starktonyx

[starktonyx]

a funny thing about having a Problematic Blorbo is that you'll periodically come across a post along the lines of "um let's not forget that [Blorbo] is a bad person..." listing their various crimes, and if you have a modicum of intellectual honesty you find yourself nodding along and saying yeah it's true... but it's the greyness of their character that makes them so compelling... At the same time though you have a little Saul Goodman in your ear going "your honor in their defense: who cares like omfgggg who caresssssss like come onnnnnn"

[starktonyx]

Thunderbolts* deleted scene.

“I can confirm the door is unliftable.”

[starktonyx]

[starktonyx]

Come right on me … I mean camaraderie - John Walker x reader

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Word count: 3.5k

Description: You can't help the inappropriate thoughts that come out of your mouth during a mission, and John has to teach you a lesson, or multiple, about it.

“Holy shit, come right on me” You mumbled under your breath. His head snapped at you. No. There’s no way his hearing caught that.

Tags/warnings: smut, fem!reader is a horny menace, dominant John, long buildup, sex, overstimulation.

Note: This has Sabrina Carpenter levels of bluntness about being horny that's how I feel about this man. Kicked my feet while writing this. Enjoy 🫶🏼

Masterlist

It wasn’t your fault, really.

It wasn’t your fault that John Walker was a goddamn idiot. Or that he was also so painfully hot you’d been waking up to drenched panties after dreams where he made you his in the most filthy ways you could imagine.

It wasn’t your fault your brain crafted entire scenarios while you slept, where he was all over you, handsy, desperate, soaked in sweat.

And it really wasn’t your fault that Bucky kept pairing you up with him for missions. You were sure Yelena had something to do with that targeted sabotage.

You were down so bad for him, all the man had to do was exist. The way he led in front of you, the way he threw around orders under pressure, the particular way he had to shove targets against walls … your mind didn’t even try to behave anymore.

This morning, you’d woken up panting, sheets damp in a sweaty mess, mind adjusting to the fact that his head was between your legs only in your dream and not in reality.

How sad.

And now here you were, paired with him again in some random warehouse lab, Yelena and Bucky waiting back on the jet while you did your part of the mission.

“Did you get it?” His voice came in a growl through your comm, you could hear his grunts as he cleared your extraction route, and holy shit, why did that do things to you?

It. Wasn’t. Your. Fault.

You tucked the vial into your pocket, trying to focus. You cleared your throat before speaking.

“Package secured. I’m on my way to you.”

But before you could turn, a yelp went through the comm when a rough hand grabbed your shoulder and slammed you to the floor. You barely had time to gasp before a body pinned you down, heavy and aggressive, and a cold blade pressed against your throat.

You barely caught the attacker’s fist mid air, fighting the strength he was pushing down with, when a gloved hand stopped him. The man cried in pain when John twisted his arm away from your face. The next thing you knew, he went flying across room.

John had yanked him off you, throwing him away with a snarl that made your blood burn. He let his shield fall to the ground, before he stomped towards the guy, grabbed him by the collar, and smashed his fist into his face.

“So you like hitting pretty girls, huh?” He barked, punching again.

You watched from your spot on the floor, thoughts detailing from the moment he spoke. You bit your lip as he lifted the man to shove him into the wall. Those arms, those grunts … god.

Why on earth was that so hot?

"Holy shit, come right on me." You mumbled under your breath, weren’t even thinking as the words came out of your mouth.

His head snapped at you, dropping the body of the man.

Your eyes go wide. No. There's no fucking way his hearing caught that.

He started at you with furrowed brows and a hint of disbelief. Sweat clung to his hairline, making disheveled strands stick to his forehead, chest rising and falling under the weight of adrenaline.

That image wasn't helping at all.

"What?” He asked, voice coming out rougher than he intended.

Shit.

“I mean ... camaraderie! Y-yeah. Thanks for that" You blurted, pointing awkwardly at the half conscious guy on the floor like that explained anything.

He nodded hesitantly, squinting at you like he was trying to decide whether you were insane or he was.

In three long strides he walked over, standing over you offering his gloved hand. You took it, and in one swift motion he pulled you up, straight into him. His other hand landed firmly on the curve of your back, pressing you tightly against him.

Your uneven breathing hit his neck, barely reaching his jawline.

"That can be arranged" He mumbled, eyes dropping, just for a second, to your lips.

You were sure your brain just short circuited. Of course he heard your horny ass.

"John–"

Before you could say anything to defend whatever was left of your dignity, voices echoed from the hallway, and in a second, he spun you both behind a column, pressing you harshly against the wall. His palm instinctively covered your mouth, eyes locked on the entrance.

“Shh” he whispered, breath warm against your forehead. “Be quiet.”

The agents continued their way down the hall without noticing you were in the room, and John's posture relaxed slightly.

Yours didn't.

Being pinned against a wall, trapped by his larger frame of broad shoulders, feeling every ridge of his suit on your chest and something very solid pressing against your belt.

This. This is what dreams are made of.

You instinctively raised your knee, just enough to rub softly against the bulge in his suit. He sucked in a sharp breath, head jerking in your direction, hand still covering your mouth.

You notice the way his entire body tensed up again.

You brought your knee back down, slowly, and he looked like it physically pained him not to grab it back and rub against him one more time. His hand dropped from your mouth, and the smirk on your lips said everything.

You rose up on your toes, drawing your lips close to his ear.

"I bet it's even better than in my head." You teased, barely nibbling the edge of his ear.

You gasped when he pushed you tighter into the wall, jaw clenching with his fingers digging deeper onto your waist.

He was so so done for.

"Walker? Walker, come in." The comms static pierced through the tension, Yelena's voice breaking the silence. "Did you get it? We need to go. Now."

He hesitated for a second, hands twitching like he wasn’t ready to let your body go yet.

He wasn’t sure if he could trust his voice, and to be honest neither did you. He took a shaky breath, cleared his throat, and backed up a step.

"Y-yeah" He said, turning from you. His voice cracked slightly, so he cleared his throat again, and you bit your lip to keep from laughing."We got it. We’re heading to the jet now."

By the time he turned back around, you were already walking out, casually ahead of him like you hadn’t just driven him to the edge of self control.

The ride back to the watchtower was tense. You took the seat farthest from John, clearly not because you wanted to. No, you wanted to crawl into his lap and beg him to continue what you’d started, but self preservation said maybe don’t ride him in front of coworkers.

Considering Yelena and Bucky had been throwing knowing glances at you the whole time.

This was your fault after all.

Not being able to control your dirty thoughts, showing up all flustered and justifying it on almost getting sliced, pretending you could fool two polygraph detectors.

Whatever.

All you needed was a warm shower and to give yourself a little love to drown those inappropriate thoughts of yours about John.

Respectfully, of course.

You made your way across the hallway towards your room, thinking about getting that shower head as soon as you could between your thighs, when a door openned and hand grabbed you, shoving you inside that room.

The door to John's room slammed shut behind you with a solid thud. Before you could even turn around, he had you pressed up against it, hands holding his weight on the door, each placed next to your head.

"You don't get to do that shit, sweetheart" He groaned, standing close to your face. "You don't say those things to me in the middle of a mission and pretend I’ll just forget about it."

You breathe loudly, chest rising up and down, trying to wrap your head aground the fact that he had you caged in his room. You tilt your head to the side, might as well enjoy it.

"God forbid I have fantasies." You tease, without missing a bit.

Your knee went up to do the same thing you did earlier, but he took one hand off the door to stop it before it could reach his crotch, and let out a bitter laugh.

"You think you’re the only one who fantasizes? You think I don’t dream with that dirty pretty mouth of yours?"

Your breath hitched. His hands traveled to your waist, rough and possessive, thumbs digging into your hips like he was grounding himself, like the last part of him was barely holding back.

His lips brushed your neck, not kissing, just hovering. Teasingly . He pulled back, just enough to make you chase the contact, and that smug little smirk flickered on his lips.

He began guiding you away from the door, never splitting your bodies apart.

"You've been distracting me since day one" he muttered, backing you up until your legs hit the bed. "Wearing that tight suit and those damn lips. Always mouthing shit off, making me want to shut you up."

You whimpered, eyes dropping to the floor.

He tilted your chin up, forcing you to look at him.

"Oh, so now you're shy?" He teased, making a tsk tsk sound. "I want you to look at me now, when you talk like that."

His hands found the zipper of your suit, with a darkened look he stares at you for a moment, waiting for approval.

And fuck your heart was pounding. You needed someone to pinch you to make sure this wasn't a dream.

You nodded immediately, maybe a little too eager.

He chuckled at your desperation, taking his sweet time to take your one piece suit off, making sure he enjoyed every time your breath hitched when he grazed your skin. He dragged the fabric down, leaving you only in underwear.

As soon as the suit hit the floor, he pressed you down onto the mattress with one hand on your chest.

"You wanna tease me? Say filthy shit in the middle of a fight? Rub your knee against me like that?" His hand slid up your thigh, slowly claiming what’s always been his in your wildest dreams. "You don't get to walk away to find relief on your own."

Your breath stuttered, your hands instinctively went to the zipper of his suit, but he caught your wrists.

"John, come on–"

"No, you have to be patient like I’ve been" he said, dipping his head down to brush his lips across your collarbone. "I tried to be good. Tried to respect the mission."

He lifted his head, eyes locked on yours. "But you decided to be a brat and got me all worked up. Now I get to take my time with you."

He pulled himself back from your body, finally reaching for the top of his suit, messily dismantling it away to throw it off the bed.

You barely had time to breathe before he was on you again, kissing you hard, devouring you. His hands held your jaw, fingers rough and urgent, like he needed to keep you under him forever.

You gasped against his mouth, and that's when it slipped out.

"Been so wet all day since I woke up–“

He froze, immediately pulling back, eyes narrowed at you. "What was that?"

"N-nothing." You stuttered, too quick to be believable. He chuckled.

"No, go ahead sweetheart" he said, thumb dragging across your bottom lip. "Keep talking. You got so much to say, right?"

You opened your mouth but nothing more than a gasp came out when he pushed his hand between your thighs, grinding up against the wet spot on your panties.

"God dammit" he muttered, his fingers painfully grazing the fabric, barely touching it. "This all for me?"

You moaned, nodding. "Been saving it since the morning."

His cock twitched inside his pants at your confession. He softly slapped over your wet panties, making you jolt. "Always have something to say, don't you?" He slapped again when you nodded, harder this time, his fingers getting wet through the fabric.

He brought his fingers to his lips, and without hesitation, teased. "Tastes better than in my head."

"Fuck" you whined, head dropping to the bed. "This is so much worse now."

You were doomed. You were never coming back from this, from his touch.

From all of him.

He bitterly laughed. "You think this is hard for you?"

His hands found your hips, gripping tight. He rolled them up against his own, letting you feel how hard he was.

"I've had to walk around with this for weeks because of you. Every time you stretch, every time you bend over, every time you moan in your room–"

Your head snapped up to look at him, and his smirk deepened.

"Yeah, my room is next to yours. You think I don't hear you? Late at night, thinking you're being quiet?" He was so arrogantly casual about it, like it was something he'd wanted to confess for a long time.

That he heard you every time. A nasty little secret of yours he's kept locked for too long.

"You touch yourself thinking about me, sweetheart?" he asked, voice full of cockiness. "Bet you taste your own fingers after you're done, pretending it's me."

You wanted to yell at him and tell him he was so full of himself. But damn, he was right, all you wanted was to be full of him too.

Your hips jerked against him, your patience was running short. He hissed at your move, like the contact short circuited something in his brain.

"No shame either, didn't even try to deny it." He continued.

"That’s nothing" You shake your head teasingly. "You should hear the things that go through my head. You'd never look at me the same again."

He shook his head amused.

"Poor thing, can't even shut up about how bad she wants it."

You whined, the pool between your thighs starting to ache by the lack of his touch.

You tugged at his tactical pants. "Take them off, right now."

"Impatient" he scolded.

"I've been patient for months" you snapped, squirming under him. "You just never listened."

"Oh, I’m listening now" he growled. "I just have to be sure you can take it."

You reached up to run your hands across his chest, fingers tracing down his abdomen.

“I'll take it" you blurted, fingers dipping low enough to make him groan. "All of it."

He grinned, before fumbling with his pants, cursing when they got slightly stuck, ripping them down fast enough to make you laugh, until your eyes landed on him. On him.

"Oh my god." you breathed.

Shit. It was better than in your head.

Thick, swollen. Absolutely perfect.

He grinned. This is a sight he had only seen in dreams before. You laying on his bed, mouth parted open at the sight of his cock, ready to let him ruin you.

His mouth was on yours again, rough and needy this time, hands everywhere, yanking off the last pieces of fabric from your body like he'd earned it.

And boy, he had.

He lined himself up, dragging the hard tip through your slick entrance, teasing. But you saw it in his face, the way his jaw was clenched, like he was barely holding on.

"You sure, baby?" he asked. "I need you to say it."

You prompted yourself up by your shoulders, grabbing his face, beard tickling your fingers. "Make my fantasies come true, John."

That was all it took for him to push himself in, teasingly slow, beautifully thick, stretching you in the most delicious, overwhelming way. You moaned his name, head falling back on the mattress.

"Shit, so tight" he groaned, barely moving as your walls got used to him. "You're perfect. Fuck, you're perfect"

He couldn’t wait any longer. With no warning he was pounding into you like he meant it. Like a man who’d been dreaming about it for too long and finally got permission to ruin you.

He caged you against his body, his large hands gripped your hips so tight you'd definitely have marks.

You couldn't stop moaning, couldn't even form words. You were just a string of gasps, whimpers, and his name over and over like it was the only thing left in your brain.

"Fucking hell," he groaned, watching your face contort with every thrust. "Such a pretty little mess aren’t you?."

Your nails dragged down his back, trying to keep yourself grounded. But he was hitting that sweet spot with every thrust.

"Harder" you begged in the haze. "Please –fuck, please don't stop."

He growled. Like full on growled. He increased his speed, abusing of his enhanced strength. Your mouth dropped open in a cry, so perfectly wrecked he couldn't help the grin on his face.

"You gonna come for me, baby?" He grunted, feeling that familiar clench around his cock.

You just nodded, biting your lip. But he wasn't having that, he wanted to hear you. He leaned down, teeth grazing your ear.

"Then say it. Say what you say when you think I'm not listening"

Your brain scrambled. "W-what?"

"You know what, say it" he demanded. "Come right on me, wasn't it?"

You gasped, eyes wide as he continued to rearrange your entire system.

"Say it, sweetheart. Or I stop." He threatened, but you shook your head immediately.

You whined, thighs shaking around his waist. "Come ...fuck ... come right on you–"

You got the words mixed up, your brain completely fogged by the pleasure.

"There she is" he groaned, dragging your hips up for a better angle. "There's my filthy girl."

His praise sent your body over the edge, coming so hard it punched the air out of your lungs. And hell, he felt it. Every spasm. Every clench. He swore loud and shoved in deeper, chasing his own high.

"Where did you say you want it, baby? Say it one more time for me.” He panted, losing his rhythm, hips jerking erratically.

"Cum right on m-me" you blurted the right words this time, even while still trembling under him.

He slammed into you once, twice, before pulling out to spill all over your stomach you with a ragged growl, his forehead dropping to your shoulder, hips twitching as he emptied himself on your skin.

For a moment there was just your ragged breathing, and that slick, milky warmth dripping down your abdomen. Half his body weight rested on you, as he breathed on your neck.

"Holy shit" You mumbled, gasping, when he placed a kiss on your shoulder.

Only a few seconds passed.

You barely had time to catch your breath before he was moving up again, feeling his hard dick against your stomach like he didn't just fill you up.

Your eyes fluttered open, confusion clouding your post orgasm haze.

"Wait, John" you panted, "you're still...?"

"Oh, baby" he chucked, flipping you over to press your chest to the mattress. He dragged your ass back to him, slow and possessive. "We're not done yet."

You gasped as he slid back in with one deep thrust, your body was too sensitive, walls fluttering around him as he groaned, gripping your hips tight to steady himself.

"You don't get to talk like that" he said, something darker in his voice now. "Say that filthy shit. Look at me the way you do, like you're ready to drop to your knees in the middle of a mission–"

"J-John" you whimpered, he felt even bigger than before.

"–and expect me to stop after one round?"

He started to move. Long, slow strokes that made your toes curl. Your face pressed to the sheets, moaning like you didn't care if your teammates heard.

"John … it's too good, too much..."

By this point you weren’t thinking clearly anymore, words coming out slurred.

"You can take it" He pushed himself harder. "You told me you could, sweetheart."

You whimpered into the pillow, your body trembling. Every thrust hit deeper, harder, somehow better than before. Pleasure curling up your spine, threatening to drag you over the edge again.

“You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me” he muttered, leaning in closer, his voice brushing the back of your neck. “Or maybe you do. Maybe that’s the whole fucking point.”

You were so close. The overstimulation was making you see stars, enough to make you cry out his name again and again.

"So good for me. Could stay inside you all night." He praised, grunting, his hands roaming your back.

Your body crashed out again, louder this time, absolutely zero control over it, your orgasm ripping through you so hard your vision went white.

He lost it.

You cried out his name one last time as you felt him come again, body twitching while this time he filled you up, muttering curses into your back like he was trying to bury them in your skin.

He stayed like that for a moment, buried deep with uneven breathing, chest on your back. You don’t know how long passed, until he pulled out slowly, a hiss catching in his throat as you whimpered softly under him.

"Sorry, sweetheart" he mumbled, his hand softly rubbing your back, "You okay?"

You nodded, completely blissed out. Couldn’t trust yourself to speak properly at this point.

He kissed the back of your neck, so soft, completely opposite to the way he just wrecked you. You couldn't hold your body up any longer, so he helped you flip around to rest your back on the mattress.

"Still breathing, baby?" he whispered, brushing your hair from your damp face.

You let out faint laugh, your vision finally coming back to normal. "Barely."

"Good, we were just getting started."

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Part 2 Have you ever tried this one? 🖤

comments and reblogs save author’s lives, thank you so much for reading <3

[starktonyx]

Someone just told me they thought my username was starry onyx for like AGES 😭😭

It’s just my man Tony Stark!!

[starktonyx]

Aww thank you so much 🙂‍↕️🫶🏼 I was also kinda 🫣

Have you ever tried this one?

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Pairing: John Walker x reader. Word count: 5.2k

Note: Another one inspired by a Sabrina Carpenter song, this time it’s Juno. If you know, you know😉 enjoy 🫶🏼

Description: John had been away on a long mission. A month of nothing but his fist and filthy thoughts of you, edging himself to save it all for you. Every last drop. So when he catches you singing some dirty song about needing it deep? You get exactly what you asked for.

Tags/Warnings: Smut, fem!reader, John gets freaky with his super strength, oral f!rec, only the tip, piv sex, cum play, cum kink (srlsy a lot🙂‍↕️), overstimulation (he just keeps going), so much dirty talk, literally just 5k words of filth with plot.

Happens in the same universe as “Come right on me … I mean camaraderie” but can be read as a stand alone.

Masterlist / archive

It wasn't John's fault. Not really.

It wasn't his fault Bucky had sent him on a month long mission to a place so remote it didn't even show up on a map. It wasn't his fault the signal was garbage, barely enough to send a text, much less hear your voice to at least let you know just how badly he needed you.

By the second week, he was already losing his mind.

Because waking up soaked in sweat with a cock so hard it hurt wasn't the problem, it was waking up alone. Reaching out blindly for the soft heat of your body only to find cold sheets and a cruel reminder that you were only in his dreams. Nothing more than a fucking fantasy. That the version of you riding him, moaning his name in that perfect, ruined little voice of yours, was nothing but a sick joke his head kept playing on loop.

It was maddening.

So no, it wasn't his fault that the tension inside him just kept building up like he was some horny teenager. And no matter how many times his hand drifted down to try to relieve some, anything, he never let himself finish. Not once.

Because coming without you felt wrong.

He told himself the same thing every time, between gritted teeth and sweat dripping from his brow: save it for her.

Every. Single. Drop.

He wrapped up his assignment three days earlier. Fueled by the image of you on your knees, of your pretty little mouth open for him, of that wet heaven between your legs he hadn't tasted in weeks.

He barely acknowledged Yelena when she passed him in the hallway that night he arrived. She raised a brow, opening her mouth to speak.

"Not now," John snapped, already walking past her.

Yelena didn't press further, just raised an eyebrow at the direction John was headed to. Your room.

Yeah, not exactly a shock. 

It wasn't a secret you two were having ... something. The compound's walls weren't that thick, and no one here was blind either. You'd both been caught sneaking out of each other's rooms enough times that it barely qualified as "sneaking" anymore.

The whole damn compound probably had a scorecard by now.

At this point, it was honestly ridiculous you still had separate rooms at all. Maybe you liked the thrill of it ... or maybe you were just idiots.

Either way, Yelena knew one thing for sure, she'd probably end up crashing in the living room with the others from that floor, if they wanted to get some sleep that night.

But when John finally reached your door, you weren't there.

He groaned in frustration, eyes narrowing. Maybe you were in the kitchen. Maybe you'd just stepped out, the warm lamp illuminating your messed bedsheets told him so.

Fine. He could wait ... barely.

He dropped his duffel and shield in the his room and headed straight for your shower, too tense to sit still. He scrubbed off the mission, the restraint, all while ignoring the throbbing between his legs he'd been carrying for weeks now. He told himself just a little longer, just a few more minutes and he could finally bury himself in you again, where he belonged.

He was mid drying his body when he heard the door of the room open. He tracked the sound of your footsteps across the room, the gentle bounce of the mattress as you hummed a song.

"Wanna try out some freaky positions ... have you ever tried this one?"

He paused with the towel in hand, half grinning to himself. What on earth were you singing now?

It wasn't the first time he'd caught you in your room with headphones on, humming to yourself like no one else existed. He loved it, loved the way you sang so freely when you thought you were alone. It was always cute. Except this time the lyrics were far away from being “cute”.

He opened the bathroom door with anticipation, hoping to catch your surprised face when you saw him standing in your bathroom with just a towel covering his lower half. But you couldn't see him.

You were sitting cross legged on the bed, facing the headboard. Wearing nothing but one of his huge old shirts, the hem barely covering your thighs, and those noise canceling headphones Yelena and Bob gave you for your birthday.

You were swaying softly, completely oblivious to his presence. The music was loud enough that he could hear the faint echo of a girl's voice through the headphones. Your head bobbed to the beat, eyes glued to your phone.

"One of me is cute, but two though?

Give it to me, baby

You make me wanna make you fall in love," you sang softly, scrolling absentmindedly.

John leaned against the doorframe, one hand holding the towel around his hips, tilted head and a smirk on his face. He lost interest on the music you were humming for a moment, his gaze dropped lower.

Was there anything under that shirt?

He needed to know. He had to.

The hem of the shirt shifted with your movement, offering teasing little flashes of your bare thighs. He tried, really tried to shake those thoughts away. It was a sweet moment. He could hear the playfulness in your voice, maybe you were even thinking about him.

But then the lyrics hit again.

"Adore me, hold me and explore me

Mark your territory

Tell me I'm the only, only, only, one"

He didn't know why the words hit him like that. Maybe it was the anticipation of it all. Maybe it was because they echoed every filthy thought he'd tried to bottle up over the past month. Maybe because he barely held himself together anymore.

He hadn't even touched himself in the last few days ... hadn't dared. Just drowned in the pent up need to be inside you, so thoroughly you'd be dripping with him for days.

"Adore me, hold me and explore me

I'm so fucking horny."

The words came out of your mouth in that same casual, airy tone, like you didn't even realize you were saying them. It was almost innocent. But he shook his head, because he knew you.

Always that mouth. That filthy, sweet, open mouth.

"Jesus Christ..." he muttered to himself.

"Tell me I'm the only, only, only one"

You sighed this time, flopping back on the bed with a dramatic groan, closing your eyes while you held your phone against your chest. The movement of your legs caused the hem of his shirt to ride up your thighs just enough to answer his question.

No panties.

That was it.

He crossed the room in three strides, eyes locked on the picture of you laid out beneath him, upside down from his angle, completely unaware of his gaze fixed on you.

What a treat.

He reached for your headphones, but your eyes flew open before he could pull them off. You yelped, gasping at the sight of him looming over you.

"John?!" you gasped, scrambling upright so fast your phone bounced off the bed, headphones following.

You weren't expecting to see him there at all, at least not yet, he was supposed to arrive by the end of the week. Not that you could ever complain though, the image in front of you was something you'd been dreaming all those weeks he was gone.

His body still damp from the shower, towel barely hanging onto his hips, wet blond hair dripping all over his shoulders … and that devilishly charming grin on his face.

"Hey, sweetheart," he greeted, nonchalantly, like he didnt almost give you a heart attack.

You blinked a few times, with a breath caught on your throat. "Did you ... did you just come out of my bathroom?"

But you didn't even wait for an answer. Your body just launched forward, wrapping around him like you needed to prove he was real. He caught you instantly with a faint laugh, one arm curling tight around your waist, the other gripping his towel.

His nose brushed your temple as he whispered, "Got back early, couldn't wait to see you."

You smiled, and couldn't wait any longer either, so you crashed your lips against his. There was no hesitation from him, his hands gripped your waist hard, like he needed to anchor himself. Your fingers clawed his chest, his shoulders, dragging him closer by the back of his neck, needing more.

Needing everything.

His body pressed into yours with no space left between, large hands roaming all over your waist, your back, you ass. It wasn't slow, it wasn't sweet. It was tongues and fingers digging into skin. His rough beard scratching against your soft skin.

You pulled back just long enough to breathe, but he chased your mouth, biting at your bottom lip, not letting you go far.

"Fuck, I missed you," you muttered against his mouth, chest heaving. "Why didn't you say anything?"

He chuckled, raising his brow, his chest vibrating against yours. "Didn't want to interrupt the show."

Your face burned. You tried to hide in his chest, but he grabbed your chin so you wouldn't.

"You gonna tell me the rest of those lyrics?" he asked, looking down at you.

You just cursed lowly, because of course he heard all that.

In one smooth motion, he spun you around so your knees hit the bed and your was back pressed to his damp chest. His arm hooked across your shoulders, keeping you upright as his mouth dragged slow, wet kisses along the side of your neck.

"Don’t be shy … I liked that little song of yours," he mumbled against your skin. "But I think I misheard the best part honey ... you said you were what?"

Your breath hitched, you knew he heard you damn right the first time. And he knew you knew. His arm gripped your hip, guiding your ass to grind against him, and that's when you felt it. Felt him. The thick press of his bulge through the towel, hot and painfully hard, in a way that made you drool in anticipation.

"I said ... you were fucking what baby? What was it again?" he growled, pressing your hip harder when you didn't reply.

Your knees suddenly felt weak. God, you had missed him so much, even if he was about to fuck every single line out of you.

"So fucking h-horny," you blurted out the lyrics, dropping your head back to rest on his shoulder.

He hummed, satisfied, slipping a hand down your shirt until he reached the mess between your thighs.

"Jesus, baby..." he rasped, your body jolting when his fingers barely brushed the slick already pooling there. "You're soaking just from that? tsk tsk tsk.”

"You were gone for so long John," you whined, instinctively pushing back against him, "can you really blame me?"

He laughed, lowly, like you've just told him something absurd.

"You think you’re horny?" he groaned, shaking his head. "I've been jerking off like some goddamn teenager for weeks, and the worst part? I couldn't even finish honey … thinking how you should be the one wringing it out of me."

You bit your lip, whimpering at the image.

"You know how fucking hard that was?" he continued. "Sleeping in a cold bed, not even being able to hear your voice while I had my cock in my hand, trying not to cum 'cause I wanted it all to be yours. Wanted to fill you up the second I got back."

He loosened his grip on you only enough to let go of the towel covering his body. He dragged your shirt higher and then he pressed his bare cock against your ass.

"Feel that, baby?" he growled in your ear. "This is what I've been carrying ... just for you."

"Then give it to me," you begged, squirming in his hold. "John, please, it's been too long..."

"Oh, I will." He chuckled darkly. “But you gotta run that dirty mouth a little bit longer.”

You whined, this is exactly where he wanted you.

"Imagine the first thing I hear when I come back is that filthy little mouth of yours ... what was it you were singin' about? some freaky positions?"

Shit.

"Hold on to me."

Before you could even process it, his arms were under your thighs. You let out a squeal as he took you off the bed, carrying you to the wall. He turned you around midair, and without even a sign of discomfort, lifted your body up until your legs instinctively wrapped around his neck.

Your back hit the wall with a soft thud, and your breath caught in your throat as you realized what was happening.

He was standing, fully upright. Holding you high in the air with your legs hooked over his shoulders, his hands locked under your ass. His face aligned perfectly with your dripping pussy.

"John," you gasped, gripping his wet hair when you realized your head was close to the ceiling now. "What the fuck ..."

He looked up grinning like a devil.

"What?" he asked innocently, smug as hell. "Have you ever tried this one?"

You nervously laughed, shaking your head incredulously.

"Don't worry, baby," he winked, bunching the shirt around your waist, exposing you completely to his greedy eyes. "I got you."

You gasped when his mouth latched on your pussy like he'd been dying of thirst. Obscene sounds filled the room, from your wetness, from the mess he was painting all over his beard, from your pleads. His grip was unshakable, anchoring you in place while his mouth worked like he was trying to make up for every second he'd been gone.

Your chest began rising up and down quickly, one hand desperately tugging his hair while the other traveled up for some sort of leverage, slapping blindly at the ceiling above you as your body trembled.

"John ... fuck–yes," you panted, vision blurring from the intensity.

He groaned against your pussy, the vibration shooting up your spine. It was too much. The strength in his arms, the way he held you there without even faltering, while dragging his tongue through every slick inch of you.

It felt worshipful.

"You're doing it so good, baby," You praised, tugging his hair harder.

He hummed against your pussy, sucking your clit into his mouth in a way only he knew how to make you see stars, and then looked up at you with those unfair baby blue eyes.

You almost came at the sight of him under you, beard all soaked, looking at you like he was getting drunk from your taste alone.

It wasn't long until your whole body began shaking, legs trembling where they were draped over his shoulders, the heels of your feet digging into his back like it would somehow ground you. But nothing could.

You were so high up the wall, so completely suspended by him, only your back touching anything solid, that your vision started to white out.

"J-John I can't ... I'm gonna–“

"Yeah?" he grunted. "Go on then, sweetheart ... mark your territory."

His fingers dug deeper into your ass, holding you in place as he moaned against your cunt, the vibrations sent you crashing over the edge.

Your thighs clenched around his head, body trembling as you reached your high. He didn't stop, not when you came, not when your back arched off the wall, not even when you whimpered his name.

He kept eating, drinking down every twitch of your orgasm, tongue flicking your clit until your thighs shook violently and you tried to push him away.

Your hands ran all over his hair, desperate.

"Too much ... John, baby, please–"

That's when he finally pulled back.

You blinked a few times at him, your juices glistening on his lips, running down his bearded chin. He looked wrecked. His wet hair all wild, jaw flexing, chest rising and falling like he'd been the one coming.

You twitched one more time, and he grinned satisfied.

"You taste even better than I remembered." His voice was raspy, so fucking sexy.

You barely had time to recover before he lowered you just enough to cradle you in his arms, still against the wall, but now your legs wrapped around his waist, your arms locked behind his neck.

He was the one you kissed you this time, making sure you tasted every drop of yourself on his lips. You could feel his hard cock trapped between you, hot and slick, leaking against your stomach.

"Still singin' that song in your head, sweetheart?" he asked as soon as you came apart, in that devilishly teasing tone.

"Huh?" You blurted out, dizzy from the haze.

He shook his head amused, he was barely getting started with you.

He adjusted his grip on you, before taking you off the wall. Your arms tightened around his neck, eyes wide as he carried you through the room, toward the bed. He lowered you on the mattress, spreading your legs with his knees as he hovered over you.

He didn't have patience for you to be covered anymore, even if seeing you in his shirt drove him insane. But he just needed you naked when he came all over you. So he easily ripped his shirt off from you, throwing it somewhere in the room. His eyes dragged down your body, pausing at the mess between your thighs, at the way your chest heaved, at the way your eyes pleaded.

"You look like a fuckin' dream," he muttered, voice rough. This is all he'd been waiting for, all he’d been fantasizing about.

Before you could say anything, hell, before you could even breathe, he grabbed his cock in his hand, slapping the fat head of it against your soaked pussy.

Once. Twice. Again.

You jolt with each wet hit, little shocked gasps slipping from your lips as your sensitive clit twitched under the weight of his cock.

"Too much?" he asked, grinning as he slapped your folds again, harder this time. "You're twitching so pretty for me, sweetheart."

"John ... fuck–please," you whined, head rolling back on the mattress.

He just grinned, treating himself to a few more heavy wet slaps. You looked so pretty when you shivered, when you begged.

You gasped when you felt him pressing in your entrance with no warning. Head shooting up, eyes going wide just in time to see how he only pushed the tip in. Just that goddamn massive tip, splitting you open with a stretch that knocked the air right out of your lungs. You couldn’t help but throw your head back again.

"I know, baby," he groaned at the feeling of your pussy around him. "You're so tight and so full already … look at you, it's not even halfway in," he praised, breath coming short.

He didn't go deeper. Just pushed the head of his cock against your entrance, in and out. Driving you wild.

And my god, he was so vocal. The grunting, the low growling. The slow movement of his hips like he was holding himself back from slamming balls deep inside you. You knew he has.

You whimpered, clutching the sheets, your hips rolled up to chase more, deeper, but he pinned you down, his chest tensing as he held himself back with a growl.

"Just the tip for now, baby."

He wanted to take his time. Make you go as many rounds as he'd saved his cum for the time he was away. But when you clenched your pussy around the head of his cock, he almost almost bursted right there. He kept pressing in, just the swollen crown stretching you wide.

“God … John,” you whimper, grabbing the sheets. “I love the way you fit.”

“I know,” he hisses, eyes glued to where your bodies met. “Feels so fucking good like this.”

He didn’t thrust deep, just moved in short, devastating rolls of his hips that drove that thick tip over your sweetest spot again and again, attempting to drag another orgasm right back out of you.

“You gonna cum again, baby? tip’s too much for you already?”

That cockiness, that smug grin on his face, the way he keep pushing just a part of himself in that teasing pace, made you unravel, his name came out between gasps, body spasming with the pressure.

“Just like that baby, taking me so well, and I haven’t even fucked you properly yet.”

No he hadn’t, still made you see white as you rode your second high on the night. He groaned at the sight, feeling himself closer and closer.

"You want me to cum like this?" he gritted, hips grinding. "Been saving it, my sweet fucking cum ...all yours. You want it?"

You just nodded, eyes still seeing stars, breathless.

"Then sing it for me.”

Your brows furrowed. "W-What?"

"Sing the fuckin' lyric." He growled this time, leaning closer. "The part that got you all worked up. Let's hear it again sweetheart, just the good part"

Your cheeks flushed, brain fuzzing. "John—"

He slammed forward, just an inch deeper, but so hard it knocked a cry out of your throat. You swallowed hard, while he waited expectantly without moving, making you ache for the friction.

"...Adore me..." you mumbled, barely singing.

“Louder."

“Adore me... hold me... and explore me..."

You noticed the way he was becoming undone to your shaky voice, breathing caught in his throat as he began fucking you again his leaking tip, exploring your entire body with his hands. His eyes glistened with anticipation. He needed you to say it, he was so close.

"Go on, what’s next?” He growled between gritted teeth, hips dragging faster his tip in and out of your entrance, hands pinching your nipples.

"...Mark your territory..." you whispered, nearly choking on your words.

"Yeah," he breathed, voice feral. "That's the one."

He let out a guttural sound, hips slamming forward, his body locking up as he finally let himself spill into you, tip buried, grinding into your clenching pussy while his cum rushed out desperate, like it's been waiting to drip out of you.

"Fuck– ugh baby, fuck..."

You felt it before you even saw it. The first hot pulses inside you, so thick and warm. But he’d dreamed about you covered in him, so he pulled out, his cum leaking out behind him in thick drips as he poured the rest of himself on you. You felt it spill all over your body, one spurt. Then another. And another.

And another.

"Oh my –shit, baby," you gasped , eyes flying wide as he poured into you. "That's so much, John ... holy fuck–"

He kept going while he grunted, kept spilling, holding the base of his cock tight as he came all over you. Your clenching walls pushed what was left inside you out, dripping down your pussy, pooling on the sheets.

"Shit–can't stop," he panted, all flushed, watching with hooded eyes as his cum kept painting your body. "Fuck, look at you ... you're soaked."

You glanced down, and your jaw dropped.

It was everywhere. Your belly, your thighs, the curve of your hips. Sticky, thick white streaks all over your chest, a faint drop on your neck. And even more dripping out your pussy like he never pulled out.

And it had been just with the tip.

"John... it’s so much..." you panted, voice barely above a whisper.

"Told you I was saving it up, honey," he grinned, breathless yet still smug, proud ... asshole.

He leaned down, dragging two fingers through the mess on your belly, gathering a thick strand of it, and then smearing it right back onto your skin, lazier, messier, spreading it even more.

"You're not getting cleaned up," he mumbled, voice rough. "Not yet. I want you to feel it. I want you to lie here soaking in it."

You whimpered as his fingers trailed lower, collecting more where it was pooling between your thighs. He spread it around your folds, deliberately pushing it over your sensitive clit, and you jolted, hips twitching.

"Still twitchy," he smirked, loving the way you squirmed. "So damn pretty when you're sensitive."

Then he dragged his fingers back up and smeared more of it across your chest, rubbing his release into your skin like he wanted it to stay there.

His territory marked. Owned.

You were trying to catch your breath, your limbs heavy, skin flushed and sticky, brain barely holding onto thoughts.

But then, the weight of him moved over you again. His hand gripped your wet thigh hard, pushing it up and out. His cock, hard again, sliding right through the mess between your legs, thick and wet from your arousal and his white paint.

Your eyes flew open. "John ... just give me a minute–"

"It's okay baby, I got you."

He grabbed your limp body and flipped it over, chest against the mattress, ass low, while he crossed your arms behind your back so he could raise your back to him. His cock pressed against your ass, and you suddenly needed him more than before.

"Need you ... all of it … please"

This time he didn't say anything, he just thrusted. He buried himself deep, all the way this time, no more teasing with the tip. The sudden stretch made your whole body arch, back curling away from him but he tightened his grip on your arms, as a helpless cry ripped from your throat.

"Shit, you're so tight," he growled, voice rough with need.

He set a brutal rhythm instantly, hips snapping against your ass, the wet slap of skin on skin loud and filthy in the room. You were too sensitive, too full, too overstimulated, but you couldn't stop moaning. Your body could take it. Needed it.

One large hand gripped yours on your lower back, the other landing a smack in your ass as he fucked into you, panting, wild, relentless.

"You're so fucking perfect," he leaned down, teeth grazing your shoulder. "I'm gonna come inside this time. So deep you'll feel it for days."

Your mind was gone. Words were gone. You were just whimpering, relying on his grip to hold you up while he ruined you for the third time.

This is how he needed you. Overstimulated, a moaning mess, dragging orgasm after orgasm out of you. You clenched around his whole length this time, tighter, he looked down at you and smirked.

"Cum on my cock, baby. That's what it's for, all yours."

His deep voice sent you over the edge. Your walls fluttered around his cock, your back arched as you came again while he fucked you through it, clenching around him with a strangled cry. He slammed in deeper, his cock twitching for release.

"Take it, baby … so pretty how your take it."

He growled seeing you become undone again, losing his last thread of restraint.

"Oh fuck..."

"Come on John, I know you still have more for me.”

You felt it the moment he started to lose control, his rhythm stuttering, jaw almost snapping, breath hot and shaky against your skin.

"Gonna fill you up again," he growled, hips slamming into you one last time.

And then he crashed again, deep inside you, seed thick and hot, spilling into your pussy in those long, creamy strings. Your body jolted under him, back arching, but he didn't pull out this time.

He kept himself buried balls deep, cock twitching inside you, his hands tight still holding your arms behind your back.

"Jesus," he groaned, dazed. "You're fuckin' milking me."

You hummed, overstimulated and trembling, feeling every drop of him, filling you up until it began leaking back out.

A slow, thick stream of cum slipped out around his cock, trickling between your thighs, dripping down your leg as John just watched. Mesmerized. Smirking.

He let his grip on you go, gently letting your chest fall back on the mattress, cock still inside you. He looked down.

"Look at that," he mumbled. "Can't even hold it all." He pulled his cock back a little, just enough to make it spill faster. "Fucked you so full I can feel it spilling out of you."

You moaned, all weak, breathless. "Saved all that sweet cum just for me Johnny."

"It's all I thought about baby," he gritted, dragging his thumb to smear the mess around.

He finally pulled out, a gasp escaping your mouth when you felt all his love dripping out of you.

"Look how pretty you are when you're leaking my cum..."

You thought he would give you a minute this time. A little break to remember how to breathe again, when he helped you turn around so you laid your back on the bed, facing him now.

You could feel it against your leg, he was hardening again. Like your whole body wasn't already covered in all of him.

You felt the weight of his cock, thick, flushed, and heavy against your overstimulated pussy, you whimpered when he pressed the head back to your folds.

"John," you breathed, head rolling back. "You already ... fuck, you came so much baby."

"I know," he growled, pressing his forehead to yours. His breath was hot against your cheek. "I know. But look at me, baby."

He grabbed the base of his cock and rubbed the tip through the slick, tender mess between your legs, your whole body reacting. "Still fuckin' hard."

It wasn't his fault. The serum had enhanced everything. Every fucking thing. And he'd been gone, for too damn long.

You barely had time to recover. You were still twitching, body too sensitive, soaked and overstimulated. But your hands still reached to his back, to push him into you one more time.

"Greedy little thing." He chuckled, shaking his head. “Can’t even hold yourself up but you keep reaching for more.”

So he complied, slow at first, like he could still tease after all he’d done to you by now. His hips rolled forward, pushing his previous loads deeper. You gasped, legs trembling, nails digging into his back as you shook your head and whimpered, "John, I can't–"

"Yes, you can," he growled. "You're gonna take every drop. Again."

Then he snaps his hips forward, hard.

Your whole body bounces as he fucked it into you one more time, his cock slamming through the mess he already left inside, making it gush out in slick, tiny splashes with every thrust.

"Fuck, listen to that," he snarled, going feral at the obscene sounds. "So messy for me. You love this."

And the worst part? He was right.

Because even through the overstimulation, the ache, the stretch, you were clenching around him again, your body greedy, desperate, obeying every filthy command he made without question.

He was relentless. Gripping your hips, fucked into you like he was trying to imprint himself into your core, cock pounding the mess deeper while more of it leaked out down your ass and thighs.

"Still sensitive, sweetheart?" He was smug as sin, one hand spreading you open while the other pressed your lower belly. "You can take it … just a little more."

You didn’t take long to come again, nearly sobbing, legs shaking uncontrollably, and he groaned as you cried out his name, squeezing him tight.

He was there, almost there. But he wanted this one somewhere else.

He pulled out of your shaking pussy, and climbed over your body on the bed, straddling your chest as he guided his cock to your face.

"Open for me, sweetheart ... yeah that's it"

He shoved his cock in your mouth, and you gladly took it, all of it. In twitches it spilled down your throat. Salty, thick warmth overflowed your mouth as he grunted, coming all over your tongue.

You hit his thigh when you couldn't breathe anymore from how much it was, so he put a hand behind your neck to lift your head, and raised you to sit on the bed as he panted beside you, mesmerized by the view of you choking in it.

His hand ran comforting strokes down your back, as you tried to swallow as much as you could. Like you always did.

Like the good fucking girl you were for him.

"Look at you," he whistled in a growl. "Covered in me. Stuffed full of me. Choking on me … and I still see some untouched parts."

His thumb found your chin, smearing what had leaked out your mouth down your neck, and tilted your face toward his.

"How many times is that, baby?" he taunted, pushing the hair out of your sweaty face. "Two, three loads? … doesn't even matter, you always take ‘em all.”

You just whimpered to his praise, couldn't trust your voice when you still felt his warmth going down your throat.

You both go quiet.

The kind of quiet that only happened after John was finally satisfied with how many times you came on his cock, with the way you twitched from the sheer exhaustion, when you didn’t even know how to speak anymore.

He pressed kiss to your temple, his lips soft, lingering. The sharp edge of his voice from earlier was gone, replaced by a low raspy whisper as his fingers brushed over your spine.

“Hey… you still with me, baby?”

You nod weakly.

“That’s my girl,” he grinned. “You did so good for me. So damn good.”

As you regained your breath, he just held you for a moment with his hand on your back, and stared. At you. At the mess all over your body. At what he did.

At what you let him do.

“C’mere” He whispered, while he pulled you into his lap, and settled you down on his wet cock.

You moan out, body going limp and stuffed beyond reason as he held you there, not moving, just filling you up for the last time. You clung to him with the last bits of strength you had left, while he wiped the sweat and hair out of your face.

“Just sit here sweetheart, you’re okay” he breathed against your hair, rubbing soothing circles on your body. “Keep me warm while you recover baby, don’t spill another drop.”

He wrapped his arms around you, possessive, smug but with tenderness now, he kissed your shoulder like it was the softest thing in the world. He could feel the stickiness of your body on him, a sweet reminder that you were in fact, the only only only one for him.

“We’ll cleanup later, baby” He cooed and you just nodded weakly, placing a kiss on his pec.

He leaned slightly to see your face, to catch a glimpse of that blissed out, weak smile on your lips. He smiled adoringly, with that softness that only came after he wrecked you.

But then, without even a doubt, a harsh chuckle left his throat.

“Have I marked my territory enough?”

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comments and reblogs are always appreciated, thank you so much for reading 🖤

[starktonyx]

“You’re a bad liar.”

Wyatt Russell as True Brandywine in Broke (2025)

[starktonyx]

✨manchild✨

[starktonyx]

Lemar should be considered a KEY part of John’s past and a big influence in the way he’ll act in the future just as much as Natasha is to Yelena!!! Also parallel to same way Bucky was to Steve.

that scene where john's talking to lemar's family, and lemar's mom holds him like he's her son too. that breaks me so much.

she says that lemar talked about him often. that lemar was proud of him when he became captain america. that she was too. how far back did the two of them go? they served in the military together, did they go to school together? were they on the football team together, in detention together, even further back, did they grow up together? if john's home was devoid of love, did he use doing his homework with lemar as an excuse to go to his house instead of going home? did his mom make sure john was fed, shake her head with fond disapproval as she watched john and lemar take turns on lemar's new ps1, did she let him sleep over if he claimed it was too dark for him to go back home, even if it was a bright summer afternoon? was lemar the best man at john and olivia's wedding? was his mom invited too? when she looks at him, does she see captain america, does she see a murderer, or does she just see her son's best friend, the playful blond he brought home from school and bragged about for the rest of his life, the boy she personally watched grow up?

in that scene, when john says "i'm sorry", you can tell he doesn't mean "i'm sorry for your loss", but rather "i'm sorry i failed you both"

[starktonyx]

Keeping it real on main babe 🫶🏼

Those gifs got me giggling!! that’s how I looked when I read what I was writing 🙂‍↕️

Have you ever tried this one?

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Pairing: John Walker x reader. Word count: 5.2k

Note: Another one inspired by a Sabrina Carpenter song, this time it’s Juno. If you know, you know😉 enjoy 🫶🏼

Description: John had been away on a long mission. A month of nothing but his fist and filthy thoughts of you, edging himself to save it all for you. Every last drop. So when he catches you singing some dirty song about needing it deep? You get exactly what you asked for.

Tags/Warnings: Smut, fem!reader, John gets freaky with his super strength, oral f!rec, only the tip, piv sex, cum play, cum kink (srlsy a lot🙂‍↕️), overstimulation (he just keeps going), so much dirty talk, literally just 5k words of filth with plot.

Happens in the same universe as “Come right on me … I mean camaraderie” but can be read as a stand alone.

Masterlist / archive

It wasn't John's fault. Not really.

It wasn't his fault Bucky had sent him on a month long mission to a place so remote it didn't even show up on a map. It wasn't his fault the signal was garbage, barely enough to send a text, much less hear your voice to at least let you know just how badly he needed you.

By the second week, he was already losing his mind.

Because waking up soaked in sweat with a cock so hard it hurt wasn't the problem, it was waking up alone. Reaching out blindly for the soft heat of your body only to find cold sheets and a cruel reminder that you were only in his dreams. Nothing more than a fucking fantasy. That the version of you riding him, moaning his name in that perfect, ruined little voice of yours, was nothing but a sick joke his head kept playing on loop.

It was maddening.

So no, it wasn't his fault that the tension inside him just kept building up like he was some horny teenager. And no matter how many times his hand drifted down to try to relieve some, anything, he never let himself finish. Not once.

Because coming without you felt wrong.

He told himself the same thing every time, between gritted teeth and sweat dripping from his brow: save it for her.

Every. Single. Drop.

He wrapped up his assignment three days earlier. Fueled by the image of you on your knees, of your pretty little mouth open for him, of that wet heaven between your legs he hadn't tasted in weeks.

He barely acknowledged Yelena when she passed him in the hallway that night he arrived. She raised a brow, opening her mouth to speak.

"Not now," John snapped, already walking past her.

Yelena didn't press further, just raised an eyebrow at the direction John was headed to. Your room.

Yeah, not exactly a shock. 

It wasn't a secret you two were having ... something. The compound's walls weren't that thick, and no one here was blind either. You'd both been caught sneaking out of each other's rooms enough times that it barely qualified as "sneaking" anymore.

The whole damn compound probably had a scorecard by now.

At this point, it was honestly ridiculous you still had separate rooms at all. Maybe you liked the thrill of it ... or maybe you were just idiots.

Either way, Yelena knew one thing for sure, she'd probably end up crashing in the living room with the others from that floor, if they wanted to get some sleep that night.

But when John finally reached your door, you weren't there.

He groaned in frustration, eyes narrowing. Maybe you were in the kitchen. Maybe you'd just stepped out, the warm lamp illuminating your messed bedsheets told him so.

Fine. He could wait ... barely.

He dropped his duffel and shield in the his room and headed straight for your shower, too tense to sit still. He scrubbed off the mission, the restraint, all while ignoring the throbbing between his legs he'd been carrying for weeks now. He told himself just a little longer, just a few more minutes and he could finally bury himself in you again, where he belonged.

He was mid drying his body when he heard the door of the room open. He tracked the sound of your footsteps across the room, the gentle bounce of the mattress as you hummed a song.

"Wanna try out some freaky positions ... have you ever tried this one?"

He paused with the towel in hand, half grinning to himself. What on earth were you singing now?

It wasn't the first time he'd caught you in your room with headphones on, humming to yourself like no one else existed. He loved it, loved the way you sang so freely when you thought you were alone. It was always cute. Except this time the lyrics were far away from being “cute”.

He opened the bathroom door with anticipation, hoping to catch your surprised face when you saw him standing in your bathroom with just a towel covering his lower half. But you couldn't see him.

You were sitting cross legged on the bed, facing the headboard. Wearing nothing but one of his huge old shirts, the hem barely covering your thighs, and those noise canceling headphones Yelena and Bob gave you for your birthday.

You were swaying softly, completely oblivious to his presence. The music was loud enough that he could hear the faint echo of a girl's voice through the headphones. Your head bobbed to the beat, eyes glued to your phone.

"One of me is cute, but two though?

Give it to me, baby

You make me wanna make you fall in love," you sang softly, scrolling absentmindedly.

John leaned against the doorframe, one hand holding the towel around his hips, tilted head and a smirk on his face. He lost interest on the music you were humming for a moment, his gaze dropped lower.

Was there anything under that shirt?

He needed to know. He had to.

The hem of the shirt shifted with your movement, offering teasing little flashes of your bare thighs. He tried, really tried to shake those thoughts away. It was a sweet moment. He could hear the playfulness in your voice, maybe you were even thinking about him.

But then the lyrics hit again.

"Adore me, hold me and explore me

Mark your territory

Tell me I'm the only, only, only, one"

He didn't know why the words hit him like that. Maybe it was the anticipation of it all. Maybe it was because they echoed every filthy thought he'd tried to bottle up over the past month. Maybe because he barely held himself together anymore.

He hadn't even touched himself in the last few days ... hadn't dared. Just drowned in the pent up need to be inside you, so thoroughly you'd be dripping with him for days.

"Adore me, hold me and explore me

I'm so fucking horny."

The words came out of your mouth in that same casual, airy tone, like you didn't even realize you were saying them. It was almost innocent. But he shook his head, because he knew you.

Always that mouth. That filthy, sweet, open mouth.

"Jesus Christ..." he muttered to himself.

"Tell me I'm the only, only, only one"

You sighed this time, flopping back on the bed with a dramatic groan, closing your eyes while you held your phone against your chest. The movement of your legs caused the hem of his shirt to ride up your thighs just enough to answer his question.

No panties.

That was it.

He crossed the room in three strides, eyes locked on the picture of you laid out beneath him, upside down from his angle, completely unaware of his gaze fixed on you.

What a treat.

He reached for your headphones, but your eyes flew open before he could pull them off. You yelped, gasping at the sight of him looming over you.

"John?!" you gasped, scrambling upright so fast your phone bounced off the bed, headphones following.

You weren't expecting to see him there at all, at least not yet, he was supposed to arrive by the end of the week. Not that you could ever complain though, the image in front of you was something you'd been dreaming all those weeks he was gone.

His body still damp from the shower, towel barely hanging onto his hips, wet blond hair dripping all over his shoulders … and that devilishly charming grin on his face.

"Hey, sweetheart," he greeted, nonchalantly, like he didnt almost give you a heart attack.

You blinked a few times, with a breath caught on your throat. "Did you ... did you just come out of my bathroom?"

But you didn't even wait for an answer. Your body just launched forward, wrapping around him like you needed to prove he was real. He caught you instantly with a faint laugh, one arm curling tight around your waist, the other gripping his towel.

His nose brushed your temple as he whispered, "Got back early, couldn't wait to see you."

You smiled, and couldn't wait any longer either, so you crashed your lips against his. There was no hesitation from him, his hands gripped your waist hard, like he needed to anchor himself. Your fingers clawed his chest, his shoulders, dragging him closer by the back of his neck, needing more.

Needing everything.

His body pressed into yours with no space left between, large hands roaming all over your waist, your back, you ass. It wasn't slow, it wasn't sweet. It was tongues and fingers digging into skin. His rough beard scratching against your soft skin.

You pulled back just long enough to breathe, but he chased your mouth, biting at your bottom lip, not letting you go far.

"Fuck, I missed you," you muttered against his mouth, chest heaving. "Why didn't you say anything?"

He chuckled, raising his brow, his chest vibrating against yours. "Didn't want to interrupt the show."

Your face burned. You tried to hide in his chest, but he grabbed your chin so you wouldn't.

"You gonna tell me the rest of those lyrics?" he asked, looking down at you.

You just cursed lowly, because of course he heard all that.

In one smooth motion, he spun you around so your knees hit the bed and your was back pressed to his damp chest. His arm hooked across your shoulders, keeping you upright as his mouth dragged slow, wet kisses along the side of your neck.

"Don’t be shy … I liked that little song of yours," he mumbled against your skin. "But I think I misheard the best part honey ... you said you were what?"

Your breath hitched, you knew he heard you damn right the first time. And he knew you knew. His arm gripped your hip, guiding your ass to grind against him, and that's when you felt it. Felt him. The thick press of his bulge through the towel, hot and painfully hard, in a way that made you drool in anticipation.

"I said ... you were fucking what baby? What was it again?" he growled, pressing your hip harder when you didn't reply.

Your knees suddenly felt weak. God, you had missed him so much, even if he was about to fuck every single line out of you.

"So fucking h-horny," you blurted out the lyrics, dropping your head back to rest on his shoulder.

He hummed, satisfied, slipping a hand down your shirt until he reached the mess between your thighs.

"Jesus, baby..." he rasped, your body jolting when his fingers barely brushed the slick already pooling there. "You're soaking just from that? tsk tsk tsk.”

"You were gone for so long John," you whined, instinctively pushing back against him, "can you really blame me?"

He laughed, lowly, like you've just told him something absurd.

"You think you’re horny?" he groaned, shaking his head. "I've been jerking off like some goddamn teenager for weeks, and the worst part? I couldn't even finish honey … thinking how you should be the one wringing it out of me."

You bit your lip, whimpering at the image.

"You know how fucking hard that was?" he continued. "Sleeping in a cold bed, not even being able to hear your voice while I had my cock in my hand, trying not to cum 'cause I wanted it all to be yours. Wanted to fill you up the second I got back."

He loosened his grip on you only enough to let go of the towel covering his body. He dragged your shirt higher and then he pressed his bare cock against your ass.

"Feel that, baby?" he growled in your ear. "This is what I've been carrying ... just for you."

"Then give it to me," you begged, squirming in his hold. "John, please, it's been too long..."

"Oh, I will." He chuckled darkly. “But you gotta run that dirty mouth a little bit longer.”

You whined, this is exactly where he wanted you.

"Imagine the first thing I hear when I come back is that filthy little mouth of yours ... what was it you were singin' about? some freaky positions?"

Shit.

"Hold on to me."

Before you could even process it, his arms were under your thighs. You let out a squeal as he took you off the bed, carrying you to the wall. He turned you around midair, and without even a sign of discomfort, lifted your body up until your legs instinctively wrapped around his neck.

Your back hit the wall with a soft thud, and your breath caught in your throat as you realized what was happening.

He was standing, fully upright. Holding you high in the air with your legs hooked over his shoulders, his hands locked under your ass. His face aligned perfectly with your dripping pussy.

"John," you gasped, gripping his wet hair when you realized your head was close to the ceiling now. "What the fuck ..."

He looked up grinning like a devil.

"What?" he asked innocently, smug as hell. "Have you ever tried this one?"

You nervously laughed, shaking your head incredulously.

"Don't worry, baby," he winked, bunching the shirt around your waist, exposing you completely to his greedy eyes. "I got you."

You gasped when his mouth latched on your pussy like he'd been dying of thirst. Obscene sounds filled the room, from your wetness, from the mess he was painting all over his beard, from your pleads. His grip was unshakable, anchoring you in place while his mouth worked like he was trying to make up for every second he'd been gone.

Your chest began rising up and down quickly, one hand desperately tugging his hair while the other traveled up for some sort of leverage, slapping blindly at the ceiling above you as your body trembled.

"John ... fuck–yes," you panted, vision blurring from the intensity.

He groaned against your pussy, the vibration shooting up your spine. It was too much. The strength in his arms, the way he held you there without even faltering, while dragging his tongue through every slick inch of you.

It felt worshipful.

"You're doing it so good, baby," You praised, tugging his hair harder.

He hummed against your pussy, sucking your clit into his mouth in a way only he knew how to make you see stars, and then looked up at you with those unfair baby blue eyes.

You almost came at the sight of him under you, beard all soaked, looking at you like he was getting drunk from your taste alone.

It wasn't long until your whole body began shaking, legs trembling where they were draped over his shoulders, the heels of your feet digging into his back like it would somehow ground you. But nothing could.

You were so high up the wall, so completely suspended by him, only your back touching anything solid, that your vision started to white out.

"J-John I can't ... I'm gonna–“

"Yeah?" he grunted. "Go on then, sweetheart ... mark your territory."

His fingers dug deeper into your ass, holding you in place as he moaned against your cunt, the vibrations sent you crashing over the edge.

Your thighs clenched around his head, body trembling as you reached your high. He didn't stop, not when you came, not when your back arched off the wall, not even when you whimpered his name.

He kept eating, drinking down every twitch of your orgasm, tongue flicking your clit until your thighs shook violently and you tried to push him away.

Your hands ran all over his hair, desperate.

"Too much ... John, baby, please–"

That's when he finally pulled back.

You blinked a few times at him, your juices glistening on his lips, running down his bearded chin. He looked wrecked. His wet hair all wild, jaw flexing, chest rising and falling like he'd been the one coming.

You twitched one more time, and he grinned satisfied.

"You taste even better than I remembered." His voice was raspy, so fucking sexy.

You barely had time to recover before he lowered you just enough to cradle you in his arms, still against the wall, but now your legs wrapped around his waist, your arms locked behind his neck.

He was the one you kissed you this time, making sure you tasted every drop of yourself on his lips. You could feel his hard cock trapped between you, hot and slick, leaking against your stomach.

"Still singin' that song in your head, sweetheart?" he asked as soon as you came apart, in that devilishly teasing tone.

"Huh?" You blurted out, dizzy from the haze.

He shook his head amused, he was barely getting started with you.

He adjusted his grip on you, before taking you off the wall. Your arms tightened around his neck, eyes wide as he carried you through the room, toward the bed. He lowered you on the mattress, spreading your legs with his knees as he hovered over you.

He didn't have patience for you to be covered anymore, even if seeing you in his shirt drove him insane. But he just needed you naked when he came all over you. So he easily ripped his shirt off from you, throwing it somewhere in the room. His eyes dragged down your body, pausing at the mess between your thighs, at the way your chest heaved, at the way your eyes pleaded.

"You look like a fuckin' dream," he muttered, voice rough. This is all he'd been waiting for, all he’d been fantasizing about.

Before you could say anything, hell, before you could even breathe, he grabbed his cock in his hand, slapping the fat head of it against your soaked pussy.

Once. Twice. Again.

You jolt with each wet hit, little shocked gasps slipping from your lips as your sensitive clit twitched under the weight of his cock.

"Too much?" he asked, grinning as he slapped your folds again, harder this time. "You're twitching so pretty for me, sweetheart."

"John ... fuck–please," you whined, head rolling back on the mattress.

He just grinned, treating himself to a few more heavy wet slaps. You looked so pretty when you shivered, when you begged.

You gasped when you felt him pressing in your entrance with no warning. Head shooting up, eyes going wide just in time to see how he only pushed the tip in. Just that goddamn massive tip, splitting you open with a stretch that knocked the air right out of your lungs. You couldn’t help but throw your head back again.

"I know, baby," he groaned at the feeling of your pussy around him. "You're so tight and so full already … look at you, it's not even halfway in," he praised, breath coming short.

He didn't go deeper. Just pushed the head of his cock against your entrance, in and out. Driving you wild.

And my god, he was so vocal. The grunting, the low growling. The slow movement of his hips like he was holding himself back from slamming balls deep inside you. You knew he has.

You whimpered, clutching the sheets, your hips rolled up to chase more, deeper, but he pinned you down, his chest tensing as he held himself back with a growl.

"Just the tip for now, baby."

He wanted to take his time. Make you go as many rounds as he'd saved his cum for the time he was away. But when you clenched your pussy around the head of his cock, he almost almost bursted right there. He kept pressing in, just the swollen crown stretching you wide.

“God … John,” you whimper, grabbing the sheets. “I love the way you fit.”

“I know,” he hisses, eyes glued to where your bodies met. “Feels so fucking good like this.”

He didn’t thrust deep, just moved in short, devastating rolls of his hips that drove that thick tip over your sweetest spot again and again, attempting to drag another orgasm right back out of you.

“You gonna cum again, baby? tip’s too much for you already?”

That cockiness, that smug grin on his face, the way he keep pushing just a part of himself in that teasing pace, made you unravel, his name came out between gasps, body spasming with the pressure.

“Just like that baby, taking me so well, and I haven’t even fucked you properly yet.”

No he hadn’t, still made you see white as you rode your second high on the night. He groaned at the sight, feeling himself closer and closer.

"You want me to cum like this?" he gritted, hips grinding. "Been saving it, my sweet fucking cum ...all yours. You want it?"

You just nodded, eyes still seeing stars, breathless.

"Then sing it for me.”

Your brows furrowed. "W-What?"

"Sing the fuckin' lyric." He growled this time, leaning closer. "The part that got you all worked up. Let's hear it again sweetheart, just the good part"

Your cheeks flushed, brain fuzzing. "John—"

He slammed forward, just an inch deeper, but so hard it knocked a cry out of your throat. You swallowed hard, while he waited expectantly without moving, making you ache for the friction.

"...Adore me..." you mumbled, barely singing.

“Louder."

“Adore me... hold me... and explore me..."

You noticed the way he was becoming undone to your shaky voice, breathing caught in his throat as he began fucking you again his leaking tip, exploring your entire body with his hands. His eyes glistened with anticipation. He needed you to say it, he was so close.

"Go on, what’s next?” He growled between gritted teeth, hips dragging faster his tip in and out of your entrance, hands pinching your nipples.

"...Mark your territory..." you whispered, nearly choking on your words.

"Yeah," he breathed, voice feral. "That's the one."

He let out a guttural sound, hips slamming forward, his body locking up as he finally let himself spill into you, tip buried, grinding into your clenching pussy while his cum rushed out desperate, like it's been waiting to drip out of you.

"Fuck– ugh baby, fuck..."

You felt it before you even saw it. The first hot pulses inside you, so thick and warm. But he’d dreamed about you covered in him, so he pulled out, his cum leaking out behind him in thick drips as he poured the rest of himself on you. You felt it spill all over your body, one spurt. Then another. And another.

And another.

"Oh my –shit, baby," you gasped , eyes flying wide as he poured into you. "That's so much, John ... holy fuck–"

He kept going while he grunted, kept spilling, holding the base of his cock tight as he came all over you. Your clenching walls pushed what was left inside you out, dripping down your pussy, pooling on the sheets.

"Shit–can't stop," he panted, all flushed, watching with hooded eyes as his cum kept painting your body. "Fuck, look at you ... you're soaked."

You glanced down, and your jaw dropped.

It was everywhere. Your belly, your thighs, the curve of your hips. Sticky, thick white streaks all over your chest, a faint drop on your neck. And even more dripping out your pussy like he never pulled out.

And it had been just with the tip.

"John... it’s so much..." you panted, voice barely above a whisper.

"Told you I was saving it up, honey," he grinned, breathless yet still smug, proud ... asshole.

He leaned down, dragging two fingers through the mess on your belly, gathering a thick strand of it, and then smearing it right back onto your skin, lazier, messier, spreading it even more.

"You're not getting cleaned up," he mumbled, voice rough. "Not yet. I want you to feel it. I want you to lie here soaking in it."

You whimpered as his fingers trailed lower, collecting more where it was pooling between your thighs. He spread it around your folds, deliberately pushing it over your sensitive clit, and you jolted, hips twitching.

"Still twitchy," he smirked, loving the way you squirmed. "So damn pretty when you're sensitive."

Then he dragged his fingers back up and smeared more of it across your chest, rubbing his release into your skin like he wanted it to stay there.

His territory marked. Owned.

You were trying to catch your breath, your limbs heavy, skin flushed and sticky, brain barely holding onto thoughts.

But then, the weight of him moved over you again. His hand gripped your wet thigh hard, pushing it up and out. His cock, hard again, sliding right through the mess between your legs, thick and wet from your arousal and his white paint.

Your eyes flew open. "John ... just give me a minute–"

"It's okay baby, I got you."

He grabbed your limp body and flipped it over, chest against the mattress, ass low, while he crossed your arms behind your back so he could raise your back to him. His cock pressed against your ass, and you suddenly needed him more than before.

"Need you ... all of it … please"

This time he didn't say anything, he just thrusted. He buried himself deep, all the way this time, no more teasing with the tip. The sudden stretch made your whole body arch, back curling away from him but he tightened his grip on your arms, as a helpless cry ripped from your throat.

"Shit, you're so tight," he growled, voice rough with need.

He set a brutal rhythm instantly, hips snapping against your ass, the wet slap of skin on skin loud and filthy in the room. You were too sensitive, too full, too overstimulated, but you couldn't stop moaning. Your body could take it. Needed it.

One large hand gripped yours on your lower back, the other landing a smack in your ass as he fucked into you, panting, wild, relentless.

"You're so fucking perfect," he leaned down, teeth grazing your shoulder. "I'm gonna come inside this time. So deep you'll feel it for days."

Your mind was gone. Words were gone. You were just whimpering, relying on his grip to hold you up while he ruined you for the third time.

This is how he needed you. Overstimulated, a moaning mess, dragging orgasm after orgasm out of you. You clenched around his whole length this time, tighter, he looked down at you and smirked.

"Cum on my cock, baby. That's what it's for, all yours."

His deep voice sent you over the edge. Your walls fluttered around his cock, your back arched as you came again while he fucked you through it, clenching around him with a strangled cry. He slammed in deeper, his cock twitching for release.

"Take it, baby … so pretty how your take it."

He growled seeing you become undone again, losing his last thread of restraint.

"Oh fuck..."

"Come on John, I know you still have more for me.”

You felt it the moment he started to lose control, his rhythm stuttering, jaw almost snapping, breath hot and shaky against your skin.

"Gonna fill you up again," he growled, hips slamming into you one last time.

And then he crashed again, deep inside you, seed thick and hot, spilling into your pussy in those long, creamy strings. Your body jolted under him, back arching, but he didn't pull out this time.

He kept himself buried balls deep, cock twitching inside you, his hands tight still holding your arms behind your back.

"Jesus," he groaned, dazed. "You're fuckin' milking me."

You hummed, overstimulated and trembling, feeling every drop of him, filling you up until it began leaking back out.

A slow, thick stream of cum slipped out around his cock, trickling between your thighs, dripping down your leg as John just watched. Mesmerized. Smirking.

He let his grip on you go, gently letting your chest fall back on the mattress, cock still inside you. He looked down.

"Look at that," he mumbled. "Can't even hold it all." He pulled his cock back a little, just enough to make it spill faster. "Fucked you so full I can feel it spilling out of you."

You moaned, all weak, breathless. "Saved all that sweet cum just for me Johnny."

"It's all I thought about baby," he gritted, dragging his thumb to smear the mess around.

He finally pulled out, a gasp escaping your mouth when you felt all his love dripping out of you.

"Look how pretty you are when you're leaking my cum..."

You thought he would give you a minute this time. A little break to remember how to breathe again, when he helped you turn around so you laid your back on the bed, facing him now.

You could feel it against your leg, he was hardening again. Like your whole body wasn't already covered in all of him.

You felt the weight of his cock, thick, flushed, and heavy against your overstimulated pussy, you whimpered when he pressed the head back to your folds.

"John," you breathed, head rolling back. "You already ... fuck, you came so much baby."

"I know," he growled, pressing his forehead to yours. His breath was hot against your cheek. "I know. But look at me, baby."

He grabbed the base of his cock and rubbed the tip through the slick, tender mess between your legs, your whole body reacting. "Still fuckin' hard."

It wasn't his fault. The serum had enhanced everything. Every fucking thing. And he'd been gone, for too damn long.

You barely had time to recover. You were still twitching, body too sensitive, soaked and overstimulated. But your hands still reached to his back, to push him into you one more time.

"Greedy little thing." He chuckled, shaking his head. “Can’t even hold yourself up but you keep reaching for more.”

So he complied, slow at first, like he could still tease after all he’d done to you by now. His hips rolled forward, pushing his previous loads deeper. You gasped, legs trembling, nails digging into his back as you shook your head and whimpered, "John, I can't–"

"Yes, you can," he growled. "You're gonna take every drop. Again."

Then he snaps his hips forward, hard.

Your whole body bounces as he fucked it into you one more time, his cock slamming through the mess he already left inside, making it gush out in slick, tiny splashes with every thrust.

"Fuck, listen to that," he snarled, going feral at the obscene sounds. "So messy for me. You love this."

And the worst part? He was right.

Because even through the overstimulation, the ache, the stretch, you were clenching around him again, your body greedy, desperate, obeying every filthy command he made without question.

He was relentless. Gripping your hips, fucked into you like he was trying to imprint himself into your core, cock pounding the mess deeper while more of it leaked out down your ass and thighs.

"Still sensitive, sweetheart?" He was smug as sin, one hand spreading you open while the other pressed your lower belly. "You can take it … just a little more."

You didn’t take long to come again, nearly sobbing, legs shaking uncontrollably, and he groaned as you cried out his name, squeezing him tight.

He was there, almost there. But he wanted this one somewhere else.

He pulled out of your shaking pussy, and climbed over your body on the bed, straddling your chest as he guided his cock to your face.

"Open for me, sweetheart ... yeah that's it"

He shoved his cock in your mouth, and you gladly took it, all of it. In twitches it spilled down your throat. Salty, thick warmth overflowed your mouth as he grunted, coming all over your tongue.

You hit his thigh when you couldn't breathe anymore from how much it was, so he put a hand behind your neck to lift your head, and raised you to sit on the bed as he panted beside you, mesmerized by the view of you choking in it.

His hand ran comforting strokes down your back, as you tried to swallow as much as you could. Like you always did.

Like the good fucking girl you were for him.

"Look at you," he whistled in a growl. "Covered in me. Stuffed full of me. Choking on me … and I still see some untouched parts."

His thumb found your chin, smearing what had leaked out your mouth down your neck, and tilted your face toward his.

"How many times is that, baby?" he taunted, pushing the hair out of your sweaty face. "Two, three loads? … doesn't even matter, you always take ‘em all.”

You just whimpered to his praise, couldn't trust your voice when you still felt his warmth going down your throat.

You both go quiet.

The kind of quiet that only happened after John was finally satisfied with how many times you came on his cock, with the way you twitched from the sheer exhaustion, when you didn’t even know how to speak anymore.

He pressed kiss to your temple, his lips soft, lingering. The sharp edge of his voice from earlier was gone, replaced by a low raspy whisper as his fingers brushed over your spine.

“Hey… you still with me, baby?”

You nod weakly.

“That’s my girl,” he grinned. “You did so good for me. So damn good.”

As you regained your breath, he just held you for a moment with his hand on your back, and stared. At you. At the mess all over your body. At what he did.

At what you let him do.

“C’mere” He whispered, while he pulled you into his lap, and settled you down on his wet cock.

You moan out, body going limp and stuffed beyond reason as he held you there, not moving, just filling you up for the last time. You clung to him with the last bits of strength you had left, while he wiped the sweat and hair out of your face.

“Just sit here sweetheart, you’re okay” he breathed against your hair, rubbing soothing circles on your body. “Keep me warm while you recover baby, don’t spill another drop.”

He wrapped his arms around you, possessive, smug but with tenderness now, he kissed your shoulder like it was the softest thing in the world. He could feel the stickiness of your body on him, a sweet reminder that you were in fact, the only only only one for him.

“We’ll cleanup later, baby” He cooed and you just nodded weakly, placing a kiss on his pec.

He leaned slightly to see your face, to catch a glimpse of that blissed out, weak smile on your lips. He smiled adoringly, with that softness that only came after he wrecked you.

But then, without even a doubt, a harsh chuckle left his throat.

“Have I marked my territory enough?”

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comments and reblogs are always appreciated, thank you so much for reading 🖤

[starktonyx]

Working on my next John x reader fic!

I do have to mention I have planned plots for all of these three so I will post all of them eventually

[starktonyx]

Sam Wilson’s instagram stories

Copyright infringement on the bottom of all of them is sending me.

[starktonyx]

Omg youuuu!!!

Sorry you choked on what? 😏 he would make you say it again. The dirty talk was dirty talking for sure 😭 and I agree!! he needs to put a ring on that situationship asap🙂‍↕️

My man is a SOFTIE under all that for sure. Anyways, thank you so much!! 🥹

Have you ever tried this one?

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Pairing: John Walker x reader. Word count: 5.2k

Note: Another one inspired by a Sabrina Carpenter song, this time it’s Juno. If you know, you know😉 enjoy 🫶🏼

Description: John had been away on a long mission. A month of nothing but his fist and filthy thoughts of you, edging himself to save it all for you. Every last drop. So when he catches you singing some dirty song about needing it deep? You get exactly what you asked for.

Tags/Warnings: Smut, fem!reader, John gets freaky with his super strength, oral f!rec, only the tip, piv sex, cum play, cum kink (srlsy a lot🙂‍↕️), overstimulation (he just keeps going), so much dirty talk, literally just 5k words of filth with plot.

Happens in the same universe as “Come right on me … I mean camaraderie” but can be read as a stand alone.

Masterlist / archive

It wasn't John's fault. Not really.

It wasn't his fault Bucky had sent him on a month long mission to a place so remote it didn't even show up on a map. It wasn't his fault the signal was garbage, barely enough to send a text, much less hear your voice to at least relief himself on just how badly he needed you.

By the second week, he was already losing his mind.

Because waking up soaked in sweat with a cock so hard it hurt wasn't the problem, it was waking up alone. Reaching out blindly for the soft heat of your body only to find cold sheets and a cruel reminder that you were only in his dreams. Nothing more than a fucking fantasy. That the version of you riding him, moaning his name in that perfect, ruined little voice of yours, was nothing but a sick joke his head kept playing on loop.

It was maddening.

So no, it wasn't his fault that the tension inside him just kept building up like he was some horny teenager. And no matter how many times his hand drifted down to try to relieve some, anything, he never let himself finish. Not once.

Because coming without you felt wrong.

He told himself the same thing every time, between gritted teeth and sweat dripping from his brow: save it for her.

Every. Single. Drop.

He wrapped up his assignment three days earlier. Fueled by the image of you on your knees, of your pretty little mouth open for him, of that wet heaven between your legs he hadn't tasted in weeks.

He barely acknowledged Yelena when she passed him in the hallway that night he arrived. She raised a brow, opening her mouth to speak.

"Not now," John snapped, already walking past her.

Yelena didn't press further, just raised an eyebrow at the direction John was headed to. Your room.

Yeah, not exactly a shock. 

It wasn't a secret you two were having ... something. The compound's walls weren't that thick, and no one here was blind either. You'd both been caught sneaking out of each other's rooms enough times that it barely qualified as "sneaking" anymore.

The whole damn compound probably had a scorecard by now.

At this point, it was honestly ridiculous you still had separate rooms at all. Maybe you liked the thrill of it ... or maybe you were just idiots.

Either way, Yelena knew one thing for sure, she'd probably end up crashing in the living room with the others from that floor, if they wanted to get some sleep that night.

But when John finally reached your door, you weren't there.

He groaned in frustration, eyes narrowing. Maybe you were in the kitchen. Maybe you'd just stepped out, the warm lamp illuminating your messed bedsheets told him so.

Fine. He could wait ... barely.

He dropped his duffel and shield in the his room and headed straight for your shower, too tense to sit still. He scrubbed off the mission, the restraint, all while ignoring the throbbing between his legs he'd been carrying for weeks now. He told himself just a little longer, just a few more minutes and he could finally bury himself in you again, where he belonged.

He was mid drying his body when he heard the door of the room open. He tracked the sound of your footsteps across the room, the gentle bounce of the mattress as you hummed a song.

"Wanna try out some freaky positions ... have you ever tried this one?"

He paused with the towel in hand, half grinning to himself. What on earth were you singing now?

It wasn't the first time he'd caught you in your room with headphones on, humming to yourself like no one else existed. He loved it, loved the way you sang so freely when you thought you were alone. It was always cute. Except this time the lyrics were far away from being “cute”.

He opened the bathroom door with anticipation, hoping to catch your surprised face when you saw him standing in your bathroom with just a towel covering his lower half. But you couldn't see him.

You were sitting cross legged on the bed, facing the headboard. Wearing nothing but one of his huge old shirts, the hem barely covering your thighs, and those noise canceling headphones Yelena and Bob gave you for your birthday.

You were swaying softly, completely oblivious to his presence. The music was loud enough that he could hear the faint echo of a girl's voice through the headphones. Your head bobbed to the beat, eyes glued to your phone.

"One of me is cute, but two though?

Give it to me, baby

You make me wanna make you fall in love," you sang softly, scrolling absentmindedly.

John leaned against the doorframe, one hand holding the towel around his hips, tilted head and a smirk on his face. He lost interest on the music you were humming for a moment, his gaze dropped lower.

Was there anything under that shirt?

He needed to know. He had to.

The hem of the shirt shifted with your movement, offering teasing little flashes of your bare thighs. He tried, really tried to shake those thoughts away. It was a sweet moment. He could hear the playfulness in your voice, maybe you were even thinking about him.

But then the lyrics hit again.

"Adore me, hold me and explore me

Mark your territory

Tell me I'm the only, only, only, one"

He didn't know why the words hit him like that. Maybe it was the anticipation of it all. Maybe it was because they echoed every filthy thought he'd tried to bottle up over the past month. Maybe because he barely held himself together anymore.

He hadn't even touched himself in the last few days ... hadn't dared. Just drowned in the pent up need to be inside you, so thoroughly you'd be dripping with him for days.

"Adore me, hold me and explore me

I'm so fucking horny."

The words came out of your mouth in that same casual, airy tone, like you didn't even realize you were saying them. It was almost innocent. But he shook his head, because he knew you.

Always that mouth. That filthy, sweet, open mouth.

"Jesus Christ..." he muttered to himself.

"Tell me I'm the only, only, only one"

You sighed this time, flopping back on the bed with a dramatic groan, closing your eyes while you held your phone against your chest. The movement of your legs caused the hem of his shirt to ride up your thighs just enough to answer his question.

No panties.

That was it.

He crossed the room in three strides, eyes locked on the picture of you laid out beneath him, upside down from his angle, completely unaware of his gaze fixed on you.

What a treat.

He reached for your headphones, but your eyes flew open before he could pull them off. You yelped, gasping at the sight of him looming over you.

"John?!" you gasped, scrambling upright so fast your phone bounced off the bed, headphones following.

You weren't expecting to see him there at all, at least not yet, he was supposed to arrive by the end of the week. Not that you could ever complain though, the image in front of you was something you'd been dreaming all those weeks he was gone.

His body still damp from the shower, towel barely hanging onto his hips, wet blond hair dripping all over his shoulders … and that devilishly charming grin on his face.

"Hey, sweetheart," he greeted, nonchalantly, like he didnt almost give you a heart attack.

You blinked a few times, with a breath caught on your throat. "Did you ... did you just come out of my bathroom?"

But you didn't even wait for an answer. Your body just launched forward, wrapping around him like you needed to prove he was real. He caught you instantly with a faint laugh, one arm curling tight around your waist, the other gripping his towel.

His nose brushed your temple as he whispered, "Got back early, couldn't wait to see you."

You smiled, and couldn't wait any longer either, so you crashed your lips against his. There was no hesitation from him, his hands gripped your waist hard, like he needed to anchor himself. Your fingers clawed his chest, his shoulders, dragging him closer by the back of his neck, needing more.

Needing everything.

His body pressed into yours with no space left between, large hands roaming all over your waist, your back, you ass. It wasn't slow, it wasn't sweet. It was tongues and fingers digging into skin. His rough beard scratching against your soft skin.

You pulled back just long enough to breathe, but he chased your mouth, biting at your bottom lip, not letting you go far.

"Fuck, I missed you," you muttered against his mouth, chest heaving. "Why didn't you say anything?"

He chuckled, raising his brow, his chest vibrating against yours. "Didn't want to interrupt the show."

Your face burned. You tried to hide in his chest, but he grabbed your chin so you wouldn't.

"You gonna tell me the rest of those lyrics?" he asked, looking down at you.

You just cursed lowly, because of course he heard all that.

In one smooth motion, he spun you around so your knees hit the bed and your was back pressed to his damp chest. His arm hooked across your shoulders, keeping you upright as his mouth dragged slow, wet kisses along the side of your neck.

"Don’t be shy … I liked that little song of yours," he mumbled against your skin. "But I think I misheard the best part honey ... you said you were what?"

Your breath hitched, you knew he heard you damn right the first time. And he knew you knew. His arm gripped your hip, guiding your ass to grind against him, and that's when you felt it. Felt him. The thick press of his bulge through the towel, hot and painfully hard, in a way that made you drool in anticipation.

"I said ... you were fucking what baby? What was it again?" he growled, pressing your hip harder when you didn't reply.

Your knees suddenly felt weak. God, you had missed him so much, even if he was about to fuck every single line out of you.

"So fucking h-horny," you blurted out the lyrics, dropping your head back to rest on his shoulder.

He hummed, satisfied, slipping a hand down your shirt until he reached the mess between your thighs.

"Jesus, baby..." he rasped, your body jolting when his fingers barely brushed the slick already pooling there. "You're soaking just from that? tsk tsk tsk.”

"You were gone for so long John," you whined, instinctively pushing back against him, "can you really blame me?"

He laughed, lowly, like you've just told him something absurd.

"You think you’re horny?" he groaned, shaking his head. "I've been jerking off like some goddamn teenager for weeks, and the worst part? I couldn't even finish honey … thinking how you should be the one wringing it out of me."

You bit your lip, whimpering at the image.

"You know how fucking hard that was?" he continued. "Sleeping in a cold bed, not even being able to hear your voice while I had my cock in my hand, trying not to cum 'cause I wanted it all to be yours. Wanted to fill you up the second I got back."

He loosened his grip on you only enough to let go of the towel covering his body. He dragged your shirt higher and then he pressed his bare cock against your ass.

"Feel that, baby?" he growled in your ear. "This is what I've been carrying ... just for you."

"Then give it to me," you begged, squirming in his hold. "John, please, it's been too long..."

"Oh, I will." He chuckled darkly. “But you gotta run that dirty mouth a little bit longer.”

You whined, this is exactly where he wanted you.

"Imagine the first thing I hear when I come back is that filthy little mouth of yours ... what was it you were singin' about? some freaky positions?"

Shit.

"Hold on to me."

Before you could even process it, his arms were under your thighs. You let out a squeal as he took you off the bed, carrying you to the wall. He turned you around midair, and without even a sign of discomfort, lifted your body up until your legs instinctively wrapped around his neck.

Your back hit the wall with a soft thud, and your breath caught in your throat as you realized what was happening.

He was standing, fully upright. Holding you high in the air with your legs hooked over his shoulders, his hands locked under your ass. His face aligned perfectly with your dripping pussy.

"John," you gasped, gripping his wet hair when you realized your head was close to the ceiling now. "What the fuck ..."

He looked up grinning like a devil.

"What?" he asked innocently, smug as hell. "Have you ever tried this one?"

You nervously laughed, shaking your head incredulously.

"Don't worry, baby," he winked, bunching the shirt around your waist, exposing you completely to his greedy eyes. "I got you."

You gasped when his mouth latched on your pussy like he'd been dying of thirst. Obscene sounds filled the room, from your wetness, from the mess he was painting all over his beard, from your pleads. His grip was unshakable, anchoring you in place while his mouth worked like he was trying to make up for every second he'd been gone.

Your chest began rising up and down quickly, one hand desperately tugging his hair while the other traveled up for some sort of leverage, slapping blindly at the ceiling above you as your body trembled.

"John ... fuck–yes," you panted, vision blurring from the intensity.

He groaned against your pussy, the vibration shooting up your spine. It was too much. The strength in his arms, the way he held you there without even faltering, while dragging his tongue through every slick inch of you.

It felt worshipful.

"You're doing it so good, baby," You praised, tugging his hair harder.

He hummed against your pussy, sucking your clit into his mouth in a way only he knew how to make you see stars, and then looked up at you with those unfair baby blue eyes.

You almost came at the sight of him under you, beard all soaked, looking at you like he was getting drunk from your taste alone.

It wasn't long until your whole body began shaking, legs trembling where they were draped over his shoulders, the heels of your feet digging into his back like it would somehow ground you. But nothing could.

You were so high up the wall, so completely suspended by him, only your back touching anything solid, that your vision started to white out.

"J-John I can't ... I'm gonna–“

"Yeah?" he grunted. "Go on then, sweetheart ... mark your territory."

His fingers dug deeper into your ass, holding you in place as he moaned against your cunt, the vibrations sent you crashing over the edge.

Your thighs clenched around his head, body trembling as you reached your high. He didn't stop, not when you came, not when your back arched off the wall, not even when you whimpered his name.

He kept eating, drinking down every twitch of your orgasm, tongue flicking your clit until your thighs shook violently and you tried to push him away.

Your hands ran all over his hair, desperate.

"Too much ... John, baby, please–"

That's when he finally pulled back.

You blinked a few times at him, your juices glistening on his lips, running down his bearded chin. He looked wrecked. His wet hair all wild, jaw flexing, chest rising and falling like he'd been the one coming.

You twitched one more time, and he grinned satisfied.

"You taste even better than I remembered." His voice was raspy, so fucking sexy.

You barely had time to recover before he lowered you just enough to cradle you in his arms, still against the wall, but now your legs wrapped around his waist, your arms locked behind his neck.

He was the one you kissed you this time, making sure you tasted every drop of yourself on his lips. You could feel his hard cock trapped between you, hot and slick, leaking against your stomach.

"Still singin' that song in your head, sweetheart?" he asked as soon as you came apart, in that devilishly teasing tone.

"Huh?" You blurted out, dizzy from the haze.

He shook his head amused, he was barely getting started with you.

He adjusted his grip on you, before taking you off the wall. Your arms tightened around his neck, eyes wide as he carried you through the room, toward the bed. He lowered you on the mattress, spreading your legs with his knees as he hovered over you.

He didn't have patience for you to be covered anymore, even if seeing you in his shirt drove him insane. But he just needed you naked when he came all over you. So he easily ripped his shirt off from you, throwing it somewhere in the room. His eyes dragged down your body, pausing at the mess between your thighs, at the way your chest heaved, at the way your eyes pleaded.

"You look like a fuckin' dream," he muttered, voice rough. This is all he'd been waiting for, all he’d been fantasizing about.

Before you could say anything, hell, before you could even breathe, he grabbed his cock in his hand, slapping the fat head of it against your soaked pussy.

Once. Twice. Again.

You jolt with each wet hit, little shocked gasps slipping from your lips as your sensitive clit twitched under the weight of his cock.

"Too much?" he asked, grinning as he slapped your folds again, harder this time. "You're twitching so pretty for me, sweetheart."

"John ... fuck–please," you whined, head rolling back on the mattress.

He just grinned, treating himself to a few more heavy wet slaps. You looked so pretty when you shivered, when you begged.

You gasped when you felt him pressing in your entrance with no warning. Head shooting up, eyes going wide just in time to see how he only pushed the tip in. Just that goddamn massive tip, splitting you open with a stretch that knocked the air right out of your lungs. You couldn’t help but throw your head back again.

"I know, baby," he groaned at the feeling of your pussy around him. "You're so tight and so full already … look at you, it's not even halfway in," he praised, breath coming short.

He didn't go deeper. Just pushed the head of his cock against your entrance, in and out. Driving you wild.

And my god, he was so vocal. The grunting, the low growling. The slow movement of his hips like he was holding himself back from slamming balls deep inside you. You knew he has.

You whimpered, clutching the sheets, your hips rolled up to chase more, deeper, but he pinned you down, his chest tensing as he held himself back with a growl.

"Just the tip for now, baby."

He wanted to take his time. Make you go as many rounds as he'd saved his cum for the time he was away. But when you clenched your pussy around the head of his cock, he almost almost bursted right there. He kept pressing in, just the swollen crown stretching you wide.

“God … John,” you whimper, grabbing the sheets. “I love the way you fit.”

“I know,” he hisses, eyes glued to where your bodies met. “Feels so fucking good like this.”

He didn’t thrust deep, just moved in short, devastating rolls of his hips that drove that thick tip over your sweetest spot again and again, attempting to drag another orgasm right back out of you.

“You gonna cum again, baby? tip’s too much for you already?”

That cockiness, that smug grin on his face, the way he keep pushing just a part of himself in that teasing pace, made you unravel, his name came out between gasps, body spasming with the pressure.

“Just like that baby, taking me so well, and I haven’t even fucked you properly yet.”

No he hadn’t, still made you see white as you rode your second high on the night. He groaned at the sight, feeling himself closer and closer.

"You want me to cum like this?" he gritted, hips grinding. "Been saving it, my sweet fucking cum ...all yours. You want it?"

You just nodded, eyes still seeing stars, breathless.

"Then sing it for me.”

Your brows furrowed. "W-What?"

"Sing the fuckin' lyric." He growled this time, leaning closer. "The part that got you all worked up. Let's hear it again sweetheart, just the good part"

Your cheeks flushed, brain fuzzing. "John—"

He slammed forward, just an inch deeper, but so hard it knocked a cry out of your throat. You swallowed hard, while he waited expectantly without moving, making you ache for the friction.

"...Adore me..." you mumbled, barely singing.

“Louder."

“Adore me... hold me... and explore me..."

You noticed the way he was becoming undone to your shaky voice, breathing caught in his throat as he began fucking you again his leaking tip, exploring your entire body with his hands. His eyes glistened with anticipation. He needed you to say it, he was so close.

"Go on, what’s next?” He growled between gritted teeth, hips dragging faster his tip in and out of your entrance, hands pinching your nipples.

"...Mark your territory..." you whispered, nearly choking on your words.

"Yeah," he breathed, voice feral. "That's the one."

He let out a guttural sound, hips slamming forward, his body locking up as he finally let himself spill into you, tip buried, grinding into your clenching pussy while his cum rushed out desperate, like it's been waiting to drip out of you.

"Fuck– ugh baby, fuck..."

You felt it before you even saw it. The first hot pulses inside you, so thick and warm. But he’d dreamed about you covered in him, so he pulled out, his cum leaking out behind him in thick drips as he poured the rest of himself on you. You felt it spill all over your body, one spurt. Then another. And another.

And another.

"Oh my –shit, baby," you gasped , eyes flying wide as he poured into you. "That's so much, John ... holy fuck–"

He kept going while he grunted, kept spilling, holding the base of his cock tight as he came all over you. Your clenching walls pushed what was left inside you out, dripping down your pussy, pooling on the sheets.

"Shit–can't stop," he panted, all flushed, watching with hooded eyes as his cum kept painting your body. "Fuck, look at you ... you're soaked."

You glanced down, and your jaw dropped.

It was everywhere. Your belly, your thighs, the curve of your hips. Sticky, thick white streaks all over your chest, a faint drop on your neck. And even more dripping out your pussy like he never pulled out.

And it had been just with the tip.

"John... it’s so much..." you panted, voice barely above a whisper.

"Told you I was saving it up, honey," he grinned, breathless yet still smug, proud ... asshole.

He leaned down, dragging two fingers through the mess on your belly, gathering a thick strand of it, and then smearing it right back onto your skin, lazier, messier, spreading it even more.

"You're not getting cleaned up," he mumbled, voice rough. "Not yet. I want you to feel it. I want you to lie here soaking in it."

You whimpered as his fingers trailed lower, collecting more where it was pooling between your thighs. He spread it around your folds, deliberately pushing it over your sensitive clit, and you jolted, hips twitching.

"Still twitchy," he smirked, loving the way you squirmed. "So damn pretty when you're sensitive."

Then he dragged his fingers back up and smeared more of it across your chest, rubbing his release into your skin like he wanted it to stay there.

His territory marked. Owned.

You were trying to catch your breath, your limbs heavy, skin flushed and sticky, brain barely holding onto thoughts.

But then, the weight of him moved over you again. His hand gripped your wet thigh hard, pushing it up and out. His cock, hard again, sliding right through the mess between your legs, thick and wet from your arousal and his white paint.

Your eyes flew open. "John ... just give me a minute–"

"It's okay baby, I got you."

He grabbed your limp body and flipped it over, chest against the mattress, ass low, while he crossed your arms behind your back so he could raise your back to him. His cock pressed against your ass, and you suddenly needed him more than before.

"Need you ... all of it … please"

This time he didn't say anything, he just thrusted. He buried himself deep, all the way this time, no more teasing with the tip. The sudden stretch made your whole body arch, back curling away from him but he tightened his grip on your arms, as a helpless cry ripped from your throat.

"Shit, you're so tight," he growled, voice rough with need.

He set a brutal rhythm instantly, hips snapping against your ass, the wet slap of skin on skin loud and filthy in the room. You were too sensitive, too full, too overstimulated, but you couldn't stop moaning. Your body could take it. Needed it.

One large hand gripped yours on your lower back, the other landing a smack in your ass as he fucked into you, panting, wild, relentless.

"You're so fucking perfect," he leaned down, teeth grazing your shoulder. "I'm gonna come inside this time. So deep you'll feel it for days."

Your mind was gone. Words were gone. You were just whimpering, relying on his grip to hold you up while he ruined you for the third time.

This is how he needed you. Overstimulated, a moaning mess, dragging orgasm after orgasm out of you. You clenched around his whole length this time, tighter, he looked down at you and smirked.

"Cum on my cock, baby. That's what it's for, all yours."

His deep voice sent you over the edge. Your walls fluttered around his cock, your back arched as you came again while he fucked you through it, clenching around him with a strangled cry. He slammed in deeper, his cock twitching for release.

"Take it, baby … so pretty how your take it."

He growled seeing you become undone again, losing his last thread of restraint.

"Oh fuck..."

"Come on John, I know you still have more for me.”

You felt it the moment he started to lose control, his rhythm stuttering, jaw almost snapping, breath hot and shaky against your skin.

"Gonna fill you up again," he growled, hips slamming into you one last time.

And then he crashed again, deep inside you, seed thick and hot, spilling into your pussy in those long, creamy strings. Your body jolted under him, back arching, but he didn't pull out this time.

He kept himself buried balls deep, cock twitching inside you, his hands tight still holding your arms behind your back.

"Jesus," he groaned, dazed. "You're fuckin' milking me."

You hummed, overstimulated and trembling, feeling every drop of him, filling you up until it began leaking back out.

A slow, thick stream of cum slipped out around his cock, trickling between your thighs, dripping down your leg as John just watched. Mesmerized. Smirking.

He let his grip on you go, gently letting your chest fall back on the mattress, cock still inside you. He looked down.

"Look at that," he mumbled. "Can't even hold it all." He pulled his cock back a little, just enough to make it spill faster. "Fucked you so full I can feel it spilling out of you."

You moaned, all weak, breathless. "Saved all that sweet cum just for me Johnny."

"It's all I thought about baby," he gritted, dragging his thumb to smear the mess around.

He finally pulled out, a gasp escaping your mouth when you felt all his love dripping out of you.

"Look how pretty you are when you're leaking my cum..."

You thought he would give you a minute this time. A little break to remember how to breathe again, when he helped you turn around so you laid your back on the bed, facing him now.

You could feel it against your leg, he was hardening again. Like your whole body wasn't already covered in all of him.

You felt the weight of his cock, thick, flushed, and heavy against your overstimulated pussy, you whimpered when he pressed the head back to your folds.

"John," you breathed, head rolling back. "You already ... fuck, you came so much baby."

"I know," he growled, pressing his forehead to yours. His breath was hot against your cheek. "I know. But look at me, baby."

He grabbed the base of his cock and rubbed the tip through the slick, tender mess between your legs, your whole body reacting. "Still fuckin' hard."

It wasn't his fault. The serum had enhanced everything. Every fucking thing. And he'd been gone, for too damn long.

You barely had time to recover. You were still twitching, body too sensitive, soaked and overstimulated. But your hands still reached to his back, to push him into you one more thing.

"Greedy little thing." He chuckled, shaking his head. “Can’t even hold yourself up but you keep reaching for more.”

So he complied, slow at first, like he could still tease after all he’d done to you by now. His hips rolled forward, pushing his previous loads deeper. You gasped, legs trembling, nails digging into his back as you shook your head and whimpered, "John, I can't–"

"Yes, you can," he growled. "You're gonna take every drop. Again."

Then he snaps his hips forward, hard.

Your whole body bounces as he fucked it into you one more time, his cock slamming through the mess he already left inside, making it gush out in slick, tiny splashes with every thrust.

"Fuck, listen to that," he snarled, going feral at the obscene sounds. "So messy for me. You love this."

And the worst part? He was right.

Because even through the overstimulation, the ache, the stretch, you were clenching around him again, your body greedy, desperate, obeying every filthy command he made without question.

He was relentless. Gripping your hips, fucked into you like he was trying to imprint himself into your core, cock pounding the mess deeper while more of it leaked out down your ass and thighs.

"Still sensitive, sweetheart?" He was smug as sin, one hand spreading you open while the other pressed your lower belly. "You can take it … just a little more."

You didn’t take long to come again, nearly sobbing, legs shaking uncontrollably, and he groaned as you cried out his name, squeezing him tight.

He was there, almost there. But he wanted this one somewhere else.

He pulled out of your shaking pussy, and climbed over your body on the bed, straddling your chest as he guided his cock to your face.

"Open for me, sweetheart ... yeah that's it"

He shoved his cock in your mouth, and you gladly took it, all of it. In twitches it spilled down your throat. Salty, thick warmth overflowed your mouth as he grunted, coming all over your tongue.

You hit his thigh when you couldn't breathe anymore from how much it was, so he put a hand behind your neck to lift your head, and raised you to sit on the bed as he panted beside you, mesmerized by the view of you choking in it.

His hand ran comforting strokes down your back, as you tried to swallow as much as you could. Like you always did.

Like the good fucking girl you were for him.

"Look at you," he whistled in a growl. "Covered in me. Stuffed full of me. Choking on me … and I still see some untouched parts."

His thumb found your chin, smearing what had leaked out your mouth down your neck, and tilted your face toward his.

"How many times is that, baby?" he taunted, pushing the hair out of your sweaty face. "Two, three loads? … doesn't even matter, you always take ‘em all.”

You just whimpered to his praise, couldn't trust your voice when you still felt his warmth going down your throat.

You both go quiet.

The kind of quiet that only happened after John was finally satisfied with how many times you came on his cock, with the way you twitched from the sheer exhaustion, when you didn’t even know how to speak anymore.

He pressed kiss to your temple, his lips soft, lingering. The sharp edge of his voice from earlier was gone, replaced by a low raspy whisper as his fingers brushed over your spine.

“Hey… you still with me, baby?”

You nod weakly.

“That’s my girl,” he grinned. “You did so good for me. So damn good.”

As you regained your breath, he just held you for a moment with his hand on your back, and stared. At you. At the mess all over your body. At what he did.

At what you let him do.

“C’mere” He whispered, while he pulled you into his lap, and settled you down on his wet cock.

You moan out, body going limp and stuffed beyond reason as he held you there, not moving, just filling you up for the last time. You clung to him with the last bits of strength you had left, while he wiped the sweat and hair out of your face.

“Just sit here sweetheart, you’re okay” he breathed against your hair, rubbing soothing circles on your body. “Keep me warm while you recover baby, don’t spill another drop.”

He wrapped his arms around you, possessive, smug but with tenderness now, he kissed your shoulder like it was the softest thing in the world. He could feel the stickiness of your body on him, a sweet reminder that you were in fact, the only only only one for him.

“We’ll cleanup later, baby” He cooed and you just nodded weakly, placing a kiss on his pec.

He leaned slightly to see your face, to catch a glimpse of that blissed out, weak smile on your lips. He smiled adoringly, with that softness that only came after he wrecked you.

But then, without even a doubt, a harsh chuckle left his throat.

“Have I marked my territory enough?”

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comments and reblogs are always appreciated, thank you so much for reading 🖤

[starktonyx]

My bad babe *tucks hair behind my ear* 🙂‍↕️

Have you ever tried this one?

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Pairing: John Walker x reader. Word count: 5.2k

Note: Another one inspired by a Sabrina Carpenter song, this time it’s Juno. If you know, you know😉 enjoy 🫶🏼

Description: John had been away on a long mission. A month of nothing but his fist and filthy thoughts of you, edging himself to save it all for you. Every last drop. So when he catches you singing some dirty song about needing it deep? You get exactly what you asked for.

Tags/Warnings: Smut, fem!reader, John gets freaky with his super strength, oral f!rec, only the tip, piv sex, cum play, cum kink (srlsy a lot🙂‍↕️), overstimulation (he just keeps going), so much dirty talk, literally just 5k words of filth with plot.

Happens in the same universe as “Come right on me … I mean camaraderie” but can be read as a stand alone.

Masterlist / archive

It wasn't John's fault. Not really.

It wasn't his fault Bucky had sent him on a month long mission to a place so remote it didn't even show up on a map. It wasn't his fault the signal was garbage, barely enough to send a text, much less hear your voice to at least relief himself on just how badly he needed you.

By the second week, he was already losing his mind.

Because waking up soaked in sweat with a cock so hard it hurt wasn't the problem, it was waking up alone. Reaching out blindly for the soft heat of your body only to find cold sheets and a cruel reminder that you were only in his dreams. Nothing more than a fucking fantasy. That the version of you riding him, moaning his name in that perfect, ruined little voice of yours, was nothing but a sick joke his head kept playing on loop.

It was maddening.

So no, it wasn't his fault that the tension inside him just kept building up like he was some horny teenager. And no matter how many times his hand drifted down to try to relieve some, anything, he never let himself finish. Not once.

Because coming without you felt wrong.

He told himself the same thing every time, between gritted teeth and sweat dripping from his brow: save it for her.

Every. Single. Drop.

He wrapped up his assignment three days earlier. Fueled by the image of you on your knees, of your pretty little mouth open for him, of that wet heaven between your legs he hadn't tasted in weeks.

He barely acknowledged Yelena when she passed him in the hallway that night he arrived. She raised a brow, opening her mouth to speak.

"Not now," John snapped, already walking past her.

Yelena didn't press further, just raised an eyebrow at the direction John was headed to. Your room.

Yeah, not exactly a shock. 

It wasn't a secret you two were having ... something. The compound's walls weren't that thick, and no one here was blind either. You'd both been caught sneaking out of each other's rooms enough times that it barely qualified as "sneaking" anymore.

The whole damn compound probably had a scorecard by now.

At this point, it was honestly ridiculous you still had separate rooms at all. Maybe you liked the thrill of it ... or maybe you were just idiots.

Either way, Yelena knew one thing for sure, she'd probably end up crashing in the living room with the others from that floor, if they wanted to get some sleep that night.

But when John finally reached your door, you weren't there.

He groaned in frustration, eyes narrowing. Maybe you were in the kitchen. Maybe you'd just stepped out, the warm lamp illuminating your messed bedsheets told him so.

Fine. He could wait ... barely.

He dropped his duffel and shield in the his room and headed straight for your shower, too tense to sit still. He scrubbed off the mission, the restraint, all while ignoring the throbbing between his legs he'd been carrying for weeks now. He told himself just a little longer, just a few more minutes and he could finally bury himself in you again, where he belonged.

He was mid drying his body when he heard the door of the room open. He tracked the sound of your footsteps across the room, the gentle bounce of the mattress as you hummed a song.

"Wanna try out some freaky positions ... have you ever tried this one?"

He paused with the towel in hand, half grinning to himself. What on earth were you singing now?

It wasn't the first time he'd caught you in your room with headphones on, humming to yourself like no one else existed. He loved it, loved the way you sang so freely when you thought you were alone. It was always cute. Except this time the lyrics were far away from being “cute”.

He opened the bathroom door with anticipation, hoping to catch your surprised face when you saw him standing in your bathroom with just a towel covering his lower half. But you couldn't see him.

You were sitting cross legged on the bed, facing the headboard. Wearing nothing but one of his huge old shirts, the hem barely covering your thighs, and those noise canceling headphones Yelena and Bob gave you for your birthday.

You were swaying softly, completely oblivious to his presence. The music was loud enough that he could hear the faint echo of a girl's voice through the headphones. Your head bobbed to the beat, eyes glued to your phone.

"One of me is cute, but two though?

Give it to me, baby

You make me wanna make you fall in love," you sang softly, scrolling absentmindedly.

John leaned against the doorframe, one hand holding the towel around his hips, tilted head and a smirk on his face. He lost interest on the music you were humming for a moment, his gaze dropped lower.

Was there anything under that shirt?

He needed to know. He had to.

The hem of the shirt shifted with your movement, offering teasing little flashes of your bare thighs. He tried, really tried to shake those thoughts away. It was a sweet moment. He could hear the playfulness in your voice, maybe you were even thinking about him.

But then the lyrics hit again.

"Adore me, hold me and explore me

Mark your territory

Tell me I'm the only, only, only, one"

He didn't know why the words hit him like that. Maybe it was the anticipation of it all. Maybe it was because they echoed every filthy thought he'd tried to bottle up over the past month. Maybe because he barely held himself together anymore.

He hadn't even touched himself in the last few days ... hadn't dared. Just drowned in the pent up need to be inside you, so thoroughly you'd be dripping with him for days.

"Adore me, hold me and explore me

I'm so fucking horny."

The words came out of your mouth in that same casual, airy tone, like you didn't even realize you were saying them. It was almost innocent. But he shook his head, because he knew you.

Always that mouth. That filthy, sweet, open mouth.

"Jesus Christ..." he muttered to himself.

"Tell me I'm the only, only, only one"

You sighed this time, flopping back on the bed with a dramatic groan, closing your eyes while you held your phone against your chest. The movement of your legs caused the hem of his shirt to ride up your thighs just enough to answer his question.

No panties.

That was it.

He crossed the room in three strides, eyes locked on the picture of you laid out beneath him, upside down from his angle, completely unaware of his gaze fixed on you.

What a treat.

He reached for your headphones, but your eyes flew open before he could pull them off. You yelped, gasping at the sight of him looming over you.

"John?!" you gasped, scrambling upright so fast your phone bounced off the bed, headphones following.

You weren't expecting to see him there at all, at least not yet, he was supposed to arrive by the end of the week. Not that you could ever complain though, the image in front of you was something you'd been dreaming all those weeks he was gone.

His body still damp from the shower, towel barely hanging onto his hips, wet blond hair dripping all over his shoulders … and that devilishly charming grin on his face.

"Hey, sweetheart," he greeted, nonchalantly, like he didnt almost give you a heart attack.

You blinked a few times, with a breath caught on your throat. "Did you ... did you just come out of my bathroom?"

But you didn't even wait for an answer. Your body just launched forward, wrapping around him like you needed to prove he was real. He caught you instantly with a faint laugh, one arm curling tight around your waist, the other gripping his towel.

His nose brushed your temple as he whispered, "Got back early, couldn't wait to see you."

You smiled, and couldn't wait any longer either, so you crashed your lips against his. There was no hesitation from him, his hands gripped your waist hard, like he needed to anchor himself. Your fingers clawed his chest, his shoulders, dragging him closer by the back of his neck, needing more.

Needing everything.

His body pressed into yours with no space left between, large hands roaming all over your waist, your back, you ass. It wasn't slow, it wasn't sweet. It was tongues and fingers digging into skin. His rough beard scratching against your soft skin.

You pulled back just long enough to breathe, but he chased your mouth, biting at your bottom lip, not letting you go far.

"Fuck, I missed you," you muttered against his mouth, chest heaving. "Why didn't you say anything?"

He chuckled, raising his brow, his chest vibrating against yours. "Didn't want to interrupt the show."

Your face burned. You tried to hide in his chest, but he grabbed your chin so you wouldn't.

"You gonna tell me the rest of those lyrics?" he asked, looking down at you.

You just cursed lowly, because of course he heard all that.

In one smooth motion, he spun you around so your knees hit the bed and your was back pressed to his damp chest. His arm hooked across your shoulders, keeping you upright as his mouth dragged slow, wet kisses along the side of your neck.

"Don’t be shy … I liked that little song of yours," he mumbled against your skin. "But I think I misheard the best part honey ... you said you were what?"

Your breath hitched, you knew he heard you damn right the first time. And he knew you knew. His arm gripped your hip, guiding your ass to grind against him, and that's when you felt it. Felt him. The thick press of his bulge through the towel, hot and painfully hard, in a way that made you drool in anticipation.

"I said ... you were fucking what baby? What was it again?" he growled, pressing your hip harder when you didn't reply.

Your knees suddenly felt weak. God, you had missed him so much, even if he was about to fuck every single line out of you.

"So fucking h-horny," you blurted out the lyrics, dropping your head back to rest on his shoulder.

He hummed, satisfied, slipping a hand down your shirt until he reached the mess between your thighs.

"Jesus, baby..." he rasped, your body jolting when his fingers barely brushed the slick already pooling there. "You're soaking just from that? tsk tsk tsk.”

"You were gone for so long John," you whined, instinctively pushing back against him, "can you really blame me?"

He laughed, lowly, like you've just told him something absurd.

"You think you’re horny?" he groaned, shaking his head. "I've been jerking off like some goddamn teenager for weeks, and the worst part? I couldn't even finish honey … thinking how you should be the one wringing it out of me."

You bit your lip, whimpering at the image.

"You know how fucking hard that was?" he continued. "Sleeping in a cold bed, not even being able to hear your voice while I had my cock in my hand, trying not to cum 'cause I wanted it all to be yours. Wanted to fill you up the second I got back."

He loosened his grip on you only enough to let go of the towel covering his body. He dragged your shirt higher and then he pressed his bare cock against your ass.

"Feel that, baby?" he growled in your ear. "This is what I've been carrying ... just for you."

"Then give it to me," you begged, squirming in his hold. "John, please, it's been too long..."

"Oh, I will." He chuckled darkly. “But you gotta run that dirty mouth a little bit longer.”

You whined, this is exactly where he wanted you.

"Imagine the first thing I hear when I come back is that filthy little mouth of yours ... what was it you were singin' about? some freaky positions?"

Shit.

"Hold on to me."

Before you could even process it, his arms were under your thighs. You let out a squeal as he took you off the bed, carrying you to the wall. He turned you around midair, and without even a sign of discomfort, lifted your body up until your legs instinctively wrapped around his neck.

Your back hit the wall with a soft thud, and your breath caught in your throat as you realized what was happening.

He was standing, fully upright. Holding you high in the air with your legs hooked over his shoulders, his hands locked under your ass. His face aligned perfectly with your dripping pussy.

"John," you gasped, gripping his wet hair when you realized your head was close to the ceiling now. "What the fuck ..."

He looked up grinning like a devil.

"What?" he asked innocently, smug as hell. "Have you ever tried this one?"

You nervously laughed, shaking your head incredulously.

"Don't worry, baby," he winked, bunching the shirt around your waist, exposing you completely to his greedy eyes. "I got you."

You gasped when his mouth latched on your pussy like he'd been dying of thirst. Obscene sounds filled the room, from your wetness, from the mess he was painting all over his beard, from your pleads. His grip was unshakable, anchoring you in place while his mouth worked like he was trying to make up for every second he'd been gone.

Your chest began rising up and down quickly, one hand desperately tugging his hair while the other traveled up for some sort of leverage, slapping blindly at the ceiling above you as your body trembled.

"John ... fuck–yes," you panted, vision blurring from the intensity.

He groaned against your pussy, the vibration shooting up your spine. It was too much. The strength in his arms, the way he held you there without even faltering, while dragging his tongue through every slick inch of you.

It felt worshipful.

"You're doing it so good, baby," You praised, tugging his hair harder.

He hummed against your pussy, sucking your clit into his mouth in a way only he knew how to make you see stars, and then looked up at you with those unfair baby blue eyes.

You almost came at the sight of him under you, beard all soaked, looking at you like he was getting drunk from your taste alone.

It wasn't long until your whole body began shaking, legs trembling where they were draped over his shoulders, the heels of your feet digging into his back like it would somehow ground you. But nothing could.

You were so high up the wall, so completely suspended by him, only your back touching anything solid, that your vision started to white out.

"J-John I can't ... I'm gonna–“

"Yeah?" he grunted. "Go on then, sweetheart ... mark your territory."

His fingers dug deeper into your ass, holding you in place as he moaned against your cunt, the vibrations sent you crashing over the edge.

Your thighs clenched around his head, body trembling as you reached your high. He didn't stop, not when you came, not when your back arched off the wall, not even when you whimpered his name.

He kept eating, drinking down every twitch of your orgasm, tongue flicking your clit until your thighs shook violently and you tried to push him away.

Your hands ran all over his hair, desperate.

"Too much ... John, baby, please–"

That's when he finally pulled back.

You blinked a few times at him, your juices glistening on his lips, running down his bearded chin. He looked wrecked. His wet hair all wild, jaw flexing, chest rising and falling like he'd been the one coming.

You twitched one more time, and he grinned satisfied.

"You taste even better than I remembered." His voice was raspy, so fucking sexy.

You barely had time to recover before he lowered you just enough to cradle you in his arms, still against the wall, but now your legs wrapped around his waist, your arms locked behind his neck.

He was the one you kissed you this time, making sure you tasted every drop of yourself on his lips. You could feel his hard cock trapped between you, hot and slick, leaking against your stomach.

"Still singin' that song in your head, sweetheart?" he asked as soon as you came apart, in that devilishly teasing tone.

"Huh?" You blurted out, dizzy from the haze.

He shook his head amused, he was barely getting started with you.

He adjusted his grip on you, before taking you off the wall. Your arms tightened around his neck, eyes wide as he carried you through the room, toward the bed. He lowered you on the mattress, spreading your legs with his knees as he hovered over you.

He didn't have patience for you to be covered anymore, even if seeing you in his shirt drove him insane. But he just needed you naked when he came all over you. So he easily ripped his shirt off from you, throwing it somewhere in the room. His eyes dragged down your body, pausing at the mess between your thighs, at the way your chest heaved, at the way your eyes pleaded.

"You look like a fuckin' dream," he muttered, voice rough. This is all he'd been waiting for, all he’d been fantasizing about.

Before you could say anything, hell, before you could even breathe, he grabbed his cock in his hand, slapping the fat head of it against your soaked pussy.

Once. Twice. Again.

You jolt with each wet hit, little shocked gasps slipping from your lips as your sensitive clit twitched under the weight of his cock.

"Too much?" he asked, grinning as he slapped your folds again, harder this time. "You're twitching so pretty for me, sweetheart."

"John ... fuck–please," you whined, head rolling back on the mattress.

He just grinned, treating himself to a few more heavy wet slaps. You looked so pretty when you shivered, when you begged.

You gasped when you felt him pressing in your entrance with no warning. Head shooting up, eyes going wide just in time to see how he only pushed the tip in. Just that goddamn massive tip, splitting you open with a stretch that knocked the air right out of your lungs. You couldn’t help but throw your head back again.

"I know, baby," he groaned at the feeling of your pussy around him. "You're so tight and so full already … look at you, it's not even halfway in," he praised, breath coming short.

He didn't go deeper. Just pushed the head of his cock against your entrance, in and out. Driving you wild.

And my god, he was so vocal. The grunting, the low growling. The slow movement of his hips like he was holding himself back from slamming balls deep inside you. You knew he has.

You whimpered, clutching the sheets, your hips rolled up to chase more, deeper, but he pinned you down, his chest tensing as he held himself back with a growl.

"Just the tip for now, baby."

He wanted to take his time. Make you go as many rounds as he'd saved his cum for the time he was away. But when you clenched your pussy around the head of his cock, he almost almost bursted right there. He kept pressing in, just the swollen crown stretching you wide.

“God … John,” you whimper, grabbing the sheets. “I love the way you fit.”

“I know,” he hisses, eyes glued to where your bodies met. “Feels so fucking good like this.”

He didn’t thrust deep, just moved in short, devastating rolls of his hips that drove that thick tip over your sweetest spot again and again, attempting to drag another orgasm right back out of you.

“You gonna cum again, baby? tip’s too much for you already?”

That cockiness, that smug grin on his face, the way he keep pushing just a part of himself in that teasing pace, made you unravel, his name came out between gasps, body spasming with the pressure.

“Just like that baby, taking me so well, and I haven’t even fucked you properly yet.”

No he hadn’t, still made you see white as you rode your second high on the night. He groaned at the sight, feeling himself closer and closer.

"You want me to cum like this?" he gritted, hips grinding. "Been saving it, my sweet fucking cum ...all yours. You want it?"

You just nodded, eyes still seeing stars, breathless.

"Then sing it for me.”

Your brows furrowed. "W-What?"

"Sing the fuckin' lyric." He growled this time, leaning closer. "The part that got you all worked up. Let's hear it again sweetheart, just the good part"

Your cheeks flushed, brain fuzzing. "John—"

He slammed forward, just an inch deeper, but so hard it knocked a cry out of your throat. You swallowed hard, while he waited expectantly without moving, making you ache for the friction.

"...Adore me..." you mumbled, barely singing.

“Louder."

“Adore me... hold me... and explore me..."

You noticed the way he was becoming undone to your shaky voice, breathing caught in his throat as he began fucking you again his leaking tip, exploring your entire body with his hands. His eyes glistened with anticipation. He needed you to say it, he was so close.

"Go on, what’s next?” He growled between gritted teeth, hips dragging faster his tip in and out of your entrance, hands pinching your nipples.

"...Mark your territory..." you whispered, nearly choking on your words.

"Yeah," he breathed, voice feral. "That's the one."

He let out a guttural sound, hips slamming forward, his body locking up as he finally let himself spill into you, tip buried, grinding into your clenching pussy while his cum rushed out desperate, like it's been waiting to drip out of you.

"Fuck– ugh baby, fuck..."

You felt it before you even saw it. The first hot pulses inside you, so thick and warm. But he’d dreamed about you covered in him, so he pulled out, his cum leaking out behind him in thick drips as he poured the rest of himself on you. You felt it spill all over your body, one spurt. Then another. And another.

And another.

"Oh my –shit, baby," you gasped , eyes flying wide as he poured into you. "That's so much, John ... holy fuck–"

He kept going while he grunted, kept spilling, holding the base of his cock tight as he came all over you. Your clenching walls pushed what was left inside you out, dripping down your pussy, pooling on the sheets.

"Shit–can't stop," he panted, all flushed, watching with hooded eyes as his cum kept painting your body. "Fuck, look at you ... you're soaked."

You glanced down, and your jaw dropped.

It was everywhere. Your belly, your thighs, the curve of your hips. Sticky, thick white streaks all over your chest, a faint drop on your neck. And even more dripping out your pussy like he never pulled out.

And it had been just with the tip.

"John... it’s so much..." you panted, voice barely above a whisper.

"Told you I was saving it up, honey," he grinned, breathless yet still smug, proud ... asshole.

He leaned down, dragging two fingers through the mess on your belly, gathering a thick strand of it, and then smearing it right back onto your skin, lazier, messier, spreading it even more.

"You're not getting cleaned up," he mumbled, voice rough. "Not yet. I want you to feel it. I want you to lie here soaking in it."

You whimpered as his fingers trailed lower, collecting more where it was pooling between your thighs. He spread it around your folds, deliberately pushing it over your sensitive clit, and you jolted, hips twitching.

"Still twitchy," he smirked, loving the way you squirmed. "So damn pretty when you're sensitive."

Then he dragged his fingers back up and smeared more of it across your chest, rubbing his release into your skin like he wanted it to stay there.

His territory marked. Owned.

You were trying to catch your breath, your limbs heavy, skin flushed and sticky, brain barely holding onto thoughts.

But then, the weight of him moved over you again. His hand gripped your wet thigh hard, pushing it up and out. His cock, hard again, sliding right through the mess between your legs, thick and wet from your arousal and his white paint.

Your eyes flew open. "John ... just give me a minute–"

"It's okay baby, I got you."

He grabbed your limp body and flipped it over, chest against the mattress, ass low, while he crossed your arms behind your back so he could raise your back to him. His cock pressed against your ass, and you suddenly needed him more than before.

"Need you ... all of it … please"

This time he didn't say anything, he just thrusted. He buried himself deep, all the way this time, no more teasing with the tip. The sudden stretch made your whole body arch, back curling away from him but he tightened his grip on your arms, as a helpless cry ripped from your throat.

"Shit, you're so tight," he growled, voice rough with need.

He set a brutal rhythm instantly, hips snapping against your ass, the wet slap of skin on skin loud and filthy in the room. You were too sensitive, too full, too overstimulated, but you couldn't stop moaning. Your body could take it. Needed it.

One large hand gripped yours on your lower back, the other landing a smack in your ass as he fucked into you, panting, wild, relentless.

"You're so fucking perfect," he leaned down, teeth grazing your shoulder. "I'm gonna come inside this time. So deep you'll feel it for days."

Your mind was gone. Words were gone. You were just whimpering, relying on his grip to hold you up while he ruined you for the third time.

This is how he needed you. Overstimulated, a moaning mess, dragging orgasm after orgasm out of you. You clenched around his whole length this time, tighter, he looked down at you and smirked.

"Cum on my cock, baby. That's what it's for, all yours."

His deep voice sent you over the edge. Your walls fluttered around his cock, your back arched as you came again while he fucked you through it, clenching around him with a strangled cry. He slammed in deeper, his cock twitching for release.

"Take it, baby … so pretty how your take it."

He growled seeing you become undone again, losing his last thread of restraint.

"Oh fuck..."

"Come on John, I know you still have more for me.”

You felt it the moment he started to lose control, his rhythm stuttering, jaw almost snapping, breath hot and shaky against your skin.

"Gonna fill you up again," he growled, hips slamming into you one last time.

And then he crashed again, deep inside you, seed thick and hot, spilling into your pussy in those long, creamy strings. Your body jolted under him, back arching, but he didn't pull out this time.

He kept himself buried balls deep, cock twitching inside you, his hands tight still holding your arms behind your back.

"Jesus," he groaned, dazed. "You're fuckin' milking me."

You hummed, overstimulated and trembling, feeling every drop of him, filling you up until it began leaking back out.

A slow, thick stream of cum slipped out around his cock, trickling between your thighs, dripping down your leg as John just watched. Mesmerized. Smirking.

He let his grip on you go, gently letting your chest fall back on the mattress, cock still inside you. He looked down.

"Look at that," he mumbled. "Can't even hold it all." He pulled his cock back a little, just enough to make it spill faster. "Fucked you so full I can feel it spilling out of you."

You moaned, all weak, breathless. "Saved all that sweet cum just for me Johnny."

"It's all I thought about baby," he gritted, dragging his thumb to smear the mess around.

He finally pulled out, a gasp escaping your mouth when you felt all his love dripping out of you.

"Look how pretty you are when you're leaking my cum..."

You thought he would give you a minute this time. A little break to remember how to breathe again, when he helped you turn around so you laid your back on the bed, facing him now.

You could feel it against your leg, he was hardening again. Like your whole body wasn't already covered in all of him.

You felt the weight of his cock, thick, flushed, and heavy against your overstimulated pussy, you whimpered when he pressed the head back to your folds.

"John," you breathed, head rolling back. "You already ... fuck, you came so much baby."

"I know," he growled, pressing his forehead to yours. His breath was hot against your cheek. "I know. But look at me, baby."

He grabbed the base of his cock and rubbed the tip through the slick, tender mess between your legs, your whole body reacting. "Still fuckin' hard."

It wasn't his fault. The serum had enhanced everything. Every fucking thing. And he'd been gone, for too damn long.

You barely had time to recover. You were still twitching, body too sensitive, soaked and overstimulated. But your hands still reached to his back, to push him into you one more thing.

"Greedy little thing." He chuckled, shaking his head. “Can’t even hold yourself up but you keep reaching for more.”

So he complied, slow at first, like he could still tease after all he’d done to you by now. His hips rolled forward, pushing his previous loads deeper. You gasped, legs trembling, nails digging into his back as you shook your head and whimpered, "John, I can't–"

"Yes, you can," he growled. "You're gonna take every drop. Again."

Then he snaps his hips forward, hard.

Your whole body bounces as he fucked it into you one more time, his cock slamming through the mess he already left inside, making it gush out in slick, tiny splashes with every thrust.

"Fuck, listen to that," he snarled, going feral at the obscene sounds. "So messy for me. You love this."

And the worst part? He was right.

Because even through the overstimulation, the ache, the stretch, you were clenching around him again, your body greedy, desperate, obeying every filthy command he made without question.

He was relentless. Gripping your hips, fucked into you like he was trying to imprint himself into your core, cock pounding the mess deeper while more of it leaked out down your ass and thighs.

"Still sensitive, sweetheart?" He was smug as sin, one hand spreading you open while the other pressed your lower belly. "You can take it … just a little more."

You didn’t take long to come again, nearly sobbing, legs shaking uncontrollably, and he groaned as you cried out his name, squeezing him tight.

He was there, almost there. But he wanted this one somewhere else.

He pulled out of your shaking pussy, and climbed over your body on the bed, straddling your chest as he guided his cock to your face.

"Open for me, sweetheart ... yeah that's it"

He shoved his cock in your mouth, and you gladly took it, all of it. In twitches it spilled down your throat. Salty, thick warmth overflowed your mouth as he grunted, coming all over your tongue.

You hit his thigh when you couldn't breathe anymore from how much it was, so he put a hand behind your neck to lift your head, and raised you to sit on the bed as he panted beside you, mesmerized by the view of you choking in it.

His hand ran comforting strokes down your back, as you tried to swallow as much as you could. Like you always did.

Like the good fucking girl you were for him.

"Look at you," he whistled in a growl. "Covered in me. Stuffed full of me. Choking on me … and I still see some untouched parts."

His thumb found your chin, smearing what had leaked out your mouth down your neck, and tilted your face toward his.

"How many times is that, baby?" he taunted, pushing the hair out of your sweaty face. "Two, three loads? … doesn't even matter, you always take ‘em all.”

You just whimpered to his praise, couldn't trust your voice when you still felt his warmth going down your throat.

You both go quiet.

The kind of quiet that only happened after John was finally satisfied with how many times you came on his cock, with the way you twitched from the sheer exhaustion, when you didn’t even know how to speak anymore.

He pressed kiss to your temple, his lips soft, lingering. The sharp edge of his voice from earlier was gone, replaced by a low raspy whisper as his fingers brushed over your spine.

“Hey… you still with me, baby?”

You nod weakly.

“That’s my girl,” he grinned. “You did so good for me. So damn good.”

As you regained your breath, he just held you for a moment with his hand on your back, and stared. At you. At the mess all over your body. At what he did.

At what you let him do.

“C’mere” He whispered, while he pulled you into his lap, and settled you down on his wet cock.

You moan out, body going limp and stuffed beyond reason as he held you there, not moving, just filling you up for the last time. You clung to him with the last bits of strength you had left, while he wiped the sweat and hair out of your face.

“Just sit here sweetheart, you’re okay” he breathed against your hair, rubbing soothing circles on your body. “Keep me warm while you recover baby, don’t spill another drop.”

He wrapped his arms around you, possessive, smug but with tenderness now, he kissed your shoulder like it was the softest thing in the world. He could feel the stickiness of your body on him, a sweet reminder that you were in fact, the only only only one for him.

“We’ll cleanup later, baby” He cooed and you just nodded weakly, placing a kiss on his pec.

He leaned slightly to see your face, to catch a glimpse of that blissed out, weak smile on your lips. He smiled adoringly, with that softness that only came after he wrecked you.

But then, without even a doubt, a harsh chuckle left his throat.

“Have I marked my territory enough?”

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comments and reblogs are always appreciated, thank you so much for reading 🖤

[starktonyx]

Actively spinning them in my head on a carousel and inserting more quarters till the machine breaks

[starktonyx]

This is the blog where I’ll keep all my recent fics reblogged. I post other stuff here so that one will be exclusive for hosting my writing!

Hi there! Welcome to the archive of my fics 🫶🏼

I will reblog every time I post a new fic on my main acc @starktonyx, so here you will find everything I write.

I write mainly for Bucky Barnes and John Walker.

masterlist

you can always follow this blog and turn on notifications if you don’t want to miss a thing 🖤

Thank you for reading!

[starktonyx]

Have you ever tried this one?

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Pairing: John Walker x reader. Word count: 5.2k

Note: Another one inspired by a Sabrina Carpenter song, this time it’s Juno. If you know, you know😉 enjoy 🫶🏼

Description: John had been away on a long mission. A month of nothing but his fist and filthy thoughts of you, edging himself to save it all for you. Every last drop. So when he catches you singing some dirty song about needing it deep? You get exactly what you asked for.

Tags/Warnings: Smut, fem!reader, John gets freaky with his super strength, oral f!rec, only the tip, piv sex, cum play, cum kink (srlsy a lot🙂‍↕️), overstimulation (he just keeps going), so much dirty talk, literally just 5k words of filth with plot.

Happens in the same universe as “Come right on me … I mean camaraderie” but can be read as a stand alone.

Masterlist / archive

It wasn't John's fault. Not really.

It wasn't his fault Bucky had sent him on a month long mission to a place so remote it didn't even show up on a map. It wasn't his fault the signal was garbage, barely enough to send a text, much less hear your voice to at least let you know just how badly he needed you.

By the second week, he was already losing his mind.

Because waking up soaked in sweat with a cock so hard it hurt wasn't the problem, it was waking up alone. Reaching out blindly for the soft heat of your body only to find cold sheets and a cruel reminder that you were only in his dreams. Nothing more than a fucking fantasy. That the version of you riding him, moaning his name in that perfect, ruined little voice of yours, was nothing but a sick joke his head kept playing on loop.

It was maddening.

So no, it wasn't his fault that the tension inside him just kept building up like he was some horny teenager. And no matter how many times his hand drifted down to try to relieve some, anything, he never let himself finish. Not once.

Because coming without you felt wrong.

He told himself the same thing every time, between gritted teeth and sweat dripping from his brow: save it for her.

Every. Single. Drop.

He wrapped up his assignment three days earlier. Fueled by the image of you on your knees, of your pretty little mouth open for him, of that wet heaven between your legs he hadn't tasted in weeks.

He barely acknowledged Yelena when she passed him in the hallway that night he arrived. She raised a brow, opening her mouth to speak.

"Not now," John snapped, already walking past her.

Yelena didn't press further, just raised an eyebrow at the direction John was headed to. Your room.

Yeah, not exactly a shock. 

It wasn't a secret you two were having ... something. The compound's walls weren't that thick, and no one here was blind either. You'd both been caught sneaking out of each other's rooms enough times that it barely qualified as "sneaking" anymore.

The whole damn compound probably had a scorecard by now.

At this point, it was honestly ridiculous you still had separate rooms at all. Maybe you liked the thrill of it ... or maybe you were just idiots.

Either way, Yelena knew one thing for sure, she'd probably end up crashing in the living room with the others from that floor, if they wanted to get some sleep that night.

But when John finally reached your door, you weren't there.

He groaned in frustration, eyes narrowing. Maybe you were in the kitchen. Maybe you'd just stepped out, the warm lamp illuminating your messed bedsheets told him so.

Fine. He could wait ... barely.

He dropped his duffel and shield in the his room and headed straight for your shower, too tense to sit still. He scrubbed off the mission, the restraint, all while ignoring the throbbing between his legs he'd been carrying for weeks now. He told himself just a little longer, just a few more minutes and he could finally bury himself in you again, where he belonged.

He was mid drying his body when he heard the door of the room open. He tracked the sound of your footsteps across the room, the gentle bounce of the mattress as you hummed a song.

"Wanna try out some freaky positions ... have you ever tried this one?"

He paused with the towel in hand, half grinning to himself. What on earth were you singing now?

It wasn't the first time he'd caught you in your room with headphones on, humming to yourself like no one else existed. He loved it, loved the way you sang so freely when you thought you were alone. It was always cute. Except this time the lyrics were far away from being “cute”.

He opened the bathroom door with anticipation, hoping to catch your surprised face when you saw him standing in your bathroom with just a towel covering his lower half. But you couldn't see him.

You were sitting cross legged on the bed, facing the headboard. Wearing nothing but one of his huge old shirts, the hem barely covering your thighs, and those noise canceling headphones Yelena and Bob gave you for your birthday.

You were swaying softly, completely oblivious to his presence. The music was loud enough that he could hear the faint echo of a girl's voice through the headphones. Your head bobbed to the beat, eyes glued to your phone.

"One of me is cute, but two though?

Give it to me, baby

You make me wanna make you fall in love," you sang softly, scrolling absentmindedly.

John leaned against the doorframe, one hand holding the towel around his hips, tilted head and a smirk on his face. He lost interest on the music you were humming for a moment, his gaze dropped lower.

Was there anything under that shirt?

He needed to know. He had to.

The hem of the shirt shifted with your movement, offering teasing little flashes of your bare thighs. He tried, really tried to shake those thoughts away. It was a sweet moment. He could hear the playfulness in your voice, maybe you were even thinking about him.

But then the lyrics hit again.

"Adore me, hold me and explore me

Mark your territory

Tell me I'm the only, only, only, one"

He didn't know why the words hit him like that. Maybe it was the anticipation of it all. Maybe it was because they echoed every filthy thought he'd tried to bottle up over the past month. Maybe because he barely held himself together anymore.

He hadn't even touched himself in the last few days ... hadn't dared. Just drowned in the pent up need to be inside you, so thoroughly you'd be dripping with him for days.

"Adore me, hold me and explore me

I'm so fucking horny."

The words came out of your mouth in that same casual, airy tone, like you didn't even realize you were saying them. It was almost innocent. But he shook his head, because he knew you.

Always that mouth. That filthy, sweet, open mouth.

"Jesus Christ..." he muttered to himself.

"Tell me I'm the only, only, only one"

You sighed this time, flopping back on the bed with a dramatic groan, closing your eyes while you held your phone against your chest. The movement of your legs caused the hem of his shirt to ride up your thighs just enough to answer his question.

No panties.

That was it.

He crossed the room in three strides, eyes locked on the picture of you laid out beneath him, upside down from his angle, completely unaware of his gaze fixed on you.

What a treat.

He reached for your headphones, but your eyes flew open before he could pull them off. You yelped, gasping at the sight of him looming over you.

"John?!" you gasped, scrambling upright so fast your phone bounced off the bed, headphones following.

You weren't expecting to see him there at all, at least not yet, he was supposed to arrive by the end of the week. Not that you could ever complain though, the image in front of you was something you'd been dreaming all those weeks he was gone.

His body still damp from the shower, towel barely hanging onto his hips, wet blond hair dripping all over his shoulders … and that devilishly charming grin on his face.

"Hey, sweetheart," he greeted, nonchalantly, like he didnt almost give you a heart attack.

You blinked a few times, with a breath caught on your throat. "Did you ... did you just come out of my bathroom?"

But you didn't even wait for an answer. Your body just launched forward, wrapping around him like you needed to prove he was real. He caught you instantly with a faint laugh, one arm curling tight around your waist, the other gripping his towel.

His nose brushed your temple as he whispered, "Got back early, couldn't wait to see you."

You smiled, and couldn't wait any longer either, so you crashed your lips against his. There was no hesitation from him, his hands gripped your waist hard, like he needed to anchor himself. Your fingers clawed his chest, his shoulders, dragging him closer by the back of his neck, needing more.

Needing everything.

His body pressed into yours with no space left between, large hands roaming all over your waist, your back, you ass. It wasn't slow, it wasn't sweet. It was tongues and fingers digging into skin. His rough beard scratching against your soft skin.

You pulled back just long enough to breathe, but he chased your mouth, biting at your bottom lip, not letting you go far.

"Fuck, I missed you," you muttered against his mouth, chest heaving. "Why didn't you say anything?"

He chuckled, raising his brow, his chest vibrating against yours. "Didn't want to interrupt the show."

Your face burned. You tried to hide in his chest, but he grabbed your chin so you wouldn't.

"You gonna tell me the rest of those lyrics?" he asked, looking down at you.

You just cursed lowly, because of course he heard all that.

In one smooth motion, he spun you around so your knees hit the bed and your was back pressed to his damp chest. His arm hooked across your shoulders, keeping you upright as his mouth dragged slow, wet kisses along the side of your neck.

"Don’t be shy … I liked that little song of yours," he mumbled against your skin. "But I think I misheard the best part honey ... you said you were what?"

Your breath hitched, you knew he heard you damn right the first time. And he knew you knew. His arm gripped your hip, guiding your ass to grind against him, and that's when you felt it. Felt him. The thick press of his bulge through the towel, hot and painfully hard, in a way that made you drool in anticipation.

"I said ... you were fucking what baby? What was it again?" he growled, pressing your hip harder when you didn't reply.

Your knees suddenly felt weak. God, you had missed him so much, even if he was about to fuck every single line out of you.

"So fucking h-horny," you blurted out the lyrics, dropping your head back to rest on his shoulder.

He hummed, satisfied, slipping a hand down your shirt until he reached the mess between your thighs.

"Jesus, baby..." he rasped, your body jolting when his fingers barely brushed the slick already pooling there. "You're soaking just from that? tsk tsk tsk.”

"You were gone for so long John," you whined, instinctively pushing back against him, "can you really blame me?"

He laughed, lowly, like you've just told him something absurd.

"You think you’re horny?" he groaned, shaking his head. "I've been jerking off like some goddamn teenager for weeks, and the worst part? I couldn't even finish honey … thinking how you should be the one wringing it out of me."

You bit your lip, whimpering at the image.

"You know how fucking hard that was?" he continued. "Sleeping in a cold bed, not even being able to hear your voice while I had my cock in my hand, trying not to cum 'cause I wanted it all to be yours. Wanted to fill you up the second I got back."

He loosened his grip on you only enough to let go of the towel covering his body. He dragged your shirt higher and then he pressed his bare cock against your ass.

"Feel that, baby?" he growled in your ear. "This is what I've been carrying ... just for you."

"Then give it to me," you begged, squirming in his hold. "John, please, it's been too long..."

"Oh, I will." He chuckled darkly. “But you gotta run that dirty mouth a little bit longer.”

You whined, this is exactly where he wanted you.

"Imagine the first thing I hear when I come back is that filthy little mouth of yours ... what was it you were singin' about? some freaky positions?"

Shit.

"Hold on to me."

Before you could even process it, his arms were under your thighs. You let out a squeal as he took you off the bed, carrying you to the wall. He turned you around midair, and without even a sign of discomfort, lifted your body up until your legs instinctively wrapped around his neck.

Your back hit the wall with a soft thud, and your breath caught in your throat as you realized what was happening.

He was standing, fully upright. Holding you high in the air with your legs hooked over his shoulders, his hands locked under your ass. His face aligned perfectly with your dripping pussy.

"John," you gasped, gripping his wet hair when you realized your head was close to the ceiling now. "What the fuck ..."

He looked up grinning like a devil.

"What?" he asked innocently, smug as hell. "Have you ever tried this one?"

You nervously laughed, shaking your head incredulously.

"Don't worry, baby," he winked, bunching the shirt around your waist, exposing you completely to his greedy eyes. "I got you."

You gasped when his mouth latched on your pussy like he'd been dying of thirst. Obscene sounds filled the room, from your wetness, from the mess he was painting all over his beard, from your pleads. His grip was unshakable, anchoring you in place while his mouth worked like he was trying to make up for every second he'd been gone.

Your chest began rising up and down quickly, one hand desperately tugging his hair while the other traveled up for some sort of leverage, slapping blindly at the ceiling above you as your body trembled.

"John ... fuck–yes," you panted, vision blurring from the intensity.

He groaned against your pussy, the vibration shooting up your spine. It was too much. The strength in his arms, the way he held you there without even faltering, while dragging his tongue through every slick inch of you.

It felt worshipful.

"You're doing it so good, baby," You praised, tugging his hair harder.

He hummed against your pussy, sucking your clit into his mouth in a way only he knew how to make you see stars, and then looked up at you with those unfair baby blue eyes.

You almost came at the sight of him under you, beard all soaked, looking at you like he was getting drunk from your taste alone.

It wasn't long until your whole body began shaking, legs trembling where they were draped over his shoulders, the heels of your feet digging into his back like it would somehow ground you. But nothing could.

You were so high up the wall, so completely suspended by him, only your back touching anything solid, that your vision started to white out.

"J-John I can't ... I'm gonna–“

"Yeah?" he grunted. "Go on then, sweetheart ... mark your territory."

His fingers dug deeper into your ass, holding you in place as he moaned against your cunt, the vibrations sent you crashing over the edge.

Your thighs clenched around his head, body trembling as you reached your high. He didn't stop, not when you came, not when your back arched off the wall, not even when you whimpered his name.

He kept eating, drinking down every twitch of your orgasm, tongue flicking your clit until your thighs shook violently and you tried to push him away.

Your hands ran all over his hair, desperate.

"Too much ... John, baby, please–"

That's when he finally pulled back.

You blinked a few times at him, your juices glistening on his lips, running down his bearded chin. He looked wrecked. His wet hair all wild, jaw flexing, chest rising and falling like he'd been the one coming.

You twitched one more time, and he grinned satisfied.

"You taste even better than I remembered." His voice was raspy, so fucking sexy.

You barely had time to recover before he lowered you just enough to cradle you in his arms, still against the wall, but now your legs wrapped around his waist, your arms locked behind his neck.

He was the one you kissed you this time, making sure you tasted every drop of yourself on his lips. You could feel his hard cock trapped between you, hot and slick, leaking against your stomach.

"Still singin' that song in your head, sweetheart?" he asked as soon as you came apart, in that devilishly teasing tone.

"Huh?" You blurted out, dizzy from the haze.

He shook his head amused, he was barely getting started with you.

He adjusted his grip on you, before taking you off the wall. Your arms tightened around his neck, eyes wide as he carried you through the room, toward the bed. He lowered you on the mattress, spreading your legs with his knees as he hovered over you.

He didn't have patience for you to be covered anymore, even if seeing you in his shirt drove him insane. But he just needed you naked when he came all over you. So he easily ripped his shirt off from you, throwing it somewhere in the room. His eyes dragged down your body, pausing at the mess between your thighs, at the way your chest heaved, at the way your eyes pleaded.

"You look like a fuckin' dream," he muttered, voice rough. This is all he'd been waiting for, all he’d been fantasizing about.

Before you could say anything, hell, before you could even breathe, he grabbed his cock in his hand, slapping the fat head of it against your soaked pussy.

Once. Twice. Again.

You jolt with each wet hit, little shocked gasps slipping from your lips as your sensitive clit twitched under the weight of his cock.

"Too much?" he asked, grinning as he slapped your folds again, harder this time. "You're twitching so pretty for me, sweetheart."

"John ... fuck–please," you whined, head rolling back on the mattress.

He just grinned, treating himself to a few more heavy wet slaps. You looked so pretty when you shivered, when you begged.

You gasped when you felt him pressing in your entrance with no warning. Head shooting up, eyes going wide just in time to see how he only pushed the tip in. Just that goddamn massive tip, splitting you open with a stretch that knocked the air right out of your lungs. You couldn’t help but throw your head back again.

"I know, baby," he groaned at the feeling of your pussy around him. "You're so tight and so full already … look at you, it's not even halfway in," he praised, breath coming short.

He didn't go deeper. Just pushed the head of his cock against your entrance, in and out. Driving you wild.

And my god, he was so vocal. The grunting, the low growling. The slow movement of his hips like he was holding himself back from slamming balls deep inside you. You knew he has.

You whimpered, clutching the sheets, your hips rolled up to chase more, deeper, but he pinned you down, his chest tensing as he held himself back with a growl.

"Just the tip for now, baby."

He wanted to take his time. Make you go as many rounds as he'd saved his cum for the time he was away. But when you clenched your pussy around the head of his cock, he almost almost bursted right there. He kept pressing in, just the swollen crown stretching you wide.

“God … John,” you whimper, grabbing the sheets. “I love the way you fit.”

“I know,” he hisses, eyes glued to where your bodies met. “Feels so fucking good like this.”

He didn’t thrust deep, just moved in short, devastating rolls of his hips that drove that thick tip over your sweetest spot again and again, attempting to drag another orgasm right back out of you.

“You gonna cum again, baby? tip’s too much for you already?”

That cockiness, that smug grin on his face, the way he keep pushing just a part of himself in that teasing pace, made you unravel, his name came out between gasps, body spasming with the pressure.

“Just like that baby, taking me so well, and I haven’t even fucked you properly yet.”

No he hadn’t, still made you see white as you rode your second high on the night. He groaned at the sight, feeling himself closer and closer.

"You want me to cum like this?" he gritted, hips grinding. "Been saving it, my sweet fucking cum ...all yours. You want it?"

You just nodded, eyes still seeing stars, breathless.

"Then sing it for me.”

Your brows furrowed. "W-What?"

"Sing the fuckin' lyric." He growled this time, leaning closer. "The part that got you all worked up. Let's hear it again sweetheart, just the good part"

Your cheeks flushed, brain fuzzing. "John—"

He slammed forward, just an inch deeper, but so hard it knocked a cry out of your throat. You swallowed hard, while he waited expectantly without moving, making you ache for the friction.

"...Adore me..." you mumbled, barely singing.

“Louder."

“Adore me... hold me... and explore me..."

You noticed the way he was becoming undone to your shaky voice, breathing caught in his throat as he began fucking you again his leaking tip, exploring your entire body with his hands. His eyes glistened with anticipation. He needed you to say it, he was so close.

"Go on, what’s next?” He growled between gritted teeth, hips dragging faster his tip in and out of your entrance, hands pinching your nipples.

"...Mark your territory..." you whispered, nearly choking on your words.

"Yeah," he breathed, voice feral. "That's the one."

He let out a guttural sound, hips slamming forward, his body locking up as he finally let himself spill into you, tip buried, grinding into your clenching pussy while his cum rushed out desperate, like it's been waiting to drip out of you.

"Fuck– ugh baby, fuck..."

You felt it before you even saw it. The first hot pulses inside you, so thick and warm. But he’d dreamed about you covered in him, so he pulled out, his cum leaking out behind him in thick drips as he poured the rest of himself on you. You felt it spill all over your body, one spurt. Then another. And another.

And another.

"Oh my –shit, baby," you gasped , eyes flying wide as he poured into you. "That's so much, John ... holy fuck–"

He kept going while he grunted, kept spilling, holding the base of his cock tight as he came all over you. Your clenching walls pushed what was left inside you out, dripping down your pussy, pooling on the sheets.

"Shit–can't stop," he panted, all flushed, watching with hooded eyes as his cum kept painting your body. "Fuck, look at you ... you're soaked."

You glanced down, and your jaw dropped.

It was everywhere. Your belly, your thighs, the curve of your hips. Sticky, thick white streaks all over your chest, a faint drop on your neck. And even more dripping out your pussy like he never pulled out.

And it had been just with the tip.

"John... it’s so much..." you panted, voice barely above a whisper.

"Told you I was saving it up, honey," he grinned, breathless yet still smug, proud ... asshole.

He leaned down, dragging two fingers through the mess on your belly, gathering a thick strand of it, and then smearing it right back onto your skin, lazier, messier, spreading it even more.

"You're not getting cleaned up," he mumbled, voice rough. "Not yet. I want you to feel it. I want you to lie here soaking in it."

You whimpered as his fingers trailed lower, collecting more where it was pooling between your thighs. He spread it around your folds, deliberately pushing it over your sensitive clit, and you jolted, hips twitching.

"Still twitchy," he smirked, loving the way you squirmed. "So damn pretty when you're sensitive."

Then he dragged his fingers back up and smeared more of it across your chest, rubbing his release into your skin like he wanted it to stay there.

His territory marked. Owned.

You were trying to catch your breath, your limbs heavy, skin flushed and sticky, brain barely holding onto thoughts.

But then, the weight of him moved over you again. His hand gripped your wet thigh hard, pushing it up and out. His cock, hard again, sliding right through the mess between your legs, thick and wet from your arousal and his white paint.

Your eyes flew open. "John ... just give me a minute–"

"It's okay baby, I got you."

He grabbed your limp body and flipped it over, chest against the mattress, ass low, while he crossed your arms behind your back so he could raise your back to him. His cock pressed against your ass, and you suddenly needed him more than before.

"Need you ... all of it … please"

This time he didn't say anything, he just thrusted. He buried himself deep, all the way this time, no more teasing with the tip. The sudden stretch made your whole body arch, back curling away from him but he tightened his grip on your arms, as a helpless cry ripped from your throat.

"Shit, you're so tight," he growled, voice rough with need.

He set a brutal rhythm instantly, hips snapping against your ass, the wet slap of skin on skin loud and filthy in the room. You were too sensitive, too full, too overstimulated, but you couldn't stop moaning. Your body could take it. Needed it.

One large hand gripped yours on your lower back, the other landing a smack in your ass as he fucked into you, panting, wild, relentless.

"You're so fucking perfect," he leaned down, teeth grazing your shoulder. "I'm gonna come inside this time. So deep you'll feel it for days."

Your mind was gone. Words were gone. You were just whimpering, relying on his grip to hold you up while he ruined you for the third time.

This is how he needed you. Overstimulated, a moaning mess, dragging orgasm after orgasm out of you. You clenched around his whole length this time, tighter, he looked down at you and smirked.

"Cum on my cock, baby. That's what it's for, all yours."

His deep voice sent you over the edge. Your walls fluttered around his cock, your back arched as you came again while he fucked you through it, clenching around him with a strangled cry. He slammed in deeper, his cock twitching for release.

"Take it, baby … so pretty how your take it."

He growled seeing you become undone again, losing his last thread of restraint.

"Oh fuck..."

"Come on John, I know you still have more for me.”

You felt it the moment he started to lose control, his rhythm stuttering, jaw almost snapping, breath hot and shaky against your skin.

"Gonna fill you up again," he growled, hips slamming into you one last time.

And then he crashed again, deep inside you, seed thick and hot, spilling into your pussy in those long, creamy strings. Your body jolted under him, back arching, but he didn't pull out this time.

He kept himself buried balls deep, cock twitching inside you, his hands tight still holding your arms behind your back.

"Jesus," he groaned, dazed. "You're fuckin' milking me."

You hummed, overstimulated and trembling, feeling every drop of him, filling you up until it began leaking back out.

A slow, thick stream of cum slipped out around his cock, trickling between your thighs, dripping down your leg as John just watched. Mesmerized. Smirking.

He let his grip on you go, gently letting your chest fall back on the mattress, cock still inside you. He looked down.

"Look at that," he mumbled. "Can't even hold it all." He pulled his cock back a little, just enough to make it spill faster. "Fucked you so full I can feel it spilling out of you."

You moaned, all weak, breathless. "Saved all that sweet cum just for me Johnny."

"It's all I thought about baby," he gritted, dragging his thumb to smear the mess around.

He finally pulled out, a gasp escaping your mouth when you felt all his love dripping out of you.

"Look how pretty you are when you're leaking my cum..."

You thought he would give you a minute this time. A little break to remember how to breathe again, when he helped you turn around so you laid your back on the bed, facing him now.

You could feel it against your leg, he was hardening again. Like your whole body wasn't already covered in all of him.

You felt the weight of his cock, thick, flushed, and heavy against your overstimulated pussy, you whimpered when he pressed the head back to your folds.

"John," you breathed, head rolling back. "You already ... fuck, you came so much baby."

"I know," he growled, pressing his forehead to yours. His breath was hot against your cheek. "I know. But look at me, baby."

He grabbed the base of his cock and rubbed the tip through the slick, tender mess between your legs, your whole body reacting. "Still fuckin' hard."

It wasn't his fault. The serum had enhanced everything. Every fucking thing. And he'd been gone, for too damn long.

You barely had time to recover. You were still twitching, body too sensitive, soaked and overstimulated. But your hands still reached to his back, to push him into you one more time.

"Greedy little thing." He chuckled, shaking his head. “Can’t even hold yourself up but you keep reaching for more.”

So he complied, slow at first, like he could still tease after all he’d done to you by now. His hips rolled forward, pushing his previous loads deeper. You gasped, legs trembling, nails digging into his back as you shook your head and whimpered, "John, I can't–"

"Yes, you can," he growled. "You're gonna take every drop. Again."

Then he snaps his hips forward, hard.

Your whole body bounces as he fucked it into you one more time, his cock slamming through the mess he already left inside, making it gush out in slick, tiny splashes with every thrust.

"Fuck, listen to that," he snarled, going feral at the obscene sounds. "So messy for me. You love this."

And the worst part? He was right.

Because even through the overstimulation, the ache, the stretch, you were clenching around him again, your body greedy, desperate, obeying every filthy command he made without question.

He was relentless. Gripping your hips, fucked into you like he was trying to imprint himself into your core, cock pounding the mess deeper while more of it leaked out down your ass and thighs.

"Still sensitive, sweetheart?" He was smug as sin, one hand spreading you open while the other pressed your lower belly. "You can take it … just a little more."

You didn’t take long to come again, nearly sobbing, legs shaking uncontrollably, and he groaned as you cried out his name, squeezing him tight.

He was there, almost there. But he wanted this one somewhere else.

He pulled out of your shaking pussy, and climbed over your body on the bed, straddling your chest as he guided his cock to your face.

"Open for me, sweetheart ... yeah that's it"

He shoved his cock in your mouth, and you gladly took it, all of it. In twitches it spilled down your throat. Salty, thick warmth overflowed your mouth as he grunted, coming all over your tongue.

You hit his thigh when you couldn't breathe anymore from how much it was, so he put a hand behind your neck to lift your head, and raised you to sit on the bed as he panted beside you, mesmerized by the view of you choking in it.

His hand ran comforting strokes down your back, as you tried to swallow as much as you could. Like you always did.

Like the good fucking girl you were for him.

"Look at you," he whistled in a growl. "Covered in me. Stuffed full of me. Choking on me … and I still see some untouched parts."

His thumb found your chin, smearing what had leaked out your mouth down your neck, and tilted your face toward his.

"How many times is that, baby?" he taunted, pushing the hair out of your sweaty face. "Two, three loads? … doesn't even matter, you always take ‘em all.”

You just whimpered to his praise, couldn't trust your voice when you still felt his warmth going down your throat.

You both go quiet.

The kind of quiet that only happened after John was finally satisfied with how many times you came on his cock, with the way you twitched from the sheer exhaustion, when you didn’t even know how to speak anymore.

He pressed kiss to your temple, his lips soft, lingering. The sharp edge of his voice from earlier was gone, replaced by a low raspy whisper as his fingers brushed over your spine.

“Hey… you still with me, baby?”

You nod weakly.

“That’s my girl,” he grinned. “You did so good for me. So damn good.”

As you regained your breath, he just held you for a moment with his hand on your back, and stared. At you. At the mess all over your body. At what he did.

At what you let him do.

“C’mere” He whispered, while he pulled you into his lap, and settled you down on his wet cock.

You moan out, body going limp and stuffed beyond reason as he held you there, not moving, just filling you up for the last time. You clung to him with the last bits of strength you had left, while he wiped the sweat and hair out of your face.

“Just sit here sweetheart, you’re okay” he breathed against your hair, rubbing soothing circles on your body. “Keep me warm while you recover baby, don’t spill another drop.”

He wrapped his arms around you, possessive, smug but with tenderness now, he kissed your shoulder like it was the softest thing in the world. He could feel the stickiness of your body on him, a sweet reminder that you were in fact, the only only only one for him.

“We’ll cleanup later, baby” He cooed and you just nodded weakly, placing a kiss on his pec.

He leaned slightly to see your face, to catch a glimpse of that blissed out, weak smile on your lips. He smiled adoringly, with that softness that only came after he wrecked you.

But then, without even a doubt, a harsh chuckle left his throat.

“Have I marked my territory enough?”

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