poofi

“You would like that, wouldn't you?” He continues, voice rough from hours of exhaustion and and from pleasure. “Want me to stay here forever? Buried so deep you'd never know what it's like to not have me inside.”

You nod, eyes rolling back with ecstacy as his fingers comes up to tease your clit with a flick of his thumb and forefinger before leaving abruptly and finding your hands.

He pushes one of your palms on your abdomen making you feel him move under your hand “Feel that, baby. That's me right there”

His fingers continue their ministrations on your clit and your back arches, hips lifting up to meet his thrusts.

He watches your breasts bounce as you move. Licking his lips he leans down, taking a nipple in his mouth and biting softly.

The tinge of pain soothed immediately by his soft wet tongue goes straight to your pussy and the moan that leaves you is loud and unfiltered.

“I'm never letting you leave now, baby” he murmurs around your chest. Mouth not leaving you for a second.

But you know better than to indulge in his fantasy.

You know better. You know that the guards would arrive soon and he'd be taken into his cell yet again.

And you will have nothing but loneliness until they decided the winter soldier needed to be tamed again.

Dividers by @diviniyae

Tag list : @redstarleftarm, @sweetserendipity65, @sambuckystony, @nymphhbabiee, @darlingdenise, @venigrantrogers, @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger, @bstan01, @phoenix-in-writing, @singulartoast, @danerb67, @onyx8514, @globetrotter28, @buckysdecaflove, @alyssinwunderland-blog-blog, @herejustforbuckybarnes, @v33mustdie, @star-yawnznn, @buckybsdoll

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

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

It was maddening.

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

Because coming without you felt wrong.

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

Every. Single. Drop.

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

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

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

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

Yeah, not exactly a shock. 

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

The whole damn compound probably had a scorecard by now.

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

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

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

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

Fine. He could wait ... barely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"One of me is cute, but two though?

Give it to me, baby

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

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

Was there anything under that shirt?

He needed to know. He had to.

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

But then the lyrics hit again.

"Adore me, hold me and explore me

Mark your territory

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

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

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

"Adore me, hold me and explore me

I'm so fucking horny."

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

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

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

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

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

No panties.

That was it.

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

What a treat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Needing everything.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You bit your lip, whimpering at the image.

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

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

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

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

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

You whined, this is exactly where he wanted you.

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

Shit.

"Hold on to me."

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

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

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

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

He looked up grinning like a devil.

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

You nervously laughed, shaking your head incredulously.

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

It was like like the serum was created just to give him the strength to hold you like this.

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

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

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

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

It felt worshipful.

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

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

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

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

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

"J-John I can't ... I'm gonna–“

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

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

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

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

Your hands ran all over his hair, desperate.

"Too much ... John, baby, please–"

That's when he finally pulled back.

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

You twitched one more time, and he grinned satisfied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Once. Twice. Again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Just the tip for now, baby."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You just nodded, eyes still seeing stars, breathless.

"Then sing it for me.”

Your brows furrowed. "W-What?"

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

Your cheeks flushed, brain fuzzing. "John—"

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

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

“Louder."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fuck– ugh baby, fuck..."

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

And another.

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

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

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

You glanced down, and your jaw dropped.

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

And it had been just with the tip.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His territory marked. Owned.

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

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

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

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

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

"Need you ... all of it … please"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh fuck..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then he snaps his hips forward, hard.

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

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

And the worst part? He was right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like the good fucking girl you were for him.

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

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

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

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

You both go quiet.

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

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

“Hey… you still with me, baby?”

You nod weakly.

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

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

At what you let him do.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have I marked my territory enough?”

━━━━━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅ ♡ ⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━━━━━

It must have worked, because soon the elevator dinged and you glided into the room, mid-laugh as you bantered back and forth with Bob.  You both wandered towards the minibar, placing the stack of books you had bought down on the countertop. Your conversation was lively and bubbly, and you continued like you hadn’t even seen Walker in the room. He rose from the couch, wandering over to wrap his arms around your midsection and rest his chin on your shoulder. You acknowledged him by rubbing his forearm, never breaking away from your conversation – that wasn’t what he wanted.

Bob awkwardly shifted, still enjoying your conversation but struggling not to stare at the unusual sight of a cuddly John Walker. Especially when said John Walker was staring him down with such a fire in his eyes that Bob thought he was willing him to combust.

Eventually, John tired of not being the focus of your attention – and his subtle hints were not working. He had tried gently running his fingers down your arm, with hopes of interlacing your fingers and leading you away but was brushed off so that you could act a statement out using rapid hand gestures. Utterances of your name fell on deaf ears, and deep sighs with puppy dog eyes were ignored.

 You were so frustrating, couldn’t you see that he was tired? He let go of you, not that the action affected you. You kept nattering on – intent on discussing a plot twist in your favourite book with Bob, who was nodding earnestly at every shocking reveal. Walker returned to glaring at Bob, fists clenched and jaw set, hoping that if he could remove the obstacle, then you would return your focus to him. Bob, of course, did nothing except stare back with wide eyes.

Goddammit.

Walker rubbed his face, a tired sigh escaping him. Drastic measures were going to be required. He positioned himself next to you and bent down to wrap his arms around your waist.

“John, what are you – oof!” A shriek escaped you as he picked you up, tossing your body over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You smacked his back in protest. “Bob! Help me!” Bob looked at your grabby hands, starting to move towards you. But one sideways glare from Walker was all it took, and he backed down, arms held up in submission.

“Sorry,” Bob chuckled. John walked you both into the lift, leaving your books scattered about in the common room – you could sort them later.

“I was in the middle of a conversation, John.” Your voice was matter-of-fact but not angry.

“It’s nap time.” You could hear the edge in his voice, how tiredness knawed at the corners of his words. So, you quietened and stared at the wall. Once you reached the living quarters, John beelined past his own door to your room.

See, John didn’t just want to be with you when he napped. He wanted to be surrounded by you, enveloped in your scent, in your warmth. And your room, well, that was just an extension of you.

He knew your door code, of course he did. He had memorised everything about you, meticulously, as if he was going to be tested on it. Because that was just the type of man he was.

Once you were both hidden in the privacy of your room, he placed you gently on the bed. When you tried to get up, he softly pushed you back down. An order without a statement. Stay. You obeyed, watching as he closed your curtains over and found your softest pair of pyjamas. He handed them to you before he pulled his own shirt up over his head. You ogled him, the taught stretch of his muscles as he removed his clothes, stripping down into his underwear. He was a well-built man, with wide shoulders and big arms that allowed him to toss you around like a ragdoll. Yet he was always surprisingly delicate with you, like he’d break you in an instant if he didn’t restrain himself. You followed his lead and changed into your pyjamas, then you scooted back onto your side of the bed, lifting the covers invitingly to him with a warm smile.

John clambered in, body sluggish and slow with fatigue. His head found purchase on your chest, and a low rumble of content could be heard from him as he wrapped an arm around you. His hair tickled at your chin as he settled, and his leg was slung over your thighs; you were effectively pinned. You didn’t mind, though; instead, a comfortable sigh left you while you reached up to run your hands through his hair. You scratched your nails gently across his scalp and down the back of his neck, feeling the muscles of his toned back before you traced your fingers back upwards to repeat the action in a soothing, cyclical fashion. All of his muscles relaxed, like he was a spring that had just uncoiled.

“Can you talk to me… like tell me about your day or something? I like hearing your voice.” His volume was low, like every syllable was a massive effort. You felt a smile rise to your cheeks. You kept your own voice quiet and lilted as you started to tell him about your morning shopping trip. How you had nearly missed your bus to the shopping centre, how Bob had been too polite to escape someone handing out brochures and had gotten stuck talking to them for well over 20 minutes, how you had bought a bullet journal because it had reminded you of him and his routines. You kept talking, even though you had noticed the way his breath slowed barely two minutes in, and the way that his weight had increased like all the resistance had left his body. You stopped, enjoying the feeling of your human weighted blanket. Exhaustion tugged heavily at your eyelids and your vision went hazy. One final thought stood out as you also succumbed to the depths of sleep.

you and your teammates didn’t want to bother discussing sleeping arrangements after completing a hectic mission. you all booked a room to rest before a long drive back home.

as soon as the door to your motel room with two double beds swung open, alexei and bob already claimed the bed near the windows. meanwhile ava, yelena, and bucky are assigned to a different mission.

here you are, sleeping next to john walker on a lumpy and cheap double bed, a barrier of only one layer of pillows between the two of you. your back is turned to him; you’d imagine what it’d be like facing him without the wall of pillows, so you just avoided even facing his direction. a form of self-control.

the motel isn’t fancy enough to give you another blanket when you called for it, so you’re sharing one with walker. you’ve got goosebumps from the cranky air conditioner and the hypotheticals of sharing a bed with a super soldier you’ve been crushing on for months.

the erratic cracking from the air conditioner is overlapped by a rhythmic noise, like soft skin slapping, emerging from your right. you brush it off, not wanting to move since the mission already took most of your energy.

after a few more seconds of the noise, the tiny space of the blanket you had was being tugged, the wall of pillows was shaking, and you occasionally heard soft grunts.

is walker jerking off?

you slowly sat up and looked over the wall of pillows. walker is tightly shutting his eyes and biting his lip, the shape of a fist outlining the thin white blanket right above where his crotch would be.

“john?”

he widens his eyes. his whole body is freezing, not just from the cold temperature but from the embarrassment.

he takes a brief moment to check whether you catching him masturbating in a room full of other people is a dream or not. it is not.

“hey… how long have you been awake?”

he inquires with a slight shake in his lowered voice, trying his best not to wake the two sleeping men on the other bed and not to let the shame shine through.

“i haven’t slept since we laid down.” “god damn it.” “you couldn’t do it in the bathroom?” 

you whisper-shout. you’re fighting the urge to break the walls down, figuratively and literally, and at the same time, relieve him of embarrassment. and a hard-on.

“fuck. sorry. i'm really sorry. i didn’t wanna get up, and it looked like you were in a deep sleep.” “unbelievable.”

you lie back down and cup your hot face with your cold hands. walker sits up and places his arm on top of the wall of pillows in a pathetic attempt to appear casual. “look, i was—i was hard and i couldn’t go to sleep so i had to… you know. relieve myself.” “you gonna finish?” “ha-ha. very funny.” he rolls his eyes and faces away from you. after hearing your silence, he turns his head back to you with concern.

“do it in me,”

you whisper as you raise yourself by your elbows. you look up at him through your eyelashes. he parts his lips and smirks, and releases a short sigh that sounds like a forced laugh.

“don’t mess with me like that.” “i’m not gonna jerk you off. i’m tired. i’m offering you help, john.” “so… you would rather i put my… my thing inside you?” “alright, john wanker. you can just jerk off by yourself until the sun comes up and find that useless instead.”

his mouth is left partly open, eyes glancing off to the side to think of a response. “otherwise, get on top of me,” you offer, swallowing your shame. his blue orbs scan your face, looking for a confirmation that you wanted it, thinking your sexual orders weren’t enough. his eyes then slowly travel to your neck and cleavage, revealed by the blanket that slid off when you got up. 

“are you sure?” “i’m sure. i’m your friend, and i want to help you.” “we must be a special case of friends, then.”

he breaks down the wall of pillows, a symbolic emotional and physical barrier the both of you have yet to discuss properly. you lie on your back and put your arms to your sides. your chest heaves, struggling to hold back your shivering fingers and arms from the cold temperature and adrenaline.

the careful but quick movements from walker against the bedsheets emit rustling sounds, quiet enough not to wake your roommates. he hurriedly tosses the pillows to the edges of the bed, eager to hover above you under the shared blanket.

he brackets your flushed face in his elbows, face only an inch away from yours. he tugs on the hem of your shorts, like permission to take it off. you accept it by helping him slide it down your legs, your laced panties sliding off along. you slowly lift your legs up and apart, allowing his already half-naked bottom half to go in between. 

“you ready?” he asks in a whisper. you nod, and he maintains eye contact.

you both gasp as he slowly pushes his cock into you, your walls welcoming it by hugging it. the feeling of being full of him meets and somewhat surpasses your dirty expectations of his cock.

“fuck, you’re so warm.” he quietly moans in your ear, his shaky breath tickling you. your hands grip the ball of his shoulders, releasing your pent-up sexual frustration all these weeks from waiting to be put in this very position.

he silently waits for you to adjust to his size and for him to adapt to the amount of pleasure he has been trying to reach by himself. you plant a peck on his ear, which tells him he can begin moving.

he gently rocks his hips into your pussy. you bite your lip to suppress moans. your swollen pink lips that look sugar-glazed tempt walker; he knows the moment he gives in to his temptations, nothing will be the same ever again.

a super soldier can lift a ten-ton truck, but even john walker struggles to fight the urge to kiss you like you and him belonged to only each other. you mentioned you’re his friend like setting the label in stone.

he was afraid to cross that line by kissing you. he places a hand under your knee to lift it.

“john…”

you cup his face with your hands as he gently grinded onto you. his big and hard cock contrasts his gentle movements. how can a man who could destroy you fuck you so lovingly?

“you like this?” he asks. “i do."

his lips now only a few centimeters away from yours.

“you want more?” “i want more,” you admit as you fling your arms around his neck. your walls squeeze tighter around his cock at the sound of his low voice.

he began to quicken his pace and amplify the strength of each thrust. before you could release a moan and wake up your roommates, he shuts your mouth with a hand.

“not too loud."

he slides the other hand under your back, encouraging a bigger arch by pulling you closer to his body as if it isn’t close enough. your hips bucked so eagerly against his cock, making him want to ruin you more. your saliva wets his hand, but he doesn’t care. he’d jerk off with that hand.

a knot ties in your stomach. your hands travel to his back. your nails dig deep into his skin right under his broad shoulders, like an act of revenge for shutting you up.

several long red marks are left on his skin, following your nails as you scratch his back until you reach the sides of his ribs. he groans in pain and pleasure while still attempting to make sounds in the lowest volume possible.

it feels impossible. the soft skin slapping emerging from between your legs, the heavy breathing, the frustration in each thrust, the wish to fuck loudly, and the two clueless sleeping men make the sex feel impossible. but it’s happening. you don’t know how, but you’re leaving it all to walker.

he buries his face into the crook of your neck, and your fingers into his dirty blonde hair. his other hand joins the one under your back, putting the two of you in a hugging position. the pillows start to slide off the bed one by one as walker’s pace quickens.

“m’so close, princess. taking it so good for me," he manages to say in between his frustrated thrusts.

“feels so good, john,” you whisper, bringing him closer to climax. you feel your pussy squeeze tighter around his cock, pulsating as deep and fast as your heartbeat.

“yeah?” he moans into your ear, waiting for another praise. you look to your right to see alexei and bob still sleeping amidst the debauchery on your bed. alexei’s snoring was a signal for you to keep riling up walker.

“you fuck so good," you moan. you lock your legs around his hips. he hugs your back tighter. you shut your eyes as they rolled back, preparing for the climax.

even though you can only see stars now, your visualization of the mess down there from your slick is accurate.

walker slams his hips onto you harder, fucking into you until he can feel your womb. with each thrust becoming increasingly inconsistent, you could tell he was near.

“fuck— right there.”

he presses his lips against yours, breaking the unspoken rule; you're not allowed to kiss because you’re just ‘friends.’

he thrusts into you deeply, filling you up with his cum. you arrive at the same time, knuckles turning white as you desperately cling onto the white sheets. all you can do now is cover your mouth with the other hand as walker buries his groans between your neck and the pillow.

he thrusts into you one last time, this being the deepest. you both lay there with inconsistent and heavy exhales, staring into nothing as you process what happened in 7 minutes.

the hug you were giving each other loosens. he props himself up on his elbow, the other hand on your waist. he looks into your eyes before jerking his head slightly to the side and kissing you slowly. he briefly separates his lips from yours, leaving yours slightly parted. “show me your tongue,” he whispers.

as soon as he sees the pink flesh in between your teeth, he joins his tongue with yours and presses his lips against yours. his tongue softly caresses yours, both gentle and hungry for more while still inside of you.