neck. “Sleep well?”
“Not really.” You responded. You had now fully recollected yourself after his sudden appearance, and your tone reflected that, “I was tossing and turning all night. Completely restless.”
Bob hummed, “Why d’ya think that is?”
“No idea.” You spun around, still trapped between him and the desk. Meeting his eyes, you raised a brow, “You’re early.”
“I didn’t want anyone else to be here.”
“Why?”
“I…” He swallowed, “Would it make you feel good…if I touched you?”
“Yes.” You replied, leaning back slightly on the desk, letting one of your feet brush against the side of his leg, “Why? Do you want to?”
“Yes.” He spoke from gritted teeth, eyes on your nose. “But…”
“But what?”
“I don’t know if I can.” Bob flickered his gaze around the room, down to where your foot met his ankle, back to your nose, “I haven’t…touched anyone in a while. Well, no. I’ve touched people obviously. Like, I’ve touched Bucky — not like…uh, that. Not that —“
You hooked your finger over his waistband. He stopped talking. “Bob.” You hummed, “Look at me.”
He did, immediately. You tilted your head downever so slightly, “You can touch me wherever you want. As long as I can touch you too?”
He nodded, “Y—Yes. Touch me — You can…touch me.”
So you did. Your singular finger over his waistband quickly transitioned into four fingers, sliding around to his back, then up and under his shirt. His skin was soft, and you could feel the thin tufts of hair that dotted his lower back. Bob shivered, watching your arms move around him.
“You remember when we first met?” You asked, both of your hands now freely exploring his back and chest underneath his shirt. “Bob.”
“Huh? Yes. I—In the meeting room.”
“Right.” Your eyes were glued to his face, even though he was pointedly staring at the tent in his shirt from where your fingertips were resting gently underneath. “That was a long day. I remember, ‘cos after fourteen hours at work all I wanted to do was sleep but I couldn’t because I kept thinking about you.”
You felt something twitch within you when his eyes finally snapped to yours, “What?”
You grinned, “I felt really bad about it but I couldn’t stop. Valentina would be briefing me on something important and I’d be in the clouds, imagining you doing all sorts of things to me.”
Your hands left his body, instead moving to his own, grabbing them and guiding them to your blouse. They went to work on your buttons without hesitation: Bob was so focused on your face, on what you were saying, that you could’ve put his finger up to his own mouth and he’d probably suck it without thinking.
Hm. Maybe you’d get him to do that one day.
“I started to lose track of what I needed to do because I was so distracted with all my fantasies.” Satisfied with his compliance, you leant back on your palms and let him unbutton your shirt as he listened to you. Maybe he didn’t even realise he was doing it, maybe he was doing it out of pure instinct because that’s just how much he wanted to. “Maybe now that they’re being fulfilled I can go back to working properly.”
“Don’t.” He said then, brows furrowing as if what you had suggested was just insanely absurd. He pushed your blouse off your shoulders, and you let it fall behind you onto the desk, “Keep imagining.”
You pushed yourself up to sit on the desk then slipped your hands out of the discarded sleeves, “Okay. As long as you keep watching.”
“Okay.” He nodded, staring at you. Waiting for his next instruction.
“C’mere.” Was your final murmur. Then, you were kissing him. And he was a little unsure, but the second his lips warmed with the temperature of yours, he was melting into you.
Bob didn’t need you to guide him then. He had all of his want in its purest form pushing him all around you — palms on your legs, your waist, your hips. He pressed himself hard into the edge of the desk just to get as close to you as possible. Now he had full permission, he was like a feral dog that ate his food too quickly, mouth watering around yours and hands pressing your face hard against his when he felt like he just wasn’t close enough.
You lapped it all up. Your heels dropped carelessly to the carpet, and you let your stocking-clad feet guide themselves up and around his lower body. You dug your heel into his ass, his crotch pressed against yours.
The feeling was sensational — you bucked your hips and let your skirt bunch around your waist. You curled your hands into fists around his shirt. Bob was all in a state, pulling one of your knees up so your leg bent and your foot rested on the desk, all for easier access to that sweet spot between your thighs. Hidden under a pair of tights and panties, but he was close enough for now.
Your movements were sloppy. They were messy. They were completely filthy. But neither of you had the strength to ever stop. Not when you were so so close…
Papers on your desk crumpled, the pot of pens toppled to the ground. You were gasping helplessly into each other's mouths while you dry humped carelessly on top of the nest mahogany, Bob's hair was tangled between your fingers and the skin of your back was caught in his death grip while you chased your respective highs.
That release, that snapping of elastic that had you both convulsing helplessly against each other, arrived in such a fashion that neither of you could prepare for. Your head fell back, and Bob followed the path of your neck with his mouth while he stuttered between your hips. Even though your orgasm had already torn through you, the warmth that spread from his trousers made you want to rub yourself up on him for the rest of the day.
But you knew this office like clockwork. So you didn’t. Instead, you peeled yourself away from him and hopped to your feet. You straightened your clothes up, fixed your hair in the reflection of the glass that your office was made of, and turned back to him.
He was standing in the middle of the room, catching his breath, eyes shut. You bit your lip, eyeing the dark wet patch on his sweatpants, and said his name, “Bob.”
He looked at you. For a second, he was silent. Then, “Is that it? Are we done now? Do I have to stop looking at you now that we’ve done that because I really don’t think I can and also I really don’t want to.”
“Bob.”
“What?” He whined. He actually whined.
“We’re not done.” You grinned only barely, watching the sparkle in his eyes brighten. “But you gotta go.”
He didn’t say anything, just stared at you. Confused, as if there was anything else in the world that could possibly matter more than him feeling you up in your office.
“It’s nearly nine.” You flickered your gaze to the empty floor outside only for a second, “Everyone’s gonna be here soon. I gotta do my job. You gotta go.”
“Okay.” He nodded, now realising that if he stayed any longer, the entire admin staff would see him with cum-stained sweatpants on. He looked down at it, now slightly embarrassed at himself.
“It’s alright. I got one too.” You winked.
Bob chuckled. He stared at you. His hand twitched, wanting to feel you again.
But he didn’t. At least, not for now. For now, he’d go back to his room and shower. Thinking about you the entire time. And you would sit calmly behind your desk, meet with Bucky about some boring admin stuff, and pretend as if you weren’t pressing your legs together thinking about Bob the entire time.
Then, when Bucky would leave your office, he’d make the same face at Bob as he would every day when he saw him by the coffee cart. Even though Bob didn’t really need to watch anymore, because now he had full permission to touch. But he’d still watch.
Because Bob loved touching you. But damn, he loved watching you too.
