just a lil something i cooked up right as we speak cuz im sick and i have nothing else to do - 18+
the tower hummed quietly, harmonising with the noise of the busy early morning traffic of new york city. you’d been woken up by the chatter of your other teammates walking past your room. they’d recently been sent on a 3 day mission by val, leaving only you and john behind. val said it was because there wasn’t enough room on the jet for you both, but in your opinion she just hated you and decided to leave you behind with the man that pissed you off the most.
as you heard them retreat to their rooms, you swung your legs out of bed and made your way to the kitchen. there’s no way you’d be able to go back to sleep now, not with the rising sun beaming in your eyes.
as the kettle boiled, a familiar heavy set of footsteps could be heard approaching. you knew it was him before he even walked through the door. john entered the kitchen wearing his gym clothes. you gathered he’s already been training by the sweat on his forehead. he grabbed the bottom of his tank top and brought it up to his face. you caught yourself staring at his soft tummy in that moment, and immediately hated yourself for it.
“you gonna keep staring?” he began, “or do you actually need something?”
“i wasn’t staring, and no, i don’t want anything.” you spat back.
he hummed a response, and turned to open the fridge. he grabbed a water and began walking back toward the counter
there was a cut near his eyebrow, badly patched over. his knuckles were raw, you guessed he went too hard in training and didn’t wrap his hands. he does that a lot.
you poured hot water into your mug, suddenly remembering the reason you’re here to begin with. you watch him over the rising steam.
“rough night?” you ask, suddenly feeling the awkwardness in the air. john leaned back against the counter beside you, eyes fixed somewhere ahead.
“depends.” he says, monotone.
he exhaled through his nose, trying to calm his breathing.
“how much i feel like lying.”
you smiled despite yourself. that, apparently, got his attention. out of the corner of your eye, you caught him looking at you properly now. you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze.
looking down at your mug, your brain struggles to find words to keep the conversation going.
“seriously, why are you training at 4am? the sun is only just rising.” you say with a nervous smile.
“don’t think you wanna hear about it.” he says with a huff, looking out toward the busy streets of manhattan.
“you can talk to me y’know? you’re an asshole and all but i’m not, and i’m a good listener” you’re rambling now. “and that’s obviously only if you want to, you don’t have to if you don..”
the words catch you off guard. for a second, all you can do is blink at him, fingers tightening slightly around the warm ceramic of your mug.
you hadn’t expected that, not from him, anyway.
“i- um… what about?” you ask, voice quieter now, careful. john’s expression shifts almost immediately, like he regrets saying it in the first place. his jaw tenses and he looks away, dragging a hand over the back of his neck.
“i don’t wanna get into it too much,” he says after a moment, quieter than before. “but i just couldn’t go back to sleep.”
you glance down into your tea, it’s only then that you realize he’s closer now. when did that happen? at some point while you’d been fumbling over your response, john had shifted beside you, leaning against the counter next to you. close enough that if you moved your arm even slightly, it would brush against his.
you stare very hard at your mug.
“well…” you mumble. “that sucks.”
there’s a beat of silence.
“…that your professional advice?”
you look over at him, immediately catching the smallest hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. you narrow your eyes. “i was trying to be sympathetic.”
“you’re not very good at it.” he adds with a short laugh.
a quiet laugh escapes him. it’s soft. almost kinda cute. and somehow hearing it makes something in your chest tighten.
this version of john feels strange. less guarded.
you don’t think you’ve seen him smile once since getting here almost 5 months ago.
“what?” he asks. you shake your head quickly.
he hums quietly, tilting his head just enough to look at you properly.
why are his eyes so blue up close? you force yourself to look away.
“you nervous or somethin’?” he asks, eyes knowing.
you nearly choke on your tea. “what? no.”
you turn toward him, offended. “i’m not nervous.”
he raises an eyebrow. “you’ve been looking everywhere except at me for the last thirty seconds.”
heat rushes to your face so fast it’s almost embarrassing. “maybe i just don’t like looking at you.”
there’s a pause. then john smiles again. smaller this time.
“that sounded more convincing in your head, didn’t it?” you groan quietly and look down at the counter.
his response comes so easily that it makes you look back at him. he’s already watching you. closer than before. close enough now that the air suddenly feels warmer.
then john glances down at your mug.
“…what are you drinking?”
you stare at him suspiciously.
“…are you trying to steal my tea?”
you hold it a little closer to yourself instinctively. he laughs under his breath.
“you really don’t trust me at all, huh?”
john doesn’t answer straight away. instead he just looks at you for a second, something quieter settling over his expression. then he shrugs lightly.
you don’t know why but that makes you smile. john notices the smile before you can hide it. you know he does, because something in his expression shifts slightly, like he hadn’t expected that reaction from you. like maybe he’d been waiting for awkward sympathy, or worse, pity.
for a moment, neither of you speak. the silence settles around the kitchen in a way that feels strangely comfortable now, softer than before. somewhere deeper in the compound, pipes hum faintly through the walls, but otherwise everything is still. through the window just behind john, the sky has started changing colors, dark navy fading slowly into pale gold as the first traces of sunlight stretch lazily over the horizon.
you risk another glance at him.
bad idea. apparently, you stare a second too long because after a few seconds, he tilts his head slightly and says, almost amused, “you do that a lot.”
you blink and immediately look away, suddenly finding the floor very interesting. “do what?”. when you glance back, he’s already looking at you properly now, the corner of his mouth twitching upward as he answers, “look at me like that.”
heat immediately creeps up your neck.
you let out a nervous little breath and shake your head. “i- i don’t know what you mean.”
he hums softly, clearly unconvinced. “sure.”
“i’m not looking at you weirdly.”
that makes you look back at him again. john’s already watching you, and for a second, neither of you say anything. the sunrise spilling through the kitchen window catches against the side of his face, warm golden light tracing over the sharp line of his jaw and softening every part of him that usually looks so guarded.
you shift awkwardly against the counter, trying very hard not to think about how close he still is. “okay,” you mutter, forcing yourself to sound normal, “then what did you mean?”
he studies you for a second like he’s deciding whether or not he actually wants to answer honestly. eventually, he lets out a quiet breath and says, “like you’re trying to figure me out.”
you glance down at the mug in your hands before shrugging lightly. “maybe i am.”
his eyebrows lift slightly at that. “why?”
you hesitate. it suddenly feels a lot harder to act casual with him looking at you like this. still, after a second, you mumble, “because you confuse me.”
there’s immediate amusement in his voice when he repeats, “i confuse you?”
“yeah,” you say, finally looking over at him again. “you spend all day acting like you hate everyone here.”
you tilt your head slightly. “you glared at alexei for ten straight minutes during briefing.”
“because he wouldn’t stop talking.” he rolled his eyes.
“you snapped at yelena for handing you a file.”
without missing a beat, he replies, “she threw it at me.”
despite yourself, you laugh. john pauses the second he hears it. and suddenly, he’s staring at you again. not teasing this time. just watching. there’s something different in his expression now, something softer than before, and suddenly you can’t remember why standing this close to him had started feeling normal.
your stomach twists nervously.
he notices almost immediately. his eyes narrow just slightly, amused all over again, before he murmurs, “there it is.”
you frown immediately. “what?”
the smile spreading across his face now is smaller. easier. somehow way too charming for four in the morning. “you get all confident when you’re arguing with me,” he says quietly, shifting a little closer against the counter beside you. close enough now that if either of you moved even slightly, your shoulders would touch. “but then,” he continues, eyes fixed on yours now, “the second i actually look at you…”
his gaze flickers downward for half a second before returning to your face. “…you do that.”
you stare at him, pulse suddenly beating way too fast.“do what?” you ask, though your voice comes out quieter than intended.
he smiles. god, he smiles. and somehow that feels worse because now he looks pleased with himself.
“forget how to act normal.”
your mouth falls open immediately. “i do not-“
he laughs softly under his breath, shaking his head a little like he’s already won whatever game this is. “you’re doing it right now.” you can feel heat rushing into your face and immediately look away, muttering under your breath, “i hate you.”
for a second, neither of you move. then, much quieter now, warm enough that it catches you completely off guard, john says
when you look back at him, he’s already smiling again.
a sudden boost of confidence overcomes you, and you push yourself off the counter. you find yourself right in front of him, looking up at his face. his hands drop from the counter, suddenly looking like he doesn’t know what to do with them.
you shift closer to him, legs brushing against his. reaching out for his hands, you place them on your own hips as he instinctively pulls you closer.
and before you know it, he’s kissing you. his hands come up to your face, brushing softly as his lips fights against yours.
he breaks away first, suddenly breathing heavily.
“are you sure about this?” he manages to huff out, forehead pressed against yours.
“what?” he answers, hands still brushing against your skin.
his breathing goes from level hundred to zero in a split second. he looks at you, trying to figure out if this is some kind of joke.
“i’m serious.” you say, before he can even muster up the courage to ask.
immediately, he grabs you. you squeal as he carries you out of the kitchen bridal style.
as you reach his room, he kicks the already half open door. he puts you down on the bed softly, before kicking himself onto it too. his hands are on you again, brushing your skin with ease.
“are you sure?” he asks, almost looking worried.
“wanna feel you,” you mutter “take off your clothes.”
he immediately does as he’s told, kicking off his shorts and practically ripping his tank top off his chest. this leaves him in only his boxers, and jesus, you can tell he’s huge.
“i don’t… um,” he says, you can tell he’s nervous.
“turn over, lie on your back.” you instruct.
again, he does as he’s told.
you flip yourself and straddle his hips with your thighs. you can feel him rutting his bulge into your clothed pussy. all the while kissing your face, until he does something that you would be hearing in your dreams for the next ten years.
he whimpers. john walker fucking whimpers.
his movements stop immediately, and his face is plastered with a deep blush. you can’t help but smile, he looks so cute like this.
“sorry, i’m just uh..” he mutters, looking anywhere but at your face.
“john, look at me.” you say. he looks at you hesitantly.
“that might actually be the hottest thing you’ve ever done.” you admit.
his cock grows even harder at your words, if that’s even possible at this point. you kiss him passionately, all the while reaching back to feel his neglected cock. as you break apart from his lips, he lets out a deep moan as you massage his cock. he’s heavy in your hands.
“you’re still fully clothed, i think this is highly unfair.” he mumbles under his breath.
you let out a genuine giggle at his nervousness. you swing yourself off of his body as you begin to take your pyjamas off. his eyes stay fixed on you the whole time. his eyes widen as you take your top off, tits bouncing gracefully in your bra. you resume your position on his body.
he lifts his hands up to the clasp of your bra.
the bra unclasps immediately, and your tits fall perfectly. he lets out another quiet whimper. by now, his boxers have been discarded somewhere in his room. flip yourself off of his body and land sideways, suddenly even closer to his angry cock. you decide to tease him a little, and run your finger over the tip of his cock.
he moans loudly, like he’s been waiting for this moment all his life.
“shh, don’t wanna wake up the whole tower now, do we?” you tut.
“sorry.. s-sorry.” he apologises.
you finally wrap your hand around his cock, giving him a gentle squeeze. you can see him physically restraining himself from moaning. as you begin to move your hand up and down his sensitive member, he lets out quiet whimpers that makes your pussy even wetter.
“i-if you keep going li…like that this is gonna be over really soon.” he groans.
“we have as much time as we want, baby. you wanna cum for me?” you say in the sexiest voice you have.
he nods quickly, while looking down at your face. his left hand is squeezing the sheets so tight his knuckles have turned white.
you move your hand faster, as your other comes up to play with his sensitive nipples. the double stimulation makes his hips rut up into your hand.
“pl-please” he moans, “i’m so close”
“cum for me baby.” you whisper, leaning your head down to his cock, wrapping your lips around his tip.
“ohmygodohmygodimcumming”
this tips him over, and he lets out a guttural moan as he releases into your mouth. you stroke him through his intense orgasm.
as his breathing begins to calm down, the room is quieter than before. that is, before he cuts through the silence with a sentence that will stick with you for the rest of your life.
“i want to make you cum with just my mouth.”
oh, you’re in for a treat.
jacobvanloon
dailybridgerton
romaincrisis
theartofmadeline
annaxmalina
turnnoffyourmind
stormborns
kaledo-art
