totallysharkycomplete

[totallysharkycomplete]

Next door - Bucky Barnes x Reader

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Word Count: 2.9k

Description: You thought you were being quiet when you touched yourself. It wasn’t Bucky’s fault he could hear everything from his bed next door every single time. And when you moan his name out loud, he’s done pretending he doesn’t hear.

Tags/Warnings: Smut. Menace Bucky is back on this one. Fem!reader. Bucky spying on her. Mutual masturbation. Oral f!rec.

Note: this is literally just Bucky being feral about a helpless doll next door, he just has to step in. Enjoy lovelies 🫶🏼 also I’m making a John Walker version of this.

Masterlist

It wasn't his fault. His room just happened to be next to yours, beds pressed against the same wall. A thick wall. But it wasn't his fault he had enhanced hearing, so he just couldn't help it. Couldn't help hearing the nights you gave yourself over to pleasure.

And fuck, he listened. Every single time.

He learned every sound you made. He could tell when you were already worked up, getting yourself off in just a few minutes. Other nights where you would drive yourself to the edge, again and again, dragging it out for hours.

Hours he spent with his cock in hand, back pressed to the headboard, leaning towards the wall so he wouldn't miss a single wet, filthy sound your fingers made.

And then other ones, rare, where you couldn't quite get there. Frustrated groans. The creak of the bed as you shifted restlessly. He could even picture the sweat dripping past your furrowed eyebrows, when your fingers just weren't enough.

Nights where he fought everything inside him, that feral instinct to tear the wall between you and show you how it feels to be fucked right.

Tonight was one of those nights.

He wasn't expecting anything, he never really did. He'd taken a hot shower, put on a pair of boxers and sat on his bed with a book in hand. His back rested on the headboard, legs crossed over his ankles. A warm, cozy light coming from the lamp on his nightstand illuminated his room. The place was quiet, the only sounds disrupting the silence were his fingers flipping over the pages as he read, and the occasional chuckle the story provoked.

But then he caught it.

A faint, almost inaudible whimper slipped from your mouth on the other side of the wall. He froze in place, just like he always did, like it was somehow still a surprise. Like he didn't expect to hear you again. Like he knew it was wrong to listen. To want to listen.

But he did. Every damn time.

He snapped the book shut in his hands, dropped it over his lap, and instinctively leaned closer to the wall, to your side of the bed. He listened, focused hard, until he could finally hear that familiar sound of slick fingers sliding in a desperate rhythm. A breath got caught up in his throat, when you moaned, and blood rushed to his crotch.

He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling himself harden against the hardback cover of the book he had completely forgotten about. He sighed deeply, shoving it aside, and reached to switch off the lamp on his nightstand.

He knew what came next, what he was about to do. He knew it was wrong, dirty. But somehow, being swallowed in complete darkness made it easier to pretend it wasn't.

Like if he couldn't see himself, then maybe he didn't have to feel guilty.

His hand slipped into his boxers, gripping his swollen, painfully hard cock. He pulled it out and immediately started stroking at a fast pace, no buildup, no teasing this time. Just tight, large punishing pumps of his fist to the sounds that came out your mouth. His head dropped back to the wall, eyes closed to block out everything but you.

To try to feel you.

He swore he could even smell you, the arousal, the wetness between your thighs, the sex emanating from your skin as you fucked yourself with your fingers like there was no one else to do it for you. Like he wasn't next to your room, stroking his cock to your whimpers like a fucking pervert.

Like he wasn't willing to split you open if you just said the word.

So he just kept stroking, up and down, cause it was the only damn thing he could do when you were unknowingly putting on a show for him.

But after a while passed, he noticed you just went on and on, but it wasn't edging. Not this time. It didn't bother him, he knew he could go for hours if he wanted to, but you? He knew you weren't getting there.

He knew those frustrated sighs escaping your mouth, when you paused because your fingers were probably cramping from pumping in and out without getting anywhere. That soft thump against your mattress when you hit the bed desperate.

It wasn't fair, he thought, you deserved to see white, to come so unbelievably hard that you screamed without a single care if the entire team heard.

He heard you stop, chest probably rising up and down, panting, as a groan escaped your lips. He stopped too, dick resting on his palm as he waited for your next move.

"Come on ... please" You mumbled to yourself, words muffled by the wall separating him from completely ruining you.

Every fucking part of his body twitched to that plea. Fuck. You were lonely, you needed someone.

You needed someone to fuck you right.

He takes a deep breath, restraining himself with whatever is left of his will, whimpers invading your room as you began moving your fingers once again. He restarts with you, harder, sloppier this time, like he's frustrated too because if you're not coming neither is he.

And then, in the middle of the moans, he hears something else, it's not just incoherent sounds, you're whimpering someone's name.

"B-b ... Bucky"

Shit. Holy fucking shit. His name? he couldn't have heard that right.

He stopped stroking himself, body rising up from his seating position to kneel on the bed, left ear to the wall, hands on either side of his head. He held his breath, closing his eyes, part of him wishing he misheard you, the other part craving to be right.

He heard more moans, but in between, there was something else. Slurred B's. He was sure.

"B-buck ... Bucky please just like that baby"

Shit. You were fantasizing about him. Out loud. About his head between your legs, about his tounge eating you out while his fingers wrecked you.

You wanted him. You needed him.

His legs moved before he could think with his brain instead of the cock he shoved back into his boxers. He took long strides to his door, metal hand messing with his hair like that would do something to take away the heat on his face or bring his heart rate back to normal.

Suddenly he was out of his room, in front of yours, chest heaving like a lunatic in heat. He shook his head, it was too late to back away now, so fuck it, might as well try it. His hand knocked against the door, instantly making you stop your little session.

You sat on the bed all flustered, quickly wiping your hand on a small towel you had tossed to the mattress in case you made a mess of yourself. Which quite frankly you were doing, before someone decided to interrupt your sacred self love time.

Who the hell is knocking on your door and what the hell do they want right now?

You let out an exasperated sigh, finally getting up from the bed, the oversized shirt on your body falling down to cover the drench between your legs. You threw the towel to a hamper, taking a deep breath before reaching for the doorknob.

A gasp caught in your throat the second you opened the door. There he was. The man whose name rolled out your tongue so painfully easily.

Bucky.

Standing right there, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and his dog tags on his chest. Jaw locked, face visibly on edge. His hair was a mess, the front strands sticking to a sheen of sweat on his forehead. His eyes were dark, exactly how they looked in your little fantasy just minutes ago.

Shit. He didn't know, he couldn't know. Right?

Bucky was having his own fight inside his head. When he saw you open the door, pupils dilated, your rapid heart rate thumping on his ears, all agitated and ... kind of glowing. Glowing in that arousal I'm-fucking-myself sheen. He had to fight every urge in his body that told him to wrap his hand around your neck and pin you to the ground to make you scream in the hallway, so everybody in that floor knew what name you were pleading to in your room.

"B-Bucky?" You blurted out, eyes darting around nervously.

He almost laughed at that. Why were you so shy now when you were praying his name just minutes ago?

"Are you okay? Is it a nightmare?" You shifted your tone, eyebrows furrowing. Figured that must be the reason of his unsettled expression.

He did let a chuckle out then, shaking his head as he slowly pushed himself into your room, closing the door behind him, backing you up like he was cornering a prey.

"I guess you could say I was having a nightmare, doll" He growled, voice deeper than you've ever heard before. "One where you desperately called out my name, all helpless and needy, and I wasn't here to help you"

Your legs threatened to buckle when you realized what he meant. He'd heard you moaning his name, like a freak.

You'd fantasized about him before, you did it every single time your fingers traveled down to your thighs, but his name had never left your lips then. However, this time, you were so frustrated, so swollen from teasing, rubbing, pushing and not getting anywhere, that his name just rolled out your tongue like a plea, like a call for help.

The back of your legs hit your bed, making you stumble, but his arms were quick to catch you. Your hands hit his bare chest for support, grazing the dangling metal tags, looking up at him with wide eyes and a hint of embarrassment washing your features.

The huge bulge pressing against your stomach didn't help either, too warm and solid to ignore.

He lifted his metal hand to cradle your face, you instinctively leaned into his cold touch closing your eyes, almost purring. He took a deep breath, this wasn't about him, this was all about you. He planted a kiss on your forehead, making you open your eyes at the gesture.

"You don't have to be ashamed angel, not when you were calling my name so sweetly" He said, too softly, like he wasn't about to ruin your life. "And I think it would be real fucking rude if I didn't give you what you were begging for"

You bit your lip, his chest was fire against yours even through your shirt, the cold vibranium hand in your cheek was keeping you grounded, but you weren't sure how long your composure would last under his touch.

"Are you gonna let me make it better for you, doll?" He asked, in mock sweetness.

Cause he already knew the answer, he'd already decided you weren't going to sleep until your legs were shaking.

You nodded, desperately, you were too flustered from the haze, too frustrated with all the bottled up tension in your body. You barely had time to blink before he pushed you onto the bed, flat on your back, sinking to his knees in front of yours. He bunched up the shirt up to your waist, big hands dragging your thighs apart, the cool air hitting your wet skin made you gasp.

"Shh, I know angel" Bucky mumbled against your skin. "Let me take care of you"

His hot breath ghosted its way up your legs, trailing wet kisses that made it hard to maintain eye contact with him, when your head threatened to fall back in pure bliss. He slowly went higher, like he was not only teasing you, but himself.

Something inside him went feral the moment he finally caught the sight of your glistening pussy. Something he had pictured before, all those lonely nights in his room.

"Fuck me... look at you doll" he groaned, spreading your legs even wider, his firm grip pressed the soft flesh of your thighs. "You thinking about my mouth on this pretty little pussy? That what got you dripping all over yourself?"

You nod shakily, hips twitching when he leaned in, hot breath grazing your soaked folds.

"I just, I-I couldn't..." You tried to explain, but he was already shaking his head.

"I know, doll" He cut you off, placing a quick, teasing kiss on your clit, making you whimper. "I heard you, I know every single sound you make. When you're close, when you don't want to let yourself go, when your fingers don't cut it anymore"

Your back arched, trying to grind up against his lips again, beard tickling your skin, but his metal arm wrapped around your thigh and held your hips flat to the mattress.

"Nuh uh, stay still for me dollface" he warned. "You move again and I stop. You hear me?"

You nodded rapidly, chest heaving with anticipation. You were becoming undone and he hadn't even started yet.

"Good girl" He praised, placing another kiss in your bare pussy, this time letting it linger for a few seconds.

He draws back satisfied when he hears your moan, and licks his lips to let the taste of you sink into his mouth.

"Now, good girls aren't supposed to play with themselves like that. So fucking messy with no one to help them" He shook his head, with a devilish grin. "Not when a man willing to break them is next door"

"B-bucky ... please" You begged, this was taking too long, you were dripping over the sheets.

He grinned wider, now this is the way you were moaning his name earlier.

That was all he needed.

You lose it the second his mouth touched you. It was so warm, greedy all over you, groaning into your skin like he was the one getting off from it.

"Sweetest fucking thing I've ever tasted, angel" he mumbled, lips dragging up to your clit, sucking it into his mouth until you cried out. "How the fuck did I go this long without it? Without kicking that door and showing you what is like to be pleased properly"

Your hips lifted involuntarily at his words, thighs shaking, but he wasn't having it. His vibranium arm pinned you in place, cold palm heavy on your lower belly, sending you into overdrive. "I said hold still" he growled, before diving right back in.

He was sure he could bust into his boxers just from hearing you become undone under him. This time there was no wall muffling your sounds, your scent, your wetness. This time he had you moaning so loud under his touch, he was sure no one in that floor needed enhanced hearing to know what was happening in your room.

"Bucky...f-fuck, I can't" You cried, unable to control your feet kicking next to his head, but every time your hips jerked he just grunted and pressed down harder.

"Yeah you can" He growled. He let you go briefly to hook your legs over his shoulders and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed until your pussy was even deeper into his face. "Gonna hold you down and make you take it, doll"

Your back arched, trying to escape the overwhelming pressure of his mouth, but he just tightened his grip and kept going. Bucky's tongue worked heavenly over your clit, and when you thought it couldn't get any better, he slipped two fingers inside, curling just right, like he memorized every sound you made through the wall and translated it into his hand.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling tight, and he moaned at every tug, while he kept fingering, licking, sucking, groaning into you like he needed every drop of your pleasure. Like he was fucking addicted.

"C'mon, angel" he whispered, agitated breaths hot against you. "Let me hear it, let me hear what it sounds like when I make you come"

"B-bucky" His name was the only thing you blurted out, body trembling, ragged breathing.

"Come on my tongue, doll" He begged, too drunk in your sweet taste. "Soak my fucking face. Show me who this pussy belongs to"

That was all you needed to let yourself go. Your vision blurred as your orgasm hit, ripping through you so hard you pushed his hands and head away but he kept you pinned, kept licking through it, like he wasn't done until you were sobbing. He only stopped when your legs were shaking uncontrollably, pussy clenching his fingers, and your breath came in broken gasps, eyes lost on the ceiling.

That drove him to the edge too.

He wiped his beard with his right arm, before yanking his boxers down, cock springing free, thick, leaking, heavy in his hand as he wrapped his fingers around it.

"You did this, angel. Look at me" He leaned over your body, his metal hand reached behind your neck, lifting it slightly. "Look what just tasting you does to me"

You were still dazed, eyes blinking to focus yourself on him.

He didn't even need his hand to come, so he used it to hold himself above you. He straddled your shaking body, placing his cock over your stomach with a wet slap, sliding against your soft skin while you were too wrecked to move, just whimpering again and again under him. He grabbed your hand and put it over his cock, to push himself deeper into your skin.

"That's it, dollface, just lay there and take it. Let me use this sweet body to finish" He grunted, hips jerking forward, desperately seeking for that release he'd sought after in his room.

You were breathless, overwhelmed by the weight of his cock on your stomach and it’s width under your hand, while he panted like you were the only thing that could save him.

After a few more pumps, he finally came hard with a groan.  Thick, hot white landed on your stomach in long, messy streaks. The first spurt made you flinch, the second had him cursing under his breath, hips jerking uncontrollably as he emptied himself on you. His chest heaved as he watched it drip down your skin, and a proud look flashed across his face like he just marked what was his.

The warm fluid felt almost comforting, running down the side of your leg as you still twitched every now and then, trying to remember how to breathe again. 

Bucky falls onto the bed beside you, panting, with that painfully arrogant smile like he didn't just come from rubbing himself to you.

“Next time …” He whispered low in your ear, wrapping his arms around you. “I’m not stopping until it’s dripping out of every hole you have”

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

[totallysharkycomplete]

[totallysharkycomplete]

many many birthdays apart and a million more together

[totallysharkycomplete]

I present to you— Itty Bitty Grunkles! They're one jellybean tall.

[totallysharkycomplete]

Today I offer Stanford Pines LPS edition,, the next day??? Uhh idk man

[totallysharkycomplete]

knife's edge.

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Summary: Heels on. Nothing else. You only meant to try them on—until Bucky saw your reflection in the mirror. Now he’s on his knees, leaking, begging, and discovering a kink he never knew he needed.

Disclaimer: 18+ (mdni!), explicit smut content, stiletto kink, cock worship (m receiving), edging, orgasm denial, ruined orgasm, praise/degradation mix, soft dom!reader, sub!bucky, kink discovery, begging

Author's Note: Just trying something new based on umm an old quote from the man himself (Sebastian).

You’d only meant to try them on.

The heels—sleek, obsidian black stilettos—had been tossed carelessly by your dresser, still in the box Yelena had left with a wink.

“You’re gonna need these at that gala. Something that says: I might stab you, and I’ll look damn good doing it.”

Now, fresh from your shower, skin still warm and dewy, you slipped into them—nothing on but a towel draped over your hair, drying off the ends. The hard click of the heel echoed sharply as you stepped across the hardwood floor of your walk-in, then paused to study your reflection in the full-length mirror.

The shoes made your legs look longer. Firmer. Every shift of your weight made your muscles flex just right—like danger incarnate wrapped in nothing but bare skin and sleek edges. You turned slightly, admiring the clean line of your thigh from the back, the curve of your ass lifted just right by the height of the heels.

You took a few steps—slow and experimental—toward the mirror. Click. Click. A small smile played on your lips. Powerful. That’s how they made you feel.

You didn’t realize you weren’t alone.

Bucky had been standing just past the doorway—towel slung low around his hips, hair damp, chest still glistening from the aborted mission to shower. But now he was behind you, watching silently.

In the mirror, you saw him—towering behind you like some kind of storm barely held back. His jaw was tight. His cock already twitching beneath the towel.

“Jesus,” he muttered, voice low and wrecked.

You startled slightly, catching his reflection. “Buck?”

“I—” he dragged a hand down his face. “Don’t move.”

You arched a brow, amused. “Why?”

“Because I can’t stop staring. You—fuck, sweetheart…” His eyes raked your reflection, wide and hungry. “You look like a fucking vision. I can’t—your legs. Tight. Flexed. Those fucking heels…”

You shifted again, subtle, letting the pose change slightly. “It’s just heels.”

“You’re naked in heels,” he rasped, stepping forward like gravity reeled him in. “Clicking around like it’s nothing. And you didn’t even know I was here. That’s fucking criminal.”

He stopped just behind you—close enough that you could feel the heat of him, his towel brushing your skin. You met his gaze in the mirror as he stared over your shoulder, utterly entranced.

“I was testing them out.”

“Yeah?” His voice dipped again. “I’m testing my fucking limits.”

Still, he didn’t touch. His breath ghosted across your neck as he whispered, “You look like you could slit throats and make a man thank you for it.”

You chuckled, soft and sultry. “That’s a compliment?”

“Sweetheart, that’s a confession.”

Then his hands finally found your hips. He pressed himself to your back, hard and hot, his cock fully erect beneath the thin towel. His mouth brushed your ear.

“You ever see yourself like this?” he murmured. “Legs flexed. Shoulders bare. Looking at me in the mirror like that?”

“I see you too,” you whispered, shifting your weight just slightly so your heel lifted. “And I see what this is doing to you.”

Bucky groaned, the sound dark and low in his throat. His grip tightened, and then—slowly—he turned you in his hands. Gently, reverently. Until you were facing him.

His eyes were glazed, jaw tight, towel strained over how badly he wanted you.

Then, with one hand, he reached down and curled his fingers behind your knee.

“Lift it,” he said, voice a raw rasp.

You obeyed, placing your hand on his shoulder for balance as you raised your leg.

He caught it easily—guided your stiletto up onto his thigh, right against the heat of him.

And just like that… you understood.

You shifted your angle slightly, just enough to let the sharp point of your heel drag slowly across the inside of his thigh. He gasped.

You did it again. Slower this time. Closer.

He bit his bottom lip, eyes fluttering half-shut.

“Think I just found a new kink,” he groaned. “You, wearing those heels. Me just… watching you use ‘em like this.”

“You’d let me tease you like this?” you asked, voice teasing, hungry. “Keep you hard with just my heels and no hands?”

His hips jerked forward instinctively.

“You’d do that to me?”

You smiled, head tilting slightly. “I’d make you beg, Bucky. Tell you how pretty you look, all desperate. Maybe even let you rut up against my foot a little. But only if you ask nicely.”

“Fuck.” His voice cracked. “You could ruin me.”

You stepped in closer, both hands pressing gently to his chest now.

“Then let me.”

And with one slow, confident push, you backed him until his shoulders met the cool surface of the mirror behind him—still watching, still reflected.

Bucky exhaled a shaky breath, letting his towel fall.

And you dropped to your knees.

You were just getting started.

—

You looked up at him, cock flushed and twitching in front of you, chest rising and falling like he was holding on by a thread.

“Say please,” you murmured, fingers gliding up his thigh as you leaned in.

Bucky moaned—low and wrecked—his head falling back to thump softly against the mirror.

“Please. Just—baby, please.”

You didn’t give him what he wanted. Not yet.

Instead, you reached down and pressed your heel between his thighs again—light, teasing, right to that sensitive spot that made him jolt.

“The gala might have to wait.”

His breath stuttered hard, hands twitching at his sides. His hips rolled instinctively toward you, seeking contact—anything—but you just leaned back slightly, keeping your eyes on his.

“God,” he whispered, voice frayed. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You smiled sweetly and slid your palm up his length in a slow stroke—then let go completely.

“Not until I’m done with you.”

“You’re so hard,” you whispered. “And I’ve barely done anything to you.”

You watched him—so big, so ready to fall apart for you—and felt a flicker of nerves beneath the thrill. You weren’t used to this. Not like this. But the way he looked at you?

Like you hung the moon.

You straightened your shoulders slightly. Let the confidence follow your voice.

Instead, you slowly stepped back, out of his hold. The sharp click of your stilettos on the hardwood made him visibly flinch, like even the sound of them had power over him now.

“Down,” you said softly, letting the word hang in the air like smoke.

You weren’t sure what you expected. But the way he froze—chest rising, mouth parted—told you everything.

He wanted this. Wanted you like this.

His brows drew together—hesitant, breathless.

“Kneel for me, James.”

You didn’t say it again.

You didn’t need to.

He sank slowly, towel loosening around his hips as he dropped to his knees in front of you. You stood tall above him, completely bare but for the heels and the towel draped across your damp hair. One step forward, and he was level with your thighs—your heat, your scent—everything.

“Look at you,” you murmured, tilting his chin up with your fingers. “Big, dangerous super soldier, and yet you’re right here. On your knees. Just ‘cause I told you to.”

His eyes were wide, lips parted. You watched his cock twitch again, hard and leaking against his stomach.

You shifted your weight, lifting one leg slowly and placing the pointed tip of your heel right between his thighs. Just beneath his balls.

“God—” he gasped, hands twitching on his thighs, unsure where to place them. “You’re gonna fucking destroy me.”

You didn’t answer.

You dragged the heel up lightly—slow, deliberate—over the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. His breath hitched. The sharp press made the muscles in his thighs jump, like his body couldn’t decide if it wanted more or to pull away.

“You like this?” you whispered, eyes locked on his.

He whimpered. Whimpered.

You did it again—just a graze, the tip of your heel trailing up to the crease of his hip before you slid it back down. His cock twitched again, leaking now, desperate.

“Your cock’s such a slut for me,” you said, voice dipped low and cruel-sweet.

You didn’t even know you had that tone in you. But the way he whimpered—his thighs trembling, breath stalling—it did something to you.

He squeezed his eyes shut, chest heaving. “Please—”

“Aw, baby,” you cooed, tilting your heel just enough to press into the tender flesh inside his thigh. “Didn’t know you liked being teased like this. Thought you were the one who liked calling the shots.”

His throat bobbed, lips trembling with restraint. “I didn’t know I’d like you like this.”

Your smile was pure wicked delight. “Poor thing.”

You grazed the heel up again—closer this time, letting the tip ghost along the underside of his cock. Just a whisper of contact.

His whole body jerked. A cracked, broken moan slipped from his lips.

“Needy little thing,” you muttered, stepping closer, letting your calf brush his shoulder. “You wanna come already, don’t you?”

He nodded—frantic, wrecked.

You stood tall behind him, watching the muscles of his back flex as he breathed hard, towel barely hanging on. He was beautiful like this. Obedient. Thighs tense. Cock flushed, twitching, untouched.

But your confidence flickered—just for a moment. Your power felt so sharp, so new.

Your voice softened. “Bucky…”

He turned slightly to glance at you over his shoulder. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

You swallowed, heel tapping lightly against the floor behind him.

You didn’t mean to sound unsure, but it slipped out anyway.

“What… what do I do next? If I wanted to really ruin you?”

His eyes nearly rolled back at that. “Fuck,” he groaned. “You say shit like that and I’m close already.”

That response? That gave you permission to keep going.

You stepped in front of him again, brow furrowed, lips parted with the weight of wanting. “Tell me.”

Bucky’s breath hitched. He sat back on his heels, looking up at you like worship. “Start slow. Use your hands. Don’t let me finish.”

You blinked. “That’s mean.”

He smiled weakly. “Exactly.”

You knelt—carefully, heels still on—sitting with your thighs spread just enough for him to see how wet you were already. His gaze dropped instantly, groaning again.

“You want me to just… touch you?” you asked, hand reaching out toward his flushed, aching cock.

“Please,” he whispered, desperate. “Just not enough. Just enough to make me lose my fucking mind.”

You wrapped your fingers around him gently—slow, reverent. His hips bucked, and he hissed through his teeth.

“God,” you whispered. “You’re so hard…”

You stroked him slowly, deliberately, eyes wide and focused on the way he twitched in your grip. His cock pulsed with every pass of your hand, leaking at the tip. He moaned low, broken, head falling back.

“You look so pretty like this,” you murmured, voice growing steadier as you watched him unravel. “On your knees, begging.”

“Don’t stop,” he groaned.

But you slowed. Thumb grazing under the head, teasing the slit. He cried out softly, hips jerking again.

“Sweetheart, please—don’t play fair. Ruin me.”

You leaned forward and dragged your tongue slowly up the underside of his cock—one long, deliberate stroke, just to taste him.

Bucky choked on a moan. “Fuck, fuck, do that again—”

You licked again, kittenish and slow, then placed a kiss to the flushed head. He whimpered.

Then stopped.

“Wait—baby—” His voice cracked. “Don’t… don’t let me come. Not yet. Please—keep me there. Just right there.”

You pulled back instantly, lips slick, eyes wide. “Like… this?”

You stroked him again, faster now—then stopped just as he started to pant.

He looked wrecked. Eyes glassy. Lips swollen from biting them. Chest heaving.

“Yes. Just like that,” he gasped. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“Think I like seeing you like this,” you murmured, brushing your heel against his thigh again. “Whimpering. Barely holding on.”

His cock jerked helplessly. “I can’t—baby, I can’t take it—”

You leaned in, whispering at his ear, stroking him again just to the edge. “No coming, Bucky. Not until I say.”

He nodded helplessly. “Yes. Yes, ma’am.”

Your breath hitched. You felt that.

He was shaking now. Begging under his breath. You watched every muscle in his body tense and tremble—every pulse of his cock in your hand.

And still, you denied him.

“You wanna come so bad,” you whispered. “But I’m not done watching you beg.”

He looked up at you—face flushed, jaw slack, eyes half-lidded.

“Please,” he breathed. “Tell me what you want. I’ll do anything.”

You stroked him once more—firm and slow—then let go completely.

His hips twitched. A full-body jolt. His breath hitched on a raw, cracked moan.

You tilted your head. “You’re leaking again.”

He looked down, eyes wide with humiliation—because yeah, he was. The flushed head of his cock was glistening, dripping onto his own thigh like his body couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“I haven’t even touched you in a minute,” you whispered, awe curling around your voice. “You’re just leaking for me.”

His chest heaved. “I—I can’t help it—”

“Oh, I know you can’t.” You leaned in close, lips brushing his ear. “Look at you. All this from me in heels and a few soft strokes? That’s all it took to get you like this?”

He whimpered. Fucking whimpered. Shoulders hunched like the shame turned him on even more.

“I didn’t know you could get this pathetic,” you whispered, trailing a fingertip up the underside of his cock—barely touching. “But I like it.”

He gasped.

You watched in real time as another thick bead of precum dripped down his length—unprompted, untouched. His thighs were trembling now, muscles strained from trying to hold back the orgasm clawing its way up his spine.

“I feel like I’m gonna come,” he groaned, broken and frantic.

You leaned back, watching every desperate twitch. “You’re not allowed.”

“I know,” he choked. “I know, I know—but baby, please—”

His whole body was shaking. Cock flushed, painfully red at the tip. He was grinding the air just barely, involuntarily chasing friction he knew he wasn’t allowed to have.

Then you saw it—another thick drip of precum pulsing from him. His voice was wrecked now, barely intelligible.

“I’m gonna—fuck, I’m leaking—I can’t stop—baby, I can’t—”

His head dropped forward, resting between your thighs as he moaned—low and hoarse. He was panting like a man being edged at gunpoint—back arched, cock jerking helplessly, tip leaving wet trails across his own abdomen.

You didn’t let him come.

You just held his face, gently, fingertips brushing his stubble as he trembled between your legs.

“You’re so good for me,” you whispered. “Look at you. You haven’t even come, and you’re already falling apart.”

His hands clutched at your thighs like a lifeline.

“Say it,” you murmured, thumb brushing his cheekbone.

He looked up at you, red-faced, eyes glossy.

“I’m yours,” he breathed. “Fuck—I’m yours. Ruin me however you want.”

You smiled.

You didn’t expect to love this—holding him like this, guiding his pleasure like it belonged to you.

But you did.

“Good.”

Your thumb brushed along his jaw as he panted, face still buried against your thigh, cock pulsing and flushed, still leaking.

“Hey,” you whispered softly, voice different now—lower, steady. “You’ve been so good.”

Bucky whimpered.

You tipped his face up gently. “You wanna come, baby?”

His eyes fluttered open—wet and desperate, like he didn’t believe you yet.

“Yeah?” you asked again, more tender now. “You want me to let you?”

His lips parted. “Please. Please, sweetheart—I need it. I need to come so bad, it hurts.”

You kissed his forehead.

“Then do it,” you whispered. “Come for me.”

He didn’t even need to touch himself.

Just your voice—just that permission—was enough.

He groaned, head falling forward again as his hips jerked once, then twice, and—

“Fuck—fuck—I’m coming—”

Thick pulses of hot cum spilled across his belly, each wave shaking his thighs. His whole body shuddered from it, like the dam had snapped wide open and he couldn’t stop if he tried. You held his jaw, watched him fall apart so sweetly—muttering your name under his breath like it was the only thing he remembered how to say.

And when it was over—when the last twitch left his muscles and he sagged against you, boneless, breathing hard—you whispered,

“You okay?”

His breath hitched with something like a laugh. He leaned his head against your chest, still catching up.

“I think I just found religion.”

You smiled, threading your fingers through his damp hair. “You liked that.”

“I loved that,” he whispered, still dazed. “Didn’t know I needed it—being owned like that. You… making me hold back, making me ask for it?”

He looked up at you, cheeks flushed and glowing, a little awestruck.

“Felt like I gave you everything,” he said. “And you took care of it.”

You kissed him again, softer this time. “I did.”

And he let out a breath like a man reborn.

[totallysharkycomplete]

Thunderbolts* Boys + Cockwarming

Reader is also a member of the Thunderbolts* (ft. Bucky Barnes, John Walker, Bob Reynolds, and Alexei Shostakov)

CW: Thunderbolts* spoilers, fingering, bathing together, kinda thigh fucking, hurt/comfort, dry humping,

a/n: my first time writing for most these guys! really excited to dip my toes in the waters of more characters

Help Me Move?

~~~

Bucky Barnes

Far too fancy suit jacket sat upon his shoulders. Hair slicked back and tie too tight against his throat. Dress shoes bruising the bottoms of his feet.

Another meeting. Congressman Barnes must attend. It was his duty. As if he had not given enough of himself to the government. Or how he still fought day in and day out to protect the city from the next big threat with the New Avengers. Too busy for an old man to be. Even if he was a super soldier.

Bucky swore he never got tired, but you knew better. Knew the side of him that would come home with his shoulders hanging low. Scruff thicker than normal from where he had no time to trim it. Bloody and bruised. Far different from the version of him that stood before you now.

It was late. But you always stayed up to see him. You sat on one of the many couches in one of the many rooms in the new and improved tower. A space intended to relax. Something none of you could spare time to do. Save for moments like this. Where you had finished your own mission and were able to just sit for a moment. Pretending like you had not gotten home only an hour ago. Barely out of the shower. In some comfortable clothing.

Put together Congressman Barnes stood across the room. Case clutched at his side. Knuckles white from the strength he used. It must have went poorly.

You greeted him with a smile. Trying to lighten the mood. Knowing he was not prepared for chitchatting. Mind still filled with the days worth of government jargon. His brows sat heavy upon his eyes. Mouth downturned in a frown. Seriousness leading his demeanor.

Bucky walked over to you, throwing his case absentmindedly into a chair beside where you sat. Shimming his jacket off his shoulders. Plopping down onto the couch beside you. His weight sinking you further into the cushion. Forehead falling against your shoulder. Silently taking in your warmth and scent. Fresh out the shower, he could tell. Wishing he could have joined you.

Your hand petted through his hair. Sticky gel catching against your fingers. His eyes rested closed, breathing loudly through his nose. His hand rested on your exposed thigh. Shorts leaving little covered.

His metal arm wrapped around your back, guiding you onto his lap. Hands now on your hips as he looked up at you. You rested your hands on the fronts of his shoulders. Staring into his hooded icy eyes. His looking between your lips and eyes. Pressing forward to kiss you longingly. Missing your taste throughout the long day.

“Missed you real bad,” he mumbled between kisses.

“I missed you too,” you whispered with a smile. You cupped his face in tender palms. Continuing to press your lips together. His stale cologne filled your senses. Mixing in with the musk of hair gel.

His hand began rubbing circles into your skin. Daring to push his tongue past your lips to taste you better. Fingertips finding their way under the fabric of your shorts.

Removing his hand from you to fumble with the buckle of his belt. Ripping it off his waist and throwing it in the floor. Quickly arching upward so he could pull his pants and boxers down his legs. Cock freed from the confides.

You blushed at the sight. Tip swollen and a bead of cum already at the slit. Feverishly red with his want.

His fingers pushed your shorts to the side. Exposing your slick core. Eyebrows bouncing momentarily at the reveal. Corner of his mouth upturning as he looked up at you. Your face beautifully flushed. Accented by the pale light of the room. Eyes blow with want. You were his girl.

Bucky ran a finger agonizingly slow up your slit. Collecting your juices on his digit. Pushing it into you. Your body rutted forward, hands grasping onto his shoulders for dear life. Moaning delightfully soft in his ear.

“Can I put it in?” Bucky asked politely. Kissing the side of your head with his question. Not being able to wait any longer. He needed relief. Found within you.

“Bucky. What if someone comes in—“

“They won’t,” he said sternly, “I just… need it.” Losing the strong exterior for a moment. Coming out of his shell. You were one of the few he could lower his guard around. Allowing himself to feel human with you.

You nodded. Trusting his judgement. Pushing yourself up on your knees so that he could line himself up. Grasping at his base as he slowly guided you down onto him. Sinking until your hips were flush together. Bucky groaned for a moment. Wide eyes looked into yours, brows knitting softly. A little crease forming between them.

He filled you entirely. Stretching you out and brushing your cervix. Not moving, just allowing the closeness to speak for itself.

You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around his back. Resting your head against his chest, nuzzled under his chin. The steady strum of his heartbeat soothed you. Your eyes fell closed. Balancing out your breathing to match his.

His arms held you close against him. Palms flattened along your back. Fingertips digging into your flesh.

It all helped him relax after such a long day. Locked together with his lover. Quietly savoring your touch. Knowing no one would disturb you. Not right now.

~~~

John Walker

The sound of your door sliding open woke you up.

Sitting up and seeing the familiar silhouette of the former Captain America. Backlit from the low lights of the hallway. His shoulders slumped, figure leaning against the doorframe. Pain clear from the way he carried himself.

His mission had been draining. Sent out on his own after everyone refused to join him. Being stretched too thin with assignments.

His muscles ached. Barely holding his head up as he breathed heavily in the doorway. Suit still adorning his body. Blonde locks disheveled and sticking to his sweaty forehead. A hint of shake in his hands. Obvious he had worked himself too hard.

You threw your blanket to the side, joining him at the doorway. Your hands cradled his bearded face. His eyes fell shut at the relief. Now you could fully see him. Little cuts and bruises decorated his face. Dried blood along his suit and neck. Thumb outlining the razor thin cuts, some still bleeding.

It broke your heart to see him this way.

Silently, you interlocked fingers with him. Not an ounce of fight left in him. Leading him into your bathroom where you started the shower. John was barely able to keep his eyes opened. Defeated and finally being able to let his guard down.

Your hands flattened along his chest. His heartbeat rapid against your touch. Breathing deeply with a locked jaw. Wordlessly, you encouraged him to turn around. Helping slide his leather top down his arms. Revealing his beaten back. Scars and forgotten wounds peppered along his flesh.

Tossing the sweat ridden garment into your hamper. He turned to face you once more. Chest beautifully full of blonde and brown hair. Muscles accented by the dim light of your bathroom. Bloodshot eyes tenderly looking down at you. You carefully undid his belt. Pulling his pants down his legs, assisting him with removing each leg. Discarding to the same place as the other.

Even though you had already showered, you removed your own clothing. Guiding him back into the tile shower. His shoulder rested against the wall. Back facing the water. Rivering down the ridges and valleys of his skin. Loving fingertips tickled down his arms. Slowly circling all the spots covered in dirt and grime. His hands gripped your waist, wanting to feel grounded. Knowing you were right before him. There for him. Caring for him.

Allowing the pain and suffering from the day to go down the drain. Reaching behind you for the shampoo you had. Nails softly scraping his scalp as you washed him hair. John’s throat bobbed with each touch. Eyes squinted shut as he savored the feeling. Groaning at your touch.

Gently cradling his head back to rinse. Suds circling the drain. Sucking them away down the pipes. Reaching for your body wash. Lathering his torso with the soft scented liquid. Being especially careful with the cuts that littered him. Articulated fingers got each bit of dried blood and dirt and debris off his body. Reluctantly making him turn so you could get every inch of him. Kissing his shoulder blade as you washed down his body.

John’s hand gripped the wall below the shower head as you finished scrubbing him. Cleaning away any worries and pain that still remained upon him. Taking your time to pour water down him. Getting each and every soap bubble off.

Smiling at him. His hair was soaked. Blonde locks darkening from how filled with water they were. Droplets falling from his beard. His skylike eyes watched you. A smile daring to tug at the corner of his mouth. Stepping forward and pulling you into a tight hug against his strong chest.

Vulnerable and nude together. Bare skin pressing into the curve of the other. Your hands rubbed up and down his back, reassuring him that you would always be here. Anytime he needed you.

John pressed a kiss into your cheek. Backing away to look at you again. Exhaustion finally catching up with him. Blinking slower than he ever had before. It was all so sweet.

You reached to shut the water off. Grabbing towels for both of you. Helping pat down his sore body. Making sure to get any remnants of water off him.

Realizing that none of his clothes he left were clean. Beating yourself up for not doing the laundry sooner. Feeling like you were letting him down.

John shrugged, a smile finally coming across his lips. Loving the idea of your nude bodies pressed together. Sharing intimacy under your blankets. It was one of his favorite things to do.

Both of you walked back into your bedroom. Shutting off all the lights and snuggling under your covers. John’s arms wrapped tightly around your lower stomach. Chest hair tickling your spine. Forehead pressed into the back of your skull. Both your hair still a little damp causing a slight chill to run down your body.

One of John’s hand snaked down to your bare core. Slowly beginning to rub circles against your clit. Your back arched, pressing your ass firmly against his growing cock. Eliciting a low moan from him. His lips pressed a myriad of kisses into your neck. Humming in satisfaction at the way you ground against his member.

Fingers left your soaking core for a moment, wrapping around your thigh. Lifting it so that he could slide his erection between them. Allowing your leg to rest back in its previous position. His hips thrusting. Pinching him between your legs. The head bumping against your sensitive clit.

“Wanna be inside you,” John sighed.

You nodded, arching your leg up so he could enter you. Sliding in without friction, hips meeting your ass. John whimpered in your ear. Arms draping around you once more. Kissing right below your ear.

Knowing it would feel good to get release. But sleep called out to him. Begging him to rest. To allow his body to recover. So he remained still against you. Face nuzzled in your hair against your pillow.

Finally able to truly relax.

~~~

Bob Reynolds

A crack of lightning illuminated your bedroom.

Storms had been persistent for the last week. Sheets of rain pattering against your windows. Blurring any view you had outside. You laid on your side staring at the glass. Sleep wanting to wash over you, but something told you to stay awake.

A knock at your door.

You knew exactly who it was. Getting up and walking over to unlock the door. Sliding open to reveal Bob. Fiddling with his fingers in his oversized sleeves. Lips pushed tightly together as he looked around the hallway, finally meeting your eyes when he realized. Gaze softening.

“Hey,” he said awkwardly, hand rubbing the back of his neck.

You smiled. Blinking slow as you looked at him. A nervous man. But learning to calm those anxieties. He was gorgeous. As much as it pained you to remember, Valentina had been completely right about him being the perfect man.

“Everything okay?”

Bob swallowed, clicking his tongue as he thought, “Uh, yeah! Wait— no, I mean— no. Can I come lay with you?”

He hated the storms. Too loud. Too forceful. Reminding him of when he would have to hide under his bed as a child. Later being mocked and ridiculed by his father for not being a man. So when he found out storms kept you up late at night too, he thought it smart for you to console each other.

You were always happy to invite him in. Stepping back to let him inside. This happened often enough that he had his own side of your bed. Where he now moved the blanket so he could get under the cover. Goofily grinning over at you. Watching how you stepped over to him.

Both of your cheeks glowing with sweet blush. Finding more comfort in each other’s company than you ever had before. Bob’s dark eyes followed you intently. Loving the way your legs poured from your shorts. There was definitely a reason you only wore them to bed.

You crawled into the bed, Bob quick to lazily press into you. His head nestling into the crook of your neck. Soft breaths fanning over your collar. Arms loosely draping around your waist. Fingertips meeting the swell of your ass.

Another loud clap of thunder.

Causing Bob’s entire body to jump. Alarmed and holding tightly against you. Breath coming out broken and shaky as he tucked his face further into you. As if you would somehow protect him from it.

You readjusted so that your legs were tangled together. Pressing as close together as possible. Bend of your knee meeting his groin. Causing him to shutter. Fingers digging little crescents into your cheeks. Breath catching in his throat.

He was already hardening from the simple pressure of your leg. Really easy when you are as touch starved as him. Losing himself in the way your heartbeat sung to his ears. How tenderly your hands caressed him, playing with the back of his hair. Able to feel how deeply you cared for him simply from your touch.

His lips pressed a chaste kiss into your neck. Nose cascading along your pulse. Whimpering softly as he began to roll his hips against your knee. Finding a distraction from the raging storm outside. Open mouthed breathing against your skin.

“Can I…?”

It was meek. Unsure of himself but knowing exactly what he wanted. It caused your cheeks to heat up. Kissing the top of his head and agreeing.

His long fingers pulled your shorts down your body. Following with his own. His cock slapped against his stomach for a moment. Bouncing from its release. He nudged your legs apart, hiking one over his waist. His length swiped along your folds. Collecting your release on it. Bob whined at the feeling, his eyes squinting shut.

Slowly he pushed inside you. Parting your folds perfectly and meeting his hips flush with your own. He was so warm. He nuzzled his face between your breasts. Groaning with broken breaths.

“ ‘s so good,” Bob grumbled into your chest. As badly as he wanted to fuck you, this was better. Bodies connected. Soothing his rapid heartbeat. You were his safe space. Whenever he needed comfort he knew exactly where to go.

When the next strike of lightning hit, Bob was too far lost in you to notice.

~~~

Alexei Shostakov

Snow blanketed the ground outside.

You were curled into a ball under the thin blanket you were given. The tent you were sharing was by no means insulated. Shivering uncontrollably in the subzero temperatures. Cold enough to see your breath in front of you. Trying not to disturb your companion beside you.

Alexei had his back to you. Barely a foot between you. Broad shoulders rose and fell with each breath he took. His body radiated heat. You wanted so badly to wrap yourself around him, steal any bit of warmth he could spare.

But it would be rude of you to intrude.

So you continued to freeze. Tip of your nose practically forming an icicle. Forcing your eyes shut hoping that you could sleep, knowing it would be impossible like this. Shuttering and teeth chattering.

He began rustling behind you. You froze. Trying to stop your body’s natural instinct. You must have been disrupting his sleep, why else would he be rolling over?

“Are you cold?” voice thick with his accent barely above a grumble.

“I’m sorry—“

Alexei’s arm wrapped around your lower stomach. Pulling you flush against him with his strength. Shifting so that you were layered under the same blankets. Curve of your spine perfectly fitting his front. He hummed into the crook of your neck. Breath warm. His body was like a heater. Finally feeling a moment of tranquility.

“You know, there’s a way to make us both warmer,” Alexei said with a hushed voice. Lips pressed against your ear. Beard tickling your skin. Husky voice sending chills down your body that pooled between your legs.

You pressed back further into him. Arching your ass so that it ground against his groin. Earning a low huff from him. Fingers splaying along your stomach as he gripped you tighter. Heartbeat pounding against your ears as you awaited his next move.

A soft kiss was pressed into your neck. His thumb hooking around the waistband of your thermal pants. Tugging them down your legs. Chill of the air a fading memory when his fingers dipped into your core. You whined at his touch.

Alexei chuckled, “Let me get you ready.”

Thick, calloused fingers circled your clit. Sliding them into your hole repeatedly. All heat in your body was between your legs. Growing slicker with each touch. Fingers spreading you out with each insert.

His hand abandoned you for a moment. You pouted wanting his digits inside you once more. Hand reaching behind you to grab his wrist. Finding it where his hands were pulling down his own pants. Half-hardened cock springing free, slapping against your back. The tip was molten hot. Leaking cum already. You imaged it was swollen and red. Girthy. Obscenely warm.

Large hands hooked around the bend of your leg. Arching it over his hip behind you. Cock now prodding at your core. You rolled against it. Tip pushing barely past your folds. Alexei’s hand lined him up with your core. Sheathing inside you in one fluid motion. Hips flush against yours.

“Tight cunt,” he breathed into your ear. Sounding as if the air had been punched out of his lungs. The stretch of his cock burned for only a moment. Now able to feel the way it pulsed inside you.

And he was right. This did warm you up significantly. Alexei rested his chin on your shoulder. The two of you heating up together. Finally comfortable in the igloo like tent.

Alexei felt good inside you. As badly as you wanted to start hopping up and down on him, you knew this was far more comfortable. Bodies combined as one.

“ ‘ll keep you warm all night,” Alexei muttered half drunk on the feeling of your walls encapsulating his length.

You could feel yourself drifting to sleep. Alexei’s arms tight around your torso, your leg tossed around his waist. Making sure to keep the heat trapped between your bodies.

Both of you forgetting about the blizzard outside.

~~~

// Thank you so much for reading! This is different than the longer stories I normally do, but it’s like this idea hit me like a bus the other day and I just HAD to write it. As always, my inbox is open. If you want to be tagged in anything in the future, have requests, or just general questions, feel free to let me know! Comments and Reblogs are appreciated //

{tags}

@megangovier ~ @ghostofmarvel ~ @oof-ouch-ouchie ~ @lc-birdie ~ @buckys-knife-flip ~ @flow3raurora ~ @makaria-burton ~ @augustisnotonline ~ @hinata7346 ~ @ae-aeitch ~ @reader-lola ~ @puppygar ~ @maryzoka ~ @killerwendigo ~ @gonzo-induced-gender-crisis ~ @tsunderecamour ~ @lovelively ~ @dean097 ~ @smooth-raikkonen ~ @dollylvr ~ @simps-r-us-blog ~

[totallysharkycomplete]

needy! bob reynolds x afab! reader

needy bob who constantly craves your attention. whether it's nighttime cuddles or even little head scratches, he can't help but want to be as physically close to you as possible.

needy bob who cannot sleep without you in the same bed as him. his arms are always wrapped around you, usually pulling you flush into his chest (that man does not know the definition of 'space') and if you're not in the mood for cuddles, he will stay awake, pouting, unable to fall asleep.

needy bob who can't help but just rub himself up against you in the middle of the night. it's not his fault, he really tries to control himself. but it's just so difficult when you're right there and he's already hard and before he realizes it his hips are rolling softly against your thigh and oh it feels so good.

needy bob who fucking adores your breasts. whether it’s sucking on them or just squeezing them between his fingers; he’s an absolute menace when it comes to your tits. at first, he would get kind of nervous to touch you, not wanting to push too many boundaries, but once you two get further into your relationship, he’s sucking on your breasts like his life depends on it.

needy bob who also loves eating you out. and he'll get real sloppy with it, just lapping at your pretty pussy, sucking on your clip, drooling all over it. he's just so eager, so excited to get a taste of you, and he'll be lapping away, even long after you finish.

needy bob who has the biggest praise kink. he's too shy to outright ay it, but his favorite moments are whenever you're telling him how good of a job he's doing, or how happy he makes you. literally all he wants is to be good for you. (call him a good boy once and he's already popping a boner).

needy bob who loves you so so much, and while sometime he's afriad you might get tired of his neediness and clingy tendencies, you always make sure to remind him how much you adore him.

[totallysharkycomplete]

What kinks/fetishes the Thunderbolts have

Yelena/Bucky/John/Ava/Alexei/Bob x fem!reader

warning : +18, mdni, kinks and fetishes are discussed here

Summary : Everyone has their preferences, whether it's their favorite color, genres, music, or even in bed with their loved one. It's human nature; they may have been heroes, but at the end of the day, they were human too. Heroes who all have their own preferences and enjoy doing them with their lover.

info : Finally some smut for the team! I've been wanting to write a John Walker one-shot for days, but I can't get away from them. Have fun reading your favorite ;)

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yelena

Teasing = She loves teasing her partner, which might start during the day with a wink, a kiss, and a touch, and end up in bed at night. Yelena loves seeing her lover try everything to keep control and not throw herself at the blonde. But how could she resist when Yelena gave her so much with every touch of her body before gently smiling and pulling away? Yelena knew her girlfriend's body and she was far from finished with her teasing.

“You're really cute when you're so desperate. I know how much you want me... Come on, one more time and then maybe I'll let you have me”

Lingerie = Yelena loves wearing erotic underwear herself, but she loves it even more when she sees it on her lover. She ran her fingers tentatively over the lace and lacing before kissing her way down the fabric to the center. Her love looked like the most beautiful thing that had ever existed, and she would take her time exploring her.

“You know exactly what you're doing to me, fuck—worse than any black widow”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky

Body worship = Bucky loves to take time for his sweetheart, not only during the day, but especially in bed, where it is important to him to take his time. Every part of her body is kissed and touched, his metal arm always holding her body as gently as possible. His real arm takes time to massage her breasts, tracing every little scar, mole, and stretch mark. For him, there was nothing more important than knowing that she was with him, that she trusted him so much.

“Let me touch you, hold you, let me spoil you, please, I need it”

Dress = Bucky is old, but even back then he liked dresses, and that hasn't changed today. He loved it when his lover wore different dresses, waited for him, and he just had to lift the fabric slightly to see how it revealed her skin, how pretty it looked on her body. It did something to the older man that he couldn't prevent, just seeing how the fabric lay on her body.

“Darling, is that a new dress? You know how you spoil an old man”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

John

Praise = If there was one thing he always needed, it was recognition and, above all, adoration from his girlfriend. It was so easy to make him blush, to feel how the soldier gave himself more and more to her. The kisses were intense, and the shiver that ran through John's body when he heard her praise was quite visible, as was the fact that he would give her anything she wanted just to hear her praise.

“Honey, is it good? Yes, please, I'm all yours, just one more time, how good am I?”

Shield = John loves his shield, whether it's bent or straight, but he loved it even more when he saw his love with it. From a nice strip show to seeing her press herself against the shield and him having to pull himself together not to take her right then on the bed when she used the bent shield as a pillow substitute to grind against.

“Fuck-I wow, honey, you have no idea what you're doing, so sexy”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alexei

Daddy = Alexei was a hero of the Russian nation and a proud member of the Thunderbolts. But above all, when it came to his wife, he loved it when she called him that. When he held her so tightly that she clung to him, it made him smile when he heard her, out of breath, begging for more, and Alexei gladly gave his sweetheart more of the Red Guardian

“That's right, Daddy, Red Guardian is here to be all yours”

Leather = His suit is made of leather, as is the suit of his beloved, and maybe it was just the way she looked in it. But Alexei loved seeing the material on her, feeling its coolness and warmth, seeing how it hugged her body and showed off all her best features. Oh yes, with every suit he saw her in, Alexei looked forward to a long evening where it was just the two of them.

“Darling, please keep the suit on after the mission, I want to celebrate our victory properly, just the two of us”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ava

Heat/Ice = She was very familiar with different states of aggregation, but above all she loved to bring them into the bedroom. Seeing how her star's breathing quickened when she ran an ice cube over her heated skin through the wax, the rapid breathing and gasping when the wax dripped onto her skin. Ava knew what she was doing and she loved seeing what she could do to her star.

“Good girl, that's it, just two more drops and I'll be all yours”

Hands = Ava loved having her own hands on her partner's body, knowing that even in such an intimate moment, they were together. But above all, she loved her beloved's soft hands, touching them, kissing them, feeling them on and inside herself. It was a feeling of connection and closeness she had never experienced before.

“Just hold me, I want you, I need you... let me feel you, yes”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bob

Pain = The pain inside him was different, it paralyzed him again and again, but the pain he got from his girlfriend kept him alive. Every little slap, every little pat, and every kiss with a bite made him relax, made him know that he was in control. He wanted it that way, and seeing that his beloved would stop anytime he wanted and kiss him and his pain made him feel completely fulfilled.

“I can take it, trust me, just one more hit and then I'm yours”

Cuddling = On dark nights, he just loved lying in her arms, cuddling her with his love, kissing her, and just letting the minutes pass. Just fucking her quietly and tenderly, sitting her on his lap, them being as close to each other as they could be. Bob always wanted her as close to him as possible so he could feel her warmth, her body, and her whole being.

“Ngh—please just stay like this, stay with me, please”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@neska223 , @bribrisposts , @imtherain , @arickaandherfictionalothers , @brisselfshipping , @tallulinha , @anxiousmilflover , @eurydicesxshadow

[totallysharkycomplete]

YOU TASTE LIKE HEAVEN ╱  BOB REYNOLDS X FEM!READER

let me make it up to you

+18 MINORS DNI 𓏲  ◟ ♡ ˖ ࣪  oral (f receiving), bob eating pussy for the first time, praise kink, begging, overstimulation.

author's note: bob eating you out for the first time. that's it that's the tweet. me next me next me next!!!!!! i know for a fact bob reynolds loves eating pussy!!!!!!!!! and i volunteer as tribute!!!

The mission was over, but your mind and your entire body were still buzzing with adrenaline. It had gone way better than you'd expected. And Bob? He did so well. After all your training, the barked orders, the sharp corrections—you’d seen every bit of it click into place out there. No hesitation. No second-guessing. Just raw, controlled power. He’d finally stopped doubting himself.

And you were so fucking proud of him.

You were about to go find him and tell him that when he came into your room, closed the door behind him and turned to look at you like he hadn't taken his eyes off you since you all go tback.

“Hey, you,” you said softly, a smile tugging at your lips.

“Hi,” he breathed, barely more than a whisper.

He stood there like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to come closer. Like he wanted to kneel but hadn’t figured out why yet.

“You okay?” you asked.

He nodded slowly. “Yeah. Just… I needed to see you.”

You crossed the room toward him, fingertips brushing his chest. “You did good today, Bob.”

His breath hitched at that.

“Really good,” you murmured. “I saw the way you moved. The way you didn’t hesitate.”

His eyes fluttered closed. “That’s ‘cause of you.”

You tilted your head. “No, that’s you finally believing in yourself.”

He opened his eyes again—and this time, they were shining. Hot. Intent.

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” he said. “What you did for me last time.”

You arched a brow, feigning innocence. “Hmm? You’ll have to be more specific, Bob.”

His cheeks flushed, but his voice stayed steady. “When you had my dick in your mouth.”

You smirked. “Ah. That.”

He swallowed, hands curling into fists at his sides. “You made me feel… like I was the only thing that mattered. Like you wanted to ruin me. And you did.”

You leaned in, lips brushing his ear. “You liked it?”

“I fucking loved it,” he whispered, shaking. “And I—I want to do that for you now. Please. I’ve never done it before, but I need to. I wanna taste you. I wanna make you feel everything I felt—and more.”

You pulled back and looked into his eyes—blown wide, glassy, starved.

“You really wanna go down on me, Bob?”

“I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.”

You smiled. “Then get on your knees, baby. And show me.”

Bob dropped like gravity pulled him down. No hesitation. No nerves now—just need. He settled between your thighs like it’s where he belongs, hands warm and a little shaky as they skim your hips, sliding your pants down slow.

When he saw you—slick and flushed and soaked—he let out this wrecked little moan, like just the sight of your pussy nearly knocked him out.

“Fuck,” he breathed, eyes locked in like he can’t look away. “You’re so—Jesus, you’re perfect.”

You laughed softly, breathless already. “You gonna just stare or are you gonna do something about it?”

“I wanna,” he said, like it’s killing him. “I’ve just never—fuck—I didn’t know it could look this pretty. I didn’t know I’d want it this bad.”

He leaned in. Breath ghosting over your skin. And then—finally—his tongue drags one slow, tentative stripe through your folds.

You gasp.

Bob groans, like he just tasted something divine. “Holy shit. Why didn’t anyone tell me—fuck—this is insane.”

Then he licks again. And again. Bolder. Firmer. He’s already messy—spit and slick all over his chin, tongue moving like he’s trying to memorize every inch of you.

“Fucking hell,” you moan, one hand flying into his hair. “Bob—shit—you’re actually good at this—”

He whimpers. “I need to be,” he mumbles against your clit. “I want you to feel everything. I wanna make you come, baby. Please—let me.”

You don’t get a chance to answer—his mouth locks onto your clit and sucks and you nearly come off the fucking bed.

“Fuck—fuck, Bob, yes! Don’t stop, right there—oh my god—”

He groans into you. Arms sliding under your thighs, pulling you closer, holding you open. His tongue works in filthy, perfect circles. He’s obsessed. Like he’s dying to make you fall apart.

“You taste so good,” he pants. “So fucking good—I could stay here forever.”

You're already trembling. Your hips can’t stay still. “Bob—fuck—don’t stop, please—just like that, yes—”

And when you come? You scream. Legs shaking, hand yanking at his hair, body writhing under the weight of it. He moans with your orgasm like it feeds him. Like he’s addicted to it.

But he doesn’t stop.

Your thighs are trembling. You can barely think. Your body’s still shuddering from the orgasm he just dragged out of you—and Bob is still down there. Still licking. Still moaning like he’s been possessed.

You try to push at his head, weakly. “B-Bob—fuck, wait—I need a second—”

But he growls. A low, desperate, hungry sound against your cunt that makes your spine arch right off the bed.

“No,” he pants. “You’re not done. I need another one. Give it to me, baby—please. I know you can.”

He sounds wild. His voice has gone wrecked and hoarse, his mouth slick with you, eyes glazed like a man who hasn’t tasted water in years.

“Let me make you come again,” he begs, voice shaking. “Let me wreck you like you wrecked me. Please—I can take it—you can take it. Just one more. Please, baby, come on—”

And then he goes right back in.

Tongue fucking you. Sucking your clit like he’s gone mad. He’s not gentle anymore—he’s starving, messy and frantic and relentless. The sounds echoing off the walls are filthy—his moans, your gasps, the slick of his mouth on your cunt like he’s drowning in it.

You’re already spiraling. Overstimulated, twitching, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“Bob— I—fuck—I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” he growls, gripping your thighs tighter. “You’re doing so good—fuck, you’re perfect. Let go for me. Wanna taste you again, wanna feel you come all over my mouth. Come on, baby—come again.”

You fall apart.

It crashes over you like a fucking wave—sharp and overwhelming. You scream, legs clamping around his head, body spasming while Bob groans and keeps going, licking you through every pulse and twitch until you’re begging, sobbing, gasping for breath.

“Please— Bob—please—stop, it’s too much—”

He finally pulls back, face flushed and soaked, pupils blown wide like he just touched god.

He looks up at you with a wrecked smile.

“You taste like heaven,” he whispers.

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[totallysharkycomplete]

✶⋆.˚ ┆ 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞 {𝟏𝟖+}

pairing: bob reynolds x thunderbolts*reader x john walker summary: john walks in on you and bob sharing an intimate moment. to john's surprise, you invite him to join. warnings: 18+, minors dni, smut (threesome, john holds you while bob eats you out, bob and john share a kiss, you ride john and give bob head at the same time, not so much smut but naked cuddles at the end <3), swearing, potentially ooc characters (first time writing for bob so if i didn't give him justice please don't burn me at the stake) word count: 6k a/n: listen, i wasn't expecting to like the bob x john pairing as much as i did, but then i read some fics and thought ... yeah i gotta write something. i feel like i got a little lazy writing toward the end, so i might go back and rework some stuff. but for now, enjoy!

It had been the first Friday night in months that the Thunderbolts didn't have to go away for a mission. The team was elated to have a weekend to relax. Not only had they been training to become better heroes, but also training to keep a good public reputation.

After all, they had big shoes to fill now that they were the New Avengers. Being a Thunderbolt was one thing, being protectors of the innocent was another.

So, the break was well-deserved. It put everyone in a good mood. Even Bucky, who never seemed to be able to relax or have fun. Tonight, he joined Alexei in the common room at the Watchtower. Alexei had been watching an action movie and doing a terrible job at explaining it to Bucky, instead of just letting him watch.

Yelena had asked Ava for her help in her room, something about giving the guinea pig a bath. Despite Ava dragging her feet as she followed Yelena down the hall, John knew Ava wasn't really that annoyed by it. He'd noticed the two hanging out more, which also helped boost team morale. The better everyone got along, the better they worked together as a team.

With everyone occupied with their choice of entertainment for the evening, John decided to make his way to your room. He hoped after the long week you'd be up for some company.

Within the last year, you and John had grown close. Valentina often put you and John together on missions, which may have led to something more between the two of you. You guys weren't dating, but you drifted dangerously along the line of friendship and something more.

It put John in an uncomfortable position once Bob started coming around more. He wasn't upset; in fact, he was glad Bobby was hanging out with them now, but John couldn't deny that missed the time spent with just the two of you.

He missed you coming into his room at night, after everyone had gone to bed. You liked sleeping with John at night, letting him hold you while you drifted off. But lately you weren't stopping by his room, and when he saw Bob coming out of your room one morning, he knew something was up.

John didn't think to knock when he got to your room. He was so lost in his thoughts that he just walked right in. He barely made it through the doorway before he came to a complete stop.

The scene unfolding in front of John made the man turn red, his throat tightening shut. His blue eyes tried to find any other spot to look in your room, but they betrayed him and kept going back to what was happening on your bed.

Bob was sitting in your bed, back flat against the headboard. The same one John had nearly broken several times in the past. His eyes were closed, mouth hung open with his head fallen back. There was a shine of sweat across Bob's forehead, his curls sticking to his face. His fists were twisted in your sheets, the same ones you had stained more than once.

John's eyes dropped lower on the bed, where you were laying on your stomach in between Bob's legs. He could see your head bobbing up and down along his length. You had been so lost in the taste of Bob that you didn't hear the door open, not until you heard the door swoosh close. Bob let out a startled moan, weakly trying to push you off him now in embarrassment.

John wasn't sure what to say, how to react. He stood like an idiot with his mouth hung open from shock. A crimson color was creeping up his neck and to his ears. But then to make it worse, he felt his dick twitch in his pants. He awkwardly shifted, trying to not be obvious when he put his hands in front of his crotch. How could he be getting this turned on by what he saw?

Bob, on the other hand, was mortified. Sure, John and Bob were much better friends than they were when they first met, but Bob would be lying if he said he wasn't still a little intimidated by John. And now that he was fooling around with you, Bob was worried John wouldn't take it well.

He wasn't an idiot. Bob saw the way John looked at you when he thought nobody was looking. He was smitten over you. But John also didn't have any sort of claim on you. So, it's not like you and Bob were doing anything wrong.

John watched you finally pull yourself off Bob with a lewd 'pop!' noise. You wiped your mouth and grinned at John, before turning to look back at Bob. You leaned closer to him and whispered in his ear, "I told you he'd find us."

Bob glanced up and over at John. He watched the blonde's tongue peek out, licking his bottom lip. It made Bob's dick grow under his hands, causing him to groan and shift a little in your bed.

"I told you to lock the door," Bob said, looking over at you. He shook his head when you let out a giggle, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him in for a kiss on the cheek.

"Bobby, I didn't think you were being serious," you tried to be serious, but couldn't help the stifled laugh that slipped through your lips when Bob gave you a pointed look. "Besidesss, I thought we agreed that it would be fun if he joined."

John swore he died just then. Did he hear you right? You two had discussed this before? Him...joining you? He watched you two sit in your bed together, naked. Your bodies shining from sweat and slick. His eyes found his way to Bob's arms. The muscles of his biceps flexed, the veins popped. John's eyes continued further down, counting each ab on Bob's stomach before he-

The moan from across the room brought you to a hush. You and Bob's head turned to look over at John, who was not practically panting from his spot still by your door. Bob could see John's dick was ready to break through his pants. Was he...turned on by this?

John cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak, but no words fell out. His feet felt locked in place, unable to move.

"I should just-," Go. He needed to turn around and leave. His mind was screaming at him to walk away, so why couldn't he?

You leaned over and gave Bob one more wet kiss to his cheek before pushing yourself off the bed. Bob's eyes fell down your naked form, watching you make your way to John. His dominant hand wrapped around his cock, pumping slowly.

When you made your way to John, you circled him once like he was prey. It made him nervous, tense. Bob couldn't see you when you disappeared behind John, not only your arms poked out and wrapped around his middle. John only seemed to relax when he realized you were just hugging him.

"I'm not gonna force you to do anything you don't want," John leaned against your mouth when you whispered in his ear, feeling your lips press kisses across his face and along his jawline, down his neck. "But I'd love to have a night with both of my boys."

Bob whimpered at your words from across the room, feeling more pre-cum leak through the slit at the tip of his dick. Your boys, he liked the sound of that. And by the size of the tent in John's pants, he did too.

John sucked in a breath when your hands wandered lower, palming him through his sweatpants. He leaned back into your hold, knees threatening to give out from under him. He needed a moment to think.

A part of him knew the entire situation was fucked, but he also couldn't deny how much it turned him on. The idea of stuffing you full of him while Bob watched made him nearly faint. John nearly came in his pants then when he thought about watching Bob eat you out after.

When John's eyes found yours again, they were nearly black from lust. He turned in your hold, grabbing you by the waist and pulling him to him. John's hand extended out behind you to lock the door. He let out a hiss when he felt you start grinding on his dick.

He gave your ass a smack, a warning. John's hands kneaded the flesh before giving it another hard smack. "So, when did this little thing start, huh?" John pulled you with him as he made his way to the bed.

Bob watched John toss you like you were nothing on the bed. His eyes dropped to where you fell, in between his legs and dangerously close to his dick. His balls were practically sitting on top of your head.

You moved your head to rest on Bob's thigh, turning your face to look at his dick. You hummed and reached out, replacing Bob's hand with your own. His hands found the bedsheets again, twisting them in his fists.

"Go on, Bobby. Answer him," you contorted your body to be able to lean over and kiss the swollen red tip of his dick. Bob hissed at the contact.

"F-fuck, I don't know. A few weeks ago, I think," Bob whimpered and twisted his fists tighter in the sheets when he felt you kiss up and down his shaft. "When y-you were all gone on a mission."

John tried to think back a few weeks ago. All the days were beginning to blur together, but John eventually remembered what Bob was talking about. You had gotten injured, and Val made you sit out.

He let out a laugh more to himself than anyone as he pushed his pants down. You and Bob watched in awe as John stripped himself free from his clothes. He wasn't as chiseled as Bob was, but he was just as solid. Faint scars from his time in battle litter his body, freckles dancing around the scars like constellations.

He was beautiful, you and Bob both thought. In front of the team, John's ego was inflated. If you said that to him in front of everyone, but behind closed doors...John was sweeter.

Bob couldn't help but look down at John's dick, standing tall, proud. Bob's dick twitched and knocked against your nose as you were pulling away.

You sat up and on your knees. Bob followed your lead, sitting up and extending his arms out behind him to lean on. His legs were stretched out on the bed, dick twitching in his lap. He watched John crawl on the bed, kneeling in front of you and sitting at Bob's knees.

"It's only our third time," you explained, moaning when John's large hands groped your tits suddenly. You felt yourself become wet from him manhandling you. "W-we haven't even really done anything!"

Bob watched John play with your tits in front of him. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat when John's mouth licked and sucked at your neck, fingers twisting and pulling at your nipples. John knew what you liked, how you liked being touched. Maybe he'd be a good friend tonight to Bobby and give him a few pointers.

John's gaze glanced over at Bob, who had been staring at your breasts, his hand slowly pumping the top of his dick. John grinned against your neck before biting down, pulling away when you yelped. You were already in a daze, pouting when John's warm mouth left your skin. All he did was give you some hickeys on your neck and play with your tits, and this was the state you were left in.

"Tell me what you've done," His hands held onto your hips as he maneuvered you both on the bed, turning you so your back was against his chest, and you were facing Bob. John made sure to keep your legs open, so Bob had a direct view of your wet pussy.

You hummed at the warm feeling of John's front against your cold back. His hands went back to playing with your breasts, his legs pinning yours open. Bob watched through heavy eyes as John kissed your neck, biting at the skin and licking up until he pressed his lips to your ear. John locked his eyes on Bob while asking you, "Has he ate your pussy yet?"

You moaned at the question and squirmed in John's grip, rolling your hips down on the sheets. You felt John's hard dick pressing against your back, his teeth pulling at your earlobe. He stuck his tongue in your ear a little, causing you to groan and try and pull away. But John's grip only tightened so you would stay put.

"Tell me," he whispered harshly, bringing one of his hands down from your breast to smack your clit. You whimpered and bucked your hips up, chasing after his touch. All Bob could do was continue to watch in awe. You were putty in John's hands. "Tell me what you've done. I won't ask again."

Your chest heaved as you tried catching your breath. What little sense of control you thought you had, was now out the window. John already took you by surprise when he accepted to join you and Bob, now it seemed like he was taking charge of the situation entirely.

You weren't surprised though. Leave it to John to still need to be in control somehow. If you weren't painfully aroused by the moment, you'd probably give him shit for it. But you wanted him on you, in you.

"We've only kissed," You turned and buried your face in John's neck. "I-I've only sucked his dick. We were gonna do more tonight, though."

You whimpered when John slowly began rubbing circles on your clit. He nodded at your answer, satisfied with your response. His fingers slipped around the bundle of nerves the wetter you grew. But there was still something about your response that didn't sit right with John.

"But has Bobby tasted you yet? I saw his dick down your throat, but has he given you the same attention?"

Bob's face grew hotter. He watched you shake your head no before glancing back at John, who had a little smirk toying at the corner of his mouth. He stopped playing with your clit and pushed your legs open more with his legs, motioning for Bob to move in between.

He tried to not be so nervous, especially now that John was there. It's not like he didn't know what he was doing, he's just never ate your pussy before. Bob wanted to make sure he did a good job, and John was going to make sure that it happened.

"Be good and keep your legs open, yeah? I want Bobby to make sure he gets all in there." You nodded and watched Bob as he shifted to lay on his stomach. He wrapped his arms around yours and John's legs, adjusting them to rest over his shoulders and down his back. You found yourself panting, sandwiched between the both of them.

"Now, Bobby. Don't be afraid to get messy. She likes it when you clean her up after," You could feel Bob’s hot breath fanning over your pussy, drool threatening to spill out and on you.

But Bob felt frozen, unable to move. John scoffed and grabbed him by his hair, shoving his face deep into your folds. “Come on now, don’t keep our girl waiting.”

When you felt Bob's tongue go flat against your folds, you let out a loud moan. Your hands gripped John's biceps, legs squirming in both their grasps. Bob's hands tightened on your thighs as John's ankles locked onto yours.

"Good job, Bobby," John's hands eased up on Bob's head, pushing his hair back and out of his face. You felt John's dick slowly grind against your back. "How does she taste?"

Bob whimpered when John's hand left his hair. Through lidded eyes, Bob watched John's calloused fingers run along your body, working you up. His hands grabbed at the soft parts of your body, working their way back up your breasts. Bob moaned as he continued to eat you out when he watched John pinch and twist your hardened nipples.

"Come on, Bob. Tell me," John practically whined. He wasn't used to sharing, having to wait to taste you. "I wanna know what I'm missing out on."

Bob's hips slowly grinded into your mattress. Between the taste of you and John's voice coaxing him through the act, Bob was ready to cum. His tongue continued to swipe up and down through your folds, slurping up any liquid that dripped out of you.

"S-good," Bob muffled, not able to rip his mouth away from you. "Tastes like...mmm, candy."

You let out a whine at Bob's words, withering in John's grasp. His hands came down from your breasts to wrap around your middle, holding you still. Although you were starting to become overstimulated, you craved more. You needed more.

"Candy, huh?" John laughed and leaned down to kiss your cheek. "You hear that? Bobby said you taste like candy. I'm really jealous now. Not used to having to wait to have a taste."

You tore your gaze away from Bob and looked up at John, who was smiling down at you. Any sense of nervousness or uncomfortableness seemed to have vanished from the blonde. You were both lost in each other's eyes, that neither of you noticed Bob's eyes glaze over golden.

There was an urge that ripped through Bob suddenly. It was like an itch that needed to be scratched. His body was tingling, practically buzzing when he pulled himself off of you. You and John both turned your attention back to Bob.

He was sitting on his knees now, still in between your legs. Bob scooted himself closer to you, thighs resting under yours. His hands grabbed onto John's, since his legs were still pinning you down. The position was borderline uncomfortable, but the closeness had you quickly forgetting how uncomfortable you were.

From your spot in between John and Bob, you became uneasy. You knew what came with the golden eyes, but Bob wasn't backing down yet, so maybe he wasn't done? You began to wonder what you got yourself into.

"You okay, Bo-"

Bob cut you off by grabbing John's shoulder, pulling him closer. You fell into Bob's chest, pinned to his hard front when John was pulled closer by Bob. John tried to not squirm in Bob's hold, but he wasn't sure where this was heading.

You craned your neck back awkwardly to look up. Your mouth fell open when you watched Bob suddenly press his lips to John. Bob was more confident with that kiss than he'd been with anything else that night. John was taken back, but he didn't pull away. He was surprised with himself when Bob pulled away from the kiss, and John chased after his lips.

John watched with his mouth hung open as Bob pushed you and him both to lean back in your original spot. You were relieved to not be contorted like a pretzel any longer. The room fell back into a quiet hush, except for the lewd sounds of Bob eating you out.

Nothing was said about what just happened. John's lips were glossed over with a mixture of your slick and Bob's spit. He was watching Bob in a dream-like state, only pulled out of it when you pulled John in for a kiss.

You moaned at the taste on his lips, running your tongue over his top and bottom lip in circles, sucking his bottom lip and pulling away with your teeth dragging his lip out. You let it go and watched his lip stick out, a little swollen.

"Taste good," You mumbled before settling back in John's arms. One hand fell down to Bob's hair, fingers running through and pulling gently at his curls. "You're doing good, Bob. Making me feel so, oh!"

You jolted when you felt two fingers push into your dripping core. John's attention was drawn back to the act happening between your legs. He let out a moan of his own when he watched Bob's fingers pumping lewdly in you, mouth sucking hard at your clit.

"Good job, Bobby," He put his hands on your knees, pushing and pinning you deeper into the mattress. Bob's hand was reached out, holding on John's hip. It made John jump a little. "Keep going. She's getting messy, that means she's close."

You knew what was coming. You were going to squirt all over Bob's fingers, arm and mouth. The orgasm was going to hit you hard, nearly knock you out entirely. You closed your eyes to try and focus on not cumming right away.

"You gonna make a big mess on Bob, yeah?" John hissed when he felt Bob's blunt nails dig into his thigh. You nodded and withered around in John's arms. Your back was now dripping with John's pre-cum.

"I think Bobby's deserved it, don't you think?," John kissed the top of your head. "Finally got to taste you, baby. Why were you depriving him so long?"

You opened your eyes and looked at Bob, golden eyes meeting yours. He didn't look away from you, but his eyes were growing heavy, drunk off your pussy. You closed your eyes again and turned your head away.

"I-I don't know," you answered, whining when John grabbed you by your hair to force you to look back down at Bob. "John!"

"Don't get bratty with me. You should at least watch him when he's eating you out. He's doing a fucking good job at it, aren't you, Bobby?" Bob's eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. He wished John wouldn't talk so much right now.

You were right on the edge of your orgasm. Bob could feel your warm pussy clenching down on his fingers, making it almost impossible for him to curl his fingers up and punish your g-spot. He didn't want to hurt you, especially since this was only the first time, but you felt so good. He almost couldn't control himself.

Bob's fingers kept pace, but his mouth slowed. The two different sensations on two sensitive spots on your body had you teetering on insanity. You felt his tongue swipe up through your folds slowly, his soft lips kissing around your pussy and up your sticky thighs.

"She's close," Bob mumbled. He was hesitant for a second, as if deciding on if he should say what he wanted to. But at this point, he knew there wasn't much he could do to ruin things. "Feels like I'm gonna lose a couple fingers from her pussy."

John laughed at Bob's joke, earning a faint laugh from Bob. You watched Bob's shoulders relax. As happy as you were that he was getting comfortable, that him and John were getting along, why did they have to be stupid boys right as you were about to break?

Bob gave you one more kiss before wrapping his mouth around your clit again. He sucked on it like his life depended on it. You gasped and fisted your hands in Bob's hair, tugging on the curls.

It didn't take long before you let out a high pitch moan, shaking as you squirted all over him. Bob was quick to slurp you up, not wanting to waste any of the precious juices you graced him with.

John felt your legs shaking under his. He smiled and kissed your temple, whispering that you did a good job. You closed your eyes and panted, trying to catch your breath as you came down from your post-orgasm high. Your hips would occasionally buck up as Bob cleaned you up. But he eventually pulled away and sat up on his knees.

You didn't have the energy yet to open your eyes. John, on the other hand, couldn't help but watch Bob. He was kneeling in front of the both of you, grinning to himself in his fucked-out state. Your slick was glistening across Bob's lips, his chin. The hair that wasn't sticking to his face was sticking up a little. His eyes, still golden, but more subdued.

"You did good, Bobby. Glad you finally got a taste?" John asked, watching as Bob nodded. John nodded back before looking down at you. "Hey, we aren't done yet."

Bob fell back to his original spot in your bed, with his now sweaty back sticking to your headboard. His dick was painfully hard, leaking and red. He couldn't help himself at this point. While his right hand stroked his shaft, his left hands cupped his balls.

You opened your eyes with a groan when John began moving you. He adjusted himself so he was sitting up better, his legs now stretched over Bob's. You were in between them again, just not as close this time. Bob would have to lean forward to give you a kiss.

John's hands held you tight by the waist until he was comfortable. He then guided you down until you were seated on his dick. You moaned at the feeling of his dick in between your sticky folds. His dick was going to stretch you out deliciously. You clenched at the thought.

"I'm glad you got off, sweetheart. But Bobby and I haven't," John's hands moved up your stomach until they reached your breasts, giving them a squeeze. You whimpered and watched Bob continue to jack himself off, watching you intensely. You let out a small gasp when John's mouth found your ear. "So, you're gonna be our good girl, m'kay? You're gonna suck on Bobby's dick while you ride mine."

John's dick pulsated in anticipation. He wanted to give Bobby his time to shine when it came to eating you out, prepping you. But John could only be patient for so long. If he didn't sink his dick into you in the next ten seconds, he might've had to bend Bob over.

He grunted loud in your ear at the thought, bucking his hips up into you. You met John's movements in the middle, moaning at the contact. Your body was sticking to John's from both of your body heat, the sweat and slick from the evening. It was like you were glued to him.

Bob watched the two of you in front of him. His eyes wandered over your face, pulled in a tight expression as John edged you; your pussy, dripping now from slick as John's dick slid in and out between your folds. Bob licked his lips, wondering what the tip of John's dick tasted like. He tore his golden eyes away when John began pushing you forward.

Your hands came up to rest on Bob's thighs, using him as leverage to hold yourself up as John guided himself into you. By the third stroke, he was already setting a mean pace. The sound of slapping and squelching made Bob's dick harder, if that was even possible at this point.

John let out a huff like a bull, similar to when he was in combat. His hands were gripping your waist painfully hard, hips snapping up into you. You could already feel the bruises that were going to be left behind. Your head was hovering over Bob's dick, mouth open and panting above the tip.

Bob's hands moved away from his dick and up to your hair, moving it out of your face and holding it back in his hands. You moaned when you felt him tug at it. Not hard enough for it to hurt, but hard enough to leave a comfortable sting behind.

You kept your eyes locked on Bob's happy trail. You felt your pussy clench around John's dick at the thought of your nose pressing into the soft patch of hair above Bob's dick. Before John could make a quip, you practically engulfed Bob down your throat, earning a rather loud moan from him.

"S-shit, hey! Slow down, please," Bob panted and found his hands dropping down from your head and onto John's legs. He gripped his calves, blunt nails sinking into the muscle.

You gagged loudly on Bob's dick, pulling up and off him, spitting out the glob of saliva you had building in your mouth. Your hand was instantly sticky, stroking the base of Bob's dick while your mouth suckled on the tip.

John remained behind you, bucking his hips wildly into you. Your pussy felt so good around him, so wet and warm. Whenever the tip hit your g-spot, deep up in you, you clenched tight down on John and moaned around Bob's dick. Despite your clenching, it was still easy for him to pump in and out of you. He'd have to thank Bob later somehow, for getting you ready so well for him.

Your last moan around Bob's dick nearly had him cumming then and there. He was trying to last as long as John could, but he was already so sensitive from you blowing him earlier, before John even joined you. Bob wasn't ready to have the night end so soon.

But just like your current evening, things don't always go as planned. Before Bob could even warn you, his balls suddenly tightened, a sharp gasp escaping him that sent you in a frenzy.

Whatever you couldn't fit in your mouth you stroked with your hand. You tried to make it sloppy, keep him lubed up with your spit and his pre-cum. You liked the taste of Bob. He was sweeter than you imagined. He'd been working hard to be healthier, and it paid off. You were swallowing anything and everything he gave you.

"Taste so good, Bob," your tongue swirled along his slit, pulling off to pump his dick from balls to tip. "Can't wait to have you cum down my throa-"

You were cut off by Bob suddenly squirting his cum all over your face. You flinched when the warm liquid hit you square in the face, dripping down your nose. Bob was already apologizing profusely, hips still bucking wildly through his orgasm.

Meanwhile, John was behind you watching the scene unfold. He watched Bob's angry-looking dick finally shoot it's seed out, coaxing your face in its white and sticky substance. It made John gasp, losing his rhythm and staggering into you. He took a quick moment to refocus before picking up the pace again.

John gave your ass a few good smacks as he pounded into you. You were moaning around Bob's dick as you cleaned him up with your tongue. Bob, on the other hand, was practically knocked out entirely. His eyes were closed, thighs shaking from overstimulation. But he didn't push you away, he kept his hands on John's calves.

"You did so good for us tonight. So fucking good," John leaned forward and pressed his lips to your back, peppering your skin with kisses. He was rolling his hips deep into you, edging himself. Just like Bob, he wasn't ready to end the night just yet.

Once you were satisfied with your job at cleaning Bob up, you pulled off him and let your cheek rest against his inner thigh. You panted, holding onto Bob as John fucked you. Bob's arms loosely wrapped around your shoulders, almost like he was hugging you.

Your body rocked against his with each powerful thrust John gave you. You could feel your next orgasm approaching, building faster with each brutal hit to your g-spot. All you could blab out was John's name, weakly repeating it.

It didn't take long for John to finally cum deep in you. His hips suddenly jerked up and he locked himself in you. His body shook as he filled you with his seed. You weren't much further behind, soon creaming around his length.

You rocked your hips through your orgasm, milking John for all he had and could give you then, before your hips stilled. You felt John soften inside you, but he had no intention of pulling out just yet.

He fell back on your bed, staring up at your ceiling. John's head was nearly about to fall off the foot of the bed, but Bob's tight hold on his legs kept him safe and secure. You kept your own hold on Bob, nearly falling asleep.

After a while, John shifted in bed. He pulled his shaky legs out from under you and Bob, grabbing you by the waist again. You let out a whine, not ready for another round. John let out scoff and rolled his eyes. "Relax, I'm just getting us comfortable."

You hummed when John moved you up higher in bed, pushing Bob a little at his shoulders for him to scoot in the bed to make room. Bob let out a quiet moan when his head sank into one of your pillows, his eyes closing. You leaned forward and kissed his cheek, wrapping your arms around him and holding him. Your head rested on his chest, right above his heart.

John eventually settled on the other side of you. He laid on his stomach, like you. His right leg was tangled in between yours, his right arm thrown over you and Bob. John's left leg dangled off your bed while his left arm laid under the pillow he was using. Bob's free arm that wasn't trapped under you reached across you, his hand laying on John's back. His fingers traced John's soft skin, swirling circles and random patterns. Your bedroom eventually fell into a comfortable quietness.

There wasn't anything that necessarily needed to be said, but the future now remained uncertain. What came next? When you all recovered, would you pretend like nothing ever happened? Deep down, you didn't want that. You enjoyed spending time with John and Bob, you enjoyed your time with the three of you together even more now.

You were thankful to not be the one to talk next. As much as you were enjoying the silence, it began to be almost too quiet.

"Think we can make this happen again?" John asked, leaning up now and looking over at the two of you. Bob was surprised John wanted to make it happen again, but he can't say he disagreed.

You opened your eyes and looked at Bob, before turning enough to look at John. He had a smirk on his face, one that was far too smug for your liking. You let out a scoff and pushed his head a little, playfully. "Wipe that smirk off your face, Walker. Who said this was gonna happen again?"

You let your head fall back down on Bob's chest, feeling John lay on you and pepper kisses on your face as an apology. Bob smiled down at the two of you continuing to listen to your obvious sarcasm of not enjoying yourself to John who was asking you a dozen questions all at once. Bob's right hand ran through John's golden hair as he sat quietly in his own thoughts, his left hand coming down to your face, gently stroking it.

"I wouldn't mind doing this again," Bob admitted, cutting through you and John's teasing. He met eyes with John, who was now fully grinning ear to ear. It was like John knew if Bob agreed, then you would too.

"See? Bobby's down. So what do you say?" John flinched when you brought your hand up to flick his nose. You muttered how he was an idiot before rolling onto your back.

Bob wrapped an arm around you while John laid in between your legs, chin resting on your stomach. You let out a hum, stroking John's face.

"Fine," you agree, pinching John's cheeks between your fingers. "But I want to watch you choke on Bob's dick next time."

[totallysharkycomplete]

John X Bob X Reader: Between the three of us.

a/n: ah yes a bull rider AU because i love me a cowboy and Wyatt and Lewis have played them so i hade visual inspo for this. Chefs kiss 🙂‍↔️.

Warnings: bull rider AU, smut, mutual pinning, childhood friends to lovers, threesome, pet names (darling and sweetheart), face sitting, hand job, blow job, thigh biting, dirty thoughts, cursing, cute ending, no use of y/n.

Word count: 5,8K ( so yeah...that happened)

The sun was beating down on your head. Your throat longed for water, but you didn’t move. You couldn’t miss this. You never had, and today wouldn’t be the first time. Your eyes kept flicking to the scoreboard, waiting for their names to pop up. But it was old and unreliable, so it was a futile thing to do.

Your boot clanged against the ground, throwing up dust. You could hear the bulls whining softly. You could smell beer and practically taste the salty sweat dripping down your body.

And then the speaker blared his name and the crowd went wild.

John Walker rushed out of the stable, hands gripping onto the bull for dear life. He needed to hold steady, keep his balance. Move with the bull, not against it. His body did exactly what it was trained to do, syncing with every twist and jerk of the animal. The seconds ticked by, but he barely noticed. His arm burned, his head spun, but his grip never faltered.

And then, in the blur of people, he found you.

It should’ve been impossible to spot you at the speed he was moving, but he knew exactly where to look. You were in your spot, like always during competitions. His eyes locked onto you, just another blur in the crowd he didn’t need to see clearly to feel.

Let go, John.

He heard your voice clear as day, even though he knew you probably hadn’t shouted a word. He felt it in his bones.

So he let go.

He flung off the bull’s back, hitting the ground with a dull thud as dust clouded around him. All around, people were shouting. He didn’t bother listening. He was too focused, forcing his eyes to find you.

Everyone else was watching the scoreboard.

But your eyes were on him.

And when you smiled, he just knew. He’d scored higher than the last guy.

You hadn’t left your spot, but John came to meet you a while later. He had his hat on now—something he hadn’t worn while riding—but his clothes bore the clear signs of battle. Dirt, sweat, scuffs. He looked like he’d taken on the beast and walked away with the better score.

The good thing was, he didn’t have to beat the bull.

He just had to beat the other bull riders.

“You were great out there.”

You pulled him into a hug, surrounding him with the scent of you. He lived for moments like this. The feeling of adrenaline still buzzing through his veins, combined with the warmth of your body. It always made him giddy. It had been like that for years, and he doubted it would ever change.

He turned to say something, but just as he released you, the speaker crackled to life again, announcing the name of the next bull rider.

Your head snapped toward the ring. Your hands clung to the railing as you lifted your body slightly onto the metal barrier that kept you safe from the bulls—just so you could see better.

Bob Reynolds.

He sprang into the arena, hair wild as the bull beneath him kicked and twisted, trying to throw him off. Bob kept his hand steady, his form tight, body loose where it needed to be and locked in where it counted. It wasn’t just about holding on, it was about how he held on.

John knew he shouldn’t be jealous.

You were always there for them. The two boys. It had been like that since childhood, and it stayed that way as you grew older. When they both took up bull riding, you called them crazy—but you showed up to every match.

You were their lucky charm.

Neither of them ever said it out loud. But they both knew.

It was you in the crowd that made them keep going.

John knew you cheered for him the same way you did for Bob—but it always felt different. The way you climbed the railing a little higher for Bob. The way your voice pitched just a bit louder. Maybe it was because John had always been on the other side, hearing you scream his name. Or maybe it was just because Bob was... different.

John tried to tear his gaze away, but his eyes kept flicking between Bob and the scoreboard.

Bob had made it to 6 seconds already. But he wasn’t letting go.

He was riding for style, for control, for the kind of ride that made judges nod and crowds roar.

“Come on, Bob.”

You whispered the words softly—but John heard them. His head snapped toward you.

Your body leaned over the railing in desperation. Bob didn’t want to just stay on—he wanted to ride like he owned the bull. The bad thing about this sport was that even when you were teammates, even when you were friends for years... it was still a competition.

Because this had never just been about bull riding.

The competition started long before the bulls.

The real ride?

The one for your heart.

And you didn’t even know it.

The sound of the buzzer pulled John’s attention back into the ring. Bob jumped off the bull, landing much more gracefully than John had. It was just another thing to compare himself to Bob—just another thing the brown-haired man was better at.

He watched Bob’s eyes meet yours; he could feel the tension in the air as you held his gaze. Then, with a smile, the other man turned around and disappeared into the arena, heading for the locker rooms.

A couple of moments later, Bob found you and John. He, too, was wearing a hat and showed clear signs of battle. You gave him a smile as he approached, tugging him into a warm hug just like you had done with John.

That was the thing about you—you always made it fair. You hugged them both, always held their hands, and laughed the same at their jokes. It made it that much harder to fight over you because you seemed so clueless to the clear tension. They felt like fools to fight for you. You were all friends. Whether they longed for something more or not, it didn’t matter.

“Well, that was impressive.”

It wasn’t clear who you were talking to—maybe both of them. But Bob was quicker.

“Had to show up John,” he teased lightly, though the heat in his gaze told you this was more than just friendly rivalry.

John’s jaw tightened. 

“You did. But don’t think it’s over.” 

His voice was calm, but you caught the edge—the challenge beneath it.

You always chalked it up to them being too high on adrenaline to remember they were on the same team when it came to most things. Sure, they competed against each other in the ring, but as soon as they were outside of it, the three of you were a unit.

The three of you continued to watch the other riders. Bob and John were itching for this to be over—they wanted to know who the winner was. Sure, they wanted to beat each other, but mostly, they wanted to beat the other riders.

You watched the rest of the competition with mild curiosity. You didn’t care much for the sport itself. You only came to support your boys, and anything beyond them was just background noise.

When the scores were finally tallied, you were glad to see that Bob and John had placed second and third, respectively. You expected them to grumble at each other about the rankings. You knew how bitter John could get when Bob outperformed him in competitions. But both of them were too focused on having lost to some random guy who’d come out of nowhere. They didn’t care much about the specifics of who placed where—they just didn’t like losing.

You knew they’d be tense for the rest of the night if you didn’t step in and do something about it, so you made a quick decision.

“Drinks on me,” you said with a grin.

The bar was lively, warm, and loud. Filled with the kind of rowdy energy that only small-town nights and cheap beer could conjure. You’d picked it on purpose. The music thumped through the speakers, a little too loud for conversation, but perfect for distraction.

Bob and John sat at a high-top table near the back, nursing cold drinks. Their shirts still clung slightly from the heat of the day, and dust lingered on their jeans like proof of the ride. You could see the frustration in both of them, even if they didn’t say a word about the results.

You’d danced a little when you first arrived. Light, easy movements just to shake off the lingering heat. Neither of them joined you. They just watched, sipping slowly, stealing glances when they thought the other wasn’t looking. You’d caught them, though. Both of them. Their eyes on you when they thought you weren’t paying attention. It wasn’t new, but tonight it felt… heavier. More loaded.

Then the mechanical bull started.

The crowd shifted toward it like moths to a flame, and before you could think twice, someone had pointed at you. Cheered. Dared you.

You looked back at John and Bob, mischief in your smile. 

“Think I could last eight seconds?”

John raised a brow, his mouth twitching. 

“Depends on the bull.”

Bob just smirked, but his gaze dragged over your body like he was already imagining it—your hips, your legs, the way you’d move. He lifted his drink and tilted it toward you. 

“Go show us what you’ve learned.”

So you did.

Climbing onto the mechanical bull was more awkward than you thought it’d be, but once the machine started moving, you found your rhythm. Sort of. The crowd whooped and laughed as you tried to hold on, your body rocking with each buck. You could feel your shirt clinging to your skin, the flush in your cheeks growing from more than just exertion. You didn’t dare look at the table.

But they were looking. Watching. Not speaking. Something tight settled between them as they took you in: legs squeezing the saddle, hands gripping the rope, body moving to stay on. It wasn't just a joke anymore. It wasn’t just fun.

Bob’s tongue darted over his lower lip.

John’s hand curled tighter around his glass.

When you finally tumbled off—laughing, breathless, and very much done—you pushed your hair back and waved at them before weaving your way back to the table.

“Okay,” you panted, flopping down between them, “I don’t know how the hell you two do that. That was exhausting.”

John chuckled under his breath. 

“You looked good up there.”

You turned toward him with a grin, then toward Bob. 

“Yeah? Should I consider a new career?”

Bob gave you a once-over, smile lazy but eyes still sharp. 

“You wouldn’t last a week.”

You leaned back in your seat, heart still racing—but not just from the ride. You could feel it again—that crackling, silent thing sitting heavy between the three of you. Their shoulders were brushing yours now, both of them so close it was almost stifling.

You reached for your drink, took a sip, then said casually, “Wanna go back to my place? I’m done with the bar scene.”

There was a pause. Barely a breath.

And then Bob nodded. 

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

John didn’t even hesitate. 

“Lead the way.”

They’d been to your house about a thousand times. It was a safe space. A resting zone. A place they could go to escape training or the responsibilities on the farm. Tonight wasn’t any different.

And yet, somehow, it was.

There was a static in the air that always seemed to follow the three of you around, but it was more intense tonight. More electric. You felt like if you so much as acknowledged it, you’d get shocked. So you pretended everything was as it always was—even though you knew it wasn’t.

The three of you were on the couch. Bob and John on either side of you. Your legs were draped over John’s, his hands resting on top of them. Your back was pressed against Bob’s arm, your head resting softly on his shoulder.

John wasn’t watching the television. His eyes were locked on your legs. It was a hot day, so you’d chosen shorts. That meant the skin of your thighs was on display, and his hands were just inches away. He didn’t touch. As much as he longed to, he didn’t. He just stared.

John thought about how your thighs would feel around his head. Thought about the weight of you on top of his face while he ate you out. Would you like the feel of his beard against your soft skin? Something told him you would.

He wanted to find out more than anything.

A soft moan echoed through the room.

John flinched. For a second, he thought the sound had come from him—had he really gotten so lost in his own thoughts that he let it slip? But then he looked up at the screen and realized where the sound had come from.

That dumb tennis movie you’d switched on had taken a turn. On screen, the characters kissed. Not just two of them—but three. Your body tensed slightly. Not out of embarrassment, but because… you were turned on.

And then something unexpected happened.

The two guys on screen turned to each other and kissed—hard. Bob’s head snapped toward John. And to his surprise, John was already looking at him. Something passed between them—silent, but impossible to ignore.

How had they not thought of this before?

Why go for you separately… when they could both have you?

You shifted, lifting yourself from where you’d been leaning against Bob. Your hand moved to grab the remote. You needed to shut this off before you started spiraling—before your thoughts made a mess of everything. But before your fingers could even brush the remote, John’s voice cut through the room.

“Leave it.”

You turned to look at him, lips slightly parted. His gaze burned, locked on yours. His hand gripped your thigh tighter than it ever had, holding you in place.

“Listen to him, sweetheart,” Bob said, voice low, his breath warm against your neck as his hand settled on your hip.

Your breath caught in your throat.

John’s hand was still gripping your thigh, hot and firm and undeniably present. Bob’s fingers at your hip curled tighter, grounding you as his lips brushed your ear—just barely.

You turned slowly, your gaze flicking between the two men. They were both watching you now, not the screen. John leaned in slightly, like he was waiting for a sign. Bob didn’t wait at all.

He kissed you.

It was gentle at first—an exploration more than a declaration—but it made your whole body burn. His lips were soft but hungry, like he’d been holding back for years and finally allowed himself a taste.

John’s fingers slid from your thigh to your waist as you kissed Bob, tugging you ever so slightly toward him. When you broke the kiss to breathe, John was already there, lips claiming yours in a way that made your knees weak, even sitting down.

His kiss was different—deeper, rougher, more desperate. Like he wasn’t just kissing you—he was starving for you.

And when you opened your eyes between those kisses, you realized Bob was watching the two of you with something raw in his eyes. It wasn’t just jealousy—it was something else.

Desire.

A desire to change places. Not with John, but with you.

You wondered how you’d never noticed it before. All those glances exchanged between them over the years shifted into something else—not looks of competition, but looks of longing.

When John pulled away, his lips slightly swollen, his thumb brushing your jaw, you didn’t have to say a word. None of you did.

You stood up, untangling yourself from the two men. They looked at each other briefly—both suddenly worried that maybe they’d gone too far. That maybe you didn’t want this, and that their unfiltered desires had broken the friendship.

But then you surprised them.

“Come on,” you nodded toward the hall. “Bedrooms this way.”

The bedroom was quiet except for the soft hum of the ceiling fan. Bob and John sat side by side on the edge of the bed, their eyes fixed on you, waiting. You could feel their anticipation like a tangible weight in the air. You took a slow breath, locking eyes with both of them before speaking in a low, steady voice.

“Close your eyes.”

Neither of them hesitated. Their lids fluttered shut, and the world shrank down to just the sound of your footsteps and the thump of your heart. It was amazing how much controle you had on them. As soon as you walked into the room you were the one in charge. You’d told them to sit. So they sat. You’d told them to wait. So they did.

Bob could hear the sounds of you peeling your clothes off. The unmistakable sound of denim hitting the floor made him clench his fists over his thigh. John wasn’t much better off. He caught the sharp intake of breath Bob let out when he heard your feet settle on the floor after you’d taken your clothes off. That, combined with the thought of finally getting to have you, made blood rush from John’s brain straight to his dick.

“Okay,” you whispered. “Open your eyes.”

You watched as both of their eyes snapped open in desperation. Their gazes roamed over your exposed skin. You weren’t completely naked—not yet anyway. You wore a lacy set, not exactly lingerie, but not granny panties either.

You walked over to them slowly, bracing one knee on the spot between them. They didn’t move, but their eyes never left yours. You were in control. That much was clear.

You leaned toward John first.

“You say I’m a lucky charm.”

You pulled John into a kiss, your hand moving to grab his blonde locks. He met you with the same desire you felt, a soft groan leaving his mouth as you pulled away.

You turned to Bob next.

“But there’s something you don’t know.”

You pulled Bob into a searing kiss. It was softer than John’s, due to the lack of stubble on Bob’s face, but it still held an intense desire. You pulled off of Bob with a small pop, a string of spit connecting you.

You lifted your body up so that you were looking at both of them, settled directly between them.

“Do you want me to tell you?”

They both nodded, and you couldn’t help but smile. You could have said anything to them in that moment, and they’d agree. The power was starting to go to your head.

You placed a hand on each of the men’s cheeks, your eyes moving from one to the other.

“Okay. The secret is that I always wear this set to your competitions.”

“Always?”

The word slipped from John’s mouth before he could stop it, causing you to look at him.

“Always.”

John’s mind raced through his memories. He remembered every hug he’d given you after watching you dance at the bar following competitions. Every night you’d sat between them on the porch, sipping moonshine after a tough day.

All those times you’d been hiding this black lace set beneath layers of clothing. Their hands must have grazed it a thousand times. But this was the first time they were truly seeing it.

It felt like a gift.

A gift he wanted desperately to unwrap.

“Why?”

The question came from Bob. Your head turned to look at him, brows furrowing as you tried to think of the reason.

“I guess,” you paused, trying to figure out if this was really the truth or if you were just making it up, “I guess I wanted to be prepared.”

“Jesus Christ.”

Your head snapped toward John.

“Oh, please. Don’t act like you two haven’t kept secrets too. I’m not blind.”

The two men exchanged glances. They knew they’d been obvious in their desire for you, but they hadn’t expected you to acknowledge it so openly.

“All those little glances... it wasn’t just the consequence of being sore losers, and you know it.”

That made both men look at you in confusion. They thought you meant their secret—well, not-so-secret—desire for you. But that last part made them realize you weren’t talking about that.

When they kept staring at you in silence, you let out a small sigh.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I mean, I get it.”

“What do you get?”

“Come on, John. How long are you gonna keep denying it?”

“Denying what?”

You let out a small huff of disbelief.

“That you want to kiss him just as much as you want to kiss me.”

John’s head snapped to look at Bob, who was already staring at him. They held each other’s gaze in silence for a moment, both too afraid to move. Because if they did, it’d be real and that would complicate things.

You were about to do something yourself when Bob moved. His body launched forward, closing the gap between him and John. John’s body tensed at the feeling, his brain short-circuiting. But then he smelled Bob’s cologne, and his shoulders relaxed. He met Bob’s kiss with the same intensity, their lips molding into each other as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

As if it was meant to be.

You watched the exchange from between them. You didn’t feel left out. Far from it. You felt more entangled with the two of them than you ever had in your life. Plus, it was hot. It was so very hot to watch them make out. You hadn’t expected to enjoy it as much as you did, but the sudden wetness you felt told you otherwise.

You let your eyes flicker between them, your breathing growing heavier as their mouths moved against each other. The way Bob’s hands found John’s waist, fingers digging just enough to claim, and how John’s thumb traced light, teasing circles on Bob’s jaw. It was intimate. Something the three of you would share forever. 

Your own hands itched to touch, to pull them closer, to feel the heat that radiated from their skin. Slowly, your fingers slid up from your side, trailing lightly over John’s thigh, the rough denim a sharp contrast to your bare skin. John’s breath hitched at your touch, but he didn’t break the kiss. Instead, his eyes fluttered open just enough to catch yours, filled with raw need and a silent question. 

Your hand popped his button open, fingers moving slowly to guide the zipper down. John groaned into Bob’s mouth as your hand grazed his hard-on. The sound caused Bob’s eyes to snap open, curiosity getting the better of him. He found your hand immediately, his gaze zeroing in on John’s size. Even in the confinements of his boxers, he could tell John was well endowed.

John pulled away first, lips swollen and flushed, his voice a low, rough whisper. “You’re driving us insane.”

You smirked at him. John Walker held himself as a tough man—inside and outside the ring he was known as a beast of sorts, his temper flaring often. But the Walker in front of you was a different kind of man. A desperate man.

You’d done that.

Your chest couldn’t help but fill with pride.

Bob’s hands settled on your hips as you kissed John. He tugged you into his body, causing you to settle on his lap. John chased after you, shifting closer to Bob. You pulled away from John for a moment, turning your head to kiss Bob. John’s lips trailed down your exposed neck as Bob’s hands wrapped tighter around your waist. His hips bucked every so often, making you painfully aware of his growing bulge.

John’s eyes trailed down to your thighs as he kissed your neck. One of his hands found your skin, wrapping around your thigh. You gasped into Bob’s mouth as John squeezed roughly.

 “She likes that,” Bob said, his tone soft and teasing.

 “Yeah?” John asked, looking at you. 

You just nodded. John smiled and repeated the motion, his dick twitching in his pants as you whimpered softly.

 “Look at me.”

You moved your head so your eyes met John’s. Bob took that as his cue to kiss your shoulder blades. John’s hand moved to cup your cheek as he leaned close to whisper in your ear.

 “And if you were sitting on my face, would you like that?”

John’s heart raced as he asked, nerves flickering beneath the surface. It wasn’t that he doubted you would enjoy it—it was the desperate hope that you would, and the tiny possibility you might say no that made him tense.

But then you gripped his shoulder, a moan escaping your lips at the suggestion, and John’s whole body hummed with possibility.

 “Yes,” you gasped as Bob found your sweet spot. “I want to ride your face, John.”

John tugged you off of Bob, guiding you to your feet. You stood before him, chest rising and falling as you waited.

“Take those off for me.”

John turned to face Bob as you slid your underwear down. He pulled the brunette into a heated kiss, his hands trailing under Bob’s shirt. John’s nails raked over Bob’s abs as their lips met again. Then his hand moved lower, undoing Bob’s pants just as you had done his.

John felt your hands slip beneath his shirt from behind, the soft touch making him shiver. He hadn’t realized you’d sat behind him until your lips found his ear.

“You two are overdressed. Take these off.”

You rose from the bed, standing before them once more. John broke the kiss, releasing Bob as he stood up. Bob watched John tug his shirt off, breath hitching at the sight of the shirtless man.

“You too, Bob.”

His head snapped in your direction, noticing for the first time that your bottom half was bare. You made your way to him, settling your body on one of his thighs. There would definitely be a wet spot when you got up—you were certain of it. But you didn’t care. And neither did Bob.

“Need help?”

Bob nodded, lifting his arms so you could tug his shirt off. John watched as you placed soft kisses along Bob’s bare chest, his eyes drifting lower—down to where you were settled on Bob’s leg. That would be his face soon. He couldn’t wait.

Once the three of you were equally naked, John settled back onto the bed. You climbed up onto him slowly, dragging your body across his until you were right where he wanted you. Your thighs framed his face, but you didn’t lower yourself just yet. His hands came to rest on your hips, gentle but eager, urging you to sink down.

You stared down at him, hair falling slightly into your face. A flicker of insecurity passed through you—brief but noticeable. John saw it instantly. He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on your thigh.

“Hey. It’s alright,” he said, his voice steady and comforting. “Just relax. I’ll be fine.”

“He can handle it, sweetheart.”

Bob’s voice came from just in front of you. Your head snapped up to look at him. He stood at the edge of the bed, giving you a soft smile before gently taking your hands and placing them on his shoulders.

“Hold onto me,” he said. “I’ve got you. Let him enjoy this. God knows he’s wanted it for a long time.”

“Fuck you, Bob,” John muttered from beneath you.

The brunette looked down at John, giving him a teasing smile.

 “Maybe later.”

John didn’t even have time to protest before you were sinking down onto him. Oh, he was in heaven. His grip on your thighs tightened as his mouth moved against you, hungry and unrelenting. Every whine that escaped your lips only spurred him on. You were already gushing around his face, the desire you’d held for both of them for so long making you impossibly wet.

Your nails dug into Bob’s bicep as you rocked your pussy against John’s face, chasing the high you’d been aching for. Bob pulled you into searing kisses every so often, devouring your moans like they were meant for him. John’s eyes snapped open each time he heard the sound of your lips meeting, the wet, needy kisses adding fuel to the fire already burning inside him.

The way Bob was positioned gave John a clear view of his dick. He could see the precum staining his boxers. He could see the way Bob thrust into the air ever so often. John could cum just by eating you out, and he probably would. But Bob needed some extra help. So, with a groan of reluctant need, John gently lifted you off him, just enough to speak clearly.

“Bob needs your help.”

You were so dazed that it took you a while to realise John had spoken. He seemed to notice this, teeth biting into your thigh to get your attention. The sound you let out was almost pornographic. John took a mental note to bite you more often. He wanted to get back to shoving his tongue inside you so he spoke again. His voice was lower this time, coaxing and clear.

“Help him out, darling.”

Your eyes flicked from John’s flushed face to Bob, standing breathless just inches away. You took him in for a beat, then gave a small nod. That was all John needed. With a satisfied smile, he pulled you gently back toward him, his hands already hungry again for your skin.

Bob's eyes closed as he felt you free him from his boxers. There was enough precum on his dick to make your job easy. You guided your hands around him, giving him soft strokes. Bob’s thighs spasmed slightly, nudging John's head softly. 

The action caused John's nose to bump into your clit. You let out a soft moan

“Do that again John.”

John did as you asked, head moving up so that his nose bumped into the bundle of nerves.

“Yes, like that! Please keep doing that.”

John gave you a nod of understanding, lips never faltering. You gave Bob a messy kiss before leaning down. You replaced your hands with your mouth, palms moving to rest on the bed as your engulfed Bobs dick. His hands moved to hold onto your head, not to push you just to steady himself. With the pressure John was pulling you towards you were having a hard time keeping your pace on Bob consistante. The brunette didn’t mind though, his hips moved involuntarily, helping you bring his pleasure along. 

You clenched around John's tongue, silently telling him you are close. John knew you wouldn’t last long and he wanted to hear you as you came. Which would prove a hard task with Bob's dick in your mouth. So just before you came John tugged your off Bob's dick, replacing your mouth with his hand as his mouth brought you to your peak. You clawed onto Bob’s body as you gushed onto John's face. 

“Oh John!”

Bob's eyes snapped to look down as your juices spilled onto the blonds face. The sight was enough to get him to the edge. He spilled onto the spot where you and John connected, his cum mixing with yours against John's face. It was dirty. It would have been disgusting if it wasn’t yours and Bob's cum. But because it was and because John had thought of this for so long it was enough to make his orgasm rush into him. He came in his boxers, hips rising from the bed as he did. 

Your body sagged onto Bob's chest. John let go of Bob's dick, his hand moving to gently guide you off his face. Bob helped him, tugging your body up so the blonde could slip out from beneath you. John's chest heaved as he tried to recover, one hand wiping the mix of you and Bob off his cheeks. His beard was a mess—he knew it—but he didn’t care.

You shifted beside him, moving from sitting to lying down. John opened his arms, letting you curl into his side. The bed dipped as Bob joined the two of you, settling into the space opposite John, forming a human sandwich with you as the filling. You sighed as Bob’s arms wrapped around your waist, his head tucking into the crook of your neck. One of his hands reached for John’s, and the blonde didn’t hesitate to intertwine their fingers.

John turned to glance at Bob, a soft smile tugging at his lips before he could stop it.

“We should’ve done this ages ago,” you said, your voice still a little wrecked.

“It’s not like we haven’t been trying, you know?” John replied.

“We haven’t.”

John’s head snapped up at Bob’s words. 

“What do you mean?”

“We weren’t trying to do… this,” Bob said, gesturing toward the three of you with his head. “We both wanted you—but only one of us to have you.”

Silence settled between the three of you. It was true. For as long as they could remember, John and Bob had been trying to outdo each other for your affection, never realizing you might want both of them.  And they’d definitely been too afraid to admit they might want each other, too.

“Well, I like it better this way,” you murmured, drawing their eyes back to you. 

“It’s always been the three of us. Why should that change now?”

The way you said it made it sound so obvious. And maybe it was. You’d always been a team—in work, in life, in loyalty. Why wouldn’t that carry over into this?

John’s thumb brushed over the back of Bob’s hand, grounding himself in the moment. Bob looked down at their joined fingers, then over at you nestled between them, and let out a quiet laugh.

“Well,” he said softly, “guess we’re in this together now.”

You smiled, warm and slow. “Finally.”

John let out a deep, content sigh, his free hand moving to rest on your stomach.

 “Not that I’m complaining, but… do you think we’re gonna be able to keep our hands off each other now?”

“Absolutely not,” you said, grinning.

Bob chuckled.

 “Speak for yourself. I’m already thinking about round two.”

John raised an eyebrow. 

“Just two?”

You snorted, burying your face into John’s chest as Bob laughed behind you.

“Well,” you murmured, voice muffled, “good thing we’ve got all night.”

And just like that, all the tension—the years of second-guessing, the competitive edge, the quiet longing—melted away, replaced by something deeper. Something real. The three of you lay tangled together in the sheets, limbs intertwined, hearts finally on the same page.

For the first time, it didn’t feel like any of you had to choose.

Because this time, you chose each other.

[totallysharkycomplete]

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

[totallysharkycomplete]

thoughts on a threesome with bob and john?? (coming from a sentryagent shipper but i understand that’s not everyone’s cup of tea so no pressure!!)

(i personally don’t ship anyone, like at all from mcu, i dunno it’s just not my thing—so i don’t really mind whatever ship it is!)

okay — now sit down and listen to my ted talk this shit is important!

john and bob fighting between your legs.

at first, it had started innocently enough — well, as innocent as anything could be in this fucked-up dynamic you three had spun yourselves into. john had slid down your body, the heat of his leaking cock dragging against the comforter as he settled between your thighs. lazy, languid strokes of his tongue against your soaked flesh, beard rough and wet with your arousal. it was meant to be quick, meant to be simple prep so you could take him without a struggle. he was always the one that insisted on it, gruffly muttering about “not splitting you open” like he hadn’t done it before.

but bob, bless his restless, boyish heart, couldn’t sit still to save his goddamn life. getting bored of mouthing at your neck, which had already started to bruise under the attention of his sharp teeth and wandering lips, he slithered down the bed like a heat-seeking missile, plastering himself beside walker. walker, whose beard was already slick and shining with you, shot him a glare sharp enough to kill. but bob, that manic glint in his eyes, just grinned, scooting closer until his shoulder bumped against john’s.

and that was when it started — the bickering. actual, honest-to-god arguing with your pussy inches from both their faces. john grumbling through gritted teeth, telling bob to “back the fuck off” while bob teased in that airy, singsong voice of his, saying shit like, “didn’t know you were so greedy, johnny,” flicking his tongue at you just to be an ass. the air grew thick with tension, the sharp, heady scent of sex and musk clinging to everything.

after what felt like forever, someone — you couldn’t tell who — finally put their tongue back on you, and then, maddeningly, you felt two. both of them, clearly trying to outdo each other, sloppily lapping at you, and more than once their tongues bumped into each other . a low growl from john, a boyish snicker from bob, neither one willing to back down.

that was ten minutes ago.

now, they weren’t even pretending it was about you anymore. they were making out against your cunt, mouths sliding hot and wet over each other with your arousal smeared between them. instead of swapping spit, it was you they were trading, tongues tangling, slick sounds filling the room. the flicker of eerie, unnatural light from the tv cast their bodies in shifting shadows, the faint oppressive feeling of the void hanging like a ghost in the corner of the room — it always did when bob was around too long, like the universe itself knew it wasn’t quite right.

you heard it then — that breathless, boyish giggle that could only belong to bob.

“your beard tickles,” he whispered against john’s mouth, and you could feel john sneer, feel the possessive grip of his hands tighten on bob’s hair.

now — different night. or maybe the same. it all blurred together, heavy with sweat and the constant hum of something unnatural lurking in the walls. the void was always there when bob hung around too long, like a weight on the air, a static buzz you could feel under your skin.

it was always inevitable when john was in one of his pissy moods — you’d learned that early. you tended to keep your distance, giving him space, while bob, little menace that he was, always found new ways to poke the bear. this time, whatever had happened, it had landed both of you in trouble.

the air was thick — stifling with sex and sweat and the cloying scent of musk. the sheets a wreck, bodies tangled. you were at the bottom of the pile, back pressed into the mattress, thighs spread wide with bob sprawled on top of you, his flushed, tear-streaked face buried in the crook of your neck. his voice, cracked and high with need, babbling things like, “john, please,” and, “hurts ‘s good,” and even a desperate, delirious, “mommy!” directed at you. you could only assume it was for you, so you pressed kisses to whatever skin you could reach — his temple, his cheek, the sweat-slick curve of his shoulder.

not that he needed to thrust into you — not with john on top of him, big, brutal, unrelenting. driving into bob like he was trying to rearrange his insides, one big hand knotted in that brunette mess of curls, keeping his face pressed into the crook of your neck. you could feel bob shaking, could hear him sobbing out broken little sounds between desperate, choked-off gasps.

every thrust was a sharp, wet slap, obscene sounds mixing with bob’s ragged cries. the whole room seemed to pulse with it.

and then—you and bob, both on your knees. side by side in front of john, who towered over you like something out of myth, cock heavy and flushed, leaking precum you both licked off like it was the last thing on earth. bob was already deep-throating him, lips stretched obscenely wide, tears pricking the corners of his lashes as he forced himself down, impossibly far. no gag reflex. hadn’t had one in years, the little slut.

john had his fingers knotted in those brunette curls, dragging him down until his nose was pressed against his pelvis.

“eyes on me, reynolds,” john barked, voice sharp, dangerous. “don’t you fucking look away.”

and bob didn'tt. big, glassy eyes locking onto john’s, taking every inch like it was his religion.

you watched the obscene bulge of john’s cock in bob’s throat, the tight stretch of skin around it, and you couldn’t help yourself — you leaned in, pressed a soft, tender kiss right against it. a little thing. sweet. cruel.

bob made the prettiest sound. a soft, high whine around the thick length stuffing his throat, and you felt the vibration ripple through to john’s cock.

john groaned.

his hips jerked.

bob whined something that faintly sounded like, 'daddy'.

and that was all it took to send him over the edge.

john’s hips stuttered, a low, guttural groan ripping out of his throat like it physically hurt him to hold back any longer. you saw it — the way his cock twitched, the thick pulse of release spilling down bob’s throat in thick, heavy ropes. and bob, ever the obedient little thing, took every drop, his throat working around it, lashes fluttering like he was about to pass out from the sheer bliss of it.

but what really did it — what made your stomach flip and your cunt clench around nothing — was the way bob looked.

there, kneeling next to you, brunette curls stuck to his forehead with sweat, face flushed an impossible shade of pink, tears still clinging to his lower lashes. and that pale, milk-white fluid trailing from the corner of his mouth, catching on his bottom lip before slipping down the sharp line of his throat, painting a glistening path over his adam’s apple. it was obscene. it was beautiful.

he looked angelic.

like something holy in a blasphemous tableau — ruined and perfect and untouchable all at once.

it made you throb, made your whole body ache to touch him, to claim him, to mark him up and make him look even filthier.

bob pulled off john with a wet, lewd pop, a string of slick clinging from his swollen lips to the flushed head of john’s cock. his cheeks were still hollow, john’s cum still pooling warm and heavy in his mouth as he turned to you. those boyish, glassy eyes locking onto yours with something dark and greedy flickering in them.

and then, slow as sin, he leaned in — mouth still filled, cheeks puffed and pink — and kissed you.

soft at first, just a brush of his lips against yours, tasting of salt and sweat and something dark and bitter. then deeper, filthier, his tongue slipping between your lips, sharing what was left, a messy, indulgent thing that made your toes curl and your head swim.

you could still taste john.

could still feel the buzz of the room — thick with sex and the electric, crawling hum of the void at the edges.

another night you’d never tell anyone about.

another night you’d crave again by tomorrow.

[totallysharkycomplete]

eager to please ღ r.r.

robert reynolds x f!reader

synposis: aside from a couple sexual interactions, bob has never really learned how to eat someone out. but he's eager to learn for you.

warnings: smut (18+ MDNI), oral (fem receiving), messy pussy eating, sub/dom dynamics, praise kink, dacryphilia

word count: 1.7k

a/n: bob my beloved

For being the strongest man on Earth, he looks downright nervous.

He can take the force of a thousand bullets without a single scratch and fly at the speed of sound. Shit, he even brought Manhattan to its knees in a matter of minutes.

But here, in front of you? With his large, calloused hands gently resting on your parted thighs like they're sacred?

He's trembling.

"I just. . ." Bob swallowed, a loose curl falling onto his flushed forehead, slick with sweat and nerves. "I watched some videos online and—and I just want to do this right."

You ran a soothing hand through his hair. "You will, baby. I'll teach you how. Just listen to me."

He pouts and nods furiously. It makes your heart ache a little bit. This man could fly you to the next galaxy and pluck the stars out of the sky for you, and he would still believe that he isn't good enough.

Lying half-naked on the bed with your thighs spread comfortably around his warm body, you lean back on your elbows. Bob is still dressed in his cozy forest-green crewneck sweater and cream-colored corduroy pants. You feel rather vulnerable being more exposed than him, but the thought of soaking his clothes with your juices and leaving your mark made you absolutely drip.

There is no doubting he could see how wet your pussy is. He seems too anxious to look directly at it, still wanting to play the perfect gentleman. Instead, he opts to take quick glances and then dart his eyes away before you can catch him staring.

You reach down and intertwine your fingers with his, trying to ground him. He offers you a shy, crooked smile that makes your heart leap. Every instinct in your body is screaming at you to absolutely ruin this man; to make him cry, to make him scream, to turn him into your pliant little play-thing.

But that was for another time.

Tonight, you were teaching him how to worship you like a devoted acolyte at the altar.

"Okay," you murmur, "start with some kisses."

Bob leans down, practically folding himself over you. One of his massive hands snakes around your outer thigh, anchoring him in place as he turns his head inwards. He begins by nuzzling his nose against your inner thigh, breathing in the intoxicating scent of your soft skin. Then, he places a single, hesitant kiss.

And another. And another. And another, until he's trailing soft and reverent kisses all the way up to your core.

Just when he's hovering where you need him the most, mere centimeters away from your dripping cunt, he shifts to the other thigh to continue the exact same ritual. The way he's taking his time, so gentle and focused on doting on you, makes your head spin.

With each kiss, he starts to gain more courage. He brushes higher and higher until—

A sharp gasp escapes you as he finally kisses your center. There was no tongue yet. It was just sweet and tentative, like he was afraid to break you.

"That's good," you breathe. "Keep going. Don't be afraid to get a little messy, baby."

Bob's eyes flick up to you, tears already threatening to spill out while silently begging for permission. You nod.

That's all he needs.

He shifts in closer, parting your puffy lips with two thick fingers. Then, in a sudden burst of courage, he leans in and drags his tongue through you in one long, slow, mind-numbing stroke.

"Ohh—fuck."

He dives back in, repeating the motion. His head moves with growing enthusiasm, curls splaying against your tummy as he buries himself deeper within your thighs. It's sloppy. Unpracticed. But fuck, it feels so unbelievably good.

The way he groans against you is almost animalistic, like your taste shattered something in him and is currently rewiring his brain chemistry.

"Holy shit," he pants, pulling back just enough for air, his chin glistening with your slick. "You taste—fuck. Fuck you taste so good."

Before you can respond, he's back on you, devouring you like a starving man. He experiments with every flick and stroke of his tongue, eyes intently watching you—watching, listening, learning. He hones in on the spots that make your hips jerk or thighs clamp around his head.

Each moan you give him is answered by a deep, guttural sound from his throat, like he's getting off just from pleasing you. It's raw, unfiltered, and so undeniably desperate.

Then he pauses, breath warm and heavy against your skin. Slowly, carefully, he adjusts his position. His thumbs come up to gently pull back your hood, revealing the sensitive bundle of nerves underneath.

And then, ever so lightly, he starts to kitten-lick your clit.

He definitely learned that trick from the dozen of videos he watched for 'educational purposes'.

"Oh god, right there," you gasp, throwing your head back. "Right there. Just like that."

A high-pitched whine escapes him, almost as if he has been waiting his whole life to hear that he's doing a good job. His grip on your thighs tightens as he pulls you impossibly closer. He buries his face even deeper in your pussy, dragging slow and reverent strokes over your clit.

Wet clicking noises fill the air, mixing in with the grunts, pants, and your ragged cries.

You start to grind against his face, chasing that sweet, mounting pleasure in your abdomen. "A-ah—you're so good. Bob, you're doing so good."

He groans again, much louder this time. The vibration against your core makes your legs twitch.

His mouth is eager and deliciously sloppy, tongue flicking experimentally then circling with new precision when he hears your broken moans.

He's learning you inside and out—hungrily, obsessively. Every whimper and desperate cry to God you give him is fuel.

Then, his lips close around your clit and suck.

Your back arches. The sensation is pure electricity; it is magical yet almost painfully overwhelming.

"Fuck! Right there. Don't stop, don't stop."

He would rather die.

His fingers flex on the plush of your thighs to ground himself. This is the tightest he has ever held onto you. He's always worried about hurting you with his strength, opting for feather-light touches that never leave you feeling quite satisfied.

But now?

Now he's undeniably pussy-drunk, and the fear has vanished entirely.

"You're so pretty," he pants in between strokes, his words muffled against your cunt. "I want—to do this—forever. I'll—get better. Let me—make you come. Please."

You're already right there.

With your hips jerking, thighs trembling uncontrollably, and his name spilling out of your mouth like a prayer, you are coming undone. It's the worship in his voice, the way he presses adoring kisses to your clit between licks, and the primal desire he has to be good for you that sends you over the edge.

You wail, clutching his hair as your orgasm crashes over you. Your thighs clamp around him, your juices spilling out all over his lips and chin. He licks it up, greedy and reverent, not daring to waste a single drop.

But he doesn't stop.

Being as inexperienced as he is, he keeps going with the same eagerness and fervor. It helps you to ride out your high, but quickly leaves you feeling overstimulated. A part of you wanted to push through the pain and get lost in the pleasure again. However, that familiar sharp ache in your clit makes you flinch.

You squirm and push his head back. Only then does he finally pull away, eyes glazed over, like he just tasted heaven.

You're still catching your breath, thighs twitching as your body tries to recover from the storm he just dragged you through.

His voice cracks through the silence. Soft. Unsure. Raw.

"Did I do okay?" Bob asks, slowly rising.

You blink, trying to focus your vision on him once again. And fuck, he looks absolutely ruined.

His lips are pink and puffy. Your slick coats his chin and cheeks. His lashes are clumped with moisture, like he cried from overstimulation. Maybe he did.

Your chest aches again with that same devious desire to wreck him. The way he looks at you—like a sinner pleading for salvation—makes you feel like a goddess; divine and beautiful, with his animalistic devotion dripping from every glance.

You sit up on trembling elbows. "You did so good, baby. You were so perfect."

Relief washes over him. That same crooked little smile appears and his shoulders sag with solace.

"I wanna get better," he whispers, eyes flicking down to the damp spot on your bedsheets. "Wanna learn everything you like. Wanna be good for you every time."

That sends a pulse of heat straight through you. You reach out your arms in silent invitation.

He climbs up your body and you grab his jaw to kiss him, tasting yourself on his mouth. You cradle his face as he hovers there. It is sticky and messy, but so painfully intimate.

"My good boy," you whisper against his lips, rubbing your thumbs just underneath his eyes where the tears escaped. "I adore you."

A blush spreads across his cheeks.

He gently lowers his full weight against you and shyly nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. You stroke his hair, over and over, slow and calming. Every pass of your hand helps him relax, to feel safe and appreciated.

"You okay?" you ask softly, careful not to disturb his peace.

Bob nods into your skin. "Never been better."

You press a kiss to the crown of his head. "You're trembling."

"Only a little," he admits, arms wrapping around your waist. "Just can't believe I did that."

You lay there for awhile in the quiet afterglow. His breathing eventually evens out but your fingers never stop moving; they stroke his back, lightly scratch at his neck and scalp, and trace soothing circles between his shoulder blades.

Eventually, his voice breaks through the stillness again. It is low and timid.

"When you're ready. . ." he begins.

You hum, eyes still closed. "Yeah?"

There's a pause. Then, you can feel a bashful grin growing against your neck.

"Could you try sitting on my face?"

[totallysharkycomplete]

Can you do some more Bob/sentry/void p links please 🥺

YES, YES, YES YES!!!! i'm going to try something that i've never done before and do three sets of p links for bob/sentry/void on this post!! this'll be chaotic but yknow

two links arent working! i will fix asap

previous bob p links post!

════ ⋆★⋆ ════ 

₊˚✧ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ...  ╰┈➤ 𝚋𝚘𝚋 𝚛𝚎𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚜 / 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚢 / 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚍 𝚙 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚜 ᝰ.ᐟ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: must be signed into twitter to view these links ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴏᴘᴇɴ ɪɴ ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ !!

════ ⋆★⋆ ʙᴏʙ ʀᴇʏɴᴏʟᴅꜱ ⋆★⋆ ════ 

✰ sitting on bob's face took some convincing, but it was worth it. ✰ 69ing with bob after he told you just wants to be close. ✰ fucking the stress out of him after he trained for hours, the man whimpers. ✰ soft sex with bob in the morning. ✰ riding bob in the tower's living room after you returned home from a week long mission, he missed you :( ✰ stroking needy!bob's cock on camera and he's embarassed.

════ ⋆★⋆ ꜱᴇɴᴛʀʏ ⋆★⋆ ════  ✰ fwb!sentry taking his stress out on you after valentina got angry with him. ✰ sucking sentry off as he praises you endlessly. ✰ playing with his pretty girl. ✰ sentry being obsessed with your tits during sex. (not working, need to fix) ✰ sentry eating you out after a rough mission. ✰ riding sentry's thigh when he's busy doing work.

════ ⋆★⋆ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴏɪᴅ ⋆★⋆ ════  ✰ tummy bulge. ✰ size difference with void, becoming painfully aware and turned on by it. ✰ the void fingering you after you begged. ✰ void making you work for his cock, even after you begged so nicely. (not working) ✰ he just needs to get it all out of his system, and if that means using you - so be it. ✰ fucking you infront of the mirror so you can see how much of a slut you are for him.

[totallysharkycomplete]

Bob Reynolds headcannons: Nsfw (mdni)

CW: smut, overstimulation, msub, fem!reader, p in v, a bit of fluff, praise kink, established relationship (romantic, can be married or not but it's romantic.), made with a thick/fleshy reader in mind but I think it works in any way.

⋆˚࿔ — he's very shy, in every aspect he is really shy. He can be nervous when it comes to talk about it, but when he's in the mood? Fuck, he'll get into it. He may be shy, but he's not innocent. That he acts like a lamb doesn't mean he is one.

⋆˚࿔ — before fucking or doing anything too deep, he won't have the courage to say it, much less do it without asking. But he'll start slow, he will lay with you in bed or cuddle you up on the couch, maybe a hug from behind, but it'll be slow and gentle.

⋆˚࿔ — after playing a bit like that, his hands will start sliding down to your ass and grabbing it or he will bury his head on your tits, maybe if he feels greedy he will grind his crotch against your leg or ass.

⋆˚࿔ — "please?" He will whisper softly, making sure you know what he wants. Of course you do he's obvious, and, fuck, it's hard to say no to those big pleading eyes that scream for warm touch.

⋆˚࿔ — the way he gets naked it's not shy, tho. He's savage, he will go on top of you and unbelt everything like a fucking expert, he will touch everywhere, grabbing every single soft place he sees.

⋆˚࿔ — he loves soft bodies. He loves them. They're perfect to hug, to kiss, to grab and hold on. Specially hold on, he gets like a dog in heat when he wants to fuck.

⋆˚࿔ — "please- please..." He will beg you, even if you aren't doing anything and just letting him fuck you. he's always submissive and needy.

⋆˚࿔ — he's smashing his hips against yours, frantically moving, no rhythm, just at a fast pace and giving you sloppy kisses as his cock goes in and out of you. He didn't even bothered to get protection and he's just stuttering little "sorry"s in between kisses, his hands groping the extra flesh on your hips like his life depended on it.

⋆˚࿔ — "fuck- fuck- thank you- hmhm- yes- fuck-" he moans beautifully. He had a perfect tone, the cutest little whines you could ever listen to.

⋆˚࿔ — the fucking praise kink this man has is out of this world. He starts drooling and giggling almost mesmerized when you call him a good boy or when you just tell him he looks pretty. In the everyday he will always draw a smile when you tell him any little compliment, and when you're in the bedroom he will go faster and bury his head on the crook of your neck.

⋆˚࿔ — his dick is long, not too thick but he has some good length and fuck, he does know how to use it. Sometimes you jerk him with both your hands and he just melts in your touch. Besides, he loves overstimulation.

⋆˚࿔ — "fuck- fuck s' good please- mgh- t' much-" he whines as the palm of your hand circles his tip, his lower stomach Flooded with pre-cum and semen.

⋆˚࿔ — when he cums he's a mess. An absolute mess. He moans loudly, almost screaming your name, sometimes he will stay inside, letting his cum root inside of you and then whispering sweet apologies in your ear, of course he had asked you to do it before, but he finds it so hot to think he's naughty and even like that you treat him like a good boy.

⋆˚࿔ — he has a huge load, he doesn't have the highest sex drive but when he's needy he can fuck you full, shyly nuzzling his head on the back of your neck or your tits, his body shaking as he drools all over you, sweetly touching all of your soft spots.

Bonus:

⋆˚࿔ — he likes to call you "mistress" or "ma'am."