#the void

[redundantz]

[lukas-dusk]

[heimheim7]

Bob love u so much, protect him 😭❤️

[cabbagedreamss]

thunderbolts* thursday: scene redraw

[wooserr]

Bob

[em1i2a3]

I’ll Believe In Anything

Pairing: Bob/Robert Reynolds/The Sentry/The Void x Thunderbolts!Fem!Reader

Summary: You book a beach getaway for the team, only to realize that it would be harder than expected to hide you and Bob's relationship from the others.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI! Smut (a lot of it…kinda just purely self indulgent, promise next time I’ll have way more plot), and pure Fluffiness. Bob and Reader are in a secret relationship together, and it is relatively new (about two months in, though they were extremely close prior to this)

Smut Warnings: Unprotected P in V Sex (wrap it up y’all…please), Fingering, Oral Sex (Female and Male Receiving), Hands Covering Mouths to Muffle Moans…But like…In a nice way? (I feel like that might need a warning for some reason), Dirty talk, Teasing, The use of the name ‘good girl’ is scattered throughout this, Overstimulation, Squirting

Author's Note: I took the request of a beach day with Bob and I thought of a beach weekend with Bob and the rest of the Thunderbolts with the trope of a secret relationship and it being in peak honeymoon phase where reader and Bob/Sentry just can’t get enough of each other. Thank you Anon for suggesting a beach day with Bob…Because it got out of hand lol

Word Count: 15,200

You were supposed to be on the road by noon.

Instead, it was nearly 2:30 and you were still in Bob’s bedroom–sitting cross-legged on the floor, folding his t-shirts while he tried to seduce you with forehead kisses and absolutely no concept of urgency–while the others were already on their way to the beach house.

“Bob. I need you to focus!” You said, voice muffling through a laugh as he nuzzled against your neck, “You were supposed to be packed yesterday, and we were supposed to be halfway down the coast by now!” Bob, who had his arms looped loosely around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder, sighed dramatically.

”B-But you smell so good…It’s l-like you bathed in the tropics or something. I-I can’t think straight when you smell like that.”

“You never think straight when I’m around.” You shot back. He turned his head and kissed your jaw, then your cheek, then the tip of your nose.

”That’s b-because you’ve ruined me.” He murmured. You grinned as he kissed the apples of your cheeks, his breath fanning over your skin. His arms tightened around your waist like he was trying to physically keep you from packing, while his whole body curled around yours, pulling you onto his lap slightly. Despite your better judgement, you leaned into him just a little.

”Actually,” You started, reaching for another t-shirt that you had thrown on the floor, “You were just secretly harbouring a high sex drive and didn’t realize it until we finally did it.” Bob let out a flustered breath–half-laugh, half-gasp.

”I-I was not…” Your eyebrows raised.

”Oh, really?” He leaned back a bit so he could look at you fully, with feigned innocence playing in his eyes.

”I-I mean…Fine. I didn’t know it was that b-bad until you. I-It’s not like I ever…I mean, no one’s ever…” He paused and tried to get his words back, taking in a deep breath because his voice almost got carried away with him “Y-You’re the one who makes it a whole different e-experience for me.” You sighed, surrendering to his words.

”I’ll take the blame for opening the floodgates,” You said, tossing another folded t-shirt into his duffel bag. Bob let out a soft laugh that reverberated through your back, warm and full in your ear.

”A-At least you’re a-admitting to it.” You rolled your eyes, reaching for a hoodie you had dug out from the corner of his closet.

”That doesn’t absolve you from having the highest sex drive I’ve ever encountered.” He groaned into your neck, kissing the sensitive flesh there as his arms tightened around you again.

”T-Technically,” He started, drawing the word out, “I’m trying to satiate three different sex d-drives here…” You froze mid-fold, raising your eyebrows at him again.

”Excuse me?” He lifted his head, like he was explaining simple math to you.

”Well…You can’t just put this all on m-me when there’s…Y’know…Two other entities l-living in here.” You immediately started shaking your head at him, giggling slightly in disbelief.

”You are not blaming your libido on Sentry and The Void.” He shrugged, smiling helplessly.

”I-I’m just saying…T-They have opinions too.” You hummed, fighting against the grin on your lips.

”I’m sure they do…But I never thought The Void was needy.” Bob nodded with mock solemnity.

”You’re right, h-he does tend to stay q-quiet unless he really wants to surprise y-you.” You threw his hoodie into the duffel bag.

”Sentry, though…”

“D-Don’t say his name…” Bob cut in quickly, “O-Or else he might be summoned.” He whispered. Which immediately made you double over with a laugh as Bob collapsed back onto the carpet beneath you, his large arms taking you down with him.

You both laid there for a second, tangled in each other and soft cotton, letting the laughter settle in your chests like a weight you wanted to carry. It had only been two months since you started going out with each other–officially. But it hadn’t exactly come out of nowhere.

From the second the Thunderbolts moved into the compound together, you had been drawn to Bob. You didn’t know why at first. He was quiet, hesitant, and always outside the room even when he was inside it. He was your total opposite. But he looked at you like you owned the moon and the stars–and that kind of gaze stuck with you.

It wasn’t long before you started orbiting each other in a way that felt deliberate. Every mission debrief, you found yourself sitting closer to one another. Every team meal, you would share your food with him, and he would do the same with you. Every long hallway walk back from training, he held the door for you with flushed cheeks and twitching hands. He loved the way you smiled, and that was all he wanted to make you do, all the time.

Then, two months ago, it happened. A soft moment. A long look. A kiss in the quiet of your room after a late-night movie together, and then–

You were his. And he was yours.

Now you found yourself in the dangerous phase where everything felt like fire under your skin. You couldn’t keep your hands off each other. He touched you constantly. Kissed you at red lights when it was only you and him in the car. Fell asleep with his fingers curled in your shirt. And snuck into your room at midnight and left your sheets twisted by the morning.

And yet–no one knew.

Not Bucky, nor Yelena, or Ava or Walker…Not even Alexei, even though he had his suspicions. You had both agreed to keep things under wraps until you were ready. Until it wasn’t so new. Until Bob was sure he could be looked at without being seen as a danger to you by the rest of the group. It was not like they didn’t trust him, but in the midst of everything going on with The Void and Sentry, it was easy for them to baby him and treat him like he was always on the brink of exploding, even though that wasn’t the case–mostly because you grounded him.

But both of you were able to admit it was getting harder and harder to keep your relationship under wraps, especially with how much you were sneaking around.

Bob turned his head and kissed your cheek again–slow and soft, right in that spot where he knew it would make you sigh. His lips lingered a second longer than necessary, and it was so sweet it was almost infuriating.

You groaned, flopping your head back against his shoulder. “Okay. We’re getting off-task again. Can you please contribute to the packing so we can get on our way?” He pouted, eyes wide and glistening, still reflecting the sea blue that always put you in a trance.

”A-Alright…Alright. But I want one more kiss.” He said sheepishly. You stared at him for a beat, then leaned in and kissed him on the mouth–firm but brief, something halfway between a promise and a bribe. He chased it for a second when you pulled away, but you were already on your feet, dusting off your thighs and grabbing the half empty duffel.

”Now, help me find those flip flops we bought for you last week,” You said pointing toward his closet.

————————

Thirty minutes later, you were finally on the road.

The sun had begun its slow descent, dipping low and gold behind the treetops as you pulled out of the compound’s gravel lot. The world beyond the gate opened up wide and free–the start of the real sky, of long stretches of road and salt tinged air rising up from the distant coast.

It was warm in the car. That perfect kind of summer heat–the one that lingered on your skin without stifling you. Your hand rested lightly on the wheel, guiding the car through curves and straightaways with practiced ease, in your other hand, condensation clung to your iced coffee cup as you sipped slowly, the straw catching slightly between your lips every now and again.

Beside you, Bob was quiet. Legs drawn up a little, barefoot, with sun streaking through the passenger-side window. His hair was still a little damp from his earlier shower, curling slightly at the edges and shining in the glow of the beams that cascaded over the light brown crown of his head. He wore the black soft cotton t-shirt you liked stealing, and his body had settled into that familiar, lazy sprawl that only happened when he was truly content.

The compound was behind you, and the beach was straight ahead. And for the first time all day, you allowed yourself to exhale. This was the start of something nice and soft, a time to actually relax and not think about anything other than your found family and your secret lover.

Then you felt Bob’s warm hand spreading across your thigh.

At first it was casual, his fingers brushing lightly over your skin, resting just above your knee. You didn’t even glance at him, because Bob always did this–it was his way to soothe himself.

But then his thumb started to move.

A slow, deliberate drag along the inside of your thigh. It certainly wasn’t innocent, and it had alternative intentions.

You shot him a warning glance.

”Bob–“ He didn’t look at you, he just kept his eyes forward, with a small, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and then you caught the glow in his irises. It was very faint, but you knew the signs better than anyone else.

“Oh, for the love of god.” Sentry’s fingers crept a little higher on your thigh, just enough to make your breath hitch around the straw of your coffee.

”Come on…” He said deeply. Sentry’s voice was silkier, and lower. Touched by something celestial and smug, “Don’t act like you didn’t know I was going to make an appearance.” You groaned, putting your drink down into the cup holder, before dragging your damp hand down your face.

”Sentry…Now is definitely not the time. We literally just got on the road.” You said sternly. He leaned in, not touching you beyond the dangerously warm hand on your thigh, but close enough that you could feel the heat of his gaze.

”Yet, I’ve been waiting patiently. I watched you pack up his bag, and bend over and kiss his cheek as if I wasn’t even there.” His thumb made another slow sweep, dragging a little higher now, just an inch–but an inch too far, “You’re lucky I didn’t ruin the folding party,” He added, grinning now. Your jaw tensed as you kept your eyes on the road, trying very hard not to give him the reaction he was digging for.

”You’re not ruining this road trip fifteen minutes in,” You said firmly.

”Mmm,” He hummed, “I’m sure there’s a lookout space somewhere nearby. We’re already late, what’s another half hour going to do?” You shot him a withering glance.

”Sentry,” You warned, “You know it’s going to be suspicious if we show up super late. I know how you are. It won’t be half an hour. It’ll be half the damn evening and we won’t get to the beach house until midnight or something.” He bit the inside of his cheek before letting the corner of his mouth tilt.

”All I want is a little taste,” He said, voice dark with promise, “Fifteen minutes. We pull off, throw ourselves in the back on top of our bags. I go down on you quickly, then we get back on the road and nobody will know a thing.” You stared ahead, feeling your heart thudding against your chest. His hand hadn’t moved, it just burned against you like a promise waiting to be claimed.

”And hey…We can even pick up something from a market along the way and pretend we made a quick stop to cover up our trail,” He added helpfully, “A 24 case of beer will definitely be a good peace offering…It would be believable.” The hand on your thigh squeezed–gently, but with purpose. Just enough to make your pulse skip and your breath falter.

“I can hear your heartbeat, you know,” Sentry murmured, voice low and amused, like it thrilled him. “It’s stuttering. All fluttery and sweet. It does that when you’re thinking about me.” His thumb resumed its slow, teasing pass along the inside of your leg, brushing higher this time–so close to dangerous territory it made your stomach clench. You pressed your thighs together instinctively, and that was your downfall, because of course…He felt it.

”Oh, sweetheart…” He drawled, his voice smooth and coaxing, “Don’t do that. You’ll have all that friction and it won’t be able to go anywhere…You’ll make yourself ache. Let me fix it for you…” His hand inched slightly higher, fingertips ghosting the hem of your shorts, toying with the edge like he was already imagining sliding them down your legs in the backseat. You let out a sharp exhale and kept your eyes forward, but he leaned in closer, voice dropping to something deep and honeyed as he whispered:

“You know…I can smell your pheromones right? I can smell everything. I’ve barely touched you and you’re already tempting the divine…Don’t make me beg.” You swallowed hard, jaw clenched, and glanced down at your phone where it sat in the center console with the maps app still open. Estimated arrival time: 7:04 PM.

You didn’t even care about being late. But the team would care. And so would Bob, mostly because he would think you almost blew your covers, but at this point…You were putting that off to the side.

Your voice came out rougher than you intended–strained, but full of warning, “I’m going to set a fucking timer, Sentry.” He stilled slightly, his brows raising in curiosity. You glanced over at him just enough to see his eyes–those shimmering, celestial irises already brightening with every breath you took, devouring every word you were about to say.

”I’ll give you fifteen minutes, not a second more. We can have our little backseat romp session, but then I want Bob back so we can get to the beach house without another stunt like this. Deal?” He didn’t hesitate. He raised his free hand, as if he was swearing a divine oath.

”I will keep my promise,” He purred, lips tilting into something between appreciation and mischief. You groaned, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter before flipping on your turn signal.

“Let me find a fucking exit…”

Sentry reclined smugly in his seat, already victorious. “Good girl.” You rolled your eyes.

”You’re lucky the back windows are tinted.” Sentry didn’t move his hand–just let it linger, warm and steady on your thigh as you guided the car down the exit ramp toward a small turnout nestled beneath a canopy of trees. The kind of hidden roadside clearing that was perfect for a quick stop…Or a god-tier rendezvous. He was watching you with that look again. The one that belonged solely to him, not Bob. All gleam and heat and slow-moving hunger. He looked like temptation itself–bathed in the soft, dusky glow bleeding in through the windshield, his smirk half-wicked, half-worshipful.

“I could’ve asked to do it in front of a window without a tint,” he said softly, leaning back like he wasn’t plotting sin, “And you still would’ve said yes.” Your breath caught, “You like my tongue too much to care about an audience.” Your knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. You made a strained noise of disbelief in the back of your throat and gave a low grunt.

“Text the group chat,” You growled, eyes flicking to the parked gravel lot ahead, shaded and deserted. “Tell them there’s traffic, that we’re behind. Say we’re stopping to grab a case of beer. Make it sound casual.”

Sentry made a pleased little sound in his throat, already unlocking Bob’s phone with one swipe. “I love when you get like this,” He murmured as he thumbed out a message.

“Bob: Hey srry, we hit some crappy traffic, gonna be a bit late, going to stop and grab beer so no one complains ❤️❤️❤️”

”You’re putting too many hearts,” You muttered.

”I’m in a loving mood,” He replied, “Or maybe I’m just…Warming up.” He commented, returning his hand back to your thigh, giving it a squeeze. You pulled into the shaded turnout, tires crunching slowly over gravel as you eased the car to a stop beneath a thick curtain of trees. The sound of the highway faded, replaced by the gentle hum of nature and the distant whisper of the coast.

You turned off the ignition and grabbed your phone off the console, flicking to the clock app to put in the timer. You set it for fifteen minutes, and pressed start, before dropping it into the cupholder with a thunk.

Sentry was already shifting toward you in his seat, his pupils blown, and his mouth already watering in anticipation.

“Backseat. Now.” You ordered.

He obeyed without hesitation. But not before dragging his palm slowly up your inner thigh one last time, a promise etched into that final touch.

“Don’t worry,” He murmured as he unbuckled, voice dark and sweet as sin, “I’ll make every second count.” You didn’t wait for another cue. In one smooth motion, you shifted your weight and climbed between the seats–knee first, then twisting your hips as you hauled yourself into the back without ever leaving the car. It wasn’t graceful, but it was efficient–and Sentry made a sound the second your ass brushed past his face.

“Fuck,” He muttered low, and before you even had both feet off the console, his hand came down in a playful smack against your backside. You jolted, letting out a sharp gasp as you turned to glare over your shoulder.

“Seriously?”

“You’re the one waving it in my face like an invitation,” He purred, gaze locked on your curves like he was already halfway undressing you with just his stare. “You expect me not to say hello?” You flopped back onto the bags, thighs spreading automatically as you settled into the soft, uneven pile. The duffels creaked under your weight, but they cradled you perfectly–your legs open, head tipped back, heart already hammering.

Sentry followed in a slow, almost stalk-like crawl. His eyes were molten gold, his mouth parted slightly like he could already taste you.

And the moment he was between your legs, he didn’t speak.

He went straight for your shorts.

His fingers hooked into the waistband, tugging them down with one smooth pull—and your underwear followed, sliding down your thighs and calves and off with a gentle rustle. He bunched them up in his hand, then casually tossed them into the front seat like one would toss a bouquet at a wedding.

“I love this seat now,” He muttered.

You didn’t get a chance to retort–he was already back on you.

Sentry’s mouth descended onto your belly first–hot, slow kisses pressed just beneath your navel, where your shirt had rode up and exposed your skin. He worshipped his way down: lips dragging, breath heavy, hands stroking your sides like he wanted to memorize every inch before devouring the center of you.

You parted your thighs even more for him and his breath hitched.

“God, yes,” He breathed, reverent and aching, like the sight of you made him lose all of his thoughts for a second. Sentry exhaled hard through his nose as you opened yourself wider for him. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading you further like he needed to see every inch, and his gaze–bright, golden, hungry–burned a trail straight to your core.

Then he dipped his head.

The first stroke of his tongue was filthy.

A long, unrestrained lick from your entrance all the way up through your folds, ending in a slow, devastating flick against your clit that made your back arch off the bags. He moaned into you like he’d been craving this for days, like you were his personal religion.

“Fucking perfect,” he breathed against you, and then he was all mouth.

Lips, tongue, teeth–he worshipped you with all of it. He lapped at you like he was trying to memorize your taste, then sealed his mouth around your clit and sucked with a precision that made your hips jerk. You cried out, grabbing a fistful of his hair and pulling, hard, as your other hand reached out blindly and was promptly pinned to the seat.

He held you there. Just enough pressure to keep you grounded, trembling beneath the mouth of a god.

He looked up at you as he worked–eyes locked to yours, glowing with unfiltered desire. Your hips began to grind instinctively, rutting against his tongue, and he groaned–loud and guttural–at the feel of it. The vibration shot through your entire body, igniting the tension building in your gut like it was being called forward.

And just when you were about to fall apart, he pulled back.

His mouth was slick, chin shining, lips red and parted as he stared up at you with a sinful kind of reverence.

“Look at you,” He rasped, voice thick and ruined, “Already grinding on my face like a good little thing. I knew you missed this.”

You whimpered, and he grinned like he’d won a war.

Then he dove back in.

His tongue was relentless this time–messier, wetter, devouring you like you were the last thing he’d ever taste. Your legs trembled, your hips stuttered and rolled against his face, and his moans only got louder. His tongue circled your clit and sucked hard, and you shattered–with a cry and a full-body jerk as the orgasm ripped through you, fast and merciless.

Your legs clamped around his head, and still he kept going, licking through it, eyes fluttering half shut as he groaned into your core like your pleasure was the most delicious thing in existence.

You collapsed back against the duffels, panting, twitching, vision swimming.

And he still didn’t move.

Not until your thighs loosened and your hand slipped from his hair.

Then he slowly pulled back, breath heavy, lips wet, and reached casually over the seat to tap the screen of your phone.

Seven minutes left.

He looked back at you, eyes flashing.

“Plenty of time.”

Before you could catch your breath, he was on you again–this time with a low growl, gripping your hips and dragging you closer until your thighs were slung over his shoulders. You barely had time to inhale before he buried his mouth in you again, and this time, he didn’t ease in.

He was ruthless.

Sentry licked and sucked with feverish intensity, tongue working your already sensitive clit until you were writhing–overstimulated, gasping, body trying to get away even as your hips betrayed you, chasing more friction. He held you still, strong arms wrapped around your thighs, anchoring you as his tongue danced through you like he owned your pleasure.

“Please–fuck, please–” You sobbed, not even knowing what you were begging for.

“You can take it,” He murmured against you, mouth hot and sticky, “Be good for me. Come on, sweet thing…Give me one more.”

You didn’t even realize you were grinding on him again until you felt how tightly you were rocking against his face–hips pulsing, chasing that high you swore had already ruined you. Your hand reached back to the seat, desperately clutching for leverage, and your thighs began to tremble.

Sentry moaned again. Louder. Hungrier. He followed your movements, let you grind against his face while he kept sucking your clit, letting you fuck yourself on his mouth like he was starving for it.

The orgasm ripped through you even harder than the first–violent, blinding, stars behind your eyes as your entire body locked up, a cry catching in your throat as your hips seized against him. You sobbed, gasped, twitched, and he kept licking until you slumped back against the bags, shaking.

Then he pulled off slowly, tongue sliding with one last lazy lick, and kissed the inside of your thigh.

He sighed like he was full.

“You’re unbelievable,”He whispered, voice low and worshipful. “Fucking gorgeous. So good for me. Such a perfect little thing, letting me ruin you like that.”

You were still panting, barely able to lift your head.

“Sentry…” You breathed, voice hoarse. “You’re insane.”

“Mm. Maybe. But you’re glowing, and I’m proud of my work.”

He licked his lips, still tasting you, and looked dazed with pleasure.

Then he leaned up, slowly, and kissed your mouth.

It was deep, slow, and messy–your taste was still fresh on his lips, and you moaned against him without meaning to. He kissed you until you couldn’t breathe again, then finally pulled back just enough to murmur against your mouth:

“Hopefully,” He whispered, smug and tender, “You can recover for a minute or two…Before you get back to driving.” His eyes–bright and swirling with hints of caramel beneath the glow–scanned over you like he was taking inventory. Your hair was mussed, your shirt rumpled, your thighs still twitching faintly as your breath fought to steady itself. He looked proud. Not smug. Proud–like he’d just completed the holiest task of his life.

Then, gently, he reached down and smoothed his hands on the outside of your thighs, giving you one more kiss before saying:

”Let me help.” You gave him a small nod, watching as he reached toward the front seat and grabbed your discarded shorts and underwear. Carefully, he slipped your underwear back on–guiding each foot through the holes and sliding the fabric back up your thighs with featherlight fingers. His knuckles brushed your hips as he tugged the waistband gently into place. Then he leaned forward and kissed your stomach, right above the hem.

“So beautiful.” He murmured against your skin. You let out a long exhale, watching him closely as he did the same thing with your shorts–lifting and fitting them over your legs, being as gentle as possible. He let his fingers linger for just an extra second at your hips before pulling back, offering you both his hands.

”Come on,” He said softly, his voice now hinting with the familiar cadence of Bob returning beneath the surface. “Let’s get you up front before he wakes up and before your legs decide to go on strike.” You let him haul you up, giggling breathlessly as you stumbled a bit and collapsed into his chest. He steadied you with both arms wrapped around your back, holding you there as your head rested on his shoulder.

“You okay?” He asked, and you nodded into his neck.

”Yeah, just dating a guy who has a menace living inside him.” And he let out a small laugh.

————————

The car still smelled like you.

Even with the windows cracked to let the salt air in and the case of beer tucked safely in the trunk, the interior held the faintest trace of heat and sweat and you–like citrus and sugar and something warm he couldn’t name. The radio was low now, playing a soft stretch of guitar through the static as the trees thinned around you, and the narrow road shifted into something more golden. Sunlight spilled like honey through the canopy overhead, dappling the long gravel drive leading to the beach house with flickering, buttery light.

Bob leaned forward slightly in the passenger seat, eyes wide and quiet as the house came into view–wood-paneled, two-storied, all soft cedar and wide windows that caught the last of the sun and bounced it back into the sea below. You could hear waves in the distance already, even with the engine still humming beneath you. A long wraparound porch stretched across the front of the house, framed by tall grasses and uneven dunes, and parked cars were scattered along the side like lazy footprints. You recognized Walker’s truck immediately, and Alexei’s SUV beside it. Farther up, Bucky’s bike leaned half in shadow near the porch, its chrome handlebars still catching the last low light.

“Almost there,” You murmured, easing off the gas as the tires crunched softly over the gravel. You reached for your iced coffee again, now mostly melted and watered down, the condensation ring still etched into the center console.

Bob, still barefoot, tugged slightly at the hem of his black t-shirt and glanced sideways at you, his voice quieter now. “S-So…How’re we gonna pull this off?” He scratched at the back of his neck, hair still slightly mussed from the backseat, and you could see the concern flickering beneath his tone–half nerves, half anticipation. “R-Rooming together, I mean. W-We’re gonna need a story, right? Or else…”

You raised your eyebrows and cut him off with a soft, sly smile, “I just ‘accidentally’ booked a house with one less room.”

Bob blinked. “You what?”

You shrugged, eyes forward again as you navigated the last turn into the long curve of the driveway. The house loomed larger now, golden in the dying sun. “We’re the last to arrive. Someone was going to get the short end of the straw either way. This way, it just happens to be us.”

His mouth parted slightly, brow lifting with astonished admiration. “Y-You’re very clever…” He breathed, voice warm with affection. Then he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek–quick and soft, just before the car came to a full stop at the base of the porch stairs.

Your skin tingled where his lips had landed, but you didn’t let yourself react visibly. Instead, you reached down and turned off the engine.

The car fell silent, and for a moment, all you could hear was the ocean.

Bob stared up at the house like it might swallow him whole. You could feel the weight of his anxiety settle behind his chest, even though he was trying to play it cool. You slipped your hand over his, gave it a quick squeeze.

“Hey,” you whispered, “We’re going to have fun. That’s the whole point of this weekend, remember?” You raised a brow. “You know…Vacation? No missions. No compound stress. Just the beach. Board games. Barbecue. Bad drinks.”

His lips twitched. “A-And maybe some bad ideas,” He added, rubbing his thumb over the top of your hand.

“Definitely,” You agreed, grabbing your phone and slipping it into your pocket. You both got out of the car at the same time.

The air outside was humid, but not heavy—salt-kissed and breezy, laced with the low rhythmic hush of the tide. You stretched your arms overhead, your shirt lifting slightly to reveal a sliver of skin, and you caught the way Bob glanced at you before looking away quickly. Still flustered. Still sweet.

He grabbed the case of beer from the trunk while you took the small overnight bags. The sand crunched softly beneath your boots as you made your way up the porch steps, and the wooden boards creaked gently under your weight. Laughter spilled from inside–Yelena, unmistakably, and then a deeper voice you recognized as Alexei’s. The screen door rattled in the frame, propped open by a flip-flop.

You paused just before stepping inside, glancing at Bob one more time. His eyes met yours with something soft–nervous, but steady.

“We got this,” You said, nudging your shoulder into his.

He nodded. “O-One less room, huh?”

You smiled.

“Short end of the straw.”

And with that, you pushed open the door.

Inside, the beach house was warm with light–wood-paneled ceilings, string lights draped along the beams, and the cozy smell of something cooking already wafting in from the kitchen. The living room was scattered with mismatched throw pillows, a huge sectional wrapped around a coffee table stacked with snacks and card games. Someone had brought a Bluetooth speaker that was playing an old Rolling Stones song under the chatter. Walker was barefoot, sitting on the edge of the couch drinking a beer with his arm flung over the back, while Ava lay sideways across the cushions on her phone. Yelena was perched on the kitchen counter with a handful of kettle chips, and Alexei was in an apron, aggressively stirring whatever was inside a pot.

The room turned the second the screen door clicked shut behind you.

“Finally!” Yelena shouted, hopping down from the counter. “What the hell took you so long? You miss a turn and wind up in another state?”

”G-Guess there’s no service up here…G-Got stuck in traffic,” Bob explained, lifting the beer up, “A-And we decided to stop for t-this as a peace offering.” He placed the case on the island counter with a thud. Yelena narrowed her eyes.

”Mmm…Well that’s nice…But they’re warm.”

“They’re not warm,” Ava called from the couch. “They’re body temperature. Like they’ve been sweating in a hot car for hours.”

You kicked off your boots, smirking. “Then someone better put them in the fridge if you want to be hydrated by nightfall.”

Alexei gave a loud cheer and clapped Bob on the back hard enough to jostle him. “Bob! You pack swim trunk, or are we going to encourage skinny dipping?”

Bob blushed so violently it touched the tips of his ears. “I-I packed,” He said quickly.

You reached for your bag and motioned casually to the stairs. “Which room are we getting?”

Bucky appeared from the hallway, arms crossed, already looking like he’d claimed the bedroom with the best view. “There’s one left. Top of the stairs, last door on your right. Double bed. Sucks to be the last ones here…”

You nodded, keeping your expression even.

“Guess we drew the short straw Bob…Hope you like sleeping on the floor.” You joked.

You followed Bob up the narrow, creaky staircase, the wood groaning under your footsteps and the hum of laughter still trailing from the kitchen behind you. The upstairs hallway smelled like cedar and sea salt. A tall window at the end of the corridor cast a rectangle of gold light across the hardwood, and you could hear the distant, rhythmic crash of waves through the thin summer walls.

“L-Last door on the right,” Bob said softly, glancing back at you over his shoulder. His voice was still a little hoarse–quiet from nerves or from what had happened earlier in the car, you couldn’t quite tell. Probably both.

The room wasn’t big, but it was perfect.

A double bed was pressed against the wall, low and wide, with fresh white sheets and a faded blue quilt that looked like it had been dried in the sun one too many times. The window above the bed was cracked open, letting in a soft breeze that lifted the edges of the curtains gently like breath. Through the slats, you could see the glittering edge of the ocean just beyond the trees, gold sun sinking into darkening blue. A small dresser sat in one corner, its top empty except for a lone seashell bowl and a lamp that hadn’t been turned on. A fan clacked softly in the ceiling overhead.

Bob hovered in the doorway for a second, like he didn’t quite believe this was real.

You stepped past him, tossing your bag onto the foot of the bed and letting yourself take a slow, indulgent breath.

“Not bad,” You said, turning back to face him with a playful tilt of your mouth. “Definitely cozy.”

Bob let out a breathy laugh, finally crossing the threshold and closing the door behind him with a quiet click. “I-It’s perfect,” He murmured. His eyes drifted to the bed, then back to you. “D-Do you think…W-We’ll be okay sharing that?”

You raised your eyebrows. “I’ve seen you take up more space on a couch than that bed,” you teased, “I think we’ll manage.”

He smiled, stepping closer, his hands still fiddling with the hem of his shirt like he wasn’t sure what to do with them.

The tension was different now–softer, quieter. The chaos of arriving was behind you. The shared room was secured. The door was closed. The window was open to the salt air and the hush of waves.

And you were alone.

Bob reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his fingers barely grazing your skin.

“Y-You were amazing earlier…In the car,” He said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I-I know it’s not always easy when he comes out in my moments of happiness like that. I just–wanted you to know I’m grateful. F-For you. For…Everything.”

Your chest ached at the way he said it. Honest. Bare. Like you were holding his whole heart. You stepped in, wrapping your arms loosely around his waist. He folded into you like a tide, resting his chin gently on your shoulder, his arms sliding around you in return. His breath was warm against your neck as he kissed the smooth skin there. You turned your head slightly, just enough to let your nose brush against his jaw, and then you whispered:

“I love every piece of you, Bob. Every single one. The quiet parts, the powerful parts, even the ones that scare you a little. They’re all you—and I love them all.” His breath hitched ever so slightly, and his arms tightened around you in that way that always made your heart ache a little, because it was like he was trying to make sure you didn’t float away.

Then you added, just a little softer, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips:

“And, hey… it’s also kind of a perk that when you’re at peak Sentry, you’re practically putty in my hands.”

Bob huffed a quiet laugh—half embarrassed, half endeared—his forehead tipping against yours. “Th-That’s not fair,” he murmured, grinning shyly, “Y-You already have me wrapped around your finger without any celestial interference…” You opened your mouth to respond, only to be interrupted by Yelena.

”DINNER IS IN TEN!” Her voice carried like a bombshell from the kitchen, followed by the distinct clatter of a pot lid being thrown into the sink.

”STOP THROWING THINGS, WE’RE RENTING THIS PLACE!” Ava yelled. You let out a little groan, and pressed your forehead to his, hearing a soft laugh escape his throat.

“W-We should go down before she comes up here with a spatula…”

”Or worse…A truth serum.” You added, taking a step back, “Let’s go, pretty boy.”

———————

After dinner, everyone moved in slow, satisfied motions–bellies full, limbs relaxed. Alexei’s strange but oddly delicious pasta had vanished quickly, and someone had cracked open the beer before it could fully chill. The plates were stacked haphazardly beside the sink, and instead of drawing straws or assigning chores, a quiet sort of rhythm formed.

Bob washed.

You dried.

Yelena stacked the dishes with unnecessary aggression while muttering under her breath about how she always got “dish-duty by proximity.” Ava supervised, occasionally leaning over to correct the stacking form while sipping wine from a novelty mug. Bucky wandered in halfway through the clean-up with a dish towel over his shoulder and somehow managed to avoid doing anything except drying one fork and then disappearing again. You didn’t even know where Walker had gone, but the open back door suggested he’d escaped onto the porch with the Bluetooth speaker and a fresh beer, and Alexei had sprawled out on the couch.

Eventually, with the kitchen cleaned and the sink no longer threatening to overflow, the group gathered in the living room. Someone dimmed the lights. Bob claimed a spot on the corner of the couch, and you casually sank down beside him. A blanket was draped over the back cushions–threadbare and too warm for the weather, but you tugged it down anyway, letting it spill across your lap and his.

You didn’t say a word.

You just reached for his hand beneath it.

He let you take it, let your fingers lace with his, and his thumb drew slow, steady circles against your palm as the movie began to play. Something old. Familiar. Background noise for a room full of ex-operatives pretending to be ordinary.

No one noticed you. No one questioned the blanket. Maybe they were too full, or too tired. Maybe they didn’t care. But Bob’s breathing slowed the second your hand found his, and you could feel the way his shoulders eased against the cushions, just from that simple, hidden touch.

The movie ran long. People started peeling off one by one. First Walker, then Ava. Alexei disappeared upstairs muttering something about needing to “test the mattress.” Yelena stayed the longest–curled up in a chair with her hoodie pulled tight–before eventually yawning, retreating to her room soon after.

That left just you and Bob.

The TV still played–now quiet, some after-midnight rerun that neither of you were watching.

Bob shifted slightly, his hand still linked with yours under the blanket, and you could see the way the light touched the soft parts of his face, casting long shadows under his lashes and along the slope of his cheekbone.

You turned your head toward him, voice low.

“Hey,” You murmured, “Wanna go for a walk?”

He blinked slowly, like you’d caught him in the middle of a thought, then nodded. “Y-Yeah…It’s cooler now, right?”

“Much.” You smiled, pulling the blanket off and rising to your feet. “Tomorrow we’ll be roasting in the sun. Let’s take advantage while we can.”

You grabbed a hoodie from the back of a chair and slipped it over your head as Bob did the same, and together, you padded barefoot across the wooden floors, out the back door, and down the stairs that led through the grass-covered dunes toward the shoreline.

The sky had settled into a deep indigo, the last hints of twilight drained away, and the stars had begun to peek through the clouds above. The moon was just enough–silver-bright and low, casting its glow across the dark stretch of water. The tide dragged in slow and lazy, brushing against the shore with a soft shush-shush that sounded like breathing.

You and Bob walked in silence for a while, shoulders occasionally brushing, your steps syncing as if you’d done this a hundred times before. There were no footprints ahead of you, only the ones you left behind.

Eventually, you stopped near a slope of dry sand that overlooked the water. You sat first, tucking your legs up loosely beneath you. Bob dropped beside you, not too close, but not far–like his gravity always pulled just slightly toward yours.

You tilted your head back, looking at the stars, breathing in the fresh air, the saltiness of the ocean stinging your lungs slightly.

“I could stay here forever,” You whispered.

Bob glanced over, eyes warm. “T-The beach?”

You nodded. “The quiet. The breeze. The water…All of it. It’s peaceful.”

He was quiet for a moment, watching your profile.

“D-Do you think about that a lot?” He asked softly, “L-Leaving the Thunderbolts and just h-having a normal life?” Your fingers curled into the sand.

“Sometimes,” You admitted. “Not in a running-away kind of way. Just in a…‘What would life be like if it wasn’t chaos all the time’ kind of way.”

He nodded slowly. “Y-Yeah…”

You turned your head toward him, the wind catching the tips of your hair. “You ever think about what you’d do if you weren’t on the team?” He reached up and scratched the back of his neck, shifting a little bit so he was a bit closer to you.

His shoulders rose with a breath, and he let it out slowly–like he was weighing something, choosing the words carefully before letting them go.

“Well…” He said quietly, “I-I think…if I never met you guys, I probably would’ve still been in that b-box in the vault…”

You turned your head to look at him. His voice didn’t shake, but the words held a kind of weight that settled between you, soft but immense. “O-Or most likely dead and forgotten,” He added, more gently now, like the thought had been lingering for a long time. “But…If I wasn’t trapped in that b-box, or if I didn’t volunteer for the Sentry serum… I probably still would be on meth. S-Still strung out. N-Not really contributing to the world l-like I am now.” He gave a soft laugh, small and humorless, but not bitter. Just…real. Then, without another word, Bob leaned back into the sand, stretching his long limbs out with a soft grunt, his eyes fixed on the sky overhead. He looked younger like this–bathed in moonlight, barefaced and barefoot, his silhouette framed by starlight and the faint shimmer of ocean spray.

You followed him down, shifting to lay beside him so your heads were level, your hair brushing the edge of his shoulder. You turned your face toward his, and after a moment, reached for his hand. He gave it willingly–alway-sand your fingers threaded easily through his. The warmth of him, even now, pulsed steady and grounding against your skin.

There was a pause before he spoke again. When he did, his voice was quieter, more vulnerable.

“But I… I’m glad everything happened the way it did,” He whispered, eyes still on the stars, “C-Cause I wouldn’t have met you.”

Your heart squeezed. His thumb was trembling slightly against your palm, like the gravity of what he was saying was pushing through his whole body. And still, his voice held that stunned sort of wonder, like he still couldn’t believe you were real.

You turned to him fully, propping yourself on your elbow as you leaned over, brushing his light brown hair gently back from his forehead. He blinked slowly, his eyes finding yours in the dark, and you saw everything in them. The gratitude. The ache. The awe.

Then you kissed him.

Soft. Gentle. Like the moonlight itself had dipped between you and pressed your mouths together.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t lustful. It was slow and full–like every word he couldn’t find was poured into that one, quiet connection. And when you pulled back, you kept your hand against his cheek, letting your thumb brush along the high arc of it, just beneath his eye.

“I’m glad too,” you whispered, your voice low, full of a warm, aching kind of honesty. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you found us. And I’m really…really glad you found me.”

His breath hitched. You felt it under your fingertips. But his smile was soft, full of something steady and glowing.

“I’d choose you,” You added, gently. “In any timeline. On any team. With or without the serum…I’d still fall for you.”

Bob turned his face into your hand a little, eyes fluttering closed, as he whispered back:

“I’d fall for you too. A-Again and again.”

You lay down beside him fully now, your head on his shoulder, your hand still holding his. The waves whispered in the distance. The stars blinked above you. And for a little while, there was nothing else in the world but the two of you–quiet, safe, and absolutely seen.

——————

The room was still dark, kissed only by a faint, early gray light leaking in through the slats of the blinds. Outside, the sound of the tide had softened into something gentler–just the hush-hush rhythm of saltwater sliding over sand.

Inside, the air was warm. Heavy with body heat. Still.

You blinked slowly awake, muscles stiff from sleep, and realized almost instantly that you hadn’t moved in hours.

Bob was wrapped around you like a blanket.

One long arm curved over your waist, the other curled under your head like a makeshift pillow. His chest was pressed to your back, bare and slow with each breath, and his legs were tangled with yours beneath the sun-dried quilt. His forehead rested against the top of your shoulder, and his mouth was half-open against your skin—breathing hot little puffs that clung to your collarbone, sticky with sleep.

You let out a quiet sigh, shifting just enough to test the weight of his grip.

He didn’t stir.

You tried again, this time with a little more effort–attempting to slide your leg out from between his–but the second you moved, his arm tightened around you instinctively. A low, sleepy sound rumbled from his throat, not quite a groan… more like a murmur. His hips shifted a little, like he was seeking you out.

That’s when you felt his erection through his soft jersey sleep shorts, pressed flush against your lower back. He didn’t even seem aware of it yet–he was still snoring lightly, his mouth sticking slightly against your skin with each breath–but the heat of it, the weight, was undeniable. And growing.

You let your eyes slip closed for a second and tried to breathe through the flare of arousal that pulsed low in your core.

Then you felt his nose nuzzle against your shoulder.

Followed by a kiss.

Slow. Barely-there. Like his body was already making decisions his mind hadn’t caught up with yet. Another kiss came next, right where your shoulder met your neck–and this time, his hips twitched forward, just a subtle roll, like instinct.

You let out a soft, accidental sound–something between a sigh and a quiet gasp–and felt him tense behind you.

Bob’s breath caught.

And then you felt his erection twitch against you, pulsing hot through the barriers between you both.

“…Crap,” He whispered hoarsely, voice thick with sleep. His hand flexed against your stomach, like he just realized he was holding you that tightly. “S-Sorry…”

You smiled softly, still facing away, voice barely audible. “Don’t apologize.” You turned your head slightly, just enough for your nose to brush his cheek. His breath stuffered, and he let out a quiet, fragile sound–a mix between a sigh and a groan–as his hips rolled forward again. The heat of him pressed fully into the curve of your backside this time, unmistakably eager now, and definitely awake.

His hand slipped up your torso, fingers smoothing gently along your stomach.

”Y-You know, I was just d-dreaming about you…” He rolled his hips again–slow, sweet pressure that sent a flush of heat straight through your belly. You hummed.

”Well…Now I’m right in front of you, so what are you going to do?” You asked, your bottom lip slipping between your teeth. He groaned and nuzzled into the crook of your neck, kissing just below your ear as his hand slid lower, gently tugging at the waistband of your sleep shorts.

”I-I’m gonna take care of you.” He replied, breath catching as he pulled them down slowly, being extra careful not to pull away from the heat of your body. You lifted your hips slightly to help him, and the material slipped down over your thighs, pooling beneath the covers.

Then you felt him shifting behind you–his own sleep shorts sliding down just enough for skin to meet skin. He pressed a kiss between your shoulder blades as he brought your leg over his thigh, guiding you open with gentle, trembling fingers.

You could feel the tip of him, hot and slow, sliding through your wetness–teasing, and patient. And then, with a quiet exhale, he eased himself in.

The stretch was slow and aching–every inch of him pressing deeper until he was fully buried inside you, his forehead resting against your shoulder, his breathing shallow and unsteady.

You gasped, eyes fluttering, and he immediately reached up, covering your mouth with his hand. His palm was warm, a little shaky, but careful–pressing just enough to muffle you without smothering.

“Shh…” He whispered, kissing your neck as his hips began to move, slow and deep, “Y-You’ll wake the whole house…”

His voice was wrecked already–raspy and breathless, full of longing. His movements were steady but aching with restraint, his body coiled tightly behind yours as he rocked into you with each measured thrust.

“You f-feel so good,” He cooed against your shoulder, voice almost broken, “So warm…So soft around me…”

Your back arched involuntarily, your body melting into his as he moved inside you, breath brushing over your skin like a prayer.

“I–I dream about this,” He confessed, his hand tightening just a little over your mouth when he felt you moan. “Every night, I dream about being inside you like this…” His other hand gripped your thigh where it was draped over his, holding you open for him as he pressed deeper, grinding instead of thrusting, like he needed every second of contact.

“You’re my favorite feeling in the world,” He breathed, voice cracking as he kissed the curve of your shoulder, “N-Nothing else even comes close…”

You whimpered behind his hand, and he felt it–your sound against his palm, your body trembling as you clenched around him. It made him groan, a soft broken sound he buried against your skin.

“G-God,” He gasped, “You’re perfect, you’re everything…”

His hips stuttered, and you felt him shiver behind you–he was close. So close. And trying so hard to keep it together.

But the way you felt around him, the way your body rocked back to meet him with each slow push, the way your legs trembled and your hands clenched the sheets…

It was unraveling him.

“Come for me,” He whispered, muffling another moan against your skin. “P-Please… Let me feel it…”

You didn’t need much more.

The combination of his voice, the press of his hips, the hand over your mouth holding you in that secret, quiet space–it sent you over the edge. You arched into him, muffled cries caught in his palm as your body clenched and shuddered with pleasure.

He groaned when he felt you fall apart, hips jerking as he buried himself deeper one last time, then stilled–shuddering, gasping softly into the hollow of your shoulder as he let go filling you up with warm hot ropes of cum. The room was silent, save for the sound of your breath mingling with his.

He didn’t move for a long moment, he just stayed there, inside you, holding you close with one arm wrapped tightly around your waist, the other still gently covering your mouth until your breathing slowed.

Then, with a soft hum, he kissed your shoulder one more time, and pulled out slowly, hearing a muffled gasp leave your throat. His hand dropped from your mouth, and his fingers brushed your cheek gentle before going down to rest on your waist. You turned in his arms, curling toward him, and he shifted back instinctively, giving you space–but not distance.

His face was flushed, glowing faintly in the dim early light. His lips were kiss-swollen, his hair a mess of soft strands sticking to his forehead. And those eyes–half-lidded, shining, still dazed with the echo of your body around him–blinked slowly as he met your gaze.

You leaned in, brushing your mouth against his, slow and sweet, lingering just long enough to taste the sleep still on his lips. When you pulled back, your voice was low, your words tinted with something warm and teasing.

“Y’know,” You murmured, “It sucks we can’t do that more often.”Bob huffed a quiet laugh, cheeks tinting even deeper pink.

“Y-Yeah…” He mumbled, then kissed you again, quick and tender. “H-Hopefully when we’re ready to t-tell them…It’ll give us more time to do this.”You smiled against his mouth and reached up to brush your fingers along the side of his face, thumb stroking just beneath his cheekbone.

“You’ll be moving your stuff into my room, I hope.” He nodded immediately, voice barely a whisper.

“O-Of course. A-All of it.” You tucked your head beneath his chin, letting your fingers trace light circles across his bare chest.

“Good,” You whispered. “Then maybe we won’t have to sneak around anymore. Bob let out a soft, breathy laugh, and tightened his arms around you, pulling you closer.

“I-I don’t mind sneaking around, but having more mornings like this with you would be so much b-better.” You sighed contentedly into his chest, then tilted your head up and kissed the underside of his jaw.

”As romantic as that is,” You started, “I have to pee.” A groggy whine escaped his throat the moment you tried to wiggle out of his hold, but he released you–albeit reluctantly–letting his arms fall away with a dramatic sigh.

“Such a sour puss,” You teased, with a smile as you stood and grabbed a fresh pair of shorts from your bag. He mumbled something incoherent into the pillow, as you disappeared into the small adjoining bathroom, flicking on the light before sitting down on the toilet with a sigh. You stayed there for a moment, letting his cum drip out of you, while your muscles began to ache slightly in the most satisfying way. You waited a few minutes there, until you wiped, flushed, slipped on your fresh pair of shorts and went to wash your hands, splashing some cold water on your face to shake the sleep off of it. When you glanced in the mirror, you saw your reflection looking flushed and soft, your lips swollen and your hair slightly mussed.

You smiled.

Moments later, you tiptoed downstairs barefoot, the old wooden steps creaking softly beneath your weight. The morning light was barely creeping into the beach house, casting long shadows through the kitchen windows and illuminating the dust in the air like glitter suspended in water.

You were alone for about ten seconds.

Then–

“Morning.”

You startled a little, glancing toward the living room, where Bucky sat slouched at the edge of the couch, already halfway through a mug of coffee. His hair was tied back, a few loose strands falling around his face, and his voice was scratchy with sleep. He was wearing sweatpants and a black t-shirt which allowed his vibranium arm to refract the morning light that shined through the windows.

“Morning,” You said smoothly after you caught your breath, opening the cupboard to grab a mug and filling it at the tap before reaching for the coffee pot. The smell was heavenly–dark and rich and blessedly bitter. He watched you for a moment, then cleared his throat.

”Long night?” You froze with the coffee pot tilted halfway to your mug.

Just for a second.

Then, slowly—calmly—you finished pouring, set the pot back on the burner, and turned around, your mug cradled casually in your hands.

“Yeah,” you said, letting your voice stay light, breezy. “A little. Bob and I stayed up for a bit after everyone went to bed.”

Bucky’s eyes didn’t waver. He took another slow sip of his coffee, and when he lowered the mug, there was a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I know,” he said.

Your breath caught.

“I saw you guys on the beach, actually.” You didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t flinch. Because you didn’t know what he meant by that, was he watching for long? Or did he just catch a glimpse of the both of you? Those were the burning questions that lingered in your mind. But your poker face didn’t falter. Not yet. You took a slow sip of your coffee.

“Oh?”

“Mm-hmm,” He nodded, swirling the liquid in his mug. “You were sitting real close. Talking. Then lying down together for a while.” His voice was still scratchy with sleep, but his tone was deliberate. Easy. Controlled. Testing.

“I figured it was one of those ‘Thunderbolts trauma-bond’ kind of talks,” He added, voice edged with amusement. “Until you kissed him.” The heat in your cheeks crawled down your neck like a slow steady burn, and you swallowed hard, eyes flicking away from Bucky’s unreadable gaze, attempting to play it off.

“Chalk it up to…a heat of the moment thing,” you said lightly, forcing a shrug as you stared down into your coffee. “It was a nice night. Things just…Felt right, and we y’know kissed, that’s all…”

But Bucky didn’t budge.

He just stared at you–calm, patient, eyes sharp even through the softness of morning light–and took another sip of his coffee.

“Y’know…” He started, tone deceptively casual, “I had my suspicions for a while, especially with the way he gets all boyish and giddy around you…But I never had proof, though…Till I saw your location yesterday when you two were supposedly stuck in traffic.” You glanced up sharply, your heartbeat thundering in your chest. He didn’t look angry, it was just a glance of knowing.

”And I saw you weren’t on the highway anymore, you’d pulled off. And about twenty minutes went by before your pin started moving again…Then with the kiss, everything really clicked…” You felt the blood drain from your face only to rush back hotter than before. Your pulse hammered in your ears. Slowly, shakily, you set your coffee mug down on the counter with a quiet clink, hands trembling slightly.

“So…How long have you and him been seeing each other like that?” He asked.

”…Two months,” You admitted, barely above a whisper. Bucky nodded once, taking that in. His jaw ticked, and he exhaled through his nose.

“How long are you planning to hide it from us?” He asked, not accusing–just…Curious. Honest. You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his.

“We just wanted to keep it a thing between us…Until we were ready,” You said, your voice thin, your throat tight. “Until it wasn’t so new. Until we weren’t worried that…If it went public, people would start treating him like a bomb again.” Bucky’s shoulders sank a little, his eyes flicking away for just a second–guilt passing like a cloud over his expression. He nodded slowly, rubbing a hand over his jaw.

“I get that,” He said finally. Then he sighed, the weight of it long and tired. “But…Are you gonna tell the rest of the team?” You hesitated.

”Are you?” You retorted, which made him shake his head.

”That’s not my call…That’s up to you two. I just…I feel bad that you think you can’t tell us. That it’s something you gotta hide.” He set his mug down, bracing his hands loosely on the counter.

“I mean, most of us have our suspicions. Hell, Ava’s been keeping score on who catches the most looks between you two. But that’s different than hearing it straight from you.” His eyes flicked to yours again, gentler this time. “It’s different when it’s confirmed.” Your mouth was dry. Your heart still raced. But something in your chest eased–just a little.

“…Are you mad?” You asked softly.

He shook his head again. “No. Just…I wish you felt like you could trust us with something that clearly means a lot to you.”

You swallowed thickly, nodding. “It does,” You whispered. “He does.”

“Then maybe it’s time to stop pretending,” He said, pushing away from the counter. “Because if he’s yours…Then you deserve to be honest about it and be proud about it.” You nodded, staring down at your mug again. Bucky turned to head back toward the living room, then paused.

“For what it’s worth…” He said without looking back, “I think you’re good for each other. Might even be the first damn bit of softness either of you has ever had.” Then he left the conversation.

——————

The sun was already high by the time the house started to stir again. Someone had opened the screen door to let the breeze through, and the smell of sunscreen and brewing coffee lingered in the warm air.

Back upstairs, you stood near the dresser, slipping into your bikini with your back to the bed. It was a modest one–navy, with a soft scoop neckline and high-rise bottoms. Comfortable. Secure. Practical. And Bob was watching you like you were peeling the sun itself from the sky.

He sat propped against the pillows, his soft black t-shirt wrinkled, his bare legs still stretched out across the quilt. He didn’t speak at first–just blinked slowly, jaw slack, like he hadn’t quite recovered from waking up with you in his arms. But then he smiled. A slow, crooked thing.

“You look…” He started, then cleared his throat, his voice catching a little. “R-Really good in that.”

You slipped your coverup over your head–a breezy white linen thing that barely touched your thighs–and turned to face him with a raised brow.

“You mean I don’t look like a walking sunscreen ad?” You teased.

He shook his head, grinning. “Y-You look like a goddess…In a very modest disguise.”

You chuckled, padding over to the bed and grabbing your sunglasses. “Well, modest disguise or not… I was thinking,” You said, more seriously now, “Maybe we should tell them tonight…About us…” Bob’s smile softened.

“If you feel like that’s what you want to do,” He said gently, shifting to sit upright. “I’ll follow your lead…Whatever you want.”

You stepped closer, and he leaned up, brushing a kiss over your lips–slowly mirroring the softness of yours. Just enough to make your shoulders melt a little.

“B-But if you’re feeling off about it,” He murmured against your mouth, “We don’t have to. We can w-wait.” You sighed, resting your forehead against his for a beat.

“Well…There’s no point in keeping it a secret if Bucky already knows.” Bob nodded, fingers brushing lightly over your hip.

“Okay. So…We’ll tell them tonight. O-Or tomorrow. Whenever you want. Like I said.”

You gave him a small smile, kissed his cheek, and grabbed the sunscreen from the nightstand.

”This is why I love you so much.”

—————————

Outside, the beach was a sun-drenched haze.

The heat was intense–sharp and golden, radiating off the sand in visible waves. Everyone had already claimed their spots along the shore: Ava and Yelena were sprawled on towels like lizards, Walker was playing a vaguely competitive game of paddle ball with Alexei, and Bucky had parked himself under a battered umbrella with a book and a massive bottle of water.

You and Bob set up beneath a second umbrella, tucked in the shade where the breeze still managed to kiss your skin.

Bob flopped down beside you on the oversized beach towel, already tugging at the collar of his shirt. “T-The heat is already too much for me,” he muttered, sweeping his damp hair off his forehead. “A-Add the sun on top of it all though? It’s like I’m going to suffocate.”

You laughed, sipping from your bottle of water. “You literally have a sun god in you. I’m not surprised you haven’t gotten heat stroke yet.” He shook his head solemnly. “D-Don’t take it off the table. That might still happen.” You both laughed, your heads tilting together like magnets. After a few quiet moments of comfortable lounging, you stretched your legs out and let your head tip back.

“Hey,” You said casually, offering him the sunscreen. “Think you could do my back?” Bob took the bottle without hesitation, twisting the cap and squirting some into his palm before warming it between his hands. You pulled your coverup off slowly, letting it pool behind you, and turned so your back faced him. His hands were warm–steady as ever–as he spread the lotion across your shoulders, down the length of your spine in slow, tender strokes.

Then, as he leaned in to reach the small of your back, his breath ghosted over your ear.

“You know…” He murmured, his voice low and teasing, “If we weren’t out in public…I’d be making you moan into the sand right now.” You froze, eyes widening slightly. Your breath caught in your throat, and you turned just enough to glare over your shoulder.

“You can’t say that out here,” You hissed, cheeks flushing with warmth that had nothing to do with the sun. “You’re being a horn dog.” Bob smiled, slow and wicked, his hands still dangerously close to your hips.

“C-Can’t help it,” He whispered, secretly brushing his lips against your shoulder, a move that nobody noticed before pulling back like he didn’t just say something absolutely filthy, “You s-started it with the modest disguise.” You reached for the sunscreen and smacked him lightly in the chest with it.

“Keep it up,” you warned, “And I’m gonna make you wrestle Walker in the sand just to get all that energy out.” He grinned.

”I-It wouldn’t be the same as rolling around in it with you though…” You laughed again–loud and bright–and tucked yourself into his side as he pulled the umbrella down a little lower to block the worst of the glare. And for a moment, you just sat there–hidden in the shade, hidden in plain sight–wrapped in sunscreen and secrecy and a kind of love you both knew wouldn’t stay secret much longer.

———————

Dinner that night was loud.

The long driftwood table was crowded with mismatched chairs, benches, and half-sand-dusted Thunderbolts wearing tank tops and oversized hoodies. The sky outside had softened into a dusky lavender, and the kitchen was warm with the scent of grilled shrimp, charred corn, and garlic butter. Ava had taken the lead on the stove this time, refusing help and swatting away every wandering hand that got near her skillet. Alexei had uncorked a bottle of cheap white wine and was pouring it generously for everyone, and Walker was arguing over playlist control with Yelena, who had threatened to smash his phone with a meat tenderizer if he didn’t leave the music alone.

You sat beside Bob, as usual.

Close enough that your thighs brushed when you shifted. Close enough that your elbows bumped whenever you reached for the same thing. You waited until the table was full–until everyone had food and was midway through their first drink. Then you reached over, slid your hand into Bob’s under the table, and gave it a quick squeeze.

He looked at you with wide eyes, his fingers instinctively curling around yours, and you offered him a soft, steady nod.

He cleared his throat.

“I–um.” He glanced around the table. “S-Sorry to interrupt, I just–uh, w-we had something we wanted to tell you.”

The table quieted. Forks paused mid-air. Conversations slowed. All eyes slowly turned toward you both. You exhaled, heart thudding, and looked around the room.

“Bob and I are together,” You said simply. “Like…For real. And we have been…For a couple months now.” The silence lasted for a full beat.

Then—

“Thank God,” Ava groaned, tossing her napkin onto the table. “I thought I was going insane watching you two eye-fuck each other every day like nobody was noticing.”

“Finally!” Yelena barked, pointing a chip at you. “I said it three missions ago. I said, those two are absolutely sneaking off during recon debrief, and everyone thought I was being dramatic.”

“You are dramatic,” Walker muttered into his glass.

“But also right,” Bucky added, voice dry. “It was obvious.” Alexei beamed and reached across the table to smack Bob’s shoulder.

“You little sneaks…I respect dedication.” Bob flushed crimson from the ears down.

“Y-You guys are not…Mad?” He asked, looking around the table, voice tentative. Yelena rolled her eyes at him.

”Bob. Come on…You think we wouldn’t accept you dating someone who clearly loves the shit out of you?”

Walker pointed his fork at you. “Honestly, we’d have accepted it even if we had doubts. But we don’t. You’re good together. It’s obvious.”

You felt your chest tighten with sudden emotion. Bob’s hand was still wrapped around yours under the table, his thumb rubbing slow, nervous circles against your palm, but now…It felt steady. Reassured. Warm in a way that made your ribs ache.

“W-We just wanted to keep it between us until we were sure,” He said softly. “Until it felt…safe.”

Bucky nodded slowly. “We get that. But for the record? It was always safe.”

Yelena leaned in, smirking. “Okay but we need details now.”

“Oh my god,” You groaned, “Absolutely not.”

“Wait, wait–who made the first move?” Ava asked, chin propped on her hand like she was taking notes.

“I bet it was you,” Walker pointed his fork directly to you, “You seem like the type who would take the reins.” You rolled your eyes.

”It was actually a fairly mutual decision.” And everyone bursted out into an array of other questions.

——————

The bedroom door clicked softly shut behind you.

Outside, the house had finally settled into silence–punctuated only by distant waves and the creak of cooling floorboards. Inside, the room was wrapped in that velvety kind of darkness only a summer night could offer, lit just barely by the moon spilling through the open window, catching on the rumpled folds of the quilt and casting the softest glow across Bob’s bare chest.

He was sitting at the edge of the bed, wearing a t-shirt and boxers, with his legs spread and elbows resting on his knees. His fingers intertwined loosely between them. He glanced up as you entered, eyes soft, tired, and full of something that you were still processing. You padded over, barefoot and warm from the day, and settled beside him.

For a while, neither of you said anything. You just sat there in the quiet, breathing the same salt-laced air.

Then Bob exhaled slowly.

“T-That went…way better than I thought it would,” he said, his voice a little hoarse from wine and nerves.

You nodded, leaning your shoulder into his. “Told you.”

He gave a soft laugh–one of those short, breathless ones that still sounded like disbelief. His hand reached for yours, fingers curling around your knuckles.

“I-I’m still not used to people reacting like that…Like I’m not something they have to tiptoe around.”

You squeezed his hand gently. “You’re not a liability, Bob. You’re ours. And you’re mine. That means something to them.”

His lips parted slightly, like he didn’t have the right words.

“I’m serious,” You whispered, turning more fully toward him. “They saw how happy you are. And maybe…They saw how much I need you too.”

His throat bobbed. He blinked slowly.

“You make everything feel easier,” He said finally. “T-Talking. Existing. Being me.” His voice cracked just a little on that last word, and his eyes dropped to where your hands were still joined.

“Y-You’ve handled everything so well. Hiding us, balancing missions, b-being my anchor even when things get hard…” He glanced up again, his gaze glassy but steady. “I’m just…I can’t stop being a-amazed by you.” You leaned in and kissed him–soft and slow, your nose brushing his cheek.

“I love you Bob.” You whispered, against his lips, as he gently kissed yours.

”I love you too.” He replied, before kissing you again. It deepened before either of you could take another breath. It started soft–gentle and reverent, like the words that had just passed between you–but it didn’t stay that way.

Bob groaned against your mouth when you pushed him back gently by the shoulders, guiding him down until he was flat on his back against the cool quilt. His hands instinctively found your hips as you climbed over him, settling on his lap. Your thighs bracketed his, and the weight of you on top of him made his breath hitch, chest rising hard beneath his thin shirt.

“God,” He whispered, eyes wide, pupils blown. “Y-You look…”

You didn’t give him a chance to finish. You kissed him again–wet, open-mouthed, and slow–licking into his mouth until he gasped. You swallowed the sound eagerly, rolling your hips just enough to make him groan. His fingers gripped your waist tighter, already trembling.

“I want to go down on you,” You murmured against his lips, voice low and teasing. His whole body jolted.

“Y-Yeah?” His voice broke like it couldn’t contain the need. “P-Please–I mean–y-you d-don’t have to but I–” He nodded too fast, already breathless, already desperate.

You smiled as you slid down his body, leaving a trail of kisses over his clothed chest, and his stomach, pausing just above the waistband of his boxers. You could feel how hard he was–thick and twitching beneath the fabric–and when you pulled the waistband down, he nearly whimpered.

He was flushed and already leaking.

”All this…From just a little kissing hmm?” You whispered, your voice thick with play, with hunger, with affection.

Bob’s breath caught in his throat as your hand wrapped around the base of him, slow and deliberate. You gave him one lazy stroke, then another, your thumb swiping over the bead of slick at the tip. He trembled beneath you–hips twitching slightly, fingers knotted in the quilt beside his thighs.

And when you leaned in and dragged your tongue up the underside of him again, he gasped–loud and sharp–his body tensing so hard you could feel the pulse hammering through him.

You wrapped your lips around the head, sealing him in the wet heat of your mouth.

Bob choked on a moan.

“F-Fuck–oh my god–” His voice cracked, ragged and breathless.

You eased down slowly, taking more of him in, letting your tongue glide along every ridge and vein as your lips slipped lower. He was big–too big to take all at once without effort–and your jaw ached almost instantly, but you didn’t stop. You wanted this. You wanted to see him fall apart.

You bobbed your head with slow precision, using your hand to stroke what your mouth couldn’t reach, slick and steady. The sounds he made–desperate, soft groans and whispered gasps–were the most beautiful thing you’d ever heard. He was so sensitive, so responsive, his hips jerking up involuntarily every time you took him deeper.

One thrust caught you off guard–sharp, too sudden–and you gagged softly around him.

Bob froze.

“I-I’m sorry–I didn’t mean to–”

You moaned around him, eyes flicking up to his, and kept going.

The moment your throat relaxed and you pushed yourself lower, he completely lost it.

“F-Fuck, baby–oh god, please–” His hand came down, gripping your hair gently but tight enough to anchor him. His voice was wrecked, trembling with need. “D-Don’t stop–I’m s-so close–”

Your lips slid over him faster now, your mouth a mess of spit and warmth, your hand stroking him in rhythm as you hollowed your cheeks and sucked harder. You could feel him twitching, his thighs tensing, his hips stuttering as he neared the edge.

“G-Gonna–oh fuck, I–” He cried out suddenly, loud and sharp as his hips jolted once, then again–

He came hard, deep down your throat, his whole body arching off the bed as you swallowed him greedily.

You didn’t pull away. You stayed there, lips sealed tight, swallowing every hot pulse of him as it spilled into your mouth. He was shaking beneath you–his thighs trembling, his fingers tangled in your hair, a broken litany of your name falling from his lips like a prayer.

Only when he finally sagged back against the mattress, panting, did you ease off of him–your lips slick, your mouth swollen, and your eyes dark with want.

You wiped the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand, then crawled back up his body–slow, deliberate, predatory.

Bob’s chest was still heaving when you kissed him.

The moment your mouth met his again, he groaned deep in his throat–like the taste of himself on your tongue shattered whatever composure he had left. His hand slid into your hair and pulled you closer, kissing you hard, deep, messy. Your lips crashed over each other, mouths open and slick, breathing each other in like you couldn’t get enough.

“F-Fuck,” He whispered against your mouth, still panting. “You’re…You’re u-unreal.” You kissed him again–slow this time, letting your tongue slide over his, letting the aftertaste of him linger between you as his hands moved up your sides. Your hips rolled instinctively against his, your shorts damp and clinging between your legs, your whole body strung tight with need.

Bob pulled back just enough to look at you.

His pupils were blown wide, cheeks flushed, lips wet and swollen. “Y-You’re soaked,” He said, voice gone low and reverent as his hand slid down your side. “I didn’t even…D-Do anything..”

You smiled, almost smug, still straddling his lap. “Well,” you whispered, brushing your nose against his, “Maybe you should fix that.” That wrecked little breath he let out made your whole body thrum.

His hand slipped down, trailing over your waistband, fingers playing at the hem of your shorts. And then–slowly, teasingly–he dipped inside. You gasped at the contact, your hips jolting forward slightly. Bob groaned, head tipping back for a second as his fingers found you.

“Jesus Christ…” He muttered. “You’re dripping.” You bit your lip, breath catching as he stroked through your folds, spreading your arousal around on his fingers. “Y-You’re already m-making a mess…” You whimpered against his mouth, “But I know w-what to do to really make things even messier.” And with that, his fingers plunged inside you.

You gasped–a raw, breathless sound–arching hard into his hand as he filled you deep and fast. His fingers were thick and curled just right, stroking against that spot inside you that made your legs tremble.

Your hips rolled down onto his hand, grinding against his palm.

“Th-That’s it,” He breathed, curling his fingers harder, faster. “There you go…You feel that?”

You nodded, breath shallow. “Bob–f-fuck–!” Your body clenched around his fingers as he pumped them fast, unrelenting, his palm dragging over your clit with each thrust. He leaned in and kissed you again, tongue deep and messy in your mouth as you moaned into him.

Then he pulled back just slightly, his breath brushing over your lips.

“I wanna see it,” He whispered. “Wanna see you fall apart for me. Right here. I want you to make a mess in these shorts.”

The words alone nearly made you come.

His fingers slammed into you faster, harder, his hand relentless, your shorts now completely soaked as the squelch of wetness grew louder–filthy and raw and so intimate in the silence of the room.

“I can feel you—Y/N, you’re s-so close, aren’t you?”

“Y-Yes–yes!”

“C-Come for me, baby. Let go.”

And you did.

You cried out as your body convulsed, thighs trembling violently as you squirted into his hand, soaking your shorts and his wrist. Your vision went white around the edges, your breath punched out of your lungs, and Bob never stopped–working you through it, whispering praise the whole time.

“That’s it,” He gasped. “That’s my good g-girl–god, look at you.”

You collapsed forward against his chest, trembling, dizzy from the intensity.

But Bob–sweet, soft, ravenous Bob–pulled his fingers from your soaked shorts and stared at them for half a second, glistening and slick with you.

Then he licked them clean, keeping his eyes on you as he did it. Like he was entranced by the way you were breathing.

And his voice dropped lower.

“I need more.”

He laid you back against the bed before you could recover, tugging your shorts off in one smooth pull, your panties with them. You were still shaking when he dropped to his stomach and spread your legs with both hands.

He groaned at the sight of you.

“Messy little thing,” He murmured, and then he buried his face between your thighs.

His tongue was everywhere–lapping, sucking, tasting you with frenzied devotion. You were already oversensitive, your thighs twitching, your whole body squirming as he licked through the aftermath of your orgasm like a man starved.

He groaned into you, licking deeper, and you realized–

He was touching himself. You could tell by the rhythmic movements of his arm, matching the way his tongue moved against your clit.

“I-I can’t–I’m too sensitive–”

“You c-can,” he murmured, voice vibrating against your cunt. “You’re gonna come for me again. I-I can’t stop. Not when you taste this f-fucking good.”

He sucked hard, tongue circling your clit, and your hips shot up off the bed with a cry.

Your hands fisted the sheets, your body completely out of your control, twitching and writhing beneath him as he groaned and licked harder, dirtier, hungrier.

You sobbed his name as the second orgasm crashed over you–violent and wet, your body spasming as he licked you through it, relentless.

Even when you pushed at his shoulders weakly, begging for a pause, he didn’t stop until he’d wrung every drop from you and licked it from your skin.

When he finally lifted his head, his lips and chin were soaked with you. His hair was tousled, damp with sweat at the temples, and his eyes were completely blown-dark blue and glistening. like something unholy had just been fed and still wasn’t satisfied.

But when he looked at you–shaking, flushed, chest rising in uneven bursts–something softened.

Something melted.

He crawled up slowly, body moving over yours with a reverent kind of slowness, like he didn’t want to startle you. His hands slid under your back, easing you up into his lap until your legs curled around his waist again, your head tipping forward into the crook of his neck.

You were gasping. Trembling. Boneless.

And then–he kissed you.

Soft at first. Warm. Just his lips pressing into yours like he needed you more than breath.

But then you tasted yourself on him–sweet and raw–and something in you twitched.

You whimpered, and he smiled against your mouth, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, tongue licking softly into you, savoring you again in a whole new way.

You couldn’t help it–you started giggling.

It broke out of you mid-kiss, breathy and trembling, one of those dazed, overwhelmed sounds that bubbled up from somewhere so exhausted it had no filter.

Bob pulled back immediately, wide-eyed.

“Did I–? D-Did I hurt you?” He asked, instantly concerned, his hands coming up to frame your face.

You shook your head, still laughing, pressing your forehead to his shoulder. “No–no, you didn’t, I just–Bob, I can’t feel my legs.”

He let out a startled breath, part laugh, part exhale of disbelief. “O-Oh,” He said, sounding sheepish. “I–I mean…Th-That’s kinda the goal, right?”

You laughed harder, still shaking.

He kissed your forehead, and then your jaw, and then your shoulder.

“I think you broke me,” You whispered dramatically, hands curled weakly into his shirt as your giggles faded into something sweeter–something more breathless and soft.

Bob tilted his head, grinning. “M-Maybe we’re even,” he whispered. “You nearly made me black out earlier. I-I think I forgot my own name for a minute.”

That made you laugh. Bob blushed–deeply–but smiled into your neck and nuzzled there. You felt his hands stroke lightly up your spine, slow and soothing now.

“You okay?” He asked, quieter this time.

You nodded against him. “Just… holy shit. That was a lot.”

He gave a quiet hum of agreement, resting his forehead to yours again.

Then, softly, “You taste like heaven. I-I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop.” You bit back a whimper at that, one last full-body shiver rolling through you.

“I need a minute,” You mumbled, laughing into his skin. “Or a whole fucking hour.”

Bob chuckled. “Okay,” he murmured, laying back against the pillows and pulling you gently with him, cradling your body over his. “I-I’ll just hold y-you.” And he did.

You rested there, curled into the warmth of him, his hands smoothing gentle lines up your bare thighs, up your back, over your hair. His heartbeat was steady beneath your ear. His breath, soft against your temple. Bob’s fingers drew lazy, unhurried lines over you, tracing every dip, every curve like he was still mapping the miracle of you. Your head rose and fell with the rhythm of his chest. You could feel his heart–it had calmed, but not completely. Still a little fast. Still a little uneven from moments ago.

“So…” You murmured, your voice warm, sleepy, and just the slightest bit teasing. “Did you enjoy the weekend getaway?”

Bob gave a soft hum in response–one of those low, rumbly sounds that vibrated under your cheek. “C-Course I did…”

You tilted your head up slightly, just enough to glance at him. “Yeah?” You asked, voice still playful. “What was your favorite part?”

He didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he blinked up at the ceiling, lips parted, the moonlight casting shadows along his jaw. His hand stilled on your thigh.

And then–quietly, he said:

“B-Being around you the entire time…”His voice was thick with sincerity, soft like he didn’t trust it wouldn’t crack. “W-With no interruptions. No missions. No briefing rooms or restraints or… Or constantly w-wondering w-what could go wrong.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “It was just…A-All of us actually having some semblance of fun. For once.” You nodded slowly against his chest, your breath catching just a little as your eyes fluttered closed again.

“Yeah,” You agreed. “It felt like a different world for a second.”

He stroked your hair gently, fingers curling behind your ear. “I-I forgot what it was like to let loose like that, with no worries…” You lifted your head again, just enough to press a kiss over his heart. He stilled beneath you like it stopped time.

“You deserve that,” you whispered. “You deserve so much of that.”

Bob let out a shaky breath and curled both arms around you tighter.

“I d-didn’t think I’d ever have this,” he admitted, voice muffled against your hair. “Someone like you. A team that laughs more than they fight. A night where I d-don’t wake up from the dark things in my head…”

You lifted up, just barely, and reached to cup his face. His lashes were damp, the corners of his mouth pulled in that fragile way only you got to see.

“You’re not in the dark right now,” You whispered. “You’re here. With me. And no one’s going to take this from us.”

He nodded, eyes locked on yours, and leaned into your touch.

Then–soft, almost smiling–

“W-We’re gonna need another vacation after this, aren’t we?”

You laughed, shaking your head as you kissed the corner of his mouth. “Yeah. But next time, we’re packing before the morning of…And it’ll just be me and you.”

“D-Deal,” He whispered.

And then he tucked you close again, your bare legs tangled with his, your laughter still lingering in the air like sunlight, like the sea breeze drifting through the window.

[rowinablx]

If mentally unstable why pookie shaped?

[boys-are-clowns]

Tehe

he’s asking for more cuddles

[gazpachito]

But I have so many.

[trainer-from-unova]

[starktonyx]

NYC psychologists after the void took over the city with infinite shame rooms looping people’s worst traumas.

[adorecb97]

Yep

John Walker is an asshole. He’s also a dad. He wasn’t a very good dad, but he never ever raised a hand or voice to his son.

Bob’s dad was an asshole. And he frequently raised his hands and voice to his wife and son.

And John Walker punched Bob’s dad’s ass out to protect Bob and get him through the Void, and even helped pull him back from the brink.

That is very important to me

[eyelessfaces]

tbf he's gonna need it

[marvelouslymarly]

I keep thinking about the fact that Bucky first met Bob as Sentry!Bob and then got ... taken apart by him and then saw him as The Void but, later in the void-world, still decided that what he'd heard about him from Yelena and the others and what he had come to know about Bob was enough for him to become protective and save Bob from the void because thats exactly who Bucky is at his core!

He will protect the ~tiny guy and he will be the grumpy old uncle and I love that we finally get to see him as such again!

[salemlunaa]

thought i’d dabble in some loatok, what a mistake, good lord 💀💀

WHAT ARE YALL OUT HERE TEACHING GOSH 😟😟

also don’t ask why i’m up at 2am bc i really don’t have an answer for you 😀😀